Spellscribed: Resurgence (4 page)

"I actually figured part of that out, Kaelob." Endrance replied. "When Valeria died, I absorbed some portion of my mother's power and knowledge, but as a baby I couldn't process it. Everything I was capable of retaining was unconsciously kept. I don't even have anything catalogued in my library."

Kaelob was silent for a few seconds as he considered Endrance's statement. He looked around the chamber he was locked in, past Endrance, and into the chamber behind him.

"Ah, so there's more than just this room?" Kaelob responded. "Impressive. You've mastered the mental construct training I gave you."

The dead mage raised an eyebrow. "So, m'boy." he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Have you visited your subconscious lately?"

Endrance shook his head. "What?" he asked. "No, you can't go there. It's not an active portion of your mind and can't be formed into a construct like this. That's why it's the subconscious."

"Really?" Kaelob asked. "I guess that's something you have to be truly insane to unlock."

Before Endrance could form a reply, Kaelob spoke again.

"You haven't torn the information from me, so let me ask you something." he asked.

"Go ahead." Endrance answered warily.

"Did you know that people form constructs of their mind all the time?" The elder mage asked. "Not in a way they are aware, but it is done. Being in extreme pain for a long time, or the memories of a dead wife, or child. They form them to keep the memories alive, to lock out the pain, all without being aware of it."

"… Go on." Endrance urged, still cautious.

Kaelob had a satisfied look on his face when he spoke. "Did you know that the memories absorbed by a Mercanian can be affected by a strong enough mental construct?"

The mage vanished from his cell, blinked out of the grasp of Endrance's mind's eye. Even the absolutes of his cell did nothing to stop him. Elsewhere in his mind, he sensed that the memories he had taken from Kaelob were still there, but the sum impression of the man's ego and personality were missing. In that fraction of a second where Endrance considered it was possible that Kaelob was right, the man had taken that scrap of volition and fled somewhere Endrance had never considered going before.

When you figure out that subconscious thing, pay me a visit, will you? A thought rose to Endrance's consciousness.

Endrance's eyes snapped open to the real world, his face twisting into a scowl of frustration and anger.

"Dammit!" he shouted.

General Balen looked incredulously at the scout that was reporting to him. He grunted in dissatisfaction. The other generals had dispersed to direct their individual armies, and each had their particular goals and objectives. Balen's was to roll down the eastern coast and capture as many cities as possible.

"They still haven't noticed us yet?" he asked. "Disappointing."

The scout, a fresh faced younger man, sighed. "You want me to send them a notice or something?"

Balen glared at the man. "Are you saying you knew how to write all this time and you never thought to tell me?" he asked angrily.

The scout shied away from the general's angry gaze. "Well… no," the young man admitted, looking temporarily panicked. "But maybe we could shoot at them before we charge them?"

Balen stared at the man, his intensely angry gaze boring into the scout, as the young man realized he was not actually being asked to offer a suggestion.

The general pointed towards the tent flap. "Out." he commanded.

The man fled, looking both embarrassed and terrified.

Balen turned to look at the two Draugnoa who had been pointedly ignoring the entire report. He had a similar appearance to his brother, Joven. His chin was strong, his jaw square, and he had a massive, powerful frame wrapped in thick muscle. He was, however, half a foot taller and brown-haired instead of blonde.

He wore a black steel breastplate, forearm guards and calf-height boots. The rest of his body was swathed in light chainmail, though for the moment, his coif was pulled back and his helmet adorned a nearby table. The Inheritance, the axe of his family and a legacy of the line of Rothel, was slung on his back with a pair of thick leather straps. Joven had the original clips and loops for the weapon, but they had been lost when his body was not recovered in Ironsoul. For now, the barbarian general only carried the weapon on his back as a memento of his lost brother, and as a reminder of his motivation for spearheading the invasion.

Bridget, who had been struggling to refrain from laughing, had managed to hold off until the tent flaps closed.  Balen let out a pent up breath, looking exasperated.

"Give the kid a break." he grunted. "He barely made his first kill a month before we marched. We'll sound the war horns once our men are off the slopes. Last thing I want is an avalanche. If we're going to die in this campaign, it better be in glorious combat."

"Though considering what we have seen of their defenses, it's not likely to be very glorious." Bridget said, having calmed down a little. "I mean, maybe we should send an equal amount of men to take out the border watchers? At least then it'd be fair."

"I'd have to send out half as many men for it to be a challenge." Balen replied, shaking his head. "No, we're going to get all the challenge we want later on. For now, we will crush them with overwhelming force, and claim what land we want."

