The Godlost Land (58 page)

Chapter Fifty One

The throne room was nearly empty for once. Terellion had decided that he liked it that way. Ever since the bitter discovery of Xin's betrayal he had been feeling that there were too many people around. He wanted some peace. After the anger had subsided a little he wanted a lot of peace. And there wasn't a lot more he could do.

After all, he was already punishing the demon king the only way he could – by starving him. He could do no more. And now he had to face the very real chance that he was not just going to die, but that it was going to be a terrible death. He would either be murdered by the High Priestess when she arrived, or one of the demon king's thralls would get him. He suspected there were still some about who had escaped his soldiers. Not in the city itself though.

Of course there was still another possibility. That he would escape both those dooms and then suffer a long, lingering decline into decrepitude and senility. He wasn't sure which he feared more. But he knew that wizards were long lived. A hundred and twenty years wasn't uncommon. Which meant he could spend another forty years slowly rotting away. Turning little by little into a walking corpse. He did not want to do that.

And then there was what came after death. When he'd set out upon this journey he'd known that to die would be to end up in Tartarus. The gods would be angry, and you did not make them angry without knowing there would be a price. But now he had another problem. Not only were the gods angry with him, but so too was Xin, the self styled prince of Tartarus. So his only hope when he had committed himself to this path had been to succeed. That hope was now gone and if he died he was doomed to eternal torment. Considering what the gods had done to their own for defying them, what they would do to him when he died was not something he wanted to dwell on.

His future looked bleak and his only hope remained in defeating the High Priestess' and Xin's armies and then somehow finding a vial of living essence. The longer he lived, the further off he could put that terrible day, the better. So he had redoubled his efforts to find some. He had people out everywhere. He had rewards offered across the entire known world. And maybe there was hope. For a time while he had thought immortality had been close he had given up on trying to obtain any living essence. But now, since it was everything, he was putting absolutely everything he had into the hunt. And there were whispers coming back to him. Rumours rather than facts, but still something. Hints that didn't come from the lying mouths of demons. But which were still only hints.

Still, when the soldier came hurrying in with his message he cheered up a little. It was bad news – he knew that. It was always bad news. But at least it was something to do instead of just sitting there, waiting to die. Less than half his wizards and soldiers had come back from the other kingdoms, and those that had, had reported being attacked by chimera. It seemed that Xin was angry, which could only mean that he was hungry. That was the only good thing to have come out of this entire nightmare. Let the demon king starve!

It would have been nice to hear him suffering. Maybe even to hear Xin cursing his name. To open the gate a little and listen to him scream out his futile rage. But Terellion couldn't do that. He couldn't risk it. At the moment Xin was only able to speak with a few of his thralls. Those that had set up altars and cast the appropriate spells – none of whom were currently in Lion's Crest as far as he knew. Not when his soldiers were searching the city constantly, hunting them out. So that mainly meant thralls in the other towns and lands. If he opened up the gate the chances were that Xin would be able to speak with his five hundred or so thralls in the city. And if he did that then Xin might be able to wrest back control of them. That could not happen. The last thing he needed was a pitched battle in the city. Especially when all the remaining six Circle wizards were here. If any of them were killed it could be a disaster.

In fact it could be worse. It could be the end. He was already beginning to suspect that the damage done to the binding by the first six deaths had been more than it could easily absorb. It did not feel as solid to him as it once had. Maybe that was just his imagination, but he knew it might be that the binding would not endure until the last of them died. Even if that last one was him as he planned. The next death might be the one to destroy them all. Or if not that one then the one after that. And most of the remaining Circle wizards were old. He didn't like to think about that.

“What is it soldier?” Terellion snapped it at the man before he could even open his mouth. He was in no mood for pleasantries or formality. He just wanted the news so he could make sense of it, decide what to do, and then move on.

“The traitorous priests have blocked the last pass between Vardania and Lion's Crest. Our soldiers are trapped on the other side.”

Terellion wished it could have come as a shock. But it didn't. He'd been expecting them to do it soon. Xin was very angry and his thralls were determined to make his feelings known on the matter. They'd proven it time and again. They had attacked his people when it was madness for them both. The battles had been fierce and the dead numbered in the tens of thousands across the five kingdoms. That included thousands of wizards.
His wizards
! Now the demon king was going to try and completely exterminate one whole realm of his people? Trap them in Vardania while the High Priestess hunted them down? Even if it meant that the demon king lost everything as well?

It was the very definition of insanity, but Terellion had unfortunately expected as much. Having spoken with Varrious, and having had his torturers speak with him at length, he had realised that the demon king was in fact mad. He would destroy his own people just to hurt him. But Terellion had expected this particular lunacy. There was of course only one possible response.

