The Vitalis Chronicles: Steps of Krakador (16 page)

Many had set out to find the fortress of Krakador in the years that followed. Most never came close; the rest never returned. It was there that her brother was certain the Demon's will was bent. Some power held within it was being forged that would be the undoing of mankind, a weapon unlike anything they had even conceived possible. It was upon the steps of Krakador that the fate of mankind would be determined.

Rain figured it would be best if she rejoined her brother before they left the valley. He would want her with him. She didn't wish to cast aspersions on him by not appearing supportive in any way. To appear weak to his enemies or to seem unfit in front of his army would cause morale to drop at the very least, and welcome insurrection at the worst. While her father had kept his nobles in line with ease, she knew that the task had been accomplished at a cost for Rendin.

It didn't take long to rejoin him at the head of the column. He nodded to her as she approached, the relief visible to her in his face. They had been thinking the same thoughts; their lines of reason rarely diverged. She came close, leaning in to ask quietly how he was faring.

“
I'm well, sister.” He smiled. “I don't think I shall enjoy much of our excursion, but traveling through our own country is something I haven't done in a long time.”

As they exited the valley under the lidless eyes of the massive towers that guarded it, Rain felt a sense of relief wash over her. There were thousands of soldiers in the hills below waiting for them to arrive. Pennants and banners streamed from a small sea of tents as the smoke from thousands of cooking fires mingled in the air to form a glorious haze. There weren't nearly as many as had been in existence in her father's day, but the sons of his soldiers had reformed well enough.

“
We will take our night's rest on that hill there.” Rendin pointed for his bodyguard to see. “We march north in the morning.”

Rain was surprised to hear they would head directly north. “Rendin, shouldn't we see to the refugees and my men first?”

“
It's too far, Rain. Our supply line would never reach and would be far too vulnerable east of our territory.” He looked steadily in her eyes, the softness in them showing only briefly. “Shill and the rest are on their own, sister. They always were.”

Every instinct in Rain told her to run. Right then and there, she knew she needed to fly into the east, to save her men, to bring them home. She knew it to be folly, knew it was suicide and would only hurt her brother. She had known this was coming, she had known she had abandoned them, but she wanted it all the same. How could she let them die?

“
If the Relequim were truly after them, the best thing we can do now is strike at his heart.” Rendin could read the crazed look in her eyes, she knew. “He will be forced to pull back, Rain. He can't let us get to Krakador uncontested. He won't.”

She knew it to be true, but she couldn't believe it.
I must believe it,
she told herself.
My place is here... this is the best I can do for them.

She sighed as they began the descent into the foothills surrounding the Dragon's Teeth. She would take her rest tonight and do her best to calm her heart, for she knew that even though she was abandoning her men to their death, she too would be riding to death's door all too soon.

T
WELVE

A
NDERS
K
EATON SAT IN THE MOUNTAINS EAST OF
E
LANDIR, PORING OVER THE CITY'S BLUEPRINTS
. He had never actually taken the time to study the design of the great black wall, nor the infrastructure running underneath the city itself. It was incredibly well thought out, and he knew it had been executed just as well. The Magi had made most of it, though they taught the humans as they went. It was amazing that history had attempted to wrest credit away from them in only a generation, and even more incredible that people believed it. This was the work of genius.

“
Have you found a way in yet?” Saltman sat down silently on the bench next to him.

“
I'm not looking for a way in.” Keaton flipped the page he was reading over to see what the key on the back could tell him.

“
I thought we were looking to kill Merodach, sir.”

“
We're looking to depose Merodach. There's a difference. Getting into Elandir is beyond us at this stage, Lieutenant. We may be able to get in and kill Merodach, we may even be able to get out alive.” He put the blueprints down and looked Saltman in the eye. “But what will we be leaving behind? Chaos? A leaderless government? We're not trying to destroy Elandir, Saltman. We're trying to free her.”

“
Then what's with the blueprints?” Saltman picked up a page and twisted it in his hand as if the answer to his question was hidden somewhere among its fine lines.

“
The people in Elandir are already on edge, but they aren't dissatisfied enough with Merodach to want him out of office, let alone dead.” Keaton pointed to a blocky structure built into the side of one of Elandir's square towers. “But we can get them there.”

“
That's a power station, sir.”

“
We can't very well get in and announce Merodach's treachery, as much as I would love to do so. There's no proper medium, and even if we made our accusations, we would be shut down and shouted over instantly. What we need to do is show them his incompetence, aid him in a few foibles. God knows he's had enough on his own. Show them he's not quite as capable at keeping them safe and comfortable as they think he is.”

Saltman nodded as he looked at the drawings. “Like how poor of a job he's doing in keeping the lights on.”

“
Precisely.” Keaton grunted as he leaned back. “We just need to find someone to replace him with safely, someone we trust, and someone with some semblance of legitimacy. If we can do that, we can shut Merodach up for life or have him tried and executed. We just need to push the people past the breaking point with him.”

The leather-clad lieutenant smiled as he flipped through the blueprints on the table. “I'm sure we could find a few more things he's not so good at maintaining.”

“
That's my hope.”

“
But who do we find to take his place?”

Keaton smiled. “You know they set up a line of succession for Merodach when he was interned in the South Tower?”

“
Yeah,” Saltman nodded. “I thought Merodach did away with that when he took office.”

