Dark Practices: Book Four of the Phantom Badgers

by RW Krpoun

  “It destroys the balance,” Durek observed bluntly. “Not only is the specter of a hostile fortress on the Hand’s northwestern flank removed, but Arbmante has been thrown into complete confusion. The rules of Arbmante have committed better than two centuries of effort and tons of gold into the creation of the fortress at Alantarn, the maintenance of the garrison there, and the purification of the future anverax, all against the return of a functioning anverax. The loss of Alantarn and the vast majority of their intelligence network is a crushing blow, perhaps even a crippling one. Most of the ruling Council in the Direthrell nation have been assassinated by underlings, and their entire power structure is convulsed by coup and counter-coup with this massive change in their fortunes.”

  “So the Hand will likely strike at Arbmante while it is weakened?”

  “Possibly, but not likely: the damage to Arbmante is political, not military; the garrison at Alantarn is large, but only a fraction of the forces the parent nation can muster. Should the Hand strike south, the Direthrell will unify and face the invasion with everything they have. However, if left alone, the power structure in Arbmante will tear itself apart for years to come.”

  “So Alantarn’s defection has neutralized Arbmante’s ability to operate outside its own borders for the immediate future,” Starr summarized as planned.

  “Exactly. With Alantarn neutral and Arbmante preoccupied with internal disruption, the Hand of Chaos is clear to strike at the west.”

  The last sentence seemed to echo around the room. Slowly Durek looked from face to face in the ranks before him. “I believe that next spring the Hand of Chaos and its allies will invade the Border Realms with the intent of destroying the Realms and securing the port of Sagenhoft. Should they succeed in this an invasion of Arturia or Kerbia and the Thebian States will follow shortly. For the next few years we shall see the worst war the Light has known in over two hundred years.”

  “How do we know all of this, Captain, and will the Company be involved?” Starr delivered her last line on cue.

  “Expert Watchers and Seers keep a close eye upon the east; Peria’s actions are too decisive, too sweeping to be able to hide behind cover-enchantments, as are the developments sparked by his defection. The Hand cannot strike this year, Peria waited too far into spring before making his move to allow them both to prepare, move, and deploy their forces across the Plains and still have time to attack, but by this time next year war will be joined. The word was sent out by enchanted communications devices, I understand some sort of mirror is used. And yes, we will be involved. Over the last few years we have built strong ties with the ruler of Sagenhoft, serving last year on the Bloody Road in his employ. The dispatch I received yesterday was from Sagenhoft, with a request that our Company enter their employment next spring with as many warriors as we can muster; no doubt other companies have or will receive similar offers from the Realms. When the Hand marches, the Badgers will be part of the forces facing them.”

  “No doubt the King of Arturia and the Emperor of the Eisenalder Empire are making plans to send troops to aid the Realms, along with the Dwarven clan-leaders in the Thunderpeaks and the Lanthrell Forest-Lords,” Henri observed, breaking the nervous silence that had followed the Captain’s grim announcement. “They did so during the Ostwind War.”

  “And remember how the Ostwind ended,” Kroh suddenly bellowed, making everyone jump. “With the Hand running back across the Plains with a bloody stump; we’ll do it again, mark my words.”

  “That’s the spirit,” the Captain nodded. “Officers will remain, except for Corporal Gottri, who has guard duty. The rest are dismissed, stow your stools and mind the floor as you leave.”

  When the rankers had departed the remaining Corporals drew their stools closer to the line of chairs. “That went well,” Maxmillian observed. “Starr played her role to perfection.”

  “The scripted delivery was a good idea,” Axel nodded. “By keeping things moving, we didn’t have to field the usual volley of pointless questions.”

  “Yes. Now, our summer campaign will continue as planned, but we shall have to start looking ahead to next year,” Durek explained. “I want everyone to begin giving the matter considerable thought. Sagenhoft is sending brokers into the west to hire mercenaries and purchase arms; I’ll be meeting with one to set up our contract in a couple months.”

  “How bad do you think it will be, Captain?” Rolf asked. “The Hand’s war, I mean.”