“Send messages to all of our soldiers trapped on the other side. No more running! Tell them to join together into armies and attack the largest towns and cities. Destroy the chimera and any remaining thralls! Burn whatever altars they might have created. No survivors!”

It was the only thing he could do now. Elsewhere he'd had his people returning home, fighting just to defend themselves as they retreated. But in Vardania that was no longer possible. The soldiers and more importantly his wizards would not be returning to him. They could not head north through the pass. They couldn't go east into the Rainbow Mountains and then try to make their way north through enemy lands. They couldn't even head west into Harvas Greens – the fauns had closed their borders. Which meant their only way back was to head south and then west, to go right around those realms, and hope that by the time they made it back there was still a realm remaining. That could be six months of marching if they even made it. It could be a year. The High Priestess would be on Lion's Crest long before that.

“And send to my forces guarding this side of those passes to Vardania; make sure that nothing and no one comes through. No prisoners. No interrogations. No mercy.”

The only thing he could do was kill as many of the demon king's thralls as he could.

“Sir?”

The soldier questioned his order, and for once Terellion didn't even care. He was simply so angry with the way things had turned out that a soldier questioning his orders simply didn't matter to him. Especially when he knew why the soldier was confused. It might have been smarter to tell his people to hide and let the High Priestess kill the traitors. That way the traitors would still be killed and the High Priestess' army would be weakened and slowed. But Xin's forces posed the greater and more immediate threat to him. And he was angry. If he was going to lose a large part of his army then Xin was going to pay for that loss in kind.

Besides, he could withstand the High Priestess' forces here in the Kingdom of the Lion for a good long while. Maybe for many years. Long enough to find a way to win the war, settle for some sort of peace, or escape. The more forces he could bring back here, the longer he could hold out against her. Those from Vardania though, would be no use to him.

But Terellion suspected this was a ploy by Xin to weaken him. Terellion's defensive forces were camped out on his side of the three passes while Xin's forces now held the passes themselves. And his forces in Vardania were trapped on the other side.

No doubt the demon king was expecting that he'd use his forces in the Kingdom of the Lion to attack the passes from the north, and let his forces in the south then join with them and return to Lion's Crest together. Most men would do that – if they had any regard for their men. But Terellion didn't, and while the extra men could be useful, the price for bringing them home could be much too high.
His forces in the Kingdom of the Lion could be badly weakened if they tried to take the passes. He could well lose more soldiers doing that than he would gain by bringing the soldiers from Vardania through.

And there was another risk. Xin was surely hoping that in the battle for the passes with the High Priestess' army coming behind them all, that there would be so much confusion that he could get a few more of his thralls through. But there was absolutely no way Terellion was going to let a few of the demon king's thralls slip around the side as the battles raged toward Lion's Crest. He'd already spent months simply exterminating every one of Xin's thralls that he didn't control throughout the realm. Those that survived in the Kingdom of the Lion were well hidden and very quiet. They didn't pose him much of a threat – as long as they couldn't get into Lion's Crest. And they were still being hunted down. But if they received some reinforcements – especially any who could get into the city – then they would become a very serious threat to him.

All the thralls knew how to set up the altars to Xin after all. That was how they'd first become his thralls. And the altars were how Xin commanded them. Every thrall and every altar was a chance for Xin to use them to free the others from his hold. Xin would cheerfully sacrifice an army to do that. He already had. After all, he'd been trying to do it for months now – and Terellion's patrols had been killing his thralls as quickly as they came across them. The miserable worms were determined as they marched across the kingdom rushing for Lion's Crest. But luckily enough, most were not that skilled in remaining hidden. But whoever the demon king tried to send through from his side was unlikely to be so unskilled in such things.

It was the thralls who were his most immediate threat. How could they not be? The High Priestess would kill him if she could. But it would take her some time to bring her army to his realm and then to his city where she would have to overcome his forces. Especially when she would want to coordinate her attacks with those of the dryads, and their progress through Northland and the Regency was slowed. He had six months at least. Six months to think of something.

Xin unfortunately didn't need an army. And he didn't need six months. He probably didn't even need six days if he could get his thralls into the city. He already had an army waiting for him in Lion's Crest. If Xin could get a few of his thralls into the city to set up an altar, he could start reclaiming his thralls. If that happened Lion's Crest would be overrun from the inside. The High Priestess wouldn't even need to attack them.

And Terellion wanted the demon king to suffer for what he had done. He didn't explain that to the soldier though. The man was a nobody. So he used his gift and commanded the man to obey him as he repeated his commands.

