He shrugged. “They call me Sir Felix, but I suppose my name won’t mean much, for I can’t imagine I’ll be alive much longer.”
“Well, that’s up to you,” I said.
He nodded, then looked back at the officers that had accompanied him. They looked just as resigned to their fate as Felix.
Then, he turned back to me. “Is it true, what they did to Sir Pernicus?” he asked.
I nodded. “Sadly it is,” I said. I shook my head. “Our healers tried to mend his wounds, but he died shortly after the fighting ended in Homehold. He didn’t have a pleasant death. He suffered a lot.”
Sir Felix sighed. He looked to Erhoff, who’d ridden up to my side. “Aye, I know you,” Sir Felix said. “Erhoff, if I’m not mistaken.”
Erhoff nodded. “It is,” he said. “I’ve ridden beside the rebellion in battle. They fight honorably, Sir Felix.”
Felix sighed again. “Rebellion, loyalist, these terms mean precious little to me right now,” he said. He pulled a parchment from his armor and handed it to me. “The Lady Therena sent that by raven the day before last. Our orders are to slay every Silverton soldier in our jail cells, starting with Duke Gretchen Elfblood. After that, we are to slaughter every man and boy of fighting age.”
I looked over the parchment, reading Therena’s words. What a fucking monster. I crumpled up the parchment in my fist. “Have you done this yet?” I asked.
Felix shook his head. “No,” he said. “And now, even if we somehow drive off your forces, my men will be slaughtered by the Emperor because I didn’t follow those orders,” he said. “It pained me to follow my conscience, but I joined the Legion because I believe in it. Or used to. Either way, I couldn’t lead the slaughter of helpless folk, rebel or not.”
“You’re an honorable man, Sir Felix,” I said.
He waved me off dismissively. “You may want to reconsider that,” Felix said. He looked down into the dirt, with a thousand-yard stare in his eyes. “While following orders, I’ve done many things I’ve come to regret. Things I won’t speak of.” He turned back to me, with that hardened-yet-grim confidence in his eyes. “Gamelord, will you take my head, rather than the lives of my men? Will you spare them?”
“Sir, I’ll spare them, but not in exchange for your head,” I said. “Join us today. You’ll face no reprisal for your past crimes, as long as you pledge to stand with us against the Empire.”
Felix considered this a moment. “I’m no rebel, Gamelord.”
“Yet just a moment ago you said that those terms don’t mean shit,” I said. “I don’t care if you call yourself a rebel. I’m just giving you a chance to do what’s right.”
Sir Felix paused, sat atop his horse silently for a moment, then looked back to his officers. They appeared to be as unsure as he was. However, all these men shared the same air of hopelessness. They knew that if they didn’t join us, they’d die by our hand or the Emperor’s.
Felix turned back to me, jumped off his horse, and drew his sword. My hand shot to the hilt of my amber longsword, but I didn’t unsheathe it.
Everyone grew tense and rigid. Behind me on Buddy, I felt Pandora draw one of her daggers. To my left, I heard Gorrok letting out a low, almost primal growl.
Felix walked toward me, but as he did, he unclasped the straps on one of his gauntlets. He stopped in front of me, lay the blade of his silver longsword across his palm, and cut open his skin. He nodded, sheathed his sword, then wiped a bloody handprint across his chest.
Behind him, his officers did the same.
Bella looked up at me silently. She pulled up a vision from Silverton, where her eagles were still circling. All around the city, without so much as a word, the rest of the legionnaires were slashing their palms open and painting their breastplates with blood.
“We’re glad to have you and your men, Sir Felix,” I said.
Sir Felix’s face slipped into a soft, yet relieved smile. He clenched his fist and watched as his blood dripped into the thirsty soil underfoot.
“Aye, and we’re happy to stand among you and yours, Champion,” Felix said.
*****
It didn’t end there. In fact, it was just the beginning.
Though the Imperial Legion troopers in Silverton had joined us peacefully, that wasn’t the case across the Empire.
