Army of the Dead (38 page)

Xavo nodded suspiciously as he stared at his lover. “I will rest a bit,” he conceded, “but why do I think you are trying to trick me?”

“Perhaps because you attribute your own sneakiness to others?” shrugged Lady Mystic. “I am not responsible for your thoughts.”

“Perhaps,” responded Xavo, “but I doubt it. You are up to something. You may try to distract me from your true intentions, but I know that you will answer my questions truthfully. When I am rested,” he asked pointedly, “will you try to stop me from entering Dobuk’s chamber?”

“No,” sighed Lady Mystic. “I have tried everything short of attacking you to get you to see reason, and I will not do that to you.”

“Well,” chuckled Xavo, “I think you actually did just attack me. Fortunately the only harm was a few bruises from falling to the floor.”

Lady Mystic tried to smile at Xavo’s attempt at humor, but she could not. She rose to her feet and straightened her clothes. Xavo also stood and continued staring suspiciously at his friend.

“Do not distract me by making me wonder about your motives,” Xavo said softly. “I must concentrate on what I will do inside the chamber. What trick are you planning to keep me out of there?”

“I will not stop you from entering,” declared Lady Mystic. “I know that your mind is made up. Forget about me and put your mind to the task.”

He knew that Lady Mystic was being truthful, but Xavo was still skeptical. He was missing something, and he knew it. He continued to frown at Lady Mystic.

“Get your mind on your task,” Lady Mystic said sternly. “We will have precious little time to act once we enter the chamber.”

“We?” echoed Xavo as his eyes grew large with disbelief.

“We,” Lady Mystic nodded determinedly. “While I may not be able to stop you from entering, you are also powerless to stop me from doing the same. If we are to die to help your daughter, we shall do so together. Now, what is your plan?”

Xavo stood silently as the extent of Lady Mystic’s love became clear. His eyes teared up with the knowledge that he was throwing away something he could treasure for many years, but he also knew that Lyra could not withstand Dobuk if the demon was uninjured. He sighed with finality.

“Shields are the most important spell we will need,” Xavo said. “It is vital to shield your mind from his attacks. Our bodies will quickly begin to wither and die with tormenting pain, but do not worry about it. We are assured death in the end. Dobuk can ill afford to keep us alive without Vand on the island to watch us. He will kill us. Keep your shields around your mind.”

“Alright,” nodded Lady Mystic, “and how do we injure him when we are concentrating on our shields?”

“I had planned to feign death,” admitted Xavo, “but with two of us, there is a better option. I will verbally spar with the demon. I will taunt him with Vand’s losses while you seek a crippling blow. Do not dally once we enter the chamber. Time will be limited. How are you feeling?”

“I am refreshed enough for this task,” replied Lady Mystic as she approached the door to the chamber. “Let’s do it.”

Xavo nodded sadly and moved alongside Lady Mystic. He nodded his head exaggeratedly, and on the third nod he threw open the door and charged into the chamber. Lady Mystic raced after Xavo and came to a halt alongside him. She looked around the room, a pall of confusion distorting her features.

“I expected something more,” she whispered as her eyes scanned the room. “Where is the demon?”

Xavo shook his head silently, his own eyes scanning the room with disbelief. The room was empty, devoid of furnishings or other exits. There were no mountains or vast plains. No lava flowed from towering peaks, and no sky was visible, angry or otherwise. It was simply an empty room.

“I do not understand it,” Xavo said softly. “This is the right doorway.”

“There are no other doorways on this level of the temple,” replied Lady Mystic. “There is the throne room, the exit to the roof, and this door. This is the right doorway.”

“Perhaps he is hiding,” frowned Xavo. “He may have changed the look of the room to avoid detection.”

“From the invading elves?” Lady Mystic shook her head. “I hardly think so. It is more likely that Dobuk has left the Island of Darkness. We have missed our chance to wound him.”

“Impossible,” scowled Xavo. “How could such a creature leave without our knowledge?”

“Easily,” shrugged Lady Mystic. “Even Vand left without our knowing it. Who can say what form Dobuk is capable of taking?”

“Do not harm them!” came a voice from behind the two mages.

