The Dreaddrac Onslaught (Book 4) (29 page)

“What’s wrong?” Dreg asked, seeing her hesitation. He stepped forward, but she motioned him back with her free arm.

“The spells merged in my head for a moment,” she said, “Nothing to worry about.” She turned back to the cart and mumbled to herself, “What harm can come of it anyway? It’s just a cart, that can’t be difficult.” Self-confidence restored, she cast her spell. Earwig and Dreg both held their breaths. The board rose and expanded until it filled the space between the two magnificent wheels with a complete, if fragmented, cart. Earwig jumped up and down in her excitement, her gelatinous body gyrating here and there with ripples of undulating flesh.

“I did it! I did it!” she repeated over and over, clapping her hands at her success.

Dreg said nothing, just rushed to find the rock-horse and harness it to the cart before something horrible happened to the pieces of this puzzle. The rock-horse, having no emotion, followed Dreg’s lead. When the horse and cart were ready to roll, Dreg helped Earwig up on the seat after tying the semi-conscious ghoul, still holding its detached arm, to the back of the cart.

“I hate to drag that thing in the dirt behind the cart, but I’m not riding with it on the cart behind me, tied up or not,” Earwig said adamantly. She looked back at the living dead, then turned to Dreg. Dreg nodded in agreement. “If it loses some of its parts, so be it. That will teach the ghoul not to attack a lady.” The horse plodded forward and ambled back down the road to the stream where they’d lost their boxes of Earwig’s treasures.

When they reached the stream, Earwig shot wizard-fire at the ghoul’s remains that still had a good arm and a good leg. Bouncing on the road had deprived the creature of its other foot, half its tattered skin, and one eye. Undisturbed by the changes, Earwig commanded the ghoul to search the stream for her boxes of ingredients and most especially her spell books.

As the ghoul limped into the water, the rat, still hiding after Earwig’s earlier transformation, came to the burrow entrance. Rats and ghouls compete for the same bodies and tend to be secondary food sources for each other. Still affected by the spell Earwig put on it, the rat dashed out with unusual daring and grew in size as it ran toward the living corpse. The rat’s teeth grew again into fangs and the eyes turned blood red as the rodent leapt at the shredded ghoul.

Dreg and Earwig looked on in horror as the rat, now half the size of a man, seized at the ghoul’s throat, attempting to tear it out. Being dead, the ghoul seemed not to notice its open throat exposed to the neck bones. The two fought viciously in the stream.

Earwig slammed her clinched fists on the cart seat. “That rat monster is interfering with the ghoul’s mission to find my spell books.”

“Do something to that rat ‘fore it turns on us,” Dreg said.

Earwig drew herself upright on the cart seat, extended her arms once again, and shot wizard-fire at the two combatants, but it missed the rat and knocked off a large chunk of the ghoul’s flesh beneath its ribcage.

“Be careful, Miss Earwig, the ghoul is on your side,” Dreg said, fiddling with the reins to the horse.

Earwig chewed her already gnawed off finger nails.

“I must be careful; can’t afford another mistake.” She looked at Dreg and nodded her head. “This will subdue the rat.” She mumbled her spell and shot her wand at the fighters that were ripping each other apart.

“Oops, wrong spell. I can’t get them all right, you know,” Earwig said. She turned red and fidgeted. “I do hate working under this kind of pressure.”

The spell turned out to be a hybrid of two spells used earlier. The rat began to turn to stone, while the rock-horse harnessed to the cart turned into a huge fanged rat. The rat-horse gnawed the harness and raced off up the road to freedom. In the midst of all the magic flying about, the duplicate cartwheel began to shrink, and before Earwig could stop the decaying spell, the cart rested at a forty-five degree angle on one rotting wheel.

Neither Dreg nor Earwig said anything about the mix-up. Dreg hitched the ghoul’s sticky remains to the listing cart and they started back up the road to Dreaddrac once more.

“Well, at least we have a ride now,” Earwig said. Her nose scrunched up. “I must admit the stench of that rotting thing makes me miss that gasbag nag you found.”

“Uh huh.”

