Gormer couldn’t stop laughing as he told them his plan. Now they had a centerpiece for their operation.
But Astrid was worried. Relying on a single point of failure for a grand strategy was always a bad idea. Her confidence in Gormer wasn’t the issue; it was random chance that worried her. One wrong move and they would have to face force with force, and that meant long bloody battles with thousands of fighters.
My Name is Rupert and I Have a Great Deal for You
“Stop right there, mister!” the ruddy-faced guard called as he leveled his crossbow at Gormer.
Gormer pulled back on the reins and the two draft horses pulling the wagon came to a stop a dozen feet from the gray wood of the warehouse doors. This was an old part of town, used mainly for the work that few people wanted to do.
Soap and candles were made here. This was the place where hides were tanned and leather was made and sundry other dirty jobs were performed. It was a nasty place where only nasty people lived.
The people who did the valuable work here would come at dawn, work a full day, then leave. They were not the people Gormer had come to see. He was there to meet the people who truly ran the place. He was there to see the criminals.
The entire street smelled of rendered animal fat and chemicals Gormer couldn’t identify. The stench made it hard to concentrate, and there was a moment when it was so distracting that he nearly lost control of the illusion.
The guard laughed at the expression Gormer was projecting on Rupert’s face.
“What brings an upstanding citizen like you to this part of town?” the guard asked.
“I am here on business. Go and fetch your taskmaster. I have a proposition for her.”
The guard made a sour face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just guarding this storehouse. I’m a salaryman. I don’t know nothin’ about business. Ain’t no business done here, so you can keep right on going.”
The Rupert illusion harrumphed haughtily and Gormer had to concentrate to move with the clumsy motions of a sedentary man.
“Hey! Get back on your…” the man’s voice trailed off.
Gormer pulled the canvas tarp off the wagon to reveal a pile of scrap metal. “I think your mistress will want to see this. Do you want to be the one to turn me away? I’m sure Gwenda won’t mind it if I go see her competitor Jim, whom I understand, is right down the block.”
“H-how do you…” the guard sputtered. He stopped himself, realizing he just confirmed information for this unwanted guest.
Without taking his eyes off Gormer, he thumped a filthy fist on the door and shouted, “Open up!”
A muffled clank and scrape spilled into the alley; someone on the other side of the door was drawing back a bolt. Hinges screeched as the door opened a crack. A weathered face with a wild gray beard framing it peeked out.
“What is it?” the man croaked.
“This rich turd here says he wants to make a deal,” the guard said.
“Send him in,” the man growled.
“OK, tubby,” the guard said. “Lenny here will show you in. Enjoy your stay.” The guard cackled as Gormer climbed back onto the wagon and drove it slowly through the doors.
It took him a few seconds to adjust to the dim light that managed to creep through the filthy skylights above. When he could finally see, there were men holding loaded crossbows pointed his way.
A short stout woman stepped into what quickly became a bristling circle surrounding Gormer and the wagon.
“Thank you for bringing me all this lovely scrap metal,” Gwenda said. “You can leave now.”
Gormer huffed. “But we haven’t discussed payment!”
“You don’t seem to understand what is going on here. My payment to you is leaving you breathing, so take your fancy clothes and your superior attitude and get the fuck out of my warehouse.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Gormer intoned. The nervousness was not an act. He hoped this wouldn’t be over before it started. “You stand to gain much more than a single wagonful of scrap if you negotiate—but perhaps all you know how to do is steal? In that case, I will be on my way.”
Gwenda removed the smoldering pipe from her mouth and gave a wheezy laugh. “OK, fancy man. You have my attention.”
“You will escort me and my wagon to Keep 49. I have information that our liberators will want to hear.”
“Wrong answer,” Gwenda said. She stepped forward and the circle closed. “That was a demand, not an offer.”
Gormer backed up against the wagon. He thought that was something Rupert would do. “That was just an opener. When you do this, I am prepared to pay you double the going rate plus sign a generous and exclusive contract with you to be my warehouse operator and freight company.”
Gwenda shook her head and puffed angrily on her pipe. The smoke billowed around her head as she responded heatedly. “It’s arrogant shit-sticks like you who will fall when the right lieutenants take control of this protectorate. I’ve been supplying metal to them for weeks. When they take over, lazy fat rich bastards like you will be out and me and my people will take your place.”
“Ha!” Gormer scoffed. “I will throw in this advice for free. You are fooling yourself if you think the lieutenants will continue to deal with you once you have served their immediate purposes.”
That gave Gwenda pause and Gormer pounced. “You can take my scrap, and I will get to Keep 49 another way. There the leaders of the liberation will learn how you stole from me and risked losing valuable information.”
Gwenda countered, “That might only be true if, one, you are not bullshitting and two, if I let you out of here alive.”
Gormer just smiled and replied, “If you think I came here without contingency plans in place, maybe you’re not the shrewd businesswoman I thought you were. If I die here my colleagues will know, and when they tell of how you killed me…”
“What colleagues?” Gwenda demanded, calling the bluff.