Xavo and Lady Mystic whirled around to face the door that they had just come through. Standing before them was a large group of elves. Xavo recognized King Avalar.

“Welcome back, Avalar,” Xavo bowed slightly. “May I introduce Lady Mystic, Vand’s daughter, but an ally of the elves. I am Xavo, but I was Aakuta the last time we met.”

“I recognized the woman’s voice as the one who warned us of the Motangan flanking maneuver,” smiled the elven king. “I am pleased that the two of you have survived.”

“How did you manage to get up here?” asked Lady Mystic as she stared at the feet of the elves. “The stairs are covered in blood.”

“We came from the roof,” grinned King Avalar as he waved his men off to continue the search of the temple.

“How is the battle coming?” asked Xavo. “We saw your ships arriving before we had to come inside to battle the Motangans.”

“The battle is won,” answered the elven king. “I must thank you for the destruction of the catapults. Those engines would have cost the elves dearly. It seems that every time we meet, I incur a debt of gratitude to you,” he added with a grin.

“You owe me nothing,” smiled Xavo. “You are allies of my daughter, fighting an evil that must be fought.”

“Your daughter?” Avalar asked with confusion. “Do I know her?”

“His daughter is the Star of Sakova,” answered Lady Mystic. “What will you do now that you have conquered Motanga?”

“The island is being secured by the former slaves,” answered the elven king. “As soon as I am satisfied that the Motangans can not take it back, we are off to the mainland to help with the fight. Will you join us?”

Xavo and Lady Mystic glanced at each other with unspoken questions. Xavo smiled and returned his eyes to King Avalar.

“We will be going to the mainland,” declared Xavo, “but our answer depends on your destination.”

“Ah,” King Avalar nodded knowingly. “I am afraid that we are not heading to the Sakova. Our armies are needed elsewhere. The Chula have already taken Alamar and moved inland, so the Sakovan coastal cities are not in danger. The situation is more urgent elsewhere. If you will excuse me, I must see to my army.”

Xavo nodded pleasantly and let the elven king depart. Lady Mystic looked at her lover questioningly.

“Are you really planning on going to the Sakova?” she asked hopefully. “I was afraid that you would pursue Dobuk.”

“I must pursue him,” Xavo answered softly. “My task has not changed, but there is no need for you to leave. I did not want to mention anything to the elves until we had time to discuss it between ourselves.”

“If your task had not changed,” frowned Lady Mystic, “then why would you think that mine has? Wherever you go, Xavo, I am going with you. If you will have me,” she added questioningly.

“I think you would follow me even if prohibited it,” grinned Xavo. “As for having you, I could think of no one else I would rather have at my side. Let’s go find ourselves a boat. We have no need to wait for the elves to secure the island.”

The two mages walked out on the roof of the palace. They saw a large vine extending past the roof and walked towards it. Leaning over the edge of the roof, Xavo saw that the vine had been grown out of the ground, presumably by elven magic. He extended a hand to Lady Mystic and ushered her onto the vine. The two mages descended to the ground and made their way through the city. Just before the docks, they saw a large group of Motangan prisoners guarded by elven warriors. One of the prisoners was General Santiock. Xavo dropped Lady Mystic’s hand and approached the prisoners. Santiock saw Xavo coming and worked his way to the edge of the group of prisoners. He spat in Xavo’s direction.

“Tsk, tsk,” smiled Xavo. “That is no way for a general to act. I have something to tell you Santiock.”

“I do not need to hear anything from the lips of a traitor,” spat Santiock. “How could you do such a thing?”

“I am no traitor,” smiled Xavo. “In fact, I am not Xavo. I am Aakuta. I stole Xavo’s body from him before you rescued me. Still, I am grateful for your actions, so I will offer you some advice. The people that Vand is trying to destroy are your brothers and sisters. They are the descendents of those who fled from Vand a thousand years ago. Instead of blindly following such an evil, I beseech you to understand what is going on in this world. You are a good man at heart, and I think there is hope for you.”

“What hope?” snarled Santiock. “The elves will surely kill us.”

“After what our people have done to them,” interjected Lady Mystic, “it is understandable that you would think so, but you are wrong. The elves have no desire to kill those who wish to lay down their arms. They value life much more than Vand does. Think about it, Santiock. Your life depends upon it.”

