by B T Litell
At the base of the stairs there was a circular room that opened up to the double doors that led out of the tower. Currently, one of those double doors was open. The doors should have been closed, as Vor’Kath kept them locked, for his privacy. However, one of the goblins Vor’Kath had chosen as his marshals stood in the doorway, appearing pitiful and frightened. But goblins rarely looked anything but frightened and pitiful. They were incapable of anything beyond those two qualities. Such woeful beasts. I will be happy to leave them behind when all of this is finished. There was a horrid odor that filled the entryway because of the presence of the goblin. Such disgusting beats they could be. It would be hard to believe that they bathed more than once in their lives.
“What is the status of the army? Are we ready to attack?”
“We cannot,” the goblin hissed, it’s nasal voice a result of having such a shortened nasal passage.
Vor’Kath stood on the bottom step and listened as the goblin prattled on about some incomprehensible reason why they couldn’t attack yet. The wretched goblin made excuses for the army’s shortcomings. Finally having enough, he cast a spell and struck the goblin with the darkened lightning, a wonderful power he had been given through his arrangement with Kalathan. The goblin’s body flashed as the dark bolt struck it. After a few moments, all that was left was only a small pile of ash which soiled the pristine, tiled floor. One of the undead servants hobbled over, cleared the ashes from the doorway, and bowed deeply as its master walked through the door. Vor’Kath thanked his servant, a resurrected body, well, mostly a skeleton held together with some rotting flesh, and opened a portal to the plane of existence where his army had gathered. He would see the shortcomings the goblin had spoken of for himself. Perhaps they were actually ready to attack now, but the goblins were afraid of the consequences of something so bold.
Before he stepped through the portal, Vor’Kath stopped and considered the situation that had played out at the bottom of the tower. Was he really any different than Kalathan? He had struck down a soldier doing his bidding because of a failure. Kalathan could have easily done that, though he had chosen not to. Did that mean that Vor’Kath was worse, himself, than his dark master? What a preposterous notion, he thought to himself. He knew understood the situation better than anyone else could have. Although, perhaps he was blinded to reality, being so closely involved as he was.
Stretched before him in a vast valley was an army of thousands of goblins, few dozens of Minotaur, hundreds of werewolves incapable of reverting to their previous forms, ogres that stood over four meters tall and nearly two wide at the shoulders, half a dozen manticore, a small handful of hippogryphs, and a smattering of other monsters he dreaded only because they were so ferocious. He wasn’t even sure of their proper names, but he knew that many goblins had paid with their lives to get the beasts caged for their master. The manticore and hippogryphs were caged and muzzled for fear they would eat the goblins.
The precautions hadn’t prevented all the possible deaths, especially with the manticore, but it had been better than expected. Talons and tails were vicious on beasts like the manticore, and for that reason alone, Vor’Kath was beyond willing to lose a few goblins to them if it meant having such ferocious monsters as them in his army. And monsters they were. They had no apparent sense of what was going on. They only knew that the goblins had been the ones to cage and muzzle them, and that the goblins would be the main target of their revenge when they were uncaged. That could be solved with a simple spell, though the death of some goblins to the manticore, instead of the humans, was not going to impact his results at all. The goblins were, he reminded himself again, expendable assets.
I need a larger army to truly devastate them, but if Kalathan wants me to attack, so be it, Vor’Kath thought to himself as he gazed down upon his army from his perch that overlooked the valley. The army filled the valley below him and writhed like a group of cockroaches under a bed. Most of the writhing came from the goblins, their sheer numbers forming the largest part of the army. Poor, wretched creatures, they had no idea they would be the manual labor for this whole expedition. The other monsters would form most of the attack party. The ogres and the manticore alone would rain havoc upon Shemont. Of this, he had no doubt.
Vor’Kath cast a spell which created a funnel in front of him; he could speak into the funnel and inform his whole army, in whatever tongue they spoke, of his intentions. Even from his vantage point, a large rock that jutted out above the valley, the entire mass of monsters would be able to hear him. The rock Vor’Kath stood on was only twenty meters above the bottom of the valley. With the spell cast, he spoke into the funnel, drawing the attention of the whole mass of monsters. The writhing of the masses soon stopped as he started speaking.
“Our time is at hand, my brethren! The digging party will depart ahead of the rest of the army to prepare their tunnels to bring the city’s walls crumbling down. Your time to slaughter the filth that is the human city of Shemont, the humans who are responsible for your twisted existences, your demented creators, is nigh! We will descend on them like they have on us, as we slaughter every last one of those sorry bastards!”
The monsters in the valley below roared, grunted, and squealed; the cacophony of bestial yells echoed through the valley. Vor’Kath closed the funnel spell and turned to the remaining goblin marshal, who he had forgotten was standing with him, and gave his orders for digging tunnels under the moat and into the city. They would place specially crafted devices in key, strategic points under the walls to bring the stone barrier crumbling down. Vor’Kath smiled with the thought of his plan’s success, and the promised reward of immortality. Kalathan could be an utter bastard at times, but a promise was a promise…
Chapter Nineteen
…A few months later…
The moon rose toward its apex, though dark, dense clouds hid it from the sky above the city of Shemont. Without lamps, there would have been so little light that no one would be able to see more than a few meters away. A stiff, cold wind howled through the city as it sliced through the layers of wool that Michael wore in anticipation for the night’s cold. Winter had started a few weeks ago, and less than a month would pass before snow fell, though it would likely melt away quickly for the first couple storms. The city was beautiful when it was covered in snow. The white powder gave the stone a softer, homier feel.
