Darkness and Steel

by Martin Parece

  Aidan sealed the parchment into its own scroll case and dispatched it immediately.

  6.

  Sovereign Nadav’s great chariot had taken almost a month to cross the empire and reach the rally point at Menak’s holdfast. It didn’t have to take that long, but the emperor was in no hurry. He knew that a good many of his troops still gathered for the invasion, so he allowed the driver to set a more leisurely pace. He had stopped at some of the keeps and castles along the way as well for a cleansing bath and soft bed. The lords and ladies of these lands were away of course, waiting on him, but the stewards and such they left behind took great care with their emperor.

  When he arrived, Nadav was gratified to find that he would have to wait on no more soldiers to join the army. Every armored soldier, crossbowmen, slave, corpse and necromancer awaited his arrival, and this included Dahken Geoff and the forces he led from Ghal. Most were patient, as they knew that Nadav’s appearance meant the invasion would soon start, and this would lead to death. Others, like Geoff, seemed to stalk between the barracks and tents with restless anxiety, ready to begin the bloodshed.

  With all of the lords’ armies combined into one, the planning began. Nadav assigned commands to a number of his lords, though the various walking dead would only obey their direct master. The soldiers and slaves were grouped into ranks; Nadav pooled them all and then divided them to make certain that no one command had too many subjects from one lord. The Loszians chaffed at this, but they knew they had no choice. Most of the lords, including Geoff, went without a command, responsible only for themselves and their dead servants, and all of them answered directly to Nadav.

  The soldiers worked to long hours every day to build siege engines of various sorts. Ladders, catapults and towers were assembled, mostly from cannibalized buildings or materials that those with more foresight brought with them. There would be no time to assemble them outside of Fort Haldon, so they must be brought along. Fortunately, the march would only take three or four days, not too far to transport the war machines.

  Nadav walked among the soldiers of his army for days, as it seemed to be the right thing for a general to do. Unfortunately, a solid third of the army consisted of walking corpses, who just stood in the elements awaiting commands from their animators. They were rank and flies buzzed around them in the heat, and the sight and smells of them gave rise to Nadav’s darker impulses. He knew there was no time for such thoughts, and he instead returned to Menak’s quarters.

  As he opened the door, he walked in on a heated argument between Geoff and the one legged, one handed Menak. Other lords, those Nadav had specifically appointed to positions of command, were there also, and the angry words stopped as Sovereign Nadav entered the great room. No one kneeled, and Nadav’s fury blossomed at first, until he reminded himself that he had stopped the practice so long as they were at war. It would do an army no good to march and fight from its knees simply because their emperor was among them.

  “My Sovereign, thank the gods you have returned.” Menak was the first to speak. “Would you please explain to this boy that he is not in command here.”

  “What is the issue?”

  “I am the most powerful warrior in this army!” Geoff nearly shouted, drowning out Menak’s voice. Aware of the disdainful faces around him, he lowered his voice a bit. “I should lead the armored men into battle. It is only right that I command them.”

  “You shall do neither,” Nadav contradicted. “Your place in the coming fight is by my side, until I say otherwise.”

  “But –,” Geoff began.

  “I will not have you question me, boy!” Nadav roared, and the assembled Loszians edged slightly away from the Dahken. “All of you, leave us now. Dahken Geoff and I must speak alone.”

  Geoff fumed as he stood in place, but his anger was kept in check by Nadav’s furious outburst. The Loszian emperor locked eyes with him and did not move as the other lords filed out the door. He turned his head slightly to be sure that they pulled the door closed behind them. Turning his attention back to Geoff, he affected an affable smile, and Nadav sighed audibly as he slowly approached the angered Dahken.

  “You must learn patience boy,” Nadav said.

  “Don’t talk to me of patience! I could slay half this army. I should lead us into battle.”