The general’s eyes clouded in confusion. He watched Xavo and Lady Mystic turn and walk away. As their words echoed through his mind, he felt the bitterness drain from his body. He began to think about his life on Motanga, and how much he really knew about his professed enemy.

“Have you tried Sudamar or Eldamar?” asked Premer Doralin.

“Yes,” scowled Zatho. “I have tried every place that I could think of. The spell no longer works.”

“You are worthless, Zatho,” snapped the premer.

“How dare you speak to me that way?” retorted the Motangan mage. “Need I remind you that I report directly to the emperor? I shall report this disrespect to Vand immediately.”

“You will, will you?” snarled Doralin. “And just how will you do that?”

The black cloak frowned in frustration as he glared at the premer.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you, Zatho,” the premer continued menacingly. “I have never cared much for mages, and I have loathed you in particular. That you were the one mage to survive the battle of the ridge is a cruel irony. You are a pompous, arrogant, little weasel of a man.”

Zatho’s face bulged with rage. His arms quivered, and one of them began to rise. General Valatosa swiftly drew his sword and held it to the mage’s throat. Premer Doralin nodded in appreciation.

“If your finger so much as twitches in my presence again,” Doralin warned venomously, “you will die a slow and painful death. You need to be reminded that your fellow mages are dead and will not come to your aid. You stand alone in the midst of eighty thousand Motangan soldiers, who like myself, detest your kind. You will remove yourself from this tent and work on your air tunnel. When you succeed in getting it to work, you will return here before transmitting any message. I no longer trust you to communicate with others outside of my command without being overseen by someone loyal to me. Get out of my sight.”

Zatho was shaking with rage as he retreated from the tent. General Valatosa sheathed his sword and shook his head at the premer.

“You would have been better served to have ordered me to kill him,” the general advised softly. “A mage is not the type of enemy to turn your back on. Zatho will now seek to undermine you in any way that he can.”

“Zatho’s kind are all the same,” countered Doralin. “He would knife me in the back for lesser reasons than the ones I just gave him. I would have let you kill him if I was not in such dire need of a mage who knows the air tunnel spell. Once I get a message out of this infernal forest, I will let you kill him.”

“If he doesn’t get a message off to Vand first,” sighed Valatosa.

“I hope he succeeds,” shrugged the premer. “No one will come to relieve me of this command without bringing food with him. If our situation does not improve by this evening, I am ordering a fallback to Alamar in the morning.”

“Are you serious?” asked the general. “Vand will not like that.”

“I am past the point of caring what Vand likes or dislikes,” shrugged the premer. “Our men are starving, general. If we do not get food, we will lose the entire army. I prefer to retreat and take my punishment rather than watch men under my command starve to death.”

“Take your punishment?” echoed the general. “You do realize what you are saying? The only punishment you will receive is death. You must know that?”

“I know,” nodded Premer Doralin, “but it must be done. If we can retreat quickly to Alamar and get the men fed, we can then return here to chase the Sakovans. By the time anyone thinks of punishing me, we will have been victorious.”

“Ah,” the general smiled and nodded. “Now I understand. It will not be a retreat at all. We will merely be attacking to the east to make sure no Sakovans got behind us.”

“Exactly,” chuckled Doralin. “Zatho will have to die before we get back to Alamar. I will leave that in your hands.”

The tent flap flew open and a soldier ran in. He halted before the Premer and saluted.

“There are three Sakovans at the perimeter,” the soldier reported. “There are the two from yesterday and another one who claims to be the Star of Sakova.”

“What does she look like?” asked the premer.

“She is quite young,” reported the soldier, “clearly younger than the other two.”

“Younger than the other two?” echoed Valatosa. “StarWind and the other one were not very old. If this Star of Sakova is that young, perhaps we can make this a very short meeting. She can’t have much experience in negotiations.”

“Perhaps,” shrugged the premer. “Valatosa, you will go and verify this woman’s identity. If she is indeed the Star of Sakova, bring her here for a meeting. Make sure that she arrives here safely. I have given my word. I expect it to be obeyed.”

General Valatosa nodded and left the tent. The soldier was about to leave when the premer halted him.