Emperor Forged

by K D Robertson

  It had been a long time since one of my advisers had gone that far. That one was likely traipsing around the Empire in one of her expensive dresses right now, at the very top of the world without the emperor and the princes in her way anymore.

  “Oh, you’re both here. Thought I saw you sending off Terry, Mykah,” Yasno said as he and Aaron entered, interrupting my thoughts. They both had a stack of papers, and I nodded approvingly at the lack of clipboards in Yasno’s hands.

  “I did. Did you and Aaron stop for a drink before coming up here?” I said.

  “Needed one before we break open the can of worms that are these reports,” Yasno muttered. “Can we give a short version?”

  Ilsa nodded at me, so I gave the go-ahead. “Shoot.”

  Aaron opened. “We have enough food, weapons, and general supplies to keep us going until well after harvest. Food is the big one, but this year is already looking good, and the agriwizards haven’t been as averse to helping the oni as we expected. Losing too much territory to Lyria will hurt if she burns the crops, however.”

  “She will. If you’ve ever seen a tactic you thought of as ruthless in the Empire’s strategies, she had a hand in it,” I said. “Plan around it.”

  Yasno clicked his tongue. “Are you ever going to tell us about your history with her?”

  “When I can hang her head from my door, maybe.”

  “Right,” Yasno said slowly, looking grim. “So, here’s the bad part. She’s not doing anything.”

  Ilsa cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that good?”

  “Sure, if she was known as the Bulwark and renowned for hanging around in an impenetrable wall of fortresses that we have to get past,” Yasno said, giving me a sidelong look. “But she isn’t, and our plans aren’t to go through her.”

  “She doesn’t know that,” I interrupted as Ilsa’s expression became complicated. “This was hinted at, but there is another nearby set of foundries that can produce weapons capable of slaying dragons. The dwarven citadel of Norlocke, a little farther to the west and within Lyria’s territory. If she’s holing up, she might be expecting us to make a play for neutral territory and convince them to let us use their forges.”

  It was my first idea, in truth. I had forged my own equipment a couple of decades ago at the forges of Turrethdamm, the second-largest dwarven citadel known to the Empire. It lay far to the east by the coast. Norlocke was far closer and even larger. Lyria knew me well and might think my first port of call would be a dwarven city where I could make a sword capable of cutting off even her oversized spiky head.

  That seemed to settle things and restored Ilsa to normal. Chatter filled the room, most of it over minor things such as how to keep the oni from causing havoc as we took over more towns and villages. Aghram was mostly rural, and we were avoiding the cities that filled the inland areas of the province, so resistance was lighter than expected.

  “Yasno, I’d like you to head south and head up the oni down there. You and Terry should make a great pair as things get hotter,” I ordered suddenly, realizing that I lacked any particularly strong officers.

  “Not going to send Hish?” Yasno said, raising an eyebrow. For the briefest of moments, his dour expression flickered with something like amusement.

  “I’d prefer to send Hish,” Ilsa muttered, eying me oddly.

  Aaron snorted. “Yes, let’s send the murder machine that still won’t wear the uniform to keep the peace down south. Great idea.”

  Squabbling broke out between my officers, Yasno watching in bemusement.

  “Yasno, you’re going down. You have the temperament and the ability,” I said, emphasizing the word “temperament.” Aaron had hit the nail on the head, as annoyed as Ilsa was about keeping Hish around Tornfrost Watch for a moment longer.

  As we finished up this session, my mind turned to Yasno’s disquiet over Lyria. I wasn’t too concerned, for one simple reason. The new system of provinces gave the dragons no incentive to intervene to help the vampires. Each province was now racial—if the dragons claimed land in the vampires’ province, then they’d have to give it back. It was how they would prevent infighting. In this case, it would provide an economic disincentive that would prevent Lyria from helping her vampiric counterpart. The same had been true in the past with the princedoms, leading to the appointment of magister-generals who cared nothing for the internal boundaries of the Empire.

