The Curse in the Gift (The Last Whisper of the Gods Book 2) (43 page)

“What’s he planning?” muttered the king. “Why come north without a clear advantage?”

“He’s relying on his magic to provide the edge?” suggested Myselene.

Azarak shook his head. “He knows about Sorial and Alicia and he’s lost Ariel. He has something else planned. But what?” In a straightforward battle between Vantok’s eight thousand and The Lord of Fire’s ten thousand with Alicia and Sorial to counter Justin, Azarak felt confident the city would stand. The problem was, the enemy knew that as well and wouldn’t attack unless there was something to tip the balance - something hidden from Azarak and his military planners. Answering the “what?” question might be the key to winning the battle.

“Meet with the nobles and see if you can broker a deal,” said Azarak. “Let them keep a measure of the grain if they surrender the rest willingly. They’re more likely to negotiate with you than with me. They like you. Everyone likes you.”

“Including you?”

“Especially me. My beautiful, radiant, clever queen. In peacetime, your rule will lift Vantok to levels I could never have achieved on my own.”

Uncharacteristically, Myselene blushed at the compliment. She was used to flattery, but this was different, more heartfelt. And from someone whose opinion mattered. Over the past few weeks, since she had begun taking Gorton’s advice to replace Toranim as Azarak’s confidante, they had grown closer as husband and wife. Some of the darkness had lifted from the king’s countenance. It still lurked but she felt confident she could hold it at bay. That meant accepting more of the burden of rule, hearing his confessions and concerns, and arousing him in bed. Queen, advisor, and lover - she embraced all three roles with equal verve.

“Then let’s hope we get back to peacetime as soon as possible,” said Myselene. “In the meantime, I’ll charm the nobles out of their grain. I’ll learn their weaknesses from Gorton and use those against them.”

“As you did with Ambassador Uthgarb?”  Azarak admired the manner in which his wife had handled the fat man. His own approach would have been more blunt and less effective, likely involving a stint in the dungeon. After signing the agreement, Uthgarb had hastily departed for Basingham. An official missive was received two days ago indicating that King Durth planned to appoint someone new to the position. Uthgarb, it appeared, had had his fill of the queen’s hospitality.

“
Exactly
as I dealt with Ambassador Uthgarb. Sex, money, food... everyone has a vice. It’s just a matter of uncovering it and finding a way to exploit it.”

Azarak smiled.
She will indeed make an excellent queen in peacetime - and perhaps in war as well
.

* * *

Rexall and Warburm were waiting when Sorial descended the stairs into the cellar of The Wayfarer’s Comfort. No longer a refuge from the heat, it had returned to its normal function as a storeroom. There was also a secret exit that led to underground passages. This was as good a place as any to hold a clandestine meeting. Sorial recalled how, not that many years ago, Warburm had met down here with a “secret” cadre of confederates whose primary objective was to carry out Prelate Ferguson’s orders. One of their key objectives had been to compel Sorial to enter a portal. Those meetings had been fruitful and the identities of the members were no longer secret. One was Sorial’s father-by-marriage.

Rexall, true to his word, had enlisted in Vantok’s army the day after they had spoken at the river. At Sorial’s request he had been promoted to the queen’s personal protection retinue where, in less than two weeks’ time, he had established himself as one of her favorites. The red-haired soldier was dressed in a rumpled uniform with an insignia designating his regiment on his left breast. Warburm, as usual, was wearing a stained apron and clothing that appeared not to have been washed since before the trip to The Forbidden Lands. His affinity for dirt was in some ways more extreme than Sorial’s.

Sorial, whose time was at a premium, began without preamble. “I asked you both here because I need men of your... unique... skills. The war is nearly upon us. Most able bodied men are gonna be asked to risk their lives in battle. I need you two to serve differently.”

“Lad, y’know I be in this fer the long haul. When it comes ta serving my city in battle or some other way, I’ll not shirk my duty. Whatever the king asks of me, he’ll get.”

“Sor, I meant what I said when I came back; I owe you a debt that needs to be paid.”

Sorial nodded, having expected no less. Both men had proven unfaithful in the past but, in this instance, he believed their sincerity and, for what he was about to ask them, that was an essential quality. If things went wrong, much would rely on their actions.

“If Vantok falls, it ain’t the end of the war. The battle, yes, but not the war. Our belief is that the enemy’s plan is to sweep across the South, and perhaps the entire continent, with an aim of destruction and conquest. He wants to unify through fire and terror. There are two captives in the palace who, if they fall into The Lord of Fire’s hands, will make final victory easier for him.”