Bella showed us as she sent her eagles throughout the Empire. With every passing hour, skirmish after skirmish was breaking out between legionnaire divisions. Imperial troops were slashing their palms open and painting their chests in rapidly growing numbers.
The largest cities in the Empire were quickly breaking out in pitched battles between rebels and loyalists. Pearlton, the wealthiest city in the Empire aside from the Imperial City itself, was an inferno of rebel fervor. Though the nobles and bankers were allied with the Empire, the smallfolk and the Red-Hand Legionnaires were rising up to claim the city for themselves, with the loyalists fleeing farther north to more Imperial-friendly provinces.
The bustling city of Seaport showed that the Imperial Navy wasn’t immune to the schism. Right now, with Bella’s eagles circling overhead, the Red-Hands were commandeering warships and tossing their loyalist officers overboard. Dueling ships were rippling with cannon-fire as they launched iron cannonballs back and forth, blowing ships’ hulls to bits.
It seemed that every rebel uprising was a fresh ember that would quickly cause another fire, with a similar uprising breaking out soon after.
However, the rebels weren’t winning everywhere.
Farther to the north, in the city of Weston, the loyalists had overcome the Red-Hand rebels. The rebels they hadn’t driven off into the countryside, they imprisoned then brutally executed. There were no quick deaths, either, no mere beheadings or hangings.
The loyalist officers would toss rebels into fearsome iron maidens and slowly shut the doors. They’d string up rebel troops by their wrists and ankles and have warhorses pull their limbs off. Loyalist war mages would take offending rebel knights, lash them to unyielding posts with chains, then cook them alive in their armor.
As brutal as this was, I couldn’t’ believe the Emperor was ordering his troops to commit these atrocities. Yeah, he was an evil bastard, but it made no sense from a practical standpoint. Though these violent suppressions of rebel sympathy would squash uprisings in loyalist cities, the brutality of it would only drive neutral parties to the United Rebel Front.
Unlike before, though, the Emperor didn’t seem particularly interested in keeping his grip on every city. Instead of ordering his troops to hold out until the last man, he was yanking legionnaires away from cities that were close to falling under rebel control.
“Look at them all,” Bella whispered nervously as one of her eagles soared through the clouds, thousands of feet in the air.
Down below, the Imperial loyalists looked like a wave of armored ants driving north. They marched on foot or on horseback across the Empire, with all their forces being marshaled to reinforce the defenses of the Imperial-controlled northern provinces.
The sheer number of Imperial troops made me taste doom in the back of my throat. Even with our own growing numbers, the Empire’s army still outnumbered us. There were so many that I lost count, but Bella estimated that, with the troops moving north alone, that Imperial wave of humanity came close to a quarter-million soldiers.
“Christ,” I said.
It almost looked like the Emperor was giving up, bringing his troops home to reinforce the Imperial City to deter us from our final attack, but I knew that wasn’t the case. Even as the United Rebel Front took control of the middle-Empire and the southern cities, marshaling our new, disparate troops would take time. Even our healthiest and best-armed Red-Hand Legionnaire forces weren’t ready to give chase to the retreating Imperial loyalists.
Why, then, wasn’t the Emperor taking this time to go on the attack? Or, at least, station his troops along the new, rough border between Imperial territory and rebel territory? That’s what I wo
uld have done. In fact, I’d be ordering attacks on the weaker rebel cities that had yet to begin recovering from the battles that had raged inside their walls.
In the Silverton dining hall, I gathered all my lieutenants to discuss this. Over mugs of ale and glasses of wine, I sat next to Duke Gretchen Elfblood, who sat in her proper spot at the head of the table. The Mananymphs were there, sitting with me, along with Gorrok, Hingar, Sir Lucien, and Erhoff.
“This mass retreat of Imperial forces makes no sense at all,” I said to them.
“Aye, I’ve got to agree,” Duke Elfblood said as she drained a mug of ale then quickly snatched another.
Layla was sipping a glass of wine. She’d been quiet, as the sight of the wood elves living among the humans of Silverton had been a shock to her. “I don’t know the ways of cityfolk very well,” Layla said, “but the Earthman is right. The Empire has the manpower to bolster their defenses while still harassing our growing forces.”
