by Paul Yoder
“Dubix, who seems to be the underling of the other two, but still formidable, seems to command the army under the orders of the other two arisen leaders.
“Lashik is second-in-command, and he’s a very experienced cleric. He is extremely dangerous. I would not face him without the aid of divine holy aid.
“The last, and the biggest threat of the three, is their master. We don’t have a name for him, but when I faced him, he told me they were about to move upon the Plainstate within days, decimating the smaller settlements before coming here to sack the capital before looking beyond the Plainstate to war and expand their foothold in the region.
“I managed to slip away, but I can say, his power is evil on a level I’ve never experienced. Such a vile creature of darkness, I’ve never faced in this life.”
Bringing a hand up to his chin, considering silently Reza’s report for a long while, Metus said, more speaking aloud his thoughts than asking Reza a question, “They are to march upon our lands within a day or so. That’s assuming he wasn’t goading you, feeding you information and then letting you go, or that he hasn’t changed his plans due to your escape—”
Reza cut into Metus’ verbal musings, firmly stating, “Of changed plans, I cannot say, but of him purposefully feeding me misinformation, I know it was not his intention to let me slip from his grasp. He fully meant what he told me.”
Though Leith seemed displeased with Reza’s interruption, Metus took Reza at her word, seeing how convinced she was on the matter, surmising, “Then we must make all preparations for war. Either this arisen lord intends to march upon our people immediately, or he has the lingering motive to do so eventually when convenient. We will be there when that move comes, and if it doesn’t soon, then we shall use your advisement on where and when to strike the city to break up that lingering threat. It’s been a year too long already, and now that we know our foe and their motives, it is time to dispel them from our borders.”
“How swift will be your march?” Reza asked directly after Metus had finished his statement.
Metus considered Reza’s heightened concern over the matter for a moment before replying with more details regarding the assault timeline.
“As quickly as we can. We have reserve soldiers barracked here in the capital along with a missionary force of priests, but they only number near a thousand. We’ll need to send for militia in the two northward towns of Ashfield and Dover and draft from Viccarwood, Warwick, and Barre to have a sufficient army to contend with roughly two thousand arisen.
“To send word to and organize that many men, we should have the main force down in Warwick within a week.
“We’ll send word to Viccarwood, Warwick, and Barre to mobilize within a day or two in case we don’t show up with the rest of the army before the Arisen force begins their march since their first target will likely be the closest village to Brigganden, which is Warwick.
“If, after that point they haven’t attacked, I’ll send scouting parties out to provide reports of Brigganden. If it does appear the army is there, we’ll surround Brigganden, rout out the enemy, and reclaim it.”
Metus could easily discern that Reza was disappointed with his answer. Looking back at her comrades, she could see that the group now exchanged clued-in glances between one another.
Metus called to Reza, directing her attention back at him.
“Reza, what is this about? What concerns you?”
Reza, turning to see that Fin, Cavok, and even Nomad looked as though they were about to speak in her place if she didn’t come forward with their concerns for the timeline Metus had just laid out, she replied.
“Is there no way to make it to Brigganden sooner than that? We made it here in two days, partly on foot. Surely you could summon enough troops and move on the city sooner than a week or more.”
“Reza,” Metus replied, showing the slightest sign of strain, “You know full well that I can’t just throw men haphazardly into enemy territory. These are lives, not just numbers, we speak of. To not ensure we have an adequate force and intel before going to war would be a horrible malversation on my part. A week is as soon as I can promise to have a force strong enough in number to confront this enemy at their own gates if they are still within their city walls.”
A quiet voice behind Reza responded with, “Not good enough.”
Leith, standing next to Metus, stiffened, giving a look so deadly at Nomad for his disrespectful words that it made Reza uncomfortable, even though the look wasn’t directed at her.
“Bede will be lost to the perverted clerk long before then. It has been two whole days since her passing. Perhaps she has been puppeted by Lashik already. We cannot allow her to remain in his hands a whole week longer.”
As Nomad talked, Metus and Leith realized he spoke not to Metus, but to Reza, who, instead of turning to face him, pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes, facing the floor.
Metus, finally beginning to understand the strange time requirements Reza was pushing on him, asked, “Bede’s body remains in the arisen’s possession?”
Reza opened her eyes, looking up at Metus, but could not speak, a powerful wave of grief and guilt sweeping over her. The kindled understanding of Lashik’s and his master’s dark intentions and powers, having their way with Bede’s body, and possibly her soul, easily painted a bleak, likely picture of what might have already become of her dear friend.
The silence prompted another question from Metus.
“This Lashik. You believe he will attempt to corrupt and raise Bede as one of his own?”
Reza’s continued silence moved Nomad to answer for her.
“Yes. Lashik made many threats to Bede during our encounter of that nature. And judging from the powerful understanding of the hexweave, I do not doubt he can make good on his threats. I have sworn to avenge her and do what I can to make sure Lashik does not enslave her body under his dark influence—just as Fin and Cavok have sworn to. This is why we must return as soon as possible. Bede’s body, and perhaps her soul, are at stake.”
“Ah,” Metus said, sitting back in his chair, considering the group’s uncovered motives. “That makes more sense.”