"Sounds good." Tanya stated, walking over to the maps hanging on the side of the tent. "What are your orders for us?"

Balen grunted again. "No one can give orders to the Draugnoa, except for the Spengur, and he's… not here right now."

He had, of course, refrained from stating that the substitute Spengur that had replaced Endrance since he disappeared had elected to not participate in the campaign. He had elected to not participate in the welcoming feast, nor even to partake in the normal day to day activities required of the Spengur. All he did was lock himself in the stone longhouse and occasionally take food that was given to him. Without Draugnoa to rely on for help, the poor man seemed deathly afraid of… well, everyone in Balator. The addition of the Wolfmen had not helped his mousey disposition.

"But," Balen continued. "If there were any Draugnoa nearby who were accomplished warriors and felt like going to this camp here," he jabbed his finger to one of the marked border camps on the map. "and quietly eliminate them so they couldn't alert the next in the chain, it would mean that the army would be able to move deeper into Iron Kingdom lands before their king found out."

"Got it." Tanya replied.

"I need to finish up here." Balen said dismissively. The two turned to leave, and while Tanya slipped out first, Bridget could hear Balen murmur something almost quiet enough to be to himself.

"I can't believe you're gone, Joven." Balen said quietly. "It just doesn't feel like you are."

Hours later, Tanya and Bridget dismounted and tied off their horses, leaving them a good distance away. Bridget crept forward while Tanya carefully set up and strung her bow so she could use it. The great horn bow required not only great strength to wield, but an equal amount of dexterity to direct that power accurately. The horns were bleached white, and the sides had been carved in elven runes on both sides. She slipped the strung bow into a fur-lined leather sleeve meant to keep it safe from the elements while she was hunting.

She had spent so much time with the elven archers that she had learned new techniques for shooting her bow, and had even managed to get one of their craftspeople to carve magic symbols into the bone. After countless hours of practicing with it, she learned how to focus her energy into the bow, imbuing the next arrow she fired with greatly magnified force. The horn bow already had more power in its shot than most bows, but with the new enchantments… Tanya had tried using it when boar hunting once. That night they'd had to make due with vegetables because she couldn't find enough of the creature left to feed one person, much less five or six.

She'd fired a few of the shots at the Archmagus when they had fought, but against him the arrows were ineffective. She had no idea how powerful the arrows would be against another mage, but at the current point it wouldn't matter. Ever since she had fallen from the sky and cracked her head when she hit the ground, she had been having difficulty concentrating. Now, whenever she'd spent too long concentrating, she would get headaches and her vision would blur. The blurring usually only lasted a few seconds, but the headaches would last for hours.

The bow now strung, the Draugnoa crept forward a hundred yards, finding Bridget crouched behind a rocky outcropping covered in shrubbery. The foothills of the mountain were scattered with rocks, trees and bushes; a sparse landscape, but full of cover. The sky above was overcast, though the clouds weren't yet dark and heavy with rain. A light but steady breeze blew icily through the area, humid enough to tell Tanya that rain wasn't too far off.

Sliding up next to Bridget, she glanced at her friend, who looked bored.

"Guy's taking a leak." the wooden-armed Draugnoa whispered. "Got two other people watching his back."

"Huh. Good." she said. "We should get started, or else the rest of the armies will get to have all the fun."

She glanced over the rock they were using as cover. Seventy yards away a man stood with his back to them, his feet spread shoulder width apart and one hand propping himself up on a tree as he relieved himself. His crossbow and spear were leaning against the side of the tree. The man wore an armored winter longcoat, which had wide metal studs set into the thick leather and fur. Two of the man's identically dressed and armed men waited for him a few feet away where they wouldn't smell him.

Tanya slowly rose to a kneeling firing position, sliding her bow from the sheath and drawing an arrow. The Balatoran black iron arrowhead was set so that the bladed head was horizontal to the ground, so that it would more easily go between ribs. She normally didn't carry man-killing arrows, but since she had agreed to take part in the invasion, she'd armed herself for battling human foes. She pulled back, feeling the tension in the bow mount as she drew on the man.

Bridget adjusted her grip on her weapons, holding a large curved chopping blade in one hand, and a short one in the other. Normally, the large blade would need two hands to wield, but with the strength and dexterity of the living wooden arm, she could wield it in one hand just as easily as the short blade in her human flesh arm.