“Tell them to take no prisoners. No mercy shall be shown; no quarter given. Kill every single one of those traitors. Butcher them. Burn the temples. Hunt down those who flee. Make sure none of them survive. And make sure that the demon following bastards know who it is that's killing them.”

That mattered. Because just maybe that message would get back to Xin while he sat in his miserable black castle in Tartarus, slowly starving and cursing him with everything he had. Maybe that message would cause him pain. It was something to hope for.

It was what Terellion had left now. Anger and vengeance. And if it was all he had, he would use it. By all the pox ridden gods he would use it!

Chapter Fifty Two

Hard Flats was free! Nyma celebrated that victory even as she tried to ignore the pain of her injured arm. It wasn't that she knew the town, or even particularly cared about it. In fact she'd never even visited it before and she knew no one who lived in it. But it was the first of the towns in the Regency that they'd freed. It was the first time in two thousand and more years of recorded history that her people had ever invaded another land. Until then she hadn't even been certain they could. But they had, and they'd won, and that mattered.

Now four thousand more souls no longer suffered under the reign of the false temple. They no longer had to fear being sacrificed to the demon king. And the beasts and their false priest masters were dead.

None had been spared. That wasn't a military decision that had been made. They would have taken prisoners if they could have, even though they knew it would be pointless. The thralls would have told them nothing. It was simply the fact that they had only been facing demon thralls and chimera. The chimera would always fight to the end, and since they were beasts they would then kill any of the wounded that still lived. And here the thralls had chosen to do the same. Though the truth was that they had chosen nothing. They like the beasts had obviously been commanded to fight to the end.

The thralls were loyal to their masters, if only out of fear of what their masters would do to them if they disobeyed. That fear ruled their lives. It wasn't surprising really when their masters were demons after all. They were less than servants. They were property
.
And they would always obey their masters no matter what. That was why in most civilised lands thralls were always killed.

Hard Flats was only just inside the border of the Regency, barely a couple of leagues in fact, and so as advances went it wasn't a large one. But still, thought Nyma, it was a start. After they had cleared out the last of the invaders in their own realm, something that had taken a little over a month, the dryads had begun their first ever invasion. And while the journey travelled might be small in terms of actual distance, the journey their people had travelled was far greater. In thousands of years the dryads had never entered another land with the thought of conquest. They had never even had an army before. Guards and soldiers, even custodians, but never an army.

Still, tomorrow another town would be freed, and the day after that a third. The war masters had come up with a plan; a simple one. They would use the advantages of mobility and misdirection. The army had a vanguard split into three arms, each comprised of fifteen hundred soldiers. That was the van. And each arm was sufficient to free a small town and then hold it. And while they held the town, another town would be taken, leaving the enemy with no clear target to attack. Meanwhile the main part of the army was behind them, slowly making its way west towards the nearest cities. It was hoped that the false temple would never even see the main army until they were under siege.

Until then the three smaller advance parties would draw their attention, meaning that while they came from three different directions, the false temple wouldn't even know where to send their forces if they chose to counter attack. And worse for the enemy, if necessary they could flee. They were much faster than the enemy. That was the benefit of coming from a land where horses were plentiful. Their infantry weren't marching but were in fact being carted to the towns, which had the added advantage that they arrived ready for the fight.

Their tactics were simple too. A quarter of their forces in each advanced group was comprised of custodians, lightly armoured and fast moving, there to harry the enemy's flanks and keep them disorganised. They had the honour of calling the battle and hopefully drawing the enemy out of their temples and out of position. Another quarter was made up of archers. Skilled bowmen and women who would take the enemy down quickly, from behind the infantry. Their task was to thin the enemy's numbers, and to make it too costly for them to stand their ground. They would force them to attack or run – and chimera didn't run. The balance of their forces were infantry and their task was to blunt the enemy's attack. They had adjusted their equipment and tactics to deal with the beasts. Now every soldier had a tower shield with spikes on the bottom that they could ram into the ground. In a matter of heartbeats they could line up and form a wall of steel.

The battle plan was simple but effective when the thralls had no understanding of warfare and the chimera no understanding of anything apart from savagery. And the lack of wizards and trained soldiers among the enemy played into their hands.

The infantry were heavily armed. They would advance first to the edge of the town and set up a defensive position behind a wall of shields. Even the furious strength of the beasts could not break down the tower shields once they were anchored into the ground. And any that tried would find themselves having to breach a defensive line of spears and pikes.