  The very system of province-bound marshals would be the doom of this new empire, and I would see to it. In the meantime, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to see what the oni had to say about Lyria’s movements.

  Chapter 12

  Flares burst high in the sky, in a brilliant pattern of copper, silver, and gold. I watched from the ridge, running my hands idly through Zwei’s feathers. The fort down below straddled the river, providing the only safe crossing point for a solid day or two’s march where it could be forded. A garrison of a few hundred soldiers was protected by twenty-meter-high walls, built this tall in an attempt to stop oni and demons from easily scaling them. A keep stood on the far side of the bridge.

  This fort was so unmemorable that I couldn’t even remember its name. Rivers cutting passage west were commonplace due to the natural mountain range that ran along the coastline. Over time, they had been fortified against all manner of threat. Demons, oni, dark elves, the Empire itself, a noble the current ruler didn’t like, or merely because it would make the local inhabitants feel more secure on their way to the market.

  It was theater, of course. The oni capturing the fort right now were proving that.

  The flares continued to burst in the sky, a desperate call for aid. Nearby, there were lookout towers that could see the flares. Farther in the distance, I could see silver and gold flares go off, making it clear that the message was being passed on. Other lookout towers would then repeat this until they saw the gold flares from the nearby reinforcing fortress.

  Smoke began to rise from the fort below, which meant that the oni had breached the walls already. Hundreds of figures rushed the outer walls. They huddled behind great wooden towers and there was a ram at their front.

  I heard something approaching from my right and looked over, hand on my sword hilt. It was Miyasa racing up on the back of her griffin. Zwei cawed softly and I returned to petting her.

  “This is a little overwrought, isn’t it?” I called out to Miyasa as she approached. A thousand oni or more, siege towers, and even a ram for a tiny border fort was ridiculous. This place was so remote that the Empire hadn’t even seen fit to put a proper magetalk device in it, instead relying on the ancient system of flares to reinforce it. Outside of emergency battlefield situations, the last time I had actually seen that flare trio was back in the days of the first demonic onslaughts.

  “It was felt that a larger, repeatable effort would both result in fewer casualties for the oni and give the impression that this was a larger campaign,” Miyasa said. She settled her griffin next to mine.

  “It is prefab, I guess. If they think you’ll be using the towers and rams for every river fort, then maybe Lyria will think we are pushing west to reach the dwarves,” I mused.

  Miyasa nodded and we fell silent. The fort below continued to burn, but it was too far away for us to hear the chaos. In truth, I didn’t need to be here. There was nothing of importance for me to see. The oni were pushing out from their defensive lines against an unprepared enemy to take a lightly defended position using tactics they had perfected over decades against me.

  Except there was a problem, and Miyasa’s silence was proof of it.

  “How are you doing, Miyasa?” I asked her.

  “The oni have the power and ability to hold this front, whatever Lyria does in response to this move. Everything is in order,” Miyasa said, staring out from the ridge and holding the reins of her griffin. Her knuckles were white. “There’s nothing to worry about, Mykah.”

  I sighed. This meant things were exactly as I feared. “So Vasi is still unhappy.”


  “The… mothers are not happy with going on the offensive when this is supposed to be a defensive war,” Miyasa said, shifting in her saddle. “Even so, they are cooperating. The oni will hold the north while we move south.”

  “I take it you have had to take some crap from Vasi,” I muttered.

  Miyasa didn’t respond.

  The flares had stopped in the fort. Oni were pouring into the fort proper, and I concentrated my vision on them. It was difficult, as I wasn’t wearing my helmet and therefore lacked my usual vision enhancements. Pushing magic into my eyes was a delicate process and ran the risk of damaging them if I made a mistake. Not permanently, given that I had regeneration magic, but I would remember the pain for months.

  There were a lot of double-horned oni like Miya and Vasi on the offensive here. Most of those swarming the walls and courtyards of the fort were single-horned oni like those in my army, but the archers and spellcasters were predominantly double-horned oni. A few smaller units of double-horned oni rushed the bridge.