The one-armed, leg and a half corpse crawled along, dragging the listing cart north up the road in the darkness. The wheel squeaked, and the cart boards creaked as the magic that created them began to slowly unravel. The two passengers clung to the cart’s upper side to keep from sliding off until their arms and bodies ached from their twisted positions.

“I miss Zendor,” Dreg let slip.

“So do I,” Earwig said as the groaning ghoul remains dragged the cart through another pothole, jostling the two riders nearly off the seat. Mercifully, they encountered no other travelers on that slow, painful passage through the night.

King Saxthor entered the grand audience hall of Helshian Court Palace from the private council chamber behind it. He stood looking out over the generals and admirals assembled before him, perhaps for the last time before the unfolding war. The hall was filled beyond them with richly attired ambassadors, high nobles of the realm, and palace servants awaiting the king’s instructions. The shimmering metals and braid ropes of the generals’ uniforms, the plumed helmets, and clinking sword scabbards, and the nobles’ silks, velvets, and jewels were a fine complement to the polished marble walls, columns, and kingdom’s map displayed in colored marbles on the mosaic floor. Saxthor studied the faces. 

This magnificence may not be seen again for a very long time. Are these generals and admirals the men that will stop the hordes pouring out of the Munattahensenhov at this moment, he asked himself. There’s General Socockensmek conferring with General Sekkarian down front before the throne. And over there’s Admiral Agros consulting with the Sengenwhan Admiral behind them. I can’t remember the Sengenwhan admiral’s name; I must ask the chamberlain.

Other supportive generals and admirals deliberated with provincial governors and ministers. Most, Saxthor had inherited from his mother and father. Many, he didn’t even know. His thoughts were interrupted by the chamberlain, stamping his staff of office on the marble floor.

“All bow before his majesty, King Saxthor!” bellowed the chamberlain as Saxthor stepped forward and took his seat on the throne. He nodded to the chamberlain, who then ordered the guards to close the bronze doors.

“We welcome you all to this conference on the state of the kingdom and the developing threat to the north,” Saxthor said. He looked across the hall at all participants for emphasis. “We command you to speak nothing of what’s said here outside this hall lest we panic the general population.”

The assembled military and ministerial leaders of the kingdom mumbled briefly, turned to the king, and bowed deeply.

“Many of you know Graushdem is under attack in the north and Sengenwha has fallen once again to Dreaddrac’s armies to the northeast.” Saxthor waited for the strained chatter to subside. “We think King Grekenbach of Graushdem will give General Vylvex’s army quite a fight in the north,” King Saxthor said. “What say you to this analysis?”

“What of Hador, Your Majesty?” Someone in the crowd asked.

“Hador has been bypassed.” 

Muffled chatter rose from the great hall; the faces of nobles and courtiers were twisted as the participants looked to each other in disbelief.

Saxthor scanned the room.

General Socockensmek stepped forward. “King Grekenbach is an able general. He knows the history of Dreaddrac’s troop movements on the peninsula, but we still don’t know where General Vylvex intends to strike.”

Several other generals nodded and mumbled among their close associates.

General Sekkarian stepped forward beside Socockensmek. “Majesty, I worry about the fate of Hoya and the northern provinces of Talok and Lemnos. I’ll hold the Hoyahof against a siege so long as I can, of course. However, General Tarquak is consolidating his army in Sengenwha. If he marches east and seizes Botahar with little resistance, then moves across the Pundar and attacks Hoya from the south, we would be under siege in the city and unable to prevent his movement through our northern provinces.”

“We think Tarquak unlikely to range through the provinces with the garrison at Hoya at his back. Still, we must consider he may need to plunder to provision his army,” Saxthor said.

Sekkarian stepped forward, and Saxthor nodded that he might continue. “Should General Vylvex bypass Graushdemheimer and follow the eastern Heggolstockin border, he could follow the upper Pundar and attack Hoya from the north. If both generals march on Hoya, we would be trapped between the two armies. Under those circumstances, we would be cut off. Reinforcements would have to defeat General Tarquak’s army to relieve Hoya. Basically, we would lose Talok and maybe Lemnos, with the fall of Hoya. The two generals must not be allowed to coordinate an assault on Hoya.”

