by Tim Marquitz
His father drew in a deep breath. “You didn’t—”
Sebastian gave a weak shrug. “He left me no choice.”
Darius finished the wrap and helped Sebastian to his feet, not saying a word.
“There’s more.”
His father sighed.
“I ran across the Lord of the Hunt. He directed me to the camp.”
Darius groaned. “I believe the girl, Emerald, carries his child.”
It was Sebastian’s turn to groan. “That would explain why he kept me from falling into Shade’s trap. He’s on the side of the resistance.”
“No. He’s on his own side. What he does is for his own purpose. He is every bit a slave of the witches, the sigils in his flesh an assurance of his ownership when they are about.” Darius handed a tunic to Sebastian. “He is not to be trusted. Emerald is the daughter of the White Witch, which further complicates the certainty of his involvement. He has his own plans, and though I know not what he intends, he is every bit as dangerous as the witches, if not more so for the lack of knowing his intent.”
Sebastian drew in a deep breath, his thoughts in chaos. Though he now knew the Lord’s reason for sending him to warn the resistance, he wasn’t any clearer about why. A servant to the Council, however unwilling, risked more than just his position by impregnating the White Witch’s daughter and carting her across the realm to seek out the enemy. A stranger to love, beyond that which he had for his mother and father, Sebastian didn’t know if that was enough to risk the horror that would befall the Lord were he to be found consorting with Elizabeth and her people.
“Come we must speak with Elizabeth,” Darius said.
“Wait.” Sebastian scrambled to pull the tunic over his head, trying to hurry so he could tell his father everything. “There is something else.”
“Easy, son, I’m not sure I can handle any more of your revelations.”
Sebastian grinned. “This one will do your heart good. The Red Witch has met her end.”
His father just stared for a moment, chewing on his lip, as though he hadn’t heard what Sebastian said.
“I killed her. It wasn’t easy. She nearly had—”
Darius flung his arms about his son and threatened to undo all of Karil’s work as he squeezed him tight. He embraced him for a long moment, Sebastian barely able to breathe before he was released. His father continued to stare, a hint of tears in his eyes. He still said nothing, but gripped Sebastian’s shoulders in his powerful grip, giving them a rough squeeze.
“One down, two to go,” Sebastian chanted. “Now, they’re on their way here.”
Darius nodded, wiping the tears that spilled down his cheeks. “We must take the fight to them. Come, boy, we must speak with Elizabeth for certain now.”
Sebastian hurried off after his father, who had already slipped from the tent without waiting. On his father’s heels, he rushed to keep pace until they found the witch. She called out orders, pointing to and fro as she organized her people, her voice breaking through the chaos with ease.
“What is it, Darius? We have little time.” She snarled, not bothering to look at either of them.
“Time is why I have come to you, Elizabeth. The White Witch and her companions are coming to us, but they believe they have the advantage of surprise. We can turn that against them.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “And face down four witches and the whole of their Red Guard. I think not.”
“Three witches,” his father corrected.
She stared at him, unable to comprehend his meaning.
“My son has slain the Red Witch, so she is not a factor in our deliberations. He and I intend to do the same to the others.”
She looked from Darius to Sebastian, as if hoping to glean the truth from their eyes. Sebastian grinned and nodded, confirming his father’s words. Her eyes narrowed, her hands going to her hips.
“You have struck the White Witch a grievous blow in doing so. Do you truly believe you can kill the rest?”
“Not in direct combat, certainly, but if we can lure them in, we might stand a chance of ending them here and now.”
“I cannot risk myself for the possibility of success, Darius.”
“I’m not asking you to.” He drew closer to her. “I need only a small number of your people to help me. You can lead the rest to safety while my son and I bear the brunt of the combat. We will lure them in and spring a trap upon the witches. The Red Guard will collapse once their masters have fallen, and you can clean up the remnants as you see fit.”
Elizabeth paced. Her uncertainty was clear upon her face. After a few moments, she stopped and looked to Darius. “You may take the men you need, but Emerald and my inner circle go with me, no exceptions.”
“Fair bargain,” Darius told her.
She met his eyes. “I must see to my people. Gather who you need and we will work out your plan once you are done.” She stormed off, calling for Freya.
Having said nothing during their negotiations, Sebastian turned to his father. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Not entirely, no.” His father leaned in so only he could hear him. “As of now, Elizabeth doesn’t know you’ve killed one of her warlocks, but that you have slain the Red Witch. There will be no better opportunity for us to win the war with her support, for she will turn upon us the moment she learns of his death.” He raised his eyebrows in a warning. Sebastian understood. “I expected her to refuse being part of the trap itself, but she will remain close by. She cannot allow us to take the glory or her chance at usurping the throne will slip away, for she wants more than just a realm free of the Council rule.” Darius smiled. “Though she was your mother’s friend, she was always too fond of herself. Her arrogance will keep her tied to our plan while her people make the perfect bait.”
“I’m not sure I can take out three of them, even with your help. One nearly killed me.”