  The Dwarf met the big Badger’s eyes squarely. “It’ll be like a mountain falling on the Realms. The Hand won’t make the same mistakes they did last time, and they won’t quit until they’ve won or been broken. I doubt the war will be over in one summer, or even two. If we’re lucky, the forces of the west will hold in the Realms, but we could end up fighting in Arturia or Kerbia before this is all over. This is the Hand’s best shot at the west, and they’ll make the most of it.”

  “Is there any chance of Arbmante pulling together before next spring?” Henri asked. “I hate to think that I would hope for help from the Dark Threll, but they would be serving our purposes if they could rally.”

  “Doubtful,” Arian answered for Durek. “Alantarn’s anverax has dominated their strategic thinking for two centuries, and the Direthrell always place a huge emphasis upon their spy networks; in a single act they’ve lost both. I would guess that it will be a decade before Arbmante recovers from the shock.”

  “Script aside, why doesn’t the Hand launch a strike against Arbmante?” Rolf asked. “They’ll never get a better chance.”

  “Because the bulk of the Hand’s invasion forces, whichever direction it attacks, will be made up of Orcs, Goblins, and Eyade tribesmen drawn from the Blasted Plains. All three fear the Direthrell to a unreasonable degree. Besides, the Hand and Arbmante fought three long and bloody wars in the seventh century of the Second Age, and all it accomplished was to weaken both nations. If the Hand attacks Arbmante and is beaten, its holdings will be invaded; if the Hand attacks the Realms and is repulsed, the Plains acts as a buffer against reprisals.” Durek shrugged. “Assaulting the Realms is no real risk to the Hand itself.”

  “And if the Hand takes the Realms, and especially Sagenhoft, then its hold on the Plains dwellers will go from allies to a master-vassal relationship,” Elonia pointed out. “As well as winning alliances with Goblin and Felher nations in the Thunderpeaks. Then they would have the strength to turn and deal with Arbmante.”

  “Why don’t they take Alantarn now, before someone else does?” Starr asked. “Without Arbmante as a counter-balance, the fortress ought to be vulnerable.”

  “You saw the place,” Arian grinned. “Taking it would be an expensive proposition, and for what? Long before the inner defense fell Peria would have his magicians ruin the potential anverax once and for all, so in the end the Hand would have expended massive forces for no real gain. Without Arbmante behind it, Alantarn is no longer a threat to their northern flank. I don’t doubt that the Hand has people assigned to figuring out some way of seizing the fortress intact by stealth or corruption, but overt military action would leave them with nothing.”

  “Wouldn’t it be a good thing for them to see a potential anverax ruined? After all, they control half the black andern produced,” Starr persisted. “A third functioning site would cut into their influence.”

  “Yes and no. You take the cost of a siege operation against Alantarn which would take a couple years, a full field army, heavy troop losses, and massive amounts of gold and andern, and balance it against the effect of Alantarn eventually controlling another anverax. Ultimately, I don’t think a siege would be worth the price, especially if the Hand can seize the Plains. Once the Realms fall, the Felher and Goblins in the Thunderpeaks will rally to the Hand banner, leaving Alantarn very isolated. It might be possible to bleed Alantarn to death an inch at a time once the Hand controls the Plains.”

  “Enough,” Durek ended the discussion. “We’ve got the next ten months to discuss
the ramifications of Peria’s actions and the likely course of the coming war, but for now we have a summer campaign to mount. Elonia, is your group ready to depart?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Good, you will leave in the morning, and the main body will depart on the summer’s campaign on the fourteenth; hopefully you can deal with your business and rejoin us before too long. Are there any other questions? Good, then this conference is adjourned.”

  The Teasau Group met late that same afternoon with Arian to finalize their plans before departing for the city, using the castellan’s office in the tower to avoid causal eavesdropping.