Letting out a sigh, care for Bede’s predicament obvious in his demeanor, Metus looked to Reza and said after a moment of consideration, “I cannot push the timeline earlier than a week to move on Brigganden. I will not endanger a great many lives for Bede—but if you are set on moving in to recover her body, then I can provide support for your recovery mission.
“Any supplies you need, they will be freely given to you. The fastest mounts, a guide to lead you quickly back, rations, weapons, armor, I can even offer you the aid of a few of my elite guard if desired. We will push as fast as we can to siege the city, but no doubt if you depart for Brigganden today, you will arrive many days before we are ready to attack, and you won’t be able to rely upon the support of the military of the Plainstate in any of your schemes.”
Reza now spoke, pushing past the sorrow attached to the subject of Bede.
“We will not endanger the lives of your troops. This is a mission we take on ourselves. The aid of supplies and a guide would be greatly appreciated, though. We lost almost everything we had getting here.”
Nodding his head, Metus said, “Very well. Leith will see to supplying you for your venture. I will assemble my council and set forth preparations for war immediately.”
Standing up, Metus came around the desk to offer a hand to Reza, clasping her arm reassuringly as he said in a softer tone, “I most likely will not see you again until after this soon-to-be war has ended. I surely hope I do not send you and your crew off to your deaths. It is an awfully risky task you have set out for yourselves, but I wish you all safety and luck. May you accomplish what you set out to do.”
“Thank you,” Reza whispered, clasping Metus’ hand firmly before he smiled and moved over to Fin and Cavok.
“Good luck, you two. Keep an
eye on each other,” Metus offered to the duo who were more sober than usual.
With that, Metus beckoned for Leith to follow him out of the study room, taking her aside to whisper something to her out of earshot of the group before departing, leaving Leith there with the group.
“Reza, when do you wish to depart for Brigganden?” Leith asked from the hallway.
“Immediately,” Reza answered, getting up to leave the room, the rest of the group following her lead, leaving the sun-warmed comfort of the study, heading off to the steel-lined palace armory.
37
Rearm
A bladed tail whipped threateningly by Nomad, the four-foot-tall wolf-like creature staring calmly and unblinkingly at him. Thick, black plates of natural armor ran along its back and underside—sharp, protruded claws showing, even in rest.
“They really are tame beasts,” Leith mentioned to Nomad, who wore his reservations for the beast on his sleeve.
“I know they look a bit—disagreeable—but they’ll follow the stable master’s commands, and if that means to follow your command, then that is what they’ll do. Much faster than a horse off trail, and much more intimidating to hostiles.”
“Yes, I am sure they are,” Nomad nervously replied, slowly offering a hand face down to the beast as a peace offering for it to sniff him. The beast just stood there, gaze still fixed on Nomad, not appearing interested in smelling the strange man in the least.
“Don’t worry, the trailblazer we’re sending with you knows each of these dolingers. If there are any problems along the trail, she can handle it.”
Giving up on making kind with his soon-to-be ride, Nomad turned to see what Jadu and Zaren were up to, seeing that Leith was now off to discuss something with Reza, who had just come into the stables from the armory, outfitted with the same garb they all wore now, save for Zaren and Jadu, who both insisted on only wearing their robes.
The outfit seemed to be of high quality. It was a light militia suit of thin plate mixed with a very light coat of mail. The patterning was one he had never seen in a mail weave before, and the alloy was unknown to him. The cloth and embroidery was some of the finest he had ever worn, and the sandy brown silk satin conformed and flowed with his every movement without much noticeable restriction or noise.
He had lost much of his previous attire in the battle with the hundred arisen, his armor taking so much abuse that it rendered it unusable. Though he had had that suit of armor for years now, it being one of the few ties he still had to his culture and people, the gear was beyond repair as it was already on its last leg even before being so brutalized in Brigganden. He had to admit, though he missed his old outfit, the new clothes and gear felt cool and comfortable on him now.
Nomad moved over to Jadu and Zaren who were in the shadows of the corner of the stables.
“Jadu, seems you intend to return to the city with us? It will be dangerous, and I don’t believe Fin, Cavok, or Reza expect this of you. Will you not stay here in Sheaf?”
Nomad’s words cut through the ongoing conversation between Jadu and Zaren, but the praven looked up instantly, leaving Zaren frustrated with the interruption. Jadu squinted his face together, seeming almost offended by the question.
“Well of course I’m coming with you! Zaren’s headed back to reclaim his tower, and I must help! He’s offered that I could be his understudy if I help him around the place as he prepares the rites necessary to usher the other enchanters back in from the dimensional rift they currently reside in. What an exciting offer, is it not?”
Nomad crooked his head, not sure how he felt of his strange friend’s motives for continuing on with them. He supposed Jadu and Zaren had little interaction with Bede, and to expect his, or the others in the group’s, level of dedication to her cause from them was slightly unfair, but he guessed he was more taken aback by the straight honesty from Jadu’s open motivation for tagging along than anything. Thinking of it then, Jadu had always been very open with why he desired to tag along, and never once had it to do with anything other than personal gain and scientific understanding.