“Ferguson and Ariel,” said Warburm. The innkeeper understood what was going to be asked of him and didn’t flinch. He had done more difficult tasks in Ferguson’s service.

“We want them alive and in our custody. Each has value. The queen has negotiated an agreement with King Durth. In the event of Vantok’s evacuation, a refugee camp will be set up on the outskirts of Basingham. If the city is in danger of falling, your mission is to transport both prisoners to that refugee camp. If that ain’t possible for whatever reason, it’s better for them to die than for The Lord of Fire to take them alive. Ferguson’s got a trove of information locked in that ancient skull and Ariel is his ally. If he re-takes her, she’ll be fighting against us in the next campaign. That can’t happen.

“I know I may be asking you to be assassins. But this is war. The consequences of The Lord of Fire winning at Vantok are bad. The consequences of his conquering the South are worse. If he can establish a conclave of wizards with unquestioning loyalty, no power will be able to stand against him. He’ll be able to take the world.”
And perhaps more
.

“Lad, who knows ’bout this?” asked Warburm. “It ain’t the kind of thing I’d expect to be publicized.”

“The two of you, me and Alicia, and the king and queen.”

“That’s it?” Rexall was surprised.

“That’s it. Even Overcommander Vikon don’t know.” Sorial handed Rexall a key. “This is a spare to Ferguson’s cell. If the palace is emptied, the guards will be under strict orders to leave Ariel and Ferguson behind. Her cell in the dungeon will be unlocked. She’s immobile so you’ll need a litter to remove her unless you want to carry her over your shoulder. Ferguson will be able to walk, although his age needs to considered. You’ll also need a supply of Ariel’s drug to make sure she stays asleep on the road to Basingham. I’ll have it delivered to the inn once the battle is imminent.”

“And what if we get to Basingham and none of the four with knowledge of the mission survives the battle of Vantok?” asked Rexall.

“Keep them alive for as long as is practical, then do what you gotta do. If you run out of Ariel’s drug, you won’t have no choice. If she regains her senses, she’ll be able to use magic. As for Ferguson... His usefulness ends if Alicia and I die. At that point, he becomes excess baggage. If you’re sure we’re gone...”

Both men nodded silently.

“Stay away from the front lines and out of harm’s way. If you die and your job ain’t done, both prisoners will fall into enemy hands, and the way of life as we know it will end.”

* * *

It could have been worse.

Justin kept repeating that like a mantra.

It could have been worse.

Ariel was captured, not dead. The tenuous magical link he had forged with her remained active, although it offered no clue about the state of her health and general well-being. He assumed she was unconscious but couldn’t be sure. Her continued existence meant that her brother was either too feeble to eliminate her or, more likely, that he had been unable to find a successor.

Magically, Justin now found himself outnumbered. He silently cursed his blindness where Sorial’s paramour had been concerned. Of course Ferguson would have paired his pet wizard with another of equal talent. What better way to breed a new race of magical puppets? Now, with The Lady of Air effectively removed from consideration, it was two against one. But Justin’s experience would more than compensate for the numerical disadvantage. In a head-to-head struggle, he felt sure he could destroy them both, but that wasn’t a situation he wanted to court. There was still risk and it would force him to employ too much energy - energy better expended at other times in other ways.

He had observed Ariel’s fall from afar, helpless to aid her. Although she had ignored his demand that she send for him when she located her brother, she had at least provided the means by which he could observe the confrontation. She had lit a small fire and used her power to blow a single ember from that fire all the way to Justin’s camp in The Forbidden Lands. By the time he had received the tiny glowing fragment, it was too late to do anything, but there was enough heat remaining in the cooling ashes for Justin to capture the images the flames had been witness to.  So his magical vision had shown him the fire’s perspective of Ariel’s brief battle with Sorial, the ambush by The Lady of Water, and the aftermath. No doubt Ferguson was gleefully examining her now - the one who got away, unwillingly brought back to him.

Tactically, it wasn’t a disaster. Aware that Ariel’s powers were fading as a result of overindulgence in her early years as a wizard, he had never planned to involve her significantly in the battle. She would have been on hand for back-up and surveillance. And the addition of The Lady of Water to Vantok’s defenses could be compensated for; at this stage of her development, she was unlikely to contribute anything substantive. But what disturbed Justin was how
unnecessary
it all was. Ariel had been stupid and arrogant and this was the result.

Perhaps the biggest blow resulting from the debacle was the dissipation of the Vantok heat bubble when it would have done the most damage. Justin’s original plan had been to wait out Summer before launching his attack. By that time, not only would the city have been partially depopulated but those who remained would be tired and beaten down. The advantage was now gone. The moment Ariel had slipped into unconsciousness, her ability to stabilize the bubble had been severed. Now Vantok was experiencing normal weather for this time of year and, as a result, Justin’s army would have to contend with several thousand additional soldiers.