  Maxmillian went over the basic outline of the situation before them while Elonia studied her small group. There were five in the raid force: herself, Maxmillian, Tonya Oesau, Philip Milden, and a taciturn halberdier who answered to ‘Pug’ for reasons of his own. Tonya was the unit’s standard bearer and a veteran of the Legions, a tall (two inches short of six feet) woman of twenty-eight years with deeply tanned skin and raven hair that set off her hazel eyes to best advantage. She was what could be called a handsome woman, neither pretty nor plain, with regular features, good skin, and a strongly-muscled figure that still retained its femininity. Tonya had been in Teasau once, passing through it two years ago on her way to enlist in the Phantom Badgers; she had spent one night there, and had made no acquaintances.

  Philip ‘the Ferret’ Milden was a wiry man of thirty years with sharp features and thickly curling black hair that coated his body like a pelt and left his chin perpetually blue with stubble. Only two inches shorter than Tonya, he always gave the impression of being much shorter than average, a bright-eyed smiling man who reminded most people of nothing so much as a dark-hued ferret, an impression which had resulted in his nickname. Philip had only been with the Company for six months, but he had proved himself very competent in that time and, most importantly, as a man who could be relied upon to both follow orders and think on his feet. His inclusion in this group stemmed from his background: born and raised in Sagenhoft in the Border Realms, he had served as a scout in the City-State’s military before working as a thief-taker and later a bodyguard, thus demonstrating a good grasp of city life as well as being a woodsman. Not incidentally, he had never set foot in Teasau.

  Pug was a Arturian foot soldier who had joined the Badgers two years earlier after surviving what was known in the Company as the Fight at the Orc-Fort; he was a year older than Philip, a hulking slab of a man whose hands still had the black stains of a blacksmith on them, a trade Pug had spent his youth apprenticing in. Little else was known about him; Pug was easily the least-talkative Badger in the history of the Company. He was also utterly reliable, had grown up in a large city, and like Philip had never been to Teasau.

  “So, that is our mission,” Maxmillian summarized. “Find out who got Arian and Janna ejected, discover why they are abducting the children, and deal with them appropriately.”

  “We will operate in two teams, each team pursuing a different line of investigations,” Elonia took over the briefing. “Maxmillian and I will pose as jewel-sellers, using as stock the gem stones Arian and Janna hadn’t gotten around to selling before they were ejected; Philip and Tonya will pose as dealers in leather art work and oddities, using some captured goods which had gotten overlooked in our stores and what we were able to purchase at the Festival. Both teams will pose as husband and wife, which is not uncommon for travelling traders. Neither team will meet at any time while in Teasau; in order to communicate, Pug will work as a street vender selling sausages at an appropriate place.” The Seeress passed each group member a short hollow tube of smoked glass two inches in length, each end capped with a small cork, and set out a mustard pot on the table. “Each team will have several of these; a note will be inserted in the tube, and the tube dropped into a mustard pot, so.” Holding a tube in her right hand, the mixed-blood Badger drew the mustard brush out of the pot, and ran its bristles over an imaginary sausage held in her left. When she replaced the brush in the pot the clink of the tube landing within could be plainly heard. “Naturally, the mustard or butter in the real pot will eliminate the noise. Pug will recover the tube and insert it into the other team’s next purchase; each team will check in with Pug at least every other day. To keep from patronizing the cart too much, which would attract notice if we’re being shadowed, Pug will use a simple code: if he has a message to be delivered, he will have three onions on one of the strings hanging from the roof of his cart. All we will have to do is walk past his cart and glance at the onion strings. Once the message is picked up, Pug will wait a bit, no more than an hour, and then take an onion from that string unless the team that picked up the note left one behind. Likewise, Pug can communicate with either team if he needs to.”

  “If we’re being watched, won’t the watchers notice that our sausage-seller raids the mustard-pot each time we make a purchase?” Philip asked.