“Then Zaren, you plan on heading back with us to the arisen city. Are you and Jadu to head straight to the tower, or do you plan to tarry with us until our mission is seen through?”
Nomad’s question to the old enchanter seemed to increase his displeasurable demeanor. Scrunching up his lips as though he suddenly had a bad taste in his mouth, Zaren looked sideways at Nomad and reluctantly answered
“Help your little, clueless band which I have already helped enough? Finding Jadu here was a good trade for the information I gave you of your foe, but overexerting myself in a weakened state, forcing Jadu’s first spell upon him so hastily on the cliffs, and now being asked to return and help you fight a foe who is so far above your understanding and ability that he’d sweep the floor with your corpses within a blink of confronting him without my aid, is not worth any talent you could present to me for a pupil—”
Zaren paused, drilling a crusty look at Nomad doggedly as he stalled before finishing his statement.
Nomad smiled smugly in return. He knew Zaren’s kind. Not enchanters, but he knew elders back home who on the outside showed an odd, and sometimes seemingly pointless, mulishness, but on the inside exhibited a betraying softness upon important matters.
Zaren’s crinkled lips scrunched even more so as he spat out hurriedly, “I’ll aid you where I can to retrieve your friends body from that arisen. After that though, I am done helping in your little adventures. To the tower it is for me and Jadu. You’ll be able to rely upon our talents no longer!”
“You honor us, and Bede. Thank you both for returning with us,” Nomad said with a small bow, getting an unpleasant grunt out of Zaren from the gesture.
Noticing a commotion over by Reza and Leith, Nomad watched curiously as a woman, the likes of which he had never seen before, enter the room.
She was tall, as to average female human height, but still a good six inches beneath Leith. She moved with the same grace present in Leith’s heritage, the haltia, but with an added swagger. Her hair was long, streaks of stark white running through her hazel braids, her highlights shimmering even in the shade cast by the roof of the stables. Her clothes showed openly her smooth, toned physique—skin a sun-kissed tan.
Her face was the most striking of all. Though most of her features were of a more average, but lovely, sandy colored silken tone, her eyes speckled with light traces of metallic sheen—green irises frosted with silver flecks.
He had seen wonderfully exotic races in his time, like that of Leith’s people, the haltia, and he had seen stunning, lusty beauty, like that in Reza and her people, the saren, but never had he seen the two so strikingly intermixed. He couldn’t help but to stare at her, taking in her presence.
“Reza, this is Arieoneth. Sultan Metus’ favored trailblazer and guide of the Plainstate—she’s also my little sister. She knows every brush trail and indigenous creature within our borders. A better guide you’ll not find within the Plainstate.”
The woman offered a slight bow to Reza, holding an arm over her chest as she did.
“Call me Arie. I’ll guide you to Brigganden. If we leave now, you and your company will be at its walls by tomorrow night.”
After Arie’s greeting, Reza replied with gratitude, exchanging names and pleasantries.
With hearing her smooth voice, one that seemed deceptively soft, but holding authority with every note, Nomad’s fixation only tightened, and Arie seemed to notice, making a side glance at him.
Reza noticed the direction of Arie’s gaze and offered, “This is Nomad,” walking the group over to him who was still fixed on Arie. She smiled amusedly at the enchanted man, seeming to be quite used to the response.
“He’s saved my life more than once and has shown his devotion and bravery in battle by our side. He owes us little and we owe him much. He’s quickly become a good friend of mine.”
Reza’s last statement, though she spoke it tersely, snapped him out of his bewitchment, looking to Reza who seemed to be over compensating her unusually sentimental words with a cold look on her face, an easy smile coming to Nomad as he considered her.
“Fin and Cavok are over there,” Reza said abruptly, obviously uncomfortable with the situation she had put herself in.
Expressing appreciation had never been a strong point for Reza, which Nomad had quickly picked up on about her. Working to contain his amusement, he watched as she now motioned for Arie and Leith to follow her over to her long-time companions.
As Leith turned to follow Reza, Arie turned to give Nomad one last glance, a smirk returning as she turned to follow Reza and her sister over to Fin and Cavok who were busying themselves with going through the new provisions they had been given.
Catching his gaze sinking down her lower back as she walked away from him, Nomad shook his head, not having to forcibly temper his will with women in a long time. He did not need such a distraction now, and he knew while he stood there, goggling like a youth, so easily taken by a pleasing body and pretty face, Bede’s immortal soul screamed out for his return and attention.
The sooner they were on the road, the better.
38
The Trail Back
The game trails had changed ever so slightly since the last time she had passed through the canyon’s rough terrain. The quadspire boars that inhabited the area had trampled old trails and created new ones through the shrub brush—but it was not enough to throw her off.
Finding the narrow shelf along the Desolate Rift’s canyon wall, the one that had given the group she now led so much trouble, the dolingers made quick work of scaling the narrow sloped shelf leading to the top of the cliff.
Just as the last dolinger that carried Jadu and Zaren crested the ledge, the deep-orange sun caressed the horizon, resting next to Desolate Peak, casting a purplish-red light all across the plains that seemed to stretch out forever.