As the discussion went on, I noticed that Sephara was sitting cross-legged in her chair, with her eyes closed. Her eyelids were flickering, which led me to believe she was speaking with Ciara telepathically.
When she opened her eyes, she had an uncharacteristically dark look in her eyes. I put my hand on her shoulder. “Hey, are you alright?” I asked quietly.
She smiled, but it was a strained smile. “Yes, Earthman,” she answered. “Excuse me for just a moment.”
Sephara quietly left the room.
Erhoff had been contemplatively staring into his mug of ale. He frowned, cleared his throat, and stood up to address the room. “The elf Therena had words with the Earthman,” Erhoff said. “Before we invaded Homehold.”
I nodded. “Yeah, she did,” I said.
“Aye, if I remember correctly, Gamelord, the golden wench had commented that the Emperor has far darker forces under his command than mere legionnaires,” Erhoff said.
Layla agreed. “The war mage speaks the truth,” she said. “On our way to Woodhaven, we encountered werewolves.”
“Yes,” Pandora echoed. “And they fell upon us at Corvus Gavrus’ cottage in the Darkwood Forest. They were clearly under the Emperor’s sway.”
Erhoff swallowed the rest of his ale in one long gulp. “When I was a lad, drafted into the legion, they sent me off to the war mage college just north of the Imperial City,” the old mage said. “In my years there, along with the other apprentice mages, I heard whispers of certain students with certain talents being plucked from our classes.”
“For what purpose?” I asked.
“For the longest time, we didn’t know,” Erhoff said. “But then the rumors started. Rumors that certain mages were taken to study dark arts under the Emperor himself.”
“And what sort of dark arts do you speak of, war mage?” Esmerelda said.
“Necromancy,” Erhoff said with disgust. “Conjuration of dark beasts. Using mysticism to open doorways to hidden realms teeming with wicked beasts. Indeed, when was the last time anyone in the Empire encountered a werewolf? Now and again, yes, you’ll hear of a sighting of one, maybe two. But a small legion of them?” Erhoff shook his head. “No, the Emperor had either conjured them or had his necro-mages raise dead ones, or else found an outer realm where those beasts are known to reside.”
“Erhoff,” I said, with an ominous feeling growing in my gut, because I suspected what he was getting at. “What does this have to do with the Emperor bringing his forces north?”
“I think that should be obvious, Earthman,” Erhoff said. “But I’ll state it plainly. I think the Emperor is planning on unleashing these dark forces upon the middlelands and the south.”
Duke Elfblood swirled her ale in her mug before swallowing it whole. “If he did this, he’d lose any bit of loyalist sympathy that might be left south of Pearlton.”
“Aye, he would,” Erhoff said.
“He just won’t care,” I finished for him, seeing now the perverse logic of the Emperor’s plan. “He’ll be able to bring his troops home to protect loyalist territory. More importantly, the legionnaires and the citizens will feel safe, like he’s looking out for them. Then all he has to do is send these creatures to overwhelm us. It’ll fit his narrative, that the Mananymphs bring dark magic with them. He could raze every rebel city to the ground with these monsters then blame it on the Mananymphs.”
Pandora nodded. “The Earthman speaks the truth,” she said. “The Emperor’s citizens, isolated in the north, will scarcely even know of his plan. I’d go as far to say that he’ll restrict any travel south of Imperial-held territory. This will keep rebel sentiment from spreading.”
“And if he’s conjuring monsters or recruiting them from other realms, he’ll have an inexhaustible supply of troops,” I said.
Not a single word of dissent came up from anyone. If we were right, things were going to get really bad, really fast.
But I couldn’t let my allies dwell on our chances.
I stood up again. “Alright then, we’ll deal with it,” I said. “Duke Elfblood, how quickly can you start sending silver weapons to cities that lack them?”
“I’ll start at once,” she answered.
“Focus on the cities closest to the line between loyalist and rebel-held territory,” I said. “Because I’m sure his attack will start there. We can’t leave those cities on their own.”