“The very colleagues who have been spying on that whore Astrid for months. The same colleagues who have been working in secret to gather information that will allow the lieutenants to take control of this protectorate again—but only if they can transmit their information. I’m offering to let you be the one to make that happen. You may never be as rich as me, but if you are smart you might come very, very close.”
One of the henchmen whispered in Gwenda’s ear, and she narrowed her eyes and looked Gormer up and down. “We’ll send you out with the next shipment. It might be the last shipment. They’ve been tightening up the borders lately.”
“You are correct,” Gormer replied. “My sources tell me we have a very small window.”
“We should get going then,” the henchman said.
Gormer stood there with a satisfied smile while Gwenda made her preparations. The first part of the plan was underway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
This is War
Astrid gave the order to close the borders of the fortress wards three hours after Gormer left on his mission to impersonate and infiltrate. They’d spent the evening meditating together to help Gormer focus all his magic on maintaining the disguise, but now it was Astrid who had trouble focusing.
Once again she was sending a single person on a mission from which he was not likely to return, and they both knew it. This was high risk; anything could go wrong.
“I’m worried too,” Vinnie said as he sidled up to her.
They stood in a guardhouse about half a mile from the checkpoint they had used the day before yesterday. Now the gate closed the road and a dozen heavily-armed soldiers patrolled the area.
Astrid and Vinnie were waiting for the first wave of the troops she would use to extend the influence of the wards out into the countryside.
Scouts had reported little activity from the captured keeps. Of course she ordered them not to get too close, so she wasn’t certain of that information. She only knew the enemy was not on the move.
“Mental ma
gic?” Astrid asked without making eye contact. The guardhouse was higher than the checkpoint, which gave her a clear view of the rolling lowlands for miles.
“I know you well enough to understand that you’re worried,” Vinnie replied.
“Worry doesn’t win battles,” Astrid replied, trying hard to keep her mind on the task at hand.
“No, but it makes you human,” Vinnie replied.
She gave him a reserved smile. They both turned at the sound of marching feet and the low rumble of many horses and the army crested the hill like a single entity.
The horses came first, spread out across the entirety of the wide road. Then, came the foot soldiers, some equipped with the new shields created by the Forge mages at Argan. They numbered about five hundred. The rest of the foot soldiers had shields made of wood.
The supply wagons followed, along with the medic corps Astrid had formed a few months back.
“In his last report,” Vinnie remarked, “Pleth said that most of the keeps have depleted their food surplus. Tribute to the treasury will be next to nothing.”
“There are a lot of people here who should be getting the fields ready since it’s spring, but they are marching off to battle instead.” Astrid shook her head.
“With any luck, this will all be over soon,” Vinnie answered.
Astrid watched the last wagons roll by. “That should be six thousand troops, and it’s just a start.”
“We have another four thousand preparing at the other keeps,” Vinnie explained. “They should be coming into play by tomorrow.”
“How about shield production?”
“We’re producing about two hundred a day. The roads are drying up, so we’re shipping them from the caves quickly.”
“The caves? Not Argan?”
“We moved the Forge people to the caves to be closer to the raw material.”
“Good thinking,” Astrid replied.
The army had assembled at the checkpoint, so Astrid was surprised when she heard another wagon. Correction—two wagons.
When Vinnie saw who was driving his face turned splotchy red. He was not generally prone to anger, but seeing his young students in a wagon in full armor set him off. They had disobeyed orders.
“No!” Vinnie boomed. “No, no, no! You turn around and go back right now!”
Astrid palmed her forehead. Telling teenagers “no” was the surest way to lose the battle. She stood beside him to present a united front; it was the best she could do.
“You should listen to us first!” Jakub shouted.
Astrid tried not to groan aloud. Things were rapidly going from bad to worse. Figuring out a complex battle plan felt easier than trying to right this capsizing ship.
“There is nothing you can say to me that will convince me that having you anywhere near all-out warfare is a good idea!”
The shouts and protestations went back and forth while Astrid watched hopelessly. Cole was off the wagon and stomping around like a toddler in the lumpy, first-generation armor he loved so much.
“Everyone shut the fuck up!” Astrid boomed. The outburst was so out of character for her that everyone froze immediately, which had been the plan. Now that she had shocked them into silence she softened. “We don’t have time for this. I don’t know why you are here, but you are here now. You want to be part of this? Fine. Stay in the rear and follow orders. But you should know that if you don’t follow orders—especially in battle—you are likely to end up dead. Or worse, you’ll get somebody else killed. This is not a game.”
Vinnie stood there with his mouth hanging open. Astrid pulled him out of earshot behind the guardhouse.
“What the hell are you doing?” Vinnie demanded.
Astrid was stung. This was the first time in their friendship that she had earned his anger. “They’ve made up their minds. You send them back, they won’t be any good to anyone and they’ll get into more trouble.”
“Good to… Astrid, they’re kids!”
“They’re kids who, like it or not, have the ability to create objects that will help us win this war. If we didn’t employ them to that end we’d be even more irresponsible than letting them come along.”