Michael patrolled the streets, something unusual for a Lieutenant. He didn’t actually patrol the streets as much as he searched for a patrol that had failed to check in for too long. Thankfully as an officer his days of patrolling the streets were far behind him. Now, he had to occasionally track down missing patrols or drunk soldiers. Since being promoted to Lieutenant, Týr and Michael had been assigned to the same unit, partially because they needed two Lieutenants in the night regiment, and partly because the Master General wanted both Týr and Michael together in case Vor’Kath attacked soon. Joshua was also assigned to their unit, one of their few Mages assigned anywhere outside their mystical tower. The guards were wary of the Battlemages, especially so having one in the Regiment with them. Joshua had tried repeatedly to reassure the guards, to no avail.
As he walked down the main street toward the market district, Michael sensed something wrong. Something about tonight seemed too…familiar. In fairness, most nights felt the same after being assigned to the night regiment for any time longer than two months. This was a sensation that the day regiments didn’t have to deal with.
Týr sat in the guardhouse and inspected the ledger for any hints of where the missing patrol could be. This was work that could have been delegated to the Sergeants, but the Captain seemed adamant about them getting the missing patrol found immediately. And he had made it very clear that the Lieutenants were not allowed to punish the guards. That would be the Captain’s entertainment for the evening. This Captain had too little to do, or too much time to complete his tasks. Either way, it was an issue that Michael had to ignore.
Michael d
ecided to examine the ledger, as it could help him in his search for the patrol. The last relevant entry he found pointed him toward the market, but he could have missed something. Another guardhouse, just south of the market, could also contain a clue to their whereabouts. The patrol should have checked in hours ago. Something about the night, beyond just the lack of light, was wrong. If only he could pick out what was wrong. He ran toward the market’s guardhouse. The heels of his boots clicked against the stone street as he ran. Breaths came in and went out quickly as he ran. It was a quick run, maybe five minutes, to the market, especially at this time of night with no one on the streets to get in the way.
Michael burst through the door and the guard sitting at the desk shot up in his chair, startled by the interruption, especially from a Lieutenant. He sat as if there was a steel rod in his back instead of bones and muscles. The guard was young, perhaps twenty years old at the most, judging by the smoothness of the skin under his eyes, his lack of grey hairs, and the slight chubbiness in his cheeks that said he was still maturing. Green eyes looked expectantly at the Lieutenant under thin eyebrows. His hair was blonde, and his eyebrows were only a touch darker than his hair.
“Sir, what can I do for you,” the guard inquired.
“Has the missing patrol check in with you?” Michael asked in turn. He hated answering a question with another question, but the situation demanded it.
“There’s a patrol missing?” the guard gasped.
“I need to see the ledger, immediately,” Michael replied. The guard slid the chair away from the desk and stood up so Michael could take his requisite look at the ledger.
It showed no signs of the patrol, much like the primary guardhouse. Michael checked the ledger once more to be sure, then left, heading back to check in with Týr. The city was only so big, and the patrol had to be somewhere. They met in the street halfway between both guardhouses. Týr had a grim look on his face, but it was rare for him not to have a grim look on his face. Even when they were promoted to Lieutenant together, his face had been grim. It was possible the man still hadn’t gotten over the loss of his sister. And likely wouldn’t until Vor’Kath was dead. Or at least neutralized.
“Still haven’t found the missing patrol?” Týr inquired.
“Not yet. The market guardhouse had no idea we even have a patrol missing. This whole situation is not good, Týr,” Michael said. Týr looked at Michael, clearly deep in thought. After a few moments his eyes went wide.
“Is tonight the night?” Týr wondered aloud.
“No, it can’t be to…” Michael started then had a flash of the dream that had haunted him for years. “Shit! I think it is tonight! We have to find Joshua, and now.”
The pair sprinted to the primary guardhouse where they knew Joshua would be. It was only a few hundred meters, but Michael felt a burning stitch in his side just as they reached the guardhouse. The instant Týr’s hand touched the doorknob, the dreaded ringing began. It was a hollow, sinister ringing, like a bell that had been placed underground, but was clearly the sound of metal clashing against stone. Before Týr could turn the handle on the door, Joshua yanked open the door.
“If that sound is what I think it is, the King has to get out of the city now! Someone needs to inform the Master General and have him escort the King, Queen, and Prince from the castle,” Joshua commanded.
Týr ran off, saying he would inform the Master General and make sure the king was out of the castle. Joshua and Michael rallied the guards nearby, wanting to get as many people in their positions as possible. Joshua sent Michael off to the market’s guardhouse to spread the word, forming a portal to get the Mages.