“But we won’t be able to defend that line forever,” Sir Lucien said. “Eventually, our defenses will be overwhelmed by the Emperor’s dark army.”
I nodded. “You’re absolutely right,” I said. “So now, I need to figure out how to kill the Emperor before things come to that.”
With that, our meeting was over. Duke Elfblood linked up with her chief miners and logisticians to get materials prepared to send out silver weapons across rebel territory. Before I could even ask her, Bella jumped on point to send her eagles across our territory to let the various leaders know what was likely coming next.
Pandora went along with Duke Elfblood. Her ever-improving teleportation abilities would help expedite the process of shipping out the silver goods. Esmerelda met up with the mages around Silverton – both homegrown and Red-Hand – to teach them various destruction spells.
Layla, who’d been downright adorable in the way she was slowly coming around to wood elf life in Silverton, began to ingratiate her Woodhaven natives with the wood elven expatriates, to properly mold them into a cohesive fighting force.
“Earthman,” Sir Lucien said. “If I may have a word.”
“Sure,” I told the old knight.
“For now, I should return to Homehold,” Sir Lucien said. “With Duke Gladios’ death, the city lacks any semblance of leadership.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I’d forgotten all about that. The old duke didn’t have any heirs, did he?”
Sir Lucien shook his head. “None,” he said. “He never married and, sadly, Duke Gladios was the last of his family line. He has no surviving next-of-kin, at least not in any corner of the realm that I’m aware of.”
“Go then,” I said. “Homehold’s been through the wringer. Those people are going to need you in the coming days, Sir Lucien.”
“Aye, I suppose,” he said. “But the truth of it is, I find this far more intimidating than the battlefield.”
We shook hands and he left. I was alone in the dining hall now…and I was curious about what was going on with Sephara.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I found Sephara in the bed chamber that Duke Elfblood had given us. She was sitting by the window, in her kimono, sipping on some red wine as she watched the sunlight break through leftover cloud cover from earlier in the morning.
She smiled a quiet sort of smile when I shut the door behind me, then sipped her wine and turned back to the window.
“This city is so beautiful when the sunlight hits the silver just so,” she said with a strangely mournful tone. “Come, Earthman. Sit with me.”
I did as she said and even poured a g
lass of wine from the pitcher she had nearby. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” I asked.
She sighed. “Something is wrong, yes,” she echoed. She shifted her eyes to mine. “You could tell that I’d been convening with Ciara.”
I nodded. “What did she want?
“You, Earthman,” Sephara said. “She needs to speak with you about matters that are quite dire.”
“Then why did she contact you?” I asked. “Why not contact me directly?”
Sephara sipped her wine and relished the taste. “Because you won’t be speaking to her the way that you’ve done so previously,” she said. “You see, Ciara has discovered a way to free herself from the Emperor’s prison.”
My jaw nearly dropped. “You mean, Ciara’s free?” I asked. “Where is she?”
“That’s…difficult to say, specifically,” Sephara said. She wiped a tiny drop of wine from her lips then licked it off her fingertip. “Earthman, has Ciara ever explained precisely what sort of magic she wields?”
I shook my head. “She might have. Truth be told, it’s difficult for me to remember. Everything’s been such a blur since I’ve arrived here.”
“When asked, Ciara will explain that her powers are vaguely connected to mysticism, or perhaps the restoration school, but the truth is far more complicated than that,” Sephara said.
“Corvus Gavrus once told me that all schools of magic are, on some level, interconnected,” I said.
Sephara shook her head in agreement. “The old illusionist was right about that,” Sephara said. “And you could use that definition to explain the nature of my eldest sister’s magic.”
“She combines them all, or something like that?” I asked.
“Not exactly,” Sephara said. “Ciara’s magic is, instead, the closest embodiment of Mother Gaia’s essence. That was our mother’s gift to her eldest daughter, which was why the Emperor made sure to keep her for himself. This was how he was able to break open the realm to the banished seraphs, among other things.”
“Sephara, what are you trying to say to me?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”
Monstergirl Quest Book Three Page 17