“You’re talking about them like they are assets.”
Astrid gritted her teeth and her eyes narrowed. “Because they are—just like you and me. These are the horrible choices we find ourselves with.”
“This is madness,” Vinnie exclaimed. He shook his head as if trying to wake from a dream.
“I agree,” Astrid replied. “I hope it is just a short violent spell that will pass.”
“Who’s going to watch them while you and I are fighting?”
“Nobody,” Astrid said, as she walked back toward the rebellious teens.
“Congratulations,” Astrid told them. “You’re adults now. The penalty for disobedience during battle is imprisonment or death.”
Jakub gave a little chuckle, then his face paled as Astrid stared him down.
“Now get your asses to the main force. You stay in the rear of the battle unless and until you are ordered to do otherwise. I will send you things to repair—weapons, armor, anything that needs fixing. Your job is to support this operation. Do not get in the way of battle. If the battle comes to you, fall back and continue to support the mission from the rear. Do you understand?”
“M-may I speak, Astrid?” Jakub asked, truly frightened now. Even Cole looked reasonably subdued. When Astrid nodded, Jakub continued, “We have two more wagons of materials coming. We can make shields and other things.”
“Very well,” Astrid said. “I authorize you to do that until you start getting equipment to repair.” The students stood there for a moment until Astrid shouted, “What are you waiting for! Go! You have orders!”
They took off in short order and Vinnie watched them go. A few minutes later, just as Jakub had said, two wagons loaded with the minerals necessary to make sacred steel rolled by.
“Did you mean what you said about the penalties for disobedience?” Vinnie asked.
“This is war,” Astrid replied somberly.
Welcome to Keep 49
Gormer practiced deep breathing on the last mile to the keep that grew ever-so-slowly larger as they approached. The land was flat here. He had been living in mountains and hills for years, so the unfamiliar terrain added to his stress.
He had never held an illusion for this long. He had told Astrid with great confidence that he would have no problem doing this, but of course he had lied.
He had no idea if he could pull this off. He suspected Astrid knew; otherwise, why would she meditate with him all night and help him focus his magical energy?
“You look very worried,” Gwenda declared almost happily.
“Of course I am,” Gormer replied. He had been in Rupert’s head deep enough to know how he thought, but he had to work hard to remember all the faces he’d seen. “We are on the brink of war.”
One name stood out, and Gormer worked hard to associate it with a face. The name was Gerolf Maran; that was the man to see. He was a close business associate of Rupert’s, so that was his mark. If he could sell the illusion to Gerolf he could sell it to the rest.
They finally reached the keep and the gates opened instantly. Gwenda was well known to the guards. The face of Rupert, however, was not. The wagon was instantly surrounded.
“Who is this person?” the guard in charge demanded.
“He is a businessman. He has information for the lieutenants.”
“Do you vouch for him?” the head guard asked.
“Hell, no,” Gwenda said. “I’ve kept my hand on my sleeve dagger the whole ride.”
Gormer froze inside but outwardly looked offended.
“But I tell you boys one thing,” Gwenda added. “If he’s legit, I’ll get a hefty commission for bringing him in. Otherwise I’ll ask to slit his throat myself!”
The guards thought this was hilarious and let them pass.
“You are a vi
le creature,” Gormer huffed. He meant it. He hopped off the wagon as soon as it stopped, only to find that three guards, including the boss guard, had followed the wagon.
“You just stay right there while I get one of the lieutenants,” the boss guard said.
But a familiar voice rang in Gormer’s ears. It wasn’t familiar because he had heard it before. It was familiar because he had experienced it in Rupert’s thoughts.
“Gerolf!” Gormer exclaimed as the man came into view from the covered walkway that ran around the keep. He almost didn't recognize Gerolf, since Rupert thought of him as a much younger man.
“Do you vouch for him, Mr. Maran?” the head guard asked.
Gerolf puffed in exasperation and ignored the guard. “You must forgive these small people. They take their jobs seriously—which is why we keep them around—but they can be tedious.”
The guard took the abuse but fumed. Gormer doubted Gerolf noticed or cared that the guard was angry.
“Yes, I vouch for this man. Run along now and continue watching your doors.”
“Gate guards, let’s get back to work,” the boss barked.
“So, you finally managed to come out of hiding?”
“Hiding in plain sight!” Gormer exclaimed. Please let this work, he pleaded to unknown forces.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I hid right under their noses. After I left prison—”
“They locked you up?” Gerolf interrupted.
“Yes. I was released after I convinced them that I was sorry for the error of my ways. That Astrid character really is weak. So gullible…”
“When we hadn’t heard from you, we just assumed you were hiding in one of your properties.” Gerolf paused to give a sly smile. “Or maybe with one of your mistresses.”
“Ha…ha!” Gormer said, drawing the non-words out. He slapped Gerolf’s shoulder and roped his arm around the younger man. Gormer took a split-second to reach into Gerolf’s mind, although to do that he had to divert energy from the illusion. It was a risk, but he had to know.
Gerolf was buying the act, hook, line, and sinker.
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