“
Not so publicly.” Keaton rolled up a blueprint and shook it in front of Saltman. “You know the guy that got us these blueprints?”

“
Some official inside.”

“
That official is the finance minister, third on that list to succeed Merodach, and he's the one we'll be putting up in the North Tower by the end of the month.”

Keaton broke the Hunters up into three small teams the following day, giving each a task revolving around a necessary utility in the city. To one he ordered they keep the lights out in three of the city's twelve sectors at all times. Another was to keep sewage treatment from functioning consistently. The last was to disrupt the delivery and distribution of major food supplies.

He knew tempers were already high in the city, and that after the attack on the city and subsequent war, the people were on the verge of rejecting Merodach's government. His simple hope was that all they needed was one final push, a nudge over the edge to sedition, and then he could come in and clean up shop. Supplant Merodach with one of his own officials and turn the lights back on. No one need ever know that it had been the Hunters who had turned them off in the first place.

Local farmers just outside the city recently held captive by Merodach in an attempt to capture the Shadow King would be easy to turn to for shelter and food. Two Hunters already had four farmhouses lined up to stay at in a rotation, and plenty more could be found in the meantime. If everything went well, no one in Elandir would even know they were there. If things got ugly, they could simply disappear and alter their plans.

Things won't get ugly though,
Keaton told himself as they set out for the city in the early morning light.
Merodach will be deposed, tried, and dead within a month.

Inside the walls, Keaton was certain they would find citizens sympathetic to their cause. There would be plenty already looking to overthrow Merodach. The real trick was going to be in orchestrating things with the finance minister, Quinn Phelts. He had already proven sympathetic, but Keaton hoped they could convince him to step into Merodach's role when all was said and done.

The Hunters had a few hundred miles to go, but they covered the ground quickly, starting out with trucks stashed by Saltman and finishing the final seventy miles at a quick march. He wanted them in position as soon as possible. Even if they needed to rest to make up for the time, he didn't want to miss any opportunities simply because they had been on the move. Runners from each team were designated, required to meet him every night to discuss targets and allocate missions for the following day.

Two of the Hunters who had family within Elandir were tasked with visiting the city regularly, slipping in during regular hours of commerce. Keaton wanted his fingers on the pulse of the populace. He wanted to know what they were thinking and when they would be ready to revolt. More importantly, he knew he would soon be able to coordinate attacks with civilians inside. Key members of the community would need to be contacted to legitimize the coup, and he needed to know if and when the bulk of the military would be returning to the city. The last he had heard they were cleaning up the mess they had made, attempting to secure Liscentia before Silverdale arrived to help them.

Keaton wondered if any of the other City States would rise up to Liscentia's aid before this was over. The thought only encouraged him to get rid of Merodach faster. A coup wasn't only necessary, it was of expedient urgency if Elandir were to survive her leader's madness.

“
There are to be no assassinations,” Keaton told his men at their first briefing before sending them out. “Kill no one; these are still our countrymen. Anyone with blood on his hands at the end of this mission will have to answer for it.”

“
What about Merodach?” The Hunter in the back who asked the question was fairly tall, dark-haired, and carried a long-range rifle with him everywhere he went. “If I get a shot I'm takin' it.”

“
Don't kill Merodach either. He needs to stand trial and die dangling from a rope. A bloodless coup will be difficult enough to accomplish as it is. We want to get the ball rolling on succession, put the Council back in control, not reform the government in its entirety. If we start killing the leaders we have now, what's to assure leaders in the future that the same fate doesn't await them?”

“
It'd keep 'em in line.” Another chuckled.

“
And it would make them more brutal and bloodthirsty than Merodach.” Keaton's tone silenced further opposition. “We're here to free Elandir, to build the future we desire, and that takes intentionality and forethought. Not mindless killing. We have to win the hearts and minds of the people, and while killing Merodach outright may win their hearts in the beginning, it will eat away at their confidence in us over time. We'll come to be seen as murderers in the night, a necessary evil. Necessary evils are rarely tolerated beyond their usefulness.”

Merodach would die, he assured them. But it had to happen the right way or it was better that they didn't even set out on this mission in the first place.

They dispersed, melting into the darkness like rain vanishing into thirsty soil. Keaton attached himself to the sewage treatment team, knowing that their task would be the most difficult. Getting into the city was only the start, but the plant itself was underground and practically sealed off. They would need to get creative if they were to succeed.

Keaton watched the tall, dark walls that night, thinking through everything he had seen. The scars from the false attack only weeks before still showed clearly as the lights that ringed the city turned on. They only served to sour his mood further, making him think of everything he had been put through. The faces of the men he had lost hovered near the front of his mind, salting his tongue and bringing a thirst for revenge.

His whole career had been a farce, his skill the tool of mad men whose goals served only themselves. He could barely stand to believe he had been so blind in the beginning. When the haze of light that burned over the Black City suddenly dimmed to one side, Keaton smiled. His men were already at work. This time, he would be the tool of no one. He would usher in the new peace and stop the infighting that would otherwise tear their civilization apart.

The next night his runners arrived as anticipated. He had spent the day planning the assault on the sewage treatment plant and decided to avoid the plant itself for now. Better to disrupt its outward operations first, then move in when the workers were distracted around the city. The power team had already taken out two stations located on the northern-facing walls. It had cut electricity to nearly a third of the city, and they said it would take days to repair the damage they had done.