There was a great commotion in the hall. Saxthor raised his hand; the chamberlain smacked his staff on the floor, commanding attention to the throne. The silenced court turned to the king.

Never before have I felt so totally responsible for so many, Saxthor thought, seeing the representatives of his nation turn to him for hope in their despair. I pray I may be worthy of their faith.

“If that is the scenario, I must agree with General Sekkarian,” General Socockensmek said. “However, that would leave General Vylvex deep within Graushdem’s borders without any reliable supplies. King Grekenbach could attack his supply lines and cut him off, trapping him between the Graushdem army at his rear and General Sekkarian to the south coming from Hoya. I should think he would hesitate to expose his lines like that. My experience makes me think General Vylvex will turn back to subdue Hador, then move to neutralize Heggolstockin in the west or Graushdemheimer before attempting to involve Neuyokkasin in the war.”

General Sekkarian stepped forward again, apparently about to reinforce his argument. Saxthor raised his hand and nodded to General Socockensmek to continue.

“General Tarquak has already shown his cowardice in his capacity as general in life and again in his abandonment of his troops in the first battle for Sengenwhapolis. Only the dragon Ozrin’s backing and fear of Dreaddrac’s king convinced him to return. I think it unlikely that he’ll take to the field of his own accord. My intuition tells me General Tarquak will take his time consolidating his hold on Sengenwha and only return to the field when his master threatens him.”

“Does Memlatec have any insight he would like to share with us,” Saxthor asked. Each general has his own agenda to protect, but the court wizard has Neuyokkasin’s interests and the southern kingdoms at heart, he thought.

“I can only tell you that Prince Pindradese of Prertsten is amassing his army along the Akkin River on Heggolstockin’s western border. My watchers inform me that both the Prertstenians and Dreaddrac’s minions are there and under the prince’s command,” Memlatec replied. “If Prince Pindradese and his forces attack Heggolstockin, it will tie up Graushdem’s forces in the west. King Grekenbach will have only minimal forces to defend the capital. Vylvex may well risk the attack on Graushdemheimer but not likely Hoya.”

“Your Majesty, we must keep the two southern armies at Hyemka and Heedra to support the garrisons at Olnak and Favriana in case General Tarquak marches south on Neuyokkasin,” General Socockensmek pleaded. “We must not deplete the forces there to support Hoya now. We can’t dilute our newly trained and untested armies. They’re spread too thinly along the border with Sengenwha as it is.”

“Well, the Hoyahof is already under-garrisoned,” General Sekkarian interjected adamantly. “We dare not move the garrison at the Talok Tower again. Your majesty knows personally what that would invite.” The general crossed his arms, dug in his heels, and stood facing General Socockensmek with a defiant stare.

Another general at the back of the room shouted his approval of General Sekkarian’s warning about the Talok Tower. Saxthor saw a major beside him nodding his agreement.

The generals are in no mood to compromise or look at the overall situation, thought Saxthor. Each feels he has insufficient troops to defend his assigned lines. Memlatec isn’t giving guidance either. Once again, I’ll have to decide on the disposition of the armies and hope my insight is correct. The situation is grim at best.

“We think our troops are spread too thinly as it is. Both of you generals will hold your assigned lines with the troops you have. Continue to strengthen your fortifications and further train your troops. We want daily reports on the disposition of both our own forces and the enemy’s movement as your scouts can discover,” the king commanded.

“As there are no forces left available to put in the field other than the legions guarding the southern border with the Powterosian Empire, we will lead the Royal Household Guards personally to relieve Botahar. If what you say about his lack of courage is true, that will alarm General Tarquak. He’ll most likely hole up in Sengenwhapolis, preventing a dual attack on Hoya or a frontal assault on the Neuyokkasinian border, at least for a while,” the king continued.

“Your majesty cannot expose his person to attack or capture!” General Socockensmek said. There was a general uproar in the hall. The chamberlain pounded his staff on the floor, and the leaders looked to the throne.

“All would be lost should your majesty be captured or killed,” Sekkarian added.