  “You speak of leading, you speak of command, but they are two different things,” Nadav responded softly. “Perhaps one day you will do both as you lead a Dahken army that obeys your every command, but this is not the time. I need you with me, watching and learning. There is a Dahken in command of Fort Haldon, and he is capable of wiping out massive numbers as well.”

  “I can kill him,” Geoff said, somewhat petulantly.

  “Of this I have no doubt, but not if you’re at the head of armies. At the first sign of you, he will direct all of his resources to kill you, and then I am left without my much needed Dahken ally,” Nadav explained quietly. He now stood just in front of Geoff, and he gently placed a spidery hand on each of Geoff’s shoulders. “You will one day command a Dahken army to conquer the world for the Loszian Empire, and you will rule great lands in my name. I need you Dahken Geoff. The gods know I need you.”

  Nadav leaned over and gently kissed Geoff, full on the mouth. It was not aggressive, not the way Geoff was with his girls, but was instead full of a tenderness that Geoff did not expect from the necromancer. He stood and accepted the kiss, and Geoff knew then that his master truly loved him. Nadav leaned back, but kept his hands on the Dahken’s shoulders

  “Do you understand now Dahken Geoff?”

  “Yes, Sovereign. I’m sorry.”

  “There is nothing for which to be sorry,” Nadav smiled widely as he dropped his hands. “You are a bit impetuous, and you ache to slay and conquer. I would accept no apology for it, but you must learn to temper the feelings with wisdom. I promise you my Dahken, you will have everything of which you have ever dreamed. Go now and rest, for we march for Fort Haldon tomorrow at sunrise.”

  Nadav smiled inwardly at his own performance as the young Dahken exited Menak’s abode.

  Few in the Loszian host slept well that night, and many involved themselves in some form of debauchery in vain attempts to tire themselves. The slaves of course had no such troubles, excepting those used in the mentioned activities, as their life was nothing but drudgery. The knowledge that they may be ordered to die was not a new experience to them. Most of the common soldiers also slept well, even though many of them had never seen such action as what was to come.

  Geoff certainly did not have a restful evening; he was anxious and ready to appear great and powerful before his once Lord Dahken. He tried to sleep, and when he was unsuccessful, pushed himself upon his girls. That led to excitement and exhilaration, even after hours, so he turned to drink in copious amounts. He finally passed out in a stupor upon the ground of his massive tent, and when his honor guard awoke him before the sun rose, he was not prepared for the hardship. He took his ire out on all of those below him, the slave girls receiving the worst of it.

  True to Nadav’s command, the army marched at sunrise, with the corpses and armored soldiers leading the way. Menak assured Nadav that his people had eliminated all of the Western spies in and around the pass. They were in full control, and the Westerners of Fort Haldon would not know of the host until it was upon them. The lords and necromancers stayed in the middle of the giant column with the slaves bringing up the rear, as it was they who carried most of the supplies and siege engines.

  Geoff rode beside his emperor’s chariot, and swept the army with his gaze. It completely filled the pass between the two empires and must have stretched half of a mile long. A lone tear escaped the corner of his eyes, and whether it was for joy or fright not even he knew.

  * * *

  It was with the greatest of fanfare that King Aidan and a retinue of five thousand marched through Byrverus. Giant banners praising Garod and Aquis were hung across white walls, and horns and bells sounded
the coming of the new king. Huge crowds of Westerners had gathered to see and cheer him, and they stretched from the plaza outside of the palace all the way through the city and even into the towns and villages beyond the city walls. Everyone knew that he marched to Fort Haldon, to mete justice upon the traitors that had slain the good Queen Erella.

  The Convocation, or rather the priests that made it as the Convocation was technically dispelled, finally held the ceremony to lay her to rest on the day before. Westerners had filled the temple beyond capacity, and Aidan was certain that the building would burst at the seams as he presided over the funeral. Many gave eulogies. Regardless of their station in life, none were denied that right, so long as they kept it to a matter of minutes. The people cried, sobbed and wailed, and when they had no more tears left, they exited to allow others to come do the same. When the funeral started, the sun was low in the sky to the east, and it was late in the afternoon sky by the time they had finished. A quartet of hulking acolytes lifted the golden reliquary off of the altar and carried it deep into the catacombs to be interred in a crypt of granite. A dozen artisans had worked in the musty darkness for days to cover the small building with reliefs depicting Erella and Garod.