“I don’t intend for us to attack them directly. Since they believe the camp will be caught unaware, they will come in force. Once they realize we are gone, they will have doubts as to how to proceed.” He grinned. “These women know magic, but they do not understand the tactics of the battlefield, which is why they enslaved men like me and Graves. They needed our experience, our leadership in the field, where their power could be turned against them by superior organization and deployment. They will split their forces, leaving the main group behind to await direction while they seek out our trail. We will lead them to where we wish them to be and can spring the trap before their army can be mobilized against us.”
“How can you be sure the witches will come if their army is not with them?”
“I don’t, but I know the White Witch and her minions want us both dead, for they know who we are now; who your mother was. They’ll take no chances with killing us, which means they’ll do it themselves.”
Sebastian stared at his father, wide-eyed at the revelation. He had expected to wage his war against the witches from the shadows, them never knowing who he was or why he came for them. To realize they knew and could guess at the power he brought to bear made him feel a little less confident. As his father had always said, the less an enemy knows of you, the better your chances against them. Sebastian believed that to be true.
At Sebastian’s pause, Darius continued, “Deborah cannot allow us to live, for the Council would turn upon her if they learned she was the one who killed your mother. If she believes they can silence us, she will do everything in their power to do so; to include stumbling into a trap. The less who know of us, the better it is for the White Witch. Because of this, I believe she will take the bait.”
Sebastian swallowed a grin at his father’s convolution of his own theory, turned about to represent the witch’s side. “What about Elizabeth?”
Darius glanced about before he answered. “We’ll deal with her after, if it becomes necessary, but I’d rather not fight a war on two fronts. Keep your mouth shut about the warlock. If it’s to become
a problem, I’d rather it surface later rather than sooner.”
“No one saw it happen, though the resistance man, Jonas, would point the finger were he to reappear.”
“Then we say nothing and hope the witches kill the bastard. That would solve our problem.”
Sebastian nodded in agreement.
“I’m going to speak with Elizabeth. Gather a dozen men, and find at least a couple of them who won’t panic under pressure. We have to be ready before the Red Guard arrives.” Darius ran off into the frenzied crowd to find the witch.
Sebastian started off after him. The moment he’d been raised for was at hand, the Red Witch’s death just a tiny piece of balancing the scales for the loss of his mother. There was so much more to do. No time to dwell on what was to be, he called out for volunteers to join him and his father.
If they were to face death for his revenge, he would have them come willingly.
Twenty-Six
The resistance camp on the move, far from where he sat and under cover of the camouflage warding, Sebastian crouched in a thick cluster of trees they’d found, which best suited their needs. With no clearings nearby, the Red Guard would be forced to drop soldiers by rope from their transports, or land at a distance and march their men in. Both options supplied Sebastian and Darius with the precious extra time they needed to engage the White Witch and her minions without having to worry about facing down the whole of the Red Guard army as well.
It wasn’t the best of plans, by any means, but it was certainly the best they could hope for given the circumstances. They had talked amongst each other as they rushed to help pack the resistance camp for its flight, going over the little details of the most appropriate site to plan the attack and what they would need. After talking to another of the local men, their current location had been pointed out as the most suitable for what they planned, and close enough to reach and prepare before the Red Guard was on them.
The labyrinth of monstrous tree trunks and clinging foliage in the area played to the favor of the ambushers. With plenty of obstructions to limit the buildup of soldiers, the location would keep them in small, manageable groups, not allowing the Guard to swarm in and overwhelm them with numbers even after they had their feet on the ground. The trees also served as protection against the ranged attacks of the witches.
The trunks would bear the brunt of most magical assaults, giving them some small measure of protection, forcing the witches to draw in close or raze the entire forest. With their men within, and their own lives put at risk by such reckless abandon, the witches would be less likely to rain down such overt destruction. Should they do so regardless, the chaos brought about by the fires and smoke would only put them at a further disadvantage, both Sebastian and Darius capable of operating in such extreme scenarios, his father having been painstakingly methodical in Sebastian’s training regimen. If a situation existed in melee combat that Sebastian hadn’t been at least somewhat exposed to, he couldn’t think of it.
Satisfied as best as he could be that they’d done all they could to prepare, Sebastian stared out at the loosely gathered group of volunteers as night fell over them fast. He felt a mixture of amusement and trepidation as he looked upon the young man that played the role of Sebastian. Dressed in his clothes, his cloak and mask in place to hide the specifics of his features, Sebastian’s doppelganger might not be a perfect replica up close, but from a distance, through the clutter of the trees, he was near enough. Knowing full well the man was likely to die for his role, made Sebastian feel somewhat guilty. He vowed to do all he could to keep his copy alive, but thought that might not be enough. He wasn’t even certain he could keep himself alive given the difficult goal they’d set for themselves.