  One particular unit of double-horned oni caught my eye. They were wearing the heavy furs I associated with the older and more elite oni. They each carried a cleaver-like blade that dwarfed my own several times over, and their arms were covered in enormous plates of armor. The Imperial soldiers brave enough to face them quickly learned the difference between bravery and stupidity, right before they were carved apart in great blows sweeping through several soldiers at once.

  Oni swordmasters were a worrisome bunch and came in many different shapes and colors. This lot were brutish and terrifyingly effective. They shattered the portcullis that closed off the stone bridge and carved a bloody path across it. It was like watching a unit of warriors with a blend of the most terrifying aspects of Yasno and Hish.

  “It’s been a little while since I’ve seen so many swordmasters in one place,” I said, admiring their handiwork from afar. “Are they broken into martial schools or arts that codify what they learn?”

  “Yes, the differences have blurred over time. Very few of them are truly what they were any more,” Miyasa said quietly.

  “Hopefully they now have the time to codify everything again. Start fresh and take on new pupils, teach them properly,” I said. The inability of the oni to keep their martial traditions whole was in no small part due to me. War was damaging in many ways.

  “I think we all recognize that we have that opportunity. The war we are in now is nothing compared to what it used to be,” Miyasa said.

  The pounding of another griffin approaching was a sign of somebody set to test Miyasa’s statement, I felt. Looking over, I suppressed a groan at the source of Miyasa’s frustrations. Vasi, resplendent in beautiful furs and carrying a pole-axe that looked far too ornamental to be practical, pulled her griffin to a stop.

  She looked at the pair of us with a frown, then narrowed her eyes at me before saying, “General Arium, I had thought you would be busy with your armies to the south, given you have taken all of them down there. Or have you finished and we can withdraw already?”

  This was exactly what was driving Miyasa mad. I could see it in her eyes, even if her face remained impassive. The disrespect, the open refusal to acknowledge the agreement that I would command the military, the sarcasm. Vasi represented every general who led his soldiers to a noble and glorious death while ignoring the tactics and strategies the Empire mandated.

  I saw firsthand why the heralds existed. Vasi was why. Oni and humans truly were similar.

  “Sieging actual cities and fortresses takes time. The supply lines are nearly established, at which point I’ll leave you to keep things stable up here and Lyria at bay,” I said, keeping my face impassive. “Miyasa will join me down south shortly while we deal with Talepolis and then we will crush Lyria. Witnessing the raw power of the oni reminded me of how simple a task holding the dragon here should be for you, especially with my command assisting you.”

  Scowling at me, Vasi paced back and forth on her griffin. Zwei suddenly cawed at her, startling her griffin and throwing the oni off-balance. That was a little mean of my girl, but I stroked her feathers anyway due to how entertaining it was to watch Vasi nearly fall off her griffin.

  “You say that, but should the dragon launch her attack against us with all of her power, then that will certainly leave us far more open than the mothers would appreciate. We are not your pawns,” Vasi spat.

  I shrugged. “Isn’t that what you have your spies and intelligence network for? You kept such close track of the state of the Bulwark and me for decades. Surely monitoring a few armies isn’t so hard. If she suddenly makes some big moves, then tell me and we can plan around it.”

  “That is true enough. I will keep you to your word, General Arium,” Vasi said. “I will see you back at camp, Miyasa.”

  Without another word, Vasi rode back down the ridge.

  I shook my head. Politics was frustrating at the best of times. I had hoped that Miyasa would make this all so much easier, but the reality was that the mothers wanted to have their cake and eat it, too. So I had to push them a bit more.

  “Keep in touch if anything changes, Miyasa,” I said. “At this point, you should be able to join us in the south shortly unless Lyria makes a major move. I want you with us in Talepolis.”

  The smile I got in return was bright enough to make me think the sun had risen. “Yes. Then we can all be together, as we should be.”