  It was brutally long, and Aidan’s stomach hungered mightily when it was finished.

  Aidan rode a well trained stallion, which obeyed the smallest of his commands with precision, and he was resplendent in white and golden robes with the great crown upon his head. The robes, as well as the great black horse, did well to disguise the roundness of his body, and with Garod’s Scepter in one hand, he knew he was the truest image of kingliness. The people drank deeply of the spectacle and made their adoration plain. Some bowed or knelt as he came by, but all cheered their support of the king and his justice. Aidan kept his face as impassive as possible, keeping his gaze ahead on his course through the city streets, but inside he swelled with prideful arrogance in the knowledge that his people loved him.

  It was just inside Byrverus’ main gates that Aidan finally saw Rederick. The priest had said he would be present for the send off, but the king had begun to doubt his truthfulness. Lord Rederick had already lied about some things, and as far as he was concerned, Aidan had proof of that now. Rederick stood just to the right of the main gate, with his normal attendants – the three priests that sat with him in the Auditorium. There were others also. About two dozen priests in total, few of which King Aidan knew personally, stood around and behind Lord Rederick. They all watched quietly, kneeling as their king passed, but they did not cheer his passage as the commoners did. Aidan had their names, and he knew that they had met a number of times since coming to Byrverus for the Convocation.

  Priests and acolytes across Byrverus and Aquis owed Aidan favors and boons, and he used them for information regularly. To keep them from thinking their debts paid, he rewarded them variously for their time and effort. What he found was that Rederick prayed at temple twice each day, once in the early morning with many of the masses. These services he attended unassumingly, never pointing out to those with whom he prayed who he was.

  How humble, Aidan thought.

  Every night, just as the sun started to drop below the horizon, Rederick left his lodgings to worship again. He went with two servants that carried two heavy boxes between them, and Aidan’s eyes and ears learned that Rederick never went to the same temple two nights in a row. It was only last night, the night after Erella’s funeral that they had stumbled across him in a country temple several miles beyond Byrverus’ walls. He met with over a score of other priests to pray, and under their robes, Aidan’s spy heard the clink and caught the occasional glimpse of polished steel.

  “A man’s old habits die hard,” Aidan had said when the news reached him, “especially that of a fighting man.”

  King Aidan’s retinue, five thousand followers strong, passed through the city’s great gates. About five hundred mounted men in shining steel plate followed him immediately, each attended by two young lads on foot. Behind that came a thousand armed foot soldiers. Two hundred wore light armor of leather or quilted cloth, carrying swords and bows upon their hips and backs. The rest were more heavily armored in various regalia of plate and chain armor, men at arms with various forms of brutal melee weapons. Last came a sea of wagons that carried supplies and servants of all kinds, numbering at least two thousand. Aidan was adamant that his men did not march without the finest of food and entertainment. The journey would take at least three weeks, and three weeks was too long to go without all the comforts of the palace.

  It was almost a mile outside of the city that Aidan had an epiphany. He passed through the villages that rolled into one another for miles around Byrverus, and he could still hear the crowds of people cheering in the city in harmonious accord with the cheers of the less plentiful commoners in the villages. The realization struck him like a lightning bolt, and he cursed himself for being so thick. Lord Rederick of Martherus had obeyed his king’s command after all. He had assembled his Paladins to see their king march to do justice. Perhaps King Aidan could rely on his support after all.

  7.

