by Randi Darren
“Consider it done,” Sam said. Her wings fluttered, and then she was off like a fox. She kept low to the grass, flashing along quickly.
“I’ll get my troops ready, my king,” Gerard said, taking several steps off to the side of the path and sitting down.
“Leila, anything you can lob at them from this distance when they get to the gate? Preferably to hit them right as they’re going through,” Vince said.
“Uhm. Maybe? I’m not sure I have the power for—” Leila paused as Vince sat down on the ground right there.
“What are you doing?” Leila asked.
Reaching out he snatched up the small woman and pressed her down into his lap. Laying his hands on her shoulders he started channeling every bit of power he could into her.
“You’ll have the power now, so get to work,” Vince said, giving her shoulders a tiny shake to make sure she was still there.
“O-o-o-oh. Yes. Ok. Yes,” Leila said tonelessly as he got her drunk on magic.
Leila said something under her breath in a drunken sing-song voice and then flicked out a hand.
A tiny purple arrow sped off.
It landed fifty feet from the gate to the Elven stronghold.
“That… that should be the range. With a tiny bit of a-adjustment,” Leila said, wobbling back and forth in his lap.
“Good. Red, Ramona, please act as guards? Fes, I can’t think of anything else that would be helpful, can you?” Vince asked. “I don’t think they’ll send anyone this way, but I’d rather be ready for it.”
Fes shook her head. Unsheathing her big blade, she moved to stand beside Red and Ramona. Clearly she intended to act the part of a guard for the time being.
“I agree,” she said.
Leila started to sing softly to herself, her body bobbing along. She kept her hands in front of her, out of Vince’s view.
He could actually feel the drain of power though as it cycled out of Leila, and draw directly from where he was feeding her more.
“Red is tired of fighting. Red enjoys hunting, not fighting. Red wants to go home, have Mouth get Red a meal, and go to bed,” whined the Cursed One, dropping down to a kneeling position. Her tail flicked back and forth in an annoyed fashion.
Ramona sighed and shifted her weight around. She crossed her arms and her wings spread out behind her. “While I’m not going to even discuss your meals with you, I do agree with you about going home. I have become truly tired of fighting,” admitted the Dragonnewt.
“At least for now,” she amended.
Off to the west, Vince saw a flash.
Honing his mind, he focused in on it.
Sam. Sam on her way back.
Pressing his lips together, Vince waited as the Fae approached.
In no time at all, Sam was back.
Panting heavily, the Fae flopped over his shoulder, her arms dangling over his chest, her legs on his back.
“The general… knows. She says… go ahead,” Sam got out between gasping breaths.
“Gerard?” Vince asked loudly.
A soft chuckle came from behind.
“They’re on the way, my king. You know, this is much more interesting than being a chancellor. The Undead brigade of Yosemite. Yes. I like it,” Gerard said, chuckling darkly to himself.
Not sure if I’m going to regret that one or not. He might enjoy being a leader of Undead armies and ask to be in the field more often.
“Here we go then,” Vince said, tightening his hold on Leila.
Chapter 33
The grotesque horde of recently deceased came boiling out of the woods to the southeast of the fight. They ran as fast as their rotting bodies would carry them.
Having been stripped of armor and weapons, only the sound of their footfalls could be heard.
Several Faeries shot forward from Petra’s defenses to slip in amongst her soldiers. Seconds later they departed.
A message had been relayed to their forces, and it was obvious to Vince it had been about the undead.
Kitch and her people seemed to be readying, but not acting. They were rotating forces to the front and pulling back the weary for a breather at the rear.
Calls went up from the High Elves, trumpets blaring.
The Undead horde had been spotted.
It was too late though.
Before the Elven army could decipher the call and react, the Undead fell upon them.
Undead really are great for flanking. Terrible for anything else except in large numbers.
In that initial onslaught, a good number of High Elves were pulled down to the ground and slaughtered.
At the same time, Kitch and the army of Yosemite began pushing forward.
The High Elves were trapped between the hammer and the anvil of Yosemite.
Unfortunately the Undead couldn’t keep their wants in check, and immediately began feasting on those they brought down. It wasn’t until those meals died that they’d move on to another enemy.
Using that window of time, the High Elves, or what remained, made their escape.
They set off at a dead sprint for their own fortification, shedding weapons and armor as they went.
Sam rolled off Vince’s shoulder and flopped to the ground, starting to recover.
“They run in full retreat,” said the Fae, peering down at the field.
Leaning in close to Leila, Vince spoke into her ear, cutting her loose from the magical flow.
“Are you ready? They’re going to be in position soon.”
Leila gave her head a quick shake, and then blinked several times.
“Y-yes. The recoil might be rough,” Leila responded.
Looking down he could see Leila’s hands. They were cupping a dark ball of purple energy.
He also got an eyeful of Leila down the front of her robe. Leaning back he forced his eyes back to the fight.
Definitely built like a woman, even if a small one.
Then his thoughts were blasted out of his head as Leila’s hands went forward.
The force her spell generated backwards was enough to flatten Vince onto his back. Then he was spun end over end.
Tucking up in the fetal position, he held onto Leila. Curling up around her, he did his best to shelter her as they tumbled along in the grass.
A final flip and they ended up sideways in the grass, Leila squished between Vince’s arms and legs.
Only seconds passed before Mouth was there, her hands exploring over both of them. Checking for injuries.
“They’re fine,” Mouth called out. “Shaken, but fine.”
Lifting his head, Vince strained to see what was going on.
He laid eyes on the gate, just as the ball of magic hit.
The detonation was truly devastating to anything living it touched. It melted through retreating Elves as if they were made of tissues. Sticking to the walls and ground, the magical nightmare hung around, hissing and bubbling.
The Elves trapped between the magical goo and the forces of Yosemite had nowhere to go. Rather than getting close to the enemy defenses, the soldiers of Yosemite parted ranks.
High Elves in Yosemite colors stepped to the front and began lobbing balls of fire and spears of ice into the enemy ranks.
After a minute, the butchery was over.
Kitch led the forces of Yosemite back towards their own fortress. Behind her, the Undead held the field.
Slowly they began gathering the enemy dead and laying them out. Preparing them to join their ranks.
Friendly dead were carried to the fort and laid down in front of the gate.
They’d not be forced into Undeath.
Setting his head back down on the grass, Vince let out a breath.
“