The end of the heat wave was forcing Justin’s hand. The time to wait was over. In truth, his men were anxious to move. Ten thousand strong and comprised primarily of nomads and mercenaries, his army was as disciplined as it would ever be; even without his magic, he suspected they could take Vantok. But nothing was certain and losing half his force in a “victory” would be as good as a defeat.

His plan was solid. Sorial wasn’t the only one who could spring a trap. Recent misfortunes had robbed him of an immediate successor to Sorial but the position could remain vacant until Justin located the next Lord of Earth. A similar situation applied to Water. And if Ariel died before or during the battle... it was possible that, when the Battle of Vantok was concluded, he would be the only living wizard. Not ideal, to be sure, and not what was needed for him to attain his ultimate goal, but a better situation than the one in which he currently found himself.

“Your Greatness,” rumbled a voice from behind. It was Justin’s head general, a mercenary of such ferocity that even the wizard found him intimidating. Towering nearly eight feet tall, Gerthak was the biggest and ugliest man Justin had ever encountered. His pate was bald but he made up for it with a full, unkempt beard, a mat of coarse hair on his chest, and tufts of it dotting his back. His face, not pretty to begin with, was a mass of scars. His nose had been broken five or six times and his left eye gouged out. He had no ears although he could somehow hear. The two-handed broadsword he wielded was so heavy that Justin wouldn’t have been able to lift it an inch above the ground. The wizard wondered if the giants of legend had ever interbred with humans. If so, Gerthak could be the descendant of such a mating. There were things about him that weren’t entirely human.

“Are the men ready, General?”

“As ready as these maggots’ll ever be, Your Greatness.”

The man was deferential; his gruff voice expressed genuine respect. Justin didn’t know where Gerthak hailed from but from the day he had appeared in camp eight weeks ago, he had taken charge. Discipline and order had improved markedly. The general was his single greatest asset and Justin intended to use him.

“Very well. The order to march is given.”

“Aye!”

As the army prepared to abandon the camp and take to the road, there was one last thing to be done. After the general departed, Justin withdrew a long-necked brass bottle from his warded wooden chest of personal items. He contemplated it for a moment before prying loose the stopper and releasing the efreet
from its temporary prison.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: A STORM TO THE SOUTH

“Well,” said Sorial. “Now we have at least one thing we can offer to the war effort.” He was buried up to mid-chest in thick, sucking mud - a sludge from which the only means of escape was to use magic. As The Lord of Earth, he had nothing to fear, but if he had been a normal man, he would be slowly sinking to his death with no hope of salvation. He felt as if unseen tentacles had wrapped around his legs and were pulling him under.

Alicia sat cross-legged on the ground just outside the “danger area.” They had been experimenting with different formulas for the better part of the morning, giving her a much-needed reprieve from the library. She was filthy, with mud splattering her blouse, trousers, and exposed skin, but nowhere near as messy as her husband. “I guess it was worth it, although this was more an earth-project than a water-one. So we can clean up and get back to the city?”

Sorial laughed. “You don’t enjoy playing in the mud?” Recalling their first night together, he didn’t think she was averse to getting a little dirty.

“I’m okay with it as long as it’s
clean
mud and there’s a nice, long swim at the end.” She glanced pointedly in the direction of the river, which was about twenty feet away.

“Ain’t never heard of
clean mud
. Is that a term only The Lady of Water understands?”

“The word
clean
is one The Lord of Earth had better become acquainted with if he wants to continue sharing my bed.”

With a smile, Sorial sunk beneath the surface. Moments later, he emerged a few feet away, naked and scrubbed clean with only a few flecks of dirt adhering to his skin. “Did you know that people who live in arid climates ‘bathe’ by rubbing sand over their bodies?”

Alicia ignored him. “Doing this over a large area is going to be taxing. More of a strain on you than me. We won’t be able to do it around the entire city.”

“We wouldn’t want to. We need to keep a wide escape route open. Probably half the perimeter. If we ringed the city, we’d be trapping our people inside. I’ll let the battle commanders determine the most effective location.”

“It’s nasty stuff,” said Alicia, looking at the patch of ground that had pulled down Sorial. Over the past few hours, they had tried a variety of different recipes, varying the ratio of earth to water and the amount of magic used to bind it and give it strength and body; this was by far the most lethal. It was impossible to know how close it was to the concoction developed at Blixin but it was effective enough for its projected use at Vantok. It wasn’t intended to swallow up The Lord of Fire’s entire army - just thin out the ranks. Until someone stepped into it, it looked like solid ground. But a person’s weight, even that of a hefty child, would be enough to crack the surface. Then the sucking power would trap the victim and gradually pull him under. Its tenacity was such that, once the man was in above his ankles, escape was impossible without help and, once past his knees, even a horse tied to a rope wouldn’t have the strength to free him.