  A dozen rangers left Fort Haldon, spreading across the nearby lands in the fan-like shape of a Tigolean sail. They rode hard, trying to reach every farmstead within fifty miles of which they knew, and they carried a warning. Invasion was imminent, and everyone unable or unwilling to fight must evacuate. Women and children left Fort Haldon in scores, joining with more women and children on the roads. Some traveled for other nearby keeps or castles, such as Lord Paton’s lands to the south, while many others set out for Byrverus. Many strong men and lads joined Fort Haldon’s garrison, intent on protecting their homes and their loved ones. Swords and arrows were pressed into the commoners’ hands, and their abilities with such were quickly assessed so that they may be sent to where they were most useful.

  While the rangers returned quickly, four other messengers were dispatched with orders to stay at their destinations. These men rode with haste to the three nearest lords and Byrverus to beg for assistance. They were to return to Fort Haldon only with aid, for otherwise they would likely be too late to offer any help in the defense.

  All this Thom, Cor, Thyss and various lieutenants reviewed in Dahken Hall.

  “How many have we gained from the surrounding area?” Cor asked.

  “Two hundred at most,” Thom answered, “mostly farmers and farmers’ sons. They have strong arms and wills, but I don’t know how much that will help.”

  “We’ll take any help we can get.”

  “Any word from Byrverus?” Rory asked, and everyone knew he meant in regards to an army. All knew Aidan had been made King of Aquis. Cor only shook his head silently.

  A map was laid out on the table, and Cor pointed to the cliffs on either side of the granite wall. “How goes our fortifications there?”

  “I have a dozen archers on either side, and we have managed to dismantle several catapults and move them up there,” Thom said. “It is a difficult approach to those positions, up hard rocky slopes. The Loszians will have to commit substantial forces to overrun them. And if they don’t, my men will make them wish they had.”

  “Do they have families?” Cor asked with a look at Thyss. She leaned back in a chair, a bored look on her face. “The men you’ve posted up there, do they have families?”

  “No, Lord Dahken,” Thom answered quietly. They all knew that the posting on the flanking cliffs was a death sentence. “The catapults there are treated with oil. If the men are overrun, they’ll set them ablaze so as not to be turned against us.”

  “May I ask a question?” Keth asked, and they all looked to him expectantly. “All this talk of archers and catapults is great, but how do we defeat walking corpses? How do I kill something that is already dead?”

  Cor opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again with the realization that everything he had ever killed had always been alive. He looked to Thom, who merely shrugged, and they both turned their
attention to Thyss. She still leaned back in her chair pushing her feet against the table, and she stared up into the dark depths of the vaulted ceiling above. It was the sudden lack of conversation that brought her to her senses, and she nearly toppled over when she realized that a half dozen Dahken and Westerners stared at her.

  “Huh?”

  “Dahken Keth asked how we handle the dead,” Cor explained, trying hard not to smile despite his annoyance.

  “Burn them, bury them. I don’t care,” she replied, somewhat irritated.

  “The walking dead,” Cor clarified. “We don’t know anything about Loszian magic. We’re hoping you do.”

  “Oh!” she said, and she dropped her feet to the floor, allowing the chair’s front two legs to slam to the floor. She grimaced slightly and touched her belly with one hand as she stood. Thyss had been feeling the baby kicking for weeks, an experience for which she had been wholly unready. Cor had felt it the first time only a few nights previously while they both lay awake, and it was probably the most amazing experience of his life. The fact that he and Thyss had created a life and that life grew within her – it was simply profound.

  “What you Westerners have to understand,” Thyss began, and Cor noticed Marya tense at being called such, “most Loszian magic is not nearly as dark and nefarious as Garod would have you believe. Much of it is based on enchantment and transmutation.”

  Receiving blanks looks from those around her, she elaborated, “Enchantment is the imbuing something or someone with a power to achieve a desired effect, and transmutation is the turning of something into something else.” She sighed deeply in annoyance as the blank stares changed very little. “It doesn’t matter. The simple fact is, my gods give me some similar powers, though they work differently.