  “I doubt they would suspect such a causal contact, but in any case Pug will keep the mustard and butter pots behind the counter in a cold-box built into the cart itself; a customer has to ask for them. Once he has picked up a message he will put that pot aside for at least half an hour before recovering the tube, in case anyone trailing us watches him for a bit; naturally, he will have several pots so receiving a message will not put him out of business for an hour. Now, should we want to send a message specifically to Pug and not the other team, we will use one of these tubes.” Elonia laid out a wood tube of the same dimensions. “You will each be given a quantity of these tubes, paper strips cut to fit them, and a mustard-pot with which to practice making the drop. I’ve found that a couple hours will make you expert enough, all the more so as the cart has been set up so that is very difficult to see a customer’s hands while he or she is adding condiments.”

  “Where did you get the cart?” Tonya asked.

  “We bought it from a sausage-seller after the Festival and modified it to our needs, and Rosemary has taught Pug the finer points of sausage-grilling. Now, should you need to deliver a bulky item or items to Pug or another team we have selected hiding points outside the city. Put the item or items in a hiding place and send the location by note; never use the same hiding place more than once. There will be meeting places selected in case a face-to-face meeting becomes essential, used the same way as the hiding places. Is everyone clear on how this works? Good, I’ve written up a list of rules and procedures in case an emergency develops, and we’ll cover various contingencies on the first leg of the trip.”

  “Now, we have two leads initially: Maxmillian and I will look into the matter of this man who killed himself, the one Arian found out about from Sheeny; Tonya and Philip will look into the matter of the false Company insignia. It was quality work, and had to be done in a considerable hurry, so presumably the persons mounting the deception were forced to use someone they knew and used regularly, someone we may be able to use to back-track to them. Again, we’ll cover all this in greater detail later, but these are the directions we will initially pursue. Obviously we shall have to remain very flexible in our thinking if we are to have any chance of uncovering our opponents. Always keep in mind that they attempted to kill Arian and Janna in order to safeguard their secrets; they will not hesitate to use the same methods again.” She nodded to the monk. “Arian will now share some information with us.”

  The Brother-Effactor surveyed the five faces. “You’re most likely going to be hunting a cult in Teasau, and you need to understand what that means. I’ve heard a number of Badgers comment that cult-hunting cannot be too difficult because even Rolf and Kroh put one down a few years ago, but remember: that was a murder cult which had made a terrible blunder that was found too quickly to fully hide. There are numerous cults dedicated to the secret worship of the Void, and each grouping within a cult is different, secretly evolving and changing from the central norm with time and circumstance. Every cultist is committed to the death, as death is the penalty for membership within
such a cult in the Empire and every other civilized land. Never forget what the stakes are for the cult members”

  “Now, what you face is mostly likely a group of what is usually known as the Evening’s Gate, although there have been variations on the name. The Gate worship the Dark in an unusual manner; they are called perversion or pleasure cults but both descriptions are a gross oversimplification. Perversion suggests a deranged, disorderly mind, and pleasure-cult suggests nothing more than indulgence in questionable or exotic sexual practices. Both are misconceptions that the Gate does nothing to discourage, as they reduce the apparent danger the cult poses to the world of the Light. The Gate, however, is as dangerous in its own way as the Hand of Chaos; remember, the Hand was once just tiny groups meeting in secret, and today it is a nation.”

  “The Gate is organized in a very rigid manner, with a rigorous method of measuring each member’s devotion and trustworthiness. Complete, utter dedication to the cult and its goals are the ultimate goal of the hierarchy; by the time a member has reached the inner circle where full knowledge of what the Gate seeks and desires every bond in the member’s life will have been broken, every restraint set asunder, every value corrupted, and every bit of pride, self-worth, and hope profaned by experts.”

  “What happens in the inner circle?” Philip asked.

  “The cult, through terrible ceremonies involving Human sacrifice and similar activity, summon what is called a Lightless Sphere: essentially a physical manifestation of the Void. From this they draw dark powers and benefits, most notably an extended longevity, new or heightened senses, physical beauty, and the like. The Sphere is their strength, and their most terrible weakness: a group is dedicated to a specific Sphere, which has a kind of personality unique to it, I won’t burden you with all the metaphysical details. Suffice it to say that should anything happen to the Sphere, each member of that group of the cult that summoned it would suffer harm, the degree depending upon the degree of absorption into the cult a particular individual had achieved.”