“I did something like this in Havenham, to trap Langashin.” Sorial had drawn heavily on that memory this morning. “But the addition of water makes it stronger and keeps it in place. It gives us a weapon that Justin hopefully ain’t gonna suspect us of having.”

“We make a good team - earth and water,” said Alicia.

“Let’s hope we’re good enough to save Vantok. We’d better clear up the ground here so some trespasser don’t fall victim. Then you can take your bath while I pay a visit to our esteemed prelate.”

* * *

Ferguson sat on the floor rubbing his abraded feet while Sorial stood above him. The wizard’s decision to remove the punitive stone footwear had been made more from a concern for how Ferguson’s mobility would be compromised during a possible evacuation than from a belief that the prelate had been sufficiently chastised. As humble as Ferguson might seem at the moment, it was unlikely to be a prolonged attitude. Eventually, if he lived long enough, he would revert to form. Humility was an unnatural state for the prelate - not surprising considering he believed himself to be the chosen of the gods.

“Thank you, Your Magus,” he said, massaging soles that looked like they had been torn by thick brambles.

“After I leave, I’ll have someone bring an ointment. I don’t want those open sores to fester. Blood poisoning would be a quick death and I’m taking pains to keep you alive. But I didn’t just come here to relieve you from your suffering. I need information. What can you tell me about Justin? You said he was a member of your inner circle but what do you know of his goals and ambitions? Is he clever? Is he a risk-taker?”

“Anything I say could be inferred by studying his actions. He’s undoubtedly changed greatly since he and I broke bread together. The Justin I knew was a devout, clear-headed man. He came to the Temple as the dissolute younger son of an important noble in Basingham. Allowed to live an undisciplined youth, he fell for the usual temptations: spirits, women, and laxity. He became cruel and self-absorbed. By the time I met him, however, he was reformed. Over the brief course of our relationship, he proved to be a most capable assistant. As time grew short, I entrusted him with tasks of greater importance, culminating with a mission to The Forbidden Lands to seek out rumored second and third portals.

“As you know, one was eventually confirmed at Havenham. There is reason to believe there may be another farther south but we’ve never been able to locate or identify it. Justin was to scour the regions about which we know so little and prove or disprove the rumors. The last report I received from him was sent by bird when he was near the northern reaches of the mountains. It was around the time the gods passed from existence. I was not in my right mind for some time after that traumatic event and, by the time I gathered the shreds of my sanity, there was little choice but to give Justin up for dead.

“I’m ignorant of the events that led him to enter a portal, or whether he used the one in Havenham or discovered another. I can only speculate about what brought Justin and Ariel together.

“Of the things I know about him, a few may be germane. He was an accomplished reader and writer, so it’s likely he spent many hours in libraries studying ways to hone his craft. He most likely discovered the location of the Yu’Tar library, visited it as I did, and learned many of its secrets. It’s there that the most complete discussions of The Otherverse can be found and there that he likely formulated a plan to mount an assault on it. If you believe for a moment that his ambitions extend only to the conquest of the human cities, you’re mistaken. No matter how much self-control he’s shown in shepherding his powers, he must be near the end. For him, the time for patience is past. He has to strike fast and hard and risk everything. He undoubtedly seeks immortality, the prize so recently spurned by the gods as a curse. Looking death in the face either makes a man resolute about his fate or spurs him to fight against it. Justin’s nature argues for the latter, and he may have found a path to achieve what no known mortal has accomplished. But his actions may be reckless, especially now that he’s lost a key ally.

“Justin was always shrewd and calculating. He never developed emotional relationships with others. Perhaps that’s why we got along so well - we were alike in many ways. I doubt those characteristics have changed. Before he came to the priesthood, he was a cruel and capricious child; attaining the power of a wizard may have brought that buried personality to the fore. The manner in which King Rangarak was slain argues for someone who seeks not merely victory but victory in a brutal and sadistic manner. He undoubtedly views human beings as inferior and treats them as such. “

“What about his grasp of military tactics?”