Tanya took one breath, and then a second, holding it in for just an instant before she released both her breath and her arrow. The lethal shaft cut through the air with a barely audible whistling noise. The arrow hit it's mark right at the top of the man's neck, cutting through into his skull. The shot had enough force in it to shove the man's head against the tree and pierce the wood, nailing him to the trunk with a thunk that could be heard back to where Tanya was crouched.

The two men were surprised, staring at their dead comrade for several seconds before they realized that the man was actually dead. By the time they lifted their weapons and turned her way, she had released a second arrow and was pulling back on a third. The farthest away man was the next to fall as the arrow pierced his armor and sank deep into his ribs, dropping him on his back into the snowy dirt. The last man ducked and ran, but Tanya was able to easily read the course of his run and put an arrow into him before he got more than another dozen yards away. The man had proven his inexperience and had moved in a straight line.

Bridget scowled at Tanya. "You never let me have any fun." she grumbled good naturedly.

Tanya shrugged, sheathing the bow in it's sleeve. "If you want, I can sit out the rest of the camp." she offered. "Just pick off the ones who escape."

Bridget shook her head with a chuckle as the two of them slowly advanced on the dead men. "Naw," she declined. "I like it. Endrance was right to pick you."

Tanya might have blushed, but it was hard to tell with the cold and the wind. "I've been helping you all for years now and I still sometimes feel like I missed out on something important."

Bridget paused, studying the dead man nailed to the tree. "The first bit of trouble we had was, what's the word? Defining?" she shrugged. "Anyways, the first little adventure we had really brought us together. Anna's death was painful, but she's gone and you've been with us for many times longer. Time to stop thinking of yourself as an attachment."

Tanya sighed. "I know, I know." she said. "I'm sorry."

Bridget gave up trying to recover the arrow in the first victim. She glanced over at Tanya before moving to the next corpse to notice her rubbing at her temple. "Headache's back?" she asked.

"Yeah." Tanya replied, wincing. "I'm fine."

Bridget nodded, turning to the next man and carefully cutting out the arrow. She managed to get it out without breaking it, and wiped it off on the snowy grass before giving it back to Tanya. The last body had flopped around as he had died mid-stride, breaking the arrow at the mid point. Bridget dug out the arrow and handed the arrowhead to Tanya. She could carve a new shaft and attach flights to an arrow, but the black iron arrowheads were more difficult to replace.

They had gotten within fifty yards of the camp, and now crept ever closer. Nine men remained, milling about in their morning shift duties and checking their defenses. The bivouac was mostly just a campsite that would have been used for travelers on their way through the stone curtain, but since the fall of Ironsoul's unified kingdoms, it had been repurposed as an early warning patrol station. If their observations were right, the camps would run a circuit patrol, sending teams of three men on horseback from camp to camp, each set only traversing one such hop a day, but with enough teams crossing that they could maintain a somewhat stable patrol route without tiring out their men.

There was a single man working near the horses, getting three of them ready for the first leg of their patrol. Two other men besides him were arming themselves and checking their winter gear. The remaining six were more concerned with breakfast than with keeping their spears and swords within arm's reach. Tanya looked over the group and tapped Bridget on the shoulder, pointing to the men sitting around the fire. Bridget made a distasteful expression as she slipped away, hating what she was about to do.

The two Draugnoa had never been very stealthy; in fact, most barbarians found sneaking about to be a disgraceful technique. However, the Draugnoa had spent three years living in Salthimere, the land of the elves. They had gotten frustrated hearing complaints about their 'crashing around' the forest cities and had learned how to move through forested areas without making a lot of noise. While they were, at best, bumbling children compared to the elves or even the wolfmen, they had discovered later that they were still quite capable of avoiding notice from human ears.

Bridget moved around the outer perimeter of the camp, avoiding rustling leaves or crunching branches as she walked. Tanya drew another arrow, nocking it and placing her aim on the man closest to the horses.

Bridget drew her swords in one smooth motion and stepped into sight of the camp, within ten feet of the men sitting around the fire. Tanya scowled. The damn warrior just couldn't ambush someone, she needed to give them a fair chance.

"I am Bridget of Balator." The Draugnoa declared aloud, drawing shocked stares from the assembled men. "And I am here to either end your lives or accept your surrender."

The squad remained silent, gawking at the audacity of the barbarian woman. Bridget smirked.

"You have five seconds to decide." she said. "Five."

The men looked at each other, uncertainty obvious on their faces. "Four."

The man in the back decided. He grabbed up a crossbow and raised it at Bridget. Tanya let the arrow loose, sinking it into the neck of the crossbowman before he could release the trigger. "Three."