“We must do something to prevent coordinated attacks on Hoya, even if it means risking our own person, General,” Saxthor replied. “None here can spare the troops or leave your armies at this time. We, with our guards, are the only resource still available that can deter General Tarquak. Let us remind you that Sengenwha’s liberation is the responsibility of Neuyokkasin, as our cousin Dagmar is now the lawful Queen of Sengenwha.”

*

King Saxthor addressed his Royal Household Guards, with a legion brought up from the southern border and additional volunteers to announce his plan to leave Konnotan and march against the enemy at Botahar. The king withheld the specifics of their destination so that spies wouldn’t be able to warn General Tarquak. Later, the king discussed the plan with Queen Dagmar, and the plan to fortify Botahar seemed the most sensible to her, as well. Next morning, when the Neuyokkasinian force formed up to march north, the queen joined Saxthor at the head of the relief column.

“You must not accompany us, Dagmar,” Saxthor said emphatically. “This expedition is entirely too dangerous, and you’re needed here to assist the government in my absence.”

“I must insist on coming, too, Saxthor. Sengenwha is my country, and my brother died defending it. I’m now the rightful queen. I cannot sit here in Konnotan while you risk your life defending my country.”

They argued for a few minutes until Memlatec joined them.

“Your majesties shouldn’t dispute things and appear divided in front of the army.”

“Quite right,” Saxthor said. “If this stubborn woman insists on coming along, we appoint you, Memlatec, to assist the chatra in the kingdom’s administration in our absence. You’re given the final decision if there’s a disagreement between the chatra and you. Belnik, so inform the chatra,” the king said. Saxthor looked at Dagmar astride her great roan mare. “I’m most annoyed with you but delight in your company.” He put his hand on hers.

“But, Your Majesty,” protested Belnik, “I must accompany you on this expedition. Your majesties will be busy with the plans and battles, and you will need me to manage the daily camp activities.”

“Is everyone coming along? Is there to be no one left in the city to defend it?” the king grumbled. “Go at once and inform the chatra of our decision to give Memlatec final authority, then rejoin us on the road. He’ll fume of course. Tell him it’s only in a dispute situation; we don’t need additional internal strife.”

Belnik turned his horse and raced back to the palace and the chatra.

Saxthor turned to Dagmar. “Belnik doesn’t want to fall far behind the army. This will be his first military expedition, and he doesn’t want to miss any of it.” 

Dagmar laughed a slight laugh. “Lead on, Your Majesty!”

King Saxthor rode ahead of the column, and Queen Dagmar rode up beside him, ignoring his annoyed look. He knew she knew it was for appearances. Having checked that everything was ready, the king signaled the move forward, and the column started on the expedition. Traffic generally moved north on the Southern Nhy River, but there were too many soldiers and supplies to move by available boats, so the army moved north along the official state road that was little more than the country farm roads as it twisted and turned. Saxthor looked back and saw Memlatec watched the small army depart with trepidation.

From the city gate, a ragged beggar watched the column depart as well.

*             

A week later, the army worked its way through a swampy forest with great difficulty and emerged onto a substantial farm, where the fields were still not planted. It was an excellent place to allow the soldiers a rest, giving them time to encamp on fallow fields where they would do no damage to crops. Saxthor sent Belnik ahead to the farmer’s house to solicit the owner’s permission, though with the army having priority, permission wasn’t necessary.

As Belnik approached the homestead, the neglect of it became more and more obvious. By the time the king’s representative reached the house, he was sure the place was abandoned. Someone has maintained this place to some degree, Belnik hoped.

“Hello,” Belnik called out. “Anyone at home?”

The king’s valet dismounted, went to the door, and knocked. As he waited for a reply, he looked over the house. The shrubs around the house have been pruned in recent months, and leaves were swept off the porch. He looked back at the door and knocked again. Still no one came to answer. Anxious to get the permission, he tested the door and found it open. “Hello, is anyone here?”

Still no one answered. He looked in the window. There’s furniture but little sign of recent habitation, he thought. It’s as if everyone left in a hurry yesterday, perhaps on hearing the army’s approach. It seems strange the king’s subjects would abandon their farm just because the army might pass through here. For whatever reason, no one is in the house now. Belnik turned to leave and found a tall gaunt man standing in the doorway.