Alongside the copy of Sebastian stood another double; this one standing in for Sebastian’s father. The older man, a perfect decoy for the grizzled general, paced back and forth, just as the old man would have had he been forced to stand in place while the enemy closed in. The man’s nervous energy would only serve to enhance the appearance of him being Darius to anyone who knew the general. At least Sebastian hoped so. Without their misdirection, the plan was destined to fail.
Darius had gone behind the resistance camp and had made sure they left no tracks behind, which might lead the Red Guard to them. Between that and the camouflage spells that kept the group invisible from above, their trail would be dead cold to other trackers, a seeming impossibility for a group so large. That would keep the trackers headed toward the ambush.
While his father had done that, Sebastian set subtle signs of passage that led in the direction of the trap; signs that would likely be missed by your average tracker, but would stand out like beacons to an experienced one. Shade would most certainly spot them, as would any of the trackers sent to find them, the witches certain to use their best to search out the group. Sebastian had been careful not to be too obvious in his trail, leaving only the most likely of mistakes behind. Anything too clear would be a warning to those who followed that the trail had been set purposely, thus ruining its value as a lure. There was a fine line to be drawn, and Sebastian felt he had skirted it with perfection.
Now, there was nothing left to do but wait. That was the worst part. Sebastian’s hand twitched on the hilt of his sword, the blade still sheathed. His father was hidden somewhere in the forest, doing the same as he was; probably chomping at the bit, waiting for the action to start, yet dreading it all the same.
With no certainty the witches would even fall for the trap, it was a frustrating creep of time while he stiffened in place, hoping to spring out soon and relieve the tension that had wound up within him. It had been many hours since he’d settled in to set the ambush, and Sebastian had expected something to happen by then. The fact that it hadn’t ate at him.
He wondered if he’d made a mistake while setting the bait, one of his signs too obvious to be believed. His mind whirling with the possibility that he had doomed them all, he debated heading back down the trail to see if he could find the witches’ group and subtly lead them into the trap before he and his fellow ambushers had the tables turned on them. While they sat waiting, the enemy could be circling to come at them from the other direction. The thought split his attention as his eyes darted off to be sure he wasn’t being sneaked up on.
Every muscle in his body ached, the tenseness of his position growing from mildly annoying to a furor as the time dragged on. He was uncomfortable in the strange outfit he wore, having swapped with his doppelganger. The frayed tunic hung too low and caught against his legs, while the pants crept up and bunched in uncomfortable regions. His leg bounced in place as he contemplated moving, if for nothing more than to have a different perspective than the same view he’d had for far too long. At last, he made up his mind and started to stand when he caught the barest rustle in the branches along the path he’d set. He went rigid instantly.
The men in the clearing, the copies and the others who gathered about as though they were the rear sentries of the larger resistance camp, appeared to hear nothing. They continued on in their quiet actions, unaware that the moment of truth was at hand. It was probably good for them, considering what might be coming. They probably didn’t want to know. Cruel as it sounded, even to Sebastian, It would also keep the resistance men on the hook, which would help him and Darius close the trap. If all went well, he could view it as a necessary sacrifice, as his father would, their lives given in trade for those of the witches. The realm would gladly make the deal. Sebastian wasn’t so sure.
He hunkered down even lower into the foliage, keeping his eyes on the trees where he’d spotted the telling motion. He heard no more movement, but he could see the branches shifting in just the slightest, no breeze in the air to move them. He clenched his teeth, knowing the enemy was close at hand, surveying the scene just as he was watching them. The wait had finally come to an end. Soon, he would be given the opportunity to put his mother’s spirit to rest, once and for all. His breath chilled in his lung
s as he waited, looking for his chance to strike.
The piercing shrieks of a dozen griffins exploded above the leafy canopy and nearly made his heart burst inside his chest, but he knew to keep his attention on the trees below. His father had warned him of the tactic used by the Red Guard to distract their opponents, and though he’d been ready, the sound still sent chills prickling down his back. He grimaced. The decoys hadn’t been warned.
He heard the men in the makeshift camp start and begin to scramble, their true panic and uncertainty only helping to draw the attackers from the woods. Those chosen to be Sebastian and Darius stood their ground more aptly, understanding their part in the ambush, for which Sebastian was grateful. Had they scrambled for cover like frightened rabbits, the trap would have been blown. Their composed reaction did exactly as it was meant to.
From the trees, shadows crept. A number of Red Guard soldiers emerged first, Sebastian recognizing them as the same type of fanatics that had served at the side of the Red Witch; true warriors trained in battle, not just armored rabble. They spilled out fearless, but silent. Behind them came Shade and the Green Witch. The assassin moved slowly, each step tentative, while the green-robed witch could barely contain her excitement. The Red Guard charged toward the camp, having been spotted at last.
The resistance men bolted, fleeing into the woods with loud shouts, as though delivering a warning to the other members who they pretended lay ahead. The doppelgangers spun about and spied the approaching force. They stood just long enough for the approaching army to see, and hopefully, recognize them before the false Darius loosed a crossbow bolt in their direction. They both ran into the cluster of trees, making sure to flee the opposite direction than the rest of the men had gone.