“At the time I knew him, he had no special interest in or gift for martial matters. That may have changed since but my guess is that the majority of his efforts have gone into advancing his magic. It would be a waste for a wizard to spend precious time mastering strategy. He will most likely have a core group of generals he relies on for such matters. He has no experience in directing a major campaign and that may show, but his usage of magic will make this far from an ordinary battle. If you and Alicia can blunt his effectiveness, it becomes a conventional ground war and the result will be determined by the quality of the leaders and the tenacity of the soldiers. Justin doesn’t want that but you do. It’s paramount that you and Azarak’s generals formulate an overall strategy that prioritizes neutralizing Justin. If he’s given free rein, he’ll win.”

“Taking Ariel probably advanced his timetable. While the bubble was in place, there was a reason for him to wait. Now, that’s no longer the case. I expect we’ll get an understanding of his grasp of military matters soon.”

Sorial’s statement was prophetic. The next day, as he was helping a farmer eradicate a persistent and damaging nest of rot-grubs, he received an urgent summons to join the king in the “war room.” Advance scouts had spotted a large group of men moving north toward the fringes of The Forbidden Lands.

The war room was in actuality Azarak’s private audience chamber. The chairs had been removed and a huge map of the city and its environs was spread out on the table. When Sorial arrived, seven others were already present: the king and queen, Alicia, Chancellor Gorton, and the city’s three top generals, including Overcommander Vikon, a man who did little to hide his mistrust of Vantok’s new wizards.

Earlier, as he had passed through the city and the palace grounds, Sorial had noted the sense of urgency and purposeful bustle. This wasn’t an ordinary day and everyone knew it. Vantok had been openly preparing for war since the departure of the Obis contingent but this was different. Now, it was no longer a possibility. It was
reality
.

“Ah, Sorial,” said Azarak as the wizard entered. “The invasion we’ve been anticipating has begun. Less than an hour ago, Overcommander Vikon informed me that our scouts along the northern fringes of The Forbidden Lands have observed the entirety of The Lord of Fire’s army pouring north out of the mountains. Estimates of their numbers are in excess of ten thousand men with an additional one to two thousand retainers - cooks, supply wagon managers, whores, and so forth. The report reached us nearly a full day after the army was sighted, so we have to assume they’re well onto the plains by now and headed this way.  That puts them three to four days’ hard march away.”

“It seems unlikely that surprise is part of their plan, so they may wish to husband their stamina rather than waste it in a fast march that will yield little military capital,” suggested Vikon. Although he was ostensibly addressing Sorial, his eyes were fixed on the king. “We should know more when the next report arrives in about six hours. My standing orders are that, upon first sighting of a marching enemy force, dispatches were to be sent at six hour intervals.”

“We’ve been developing a battle plan for some time. If this was just a conflict of conventional forces, I’d feel better prepared, but the infusion of magic into this war places us in uncertain territory,” said Azarak.

“What’s notable,” interjected the Overcommander, “is the lack of cavalry. I guess horses ain’t easy to come by in The Forbidden Lands, but my scouts observed less than one hundred riders. I’d dearly love to be able to send a full battalion against them but we’re going to need every horse to help with the evacuation and most of the animals in Vantok ain’t suitable for use in war, anyway. Nags and bays, most of ’em. We’ve got some cavalry from Basingham and Earlford and a small force of our own. That should be enough to counter anything they send against us and harry their flanks.  But we can’t mount a full-blown charge. So it’ll be trench warfare, archers, and hand-to-hand.

“We’re going to ring the city halfway round with two trenches. They’ll stretch from where the river enters the city environs to the northeast to where it passes beyond in the southwest.” Vikon used a riding crop to indicate markers on the map that represented his defenses. “The outer one will be filled with spiked poles. That kind of tactic works better against cavalry but it will slow them down so our archers can pepper them as they’re navigating it.  The inner one is where our advance force will be stationed. All indications are that they’ll attack from the south-southeast, so we’ll make that the core of our defense. The evacuation route will be to the west and northwest, crossing the river using the ford and bridges at the public bathing areas. That should be far enough from the fighting to allow maximum survival of those leaving the city. We have a fairly high confidence the enemy won’t circle around and attack from the north. While such a strategy might hold some appeal, the need to ford the river upstream makes it a difficult proposition.”

“Especially since we have The Lady of Water on our side,” said Azarak. “Justin knows this and won’t put his troops in danger by forcing them to enter a body of water. To avoid a river crossing, he’s going to have to attack across the trenches. We’ve already begun an evacuation of the southern and eastern farms. Those who choose to remain in the city during the battle will be relocated from the eastern quarters to the west.”

“I’m sure the nobles will be thrilled by that prospect,” said Alicia.

“They won’t have a choice. Relocate or leave - those are the options,” huffed Vikon. “Martial Law goes into effect at sundown tonight and I’m not going to coddle anyone just because he has a title in front of his name.”