  Something about the way Miyasa said that was off-putting, but as I rejoined my soldiers and began a night march east to Tornfrost Watch, I put it out of my mind. There was time yet to sort things out with the oni.

  Chapter 13

  I expected the bedroom of an oni to be emptier. Despite knowing better, I still believed that their warlike behavior meant their homes would be austere and lacking in comforts.

  Instead, Hish filled her officer quarters with anything and everything soft. If it wasn’t nailed down, it ended up here. Hish would receive envious gazes by those who knew of the pile of cushions, cloth, and quilts that covered almost every patch of the stone floor. This was a valuable commodity in a fortress, particularly when winter rolled around again. Hish would always be comfortable in her room.

  The other major surprise was the collection of tea and fine pots, many older than me. There were shelves full of tea leaves, teapots of different materials, and other accessories. I supposed they were necessary for what I guessed to be some sort of tea party or ceremony.

  What we were doing right now certainly wasn’t a ceremony, and I didn’t like describing it as a party. I preferred my parties with alcohol. What I instead had was a pot of tea sitting on the table between me and Hish.

  Not that I was knocking the tea. It was very nice. As a luxury imported from the Arisian Isles, tea was something I enjoyed in moderation. Although I was curious about the history of Hish’s interest and collection, I kept my thoughts to myself. We focused on other topics of discussion instead.

  “So I can’t learn any of your awesome magic tricks because we use different magic styles?” Hish asked me. Her arms were crossed, face set in a frown. Her demeanor was defiant despite the impossibility of her request.

  “Not styles,” I corrected patiently. “We use completely different methods of magic and draw on different sources of magical energy. No two races can truly learn magic from one another, but humans and oni are especially far apart. Sorcery and spiritualism even interact with different planes of existence when we cast our spells.”

  “Plains of existence… Are they like the grassy plains nearby, or are they different because of all of the magic stuff? I wish I knew what they looked like,” Hish asked, biting her lip in frustration.

  Maybe planar theory was a mistake. I kept pushing anyway, and said, “Not plains of grass. You can’t see anything in the planes, unless you’re in the material plane. That’s where we are. Only the material plane is visible and formed of physical matter. The magical and astral planes are formed of pure energy.”
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  “Magic is energy, too, but I can see it when I use it,” Hish countered. “And aren’t dragons made of magic? I can see them.”

  Things began to get exciting, at least in theoretical terms and probably only to me. It had been a long time since I had been able to discuss magical theory with somebody, even if it was the basics.

  I held up a finger and a ball of white light appeared hovering above it. A moment later, the ball split into many shades of prismatic light, then faded away into nothingness.

  “When we create a magical phenomenon, you can see it because everything in this plane must exist in some way. That can be as a form of energy, such as light or heat, or a thing, such as a block of wood,” I explained. Hish nodded along slowly as I talked. “However, the world itself knows that this thing does not belong here. At some point, the energy we use to create it is spent or otherwise broken. Any remaining magical energy is then forcibly returned to the plane of existence it came from. The prismatic light you saw is one side effect of that.”

  Hish frowned and I waited, curious. After a few seconds, she said, “One side effect. I’ve felt a few funny things when lots of rainbow light is around. Are there more side effects?”

  Chuckling, I answered her but withheld the urge to clap. “Plenty. Heat and light are the simplest side effects. Nearby magic can also be disrupted or disturbed, affecting spells or magical beings—although this only applies if a large amount of magical energy is being released. Fire elementals generate explosions by pulling in large volumes of unstable magical energy and allowing the world to rapidly pull it back.”

  “Huh. So you can actually use this theory junk to win. So it’s like battle tactics but for magic?” Hish said. I hadn’t seen her look so interested in something before. She was so focused that her eyes looked like they were going to punch holes in my head now.

  “That’s the whole idea behind mages and mage towers, yes. About what you said earlier, dragons are made of magic, but they are permanently here because the magic within them is bound to this world. The same goes for runes and enchantments,” I said. “Magic can be forced to remain in this world, but it is not easy.”