Michael ran back to the guardhouse, his heart throbbing in his ears as he ran. His breath came in bursts along with the sharp pain in his side. No matter how many times Michael ran with the guards, he always felt like he was going to die. Still, he had a mission: get to the guardhouse. That was the only thing that mattered right now. Instead of focusing on the pain or his pounding heart, Michael focused on his breathing and his stride. In, out, in, out.
Reaching the guardhouse, Michael again burst through the door, the guard behind the desk yanked his feet from the top of the desk and nearly fell backwards. Having caught himself, he snapped upright and clapped his hand to his fist as Michael told him there was no time for any of that.
“Get the guards into their defensive positions. The attack is happening tonight!” Michael shouted.
“What attack, sir?” the guard questioned.
“Shut the fuck up and just get everyone in their defensive positions. I pray for the safety of the Prince that you are competent enough for that at least,” Michael snapped.
His mission accomplished, he turned and ran back out of the guard house. He got three meters from the guardhouse before a portal opened before him and he stumbled through and fell face first into the plush carpet of the castle’s main hall. The portal behind him closed the moment his face touched the velvety carpet.
Joshua, Týr, the Master General, and the royal family all stood on the other end of the portal, looking at Michael as he got himself up off the floor, straightened his uniform, and clapped his fist to his chest. Joshua helped him get to his feet and both turned their attention to the royal family. The Queen, her dark green nightgown drawing some sidelong glances from the men, save the Master General and the King, both of whom still showed heavy amounts of sleep on their faces. The Master General, despite looking like he had just woken up, still happened to be fully dressed. The King wrestled with getting the last of his armor cinched properly.
“Lieutenant Týr tells me tonight is the night. Are you ready, men?” the King asked, looking at all three with a slightly judging glance for looking at his wife in her nightgown.
“Yes, sire,” the trio responded.
“The Mages are already working to find and stop the tunnels, if they can,” Joshua added.
“Good. I don’t want to lose any more of the city than is absolutely necessary tonight. Take this bastard down. I don’t care what it takes,” the King ordered.
“Your wish is our command, sire,” Joshua replied.
“I want him dead as much as anyone, sire. As you know that murderous asshole killed my sister, pardon my language, your Majesty,” Týr added, looking to the Queen.
“Lieutenant you don’t have to apologize. My husband often has a sharper tongue than you,” the Queen replied, smiling at the eye roll the King gave her.
“Right, let’s get going, your Majesties,” the Master General reminded. “Mage, please summon a portal for us. We are heading to Anselin. The King arranged shelter there for the time being. The Elves are being extremely hospitable at the moment. It’s quite fortunate given our past experiences with them.”
“Good luck, men,” the King said, clasping hands with the trio before stepping through the portal that Joshua created. Once the royal family and the Master General were through the portal, the shimmering doorway in the air closed.
Joshua opened another portal into the courtyard, saving them a few steps. Once in the courtyard, more portals opened, and fifteen more Battlemages stepped into the courtyard. They all greeted Joshua as they stepped into the courtyard. The leader of the group, a Commander of the Battlemages, who was easily identified by his more extravagant robes, clasped hands with Joshua, telling him that two groups of Mages had been sent to disrupt the two mine locations they knew about. One was coming under the market, hoping to bring down the southern wall, and the other was coming from the north, attempting to burrow directly under the castle. There may have been other mines, but the Mages had found few signs pointing to their existence. That was fortunate at least.
As Joshua explained his battle plan to the Mages, a shriek sounded above the courtyard. The shriek, piercing and shrill, came from the top of the castle and sounded like an eagle. A monstrous beast, with an eagle’s wings, head and legs, attached to the back half of a horse, came flying into the courtyard, its talons ready. I
t grabbed one of the Mages by the chest and as the beast flew away, the Mage screamed loudly. It was the only way anyone could tell where the monster was in the darkness of the cloudy night. Responding to the threat, the other Mages flashed multiple spells at the creature before finally a bolt of lightning connected with one of its wings. The monster faltered, dropped the Mage, and flew off, its right wing flapping gingerly.
“And so, it begins,” Joshua stated. “Surely there is worse to come this night.”
***
The ringing echoed throughout the city and came from the south and what sounded like it was right under the courtyard. Suddenly the sound under the courtyard stopped, which left with it only the sound from the south which continued to echo through the city. A portal opened and a squad of five Battlemages emerged, a mine showing through the doorway behind them. Two had blood splattered on their robes, and another held his arm, his hand glowing white as he healed whatever wound his wound had been.
The clang of metal against stone continued coming from the south. Ting. Ting. Ting. The echo filled the still calmness that enveloped the city. With the second squad of Mages still missing, the commander ordered the first squad to assist them in getting the mine stopped, save the wounded Mage, who protested that he could still fight. The Mages opened a portal and stepped through, guessing at the general location of their new assignment.
Not long after the Mages left, a deep rumbling sound resounded through the city and the ground trembled briefly. To the west, crashing sounded from the gate. Joshua opened an orb, to look at the area outside the gate. Hundreds of goblins and dozens of other creatures had gathered outside the city’s gate, spanning across a bridge that lead to the gate. A minotaur and a handful of werewolves could be seen on the land side of the bridge as they waited for the goblins to break through the gate.