The archers and wizards would set up behind the shield walls ready to bring down as many of the beasts as they could, long before the enemy reached their lines. And when they were ready the custodians would begin the battle by riding through the town. They would draw the enemy out from their temples – the chimera would always give chase to what they thought were prey – and bring them to their forces. After that, while the enemy was throwing themselves against their steel walls, the custodians would sew confusion among the flanks.

The tactic had worked here just as it had worked in Inel Ison. But then without the wizards and any trained soldiers the enemy was vulnerable. It also seemed they didn't learn from their mistakes. Not quickly enough anyway. And the dryads were making certain that there would be no survivors left to pass on any information to those in other towns.

As with the battle for other towns the false temple in Hard Flats hadn't been prepared for the tactic and so the battle had gone well. Nyma was happy with that. But she was unhappy with herself. Or rather, with her performance.

She and the rest of her lodge had ridden through the town from the north side, and completely torn the heart out of the enemy's flank. But then fifty custodians were a powerful force. At least twice as many beasts had fallen to them, and they had lost only one of their number for that victory. A dozen were wounded and would need some attention. But they would all ride again. The other custodians had had similar success on the south side and two full lodges had ridden straight through the heart of the town, not doing any great damage but drawing the beasts straight on to the spears of the army.

But she had been slow. In the attack she had been wounded, something that simply shouldn't have happened. A leonid claw had caught her riding arm and managed to cut right through her wardwood armour. The fault was hers; she hadn't been quick enough to dodge, and that upset her. Because she was quick enough normally.

The injury itself was minor, being no more than a run of scratches, but they were bleeding profusely and she knew that she should see the healers. But she didn't want to see them. Because then they would find out that she was with child and she would no longer be able to take part in the war. To ride with her watch. No woman with child was allowed to ride. It was the rule.

And once the news was out the rest would follow. She would have to tell her family. That would be tough. Not because they would be upset. They wouldn't be. They would be overjoyed. Children were a blessing among her people. And the child of a magus would be a cause for celebration. There would be singing and dancing. Her mother would cook spiced fish pie and endless bowls of runner beans.

It was the other part that would distress them. Where was the father? When was he coming to be with her? What were the prospects? And all she could tell them was what she'd already told them. That they had agreed to property rights. That they intended to build a home together. One day.

They already knew about Harl of course. But not much. She had spared her mother many of the details about him, because he was far from the perfect son in law her parents would want. He was too angry and bitter for that. Too suspicious and distrusting. Too hurt by the tragedy of his life. That would trouble them. They would worry for her and she didn't want that. But she couldn't hide the truth from them forever.

It was too soon. That was the thing that upset her. She had thought she and Harl would have had more time before this happened. Time to discuss the future. Time to decide if they should truly be together. Time for Harl to once more become the man he had always been meant to be. And he was slowly becoming that man again. But when the time for her monthly cycle had passed as she'd ridden to Inel Ison and she'd realised that nothing had happened, she had suspected the truth. When she'd started feeling a little uneasy on the stomach each morning, she had guessed it again. And now, another month on, and another month without her normal cycle happening she was certain. Especially when she thought she could just begin to feel a slight thickening around her waist. In another month she suspected, it would be a bulge. And then she wouldn't be able to hide it from anybody.

Then of course there was Harl. He didn't yet know. And she didn't know how to tell him. Though she knew she had to. But how? It didn't seem right somehow to give him the news in a letter. Especially not in a tiny scrap of tissue that would be carried by pigeon to the fort at Whitebrook and then ferried by soldiers to his house. Not when the letter would be read by others before him. But she could see no other way and he had the right to know. More than that he had the need.

He had agreed to exchange property rights with her. She knew he didn't understand what that meant. Maybe some of the intent, but not the meaning. But she understood it, and though it had been a spontaneous thing for her when she'd spoken the words – as these things often were – she had meant them.

She had named herself as his and he had named himself as hers. And though he might not have understood what he was naming himself as, she had understood it and accepted his claim. Now he belonged to her, and she had to honour the commitment he had made. That meant among other things, fidelity in all ways and all matters. And fidelity included not just the absence of falsehoods, but also the revelation of all truths. So she would tell him. She only wished she could be there to tell him in person.

Still, she thought, maybe this would be the news that would bring him all the way out of his darkness. A child was a big thing. And no matter how damaged he was, he was still a good man. He still had a heart. He hid it behind his bitterness and doubt. Behind the wall of cynicism and gloom that was his way. But it was there.

“You should have the healers tend to that.”

Sidero startled her as his words rang out from just beside her. He'd obviously spotted the blood on her arm. And if he had the chances were others had too. They would insist that she saw the healers.

“I know. I will as soon as they're finished with the others.” In the end her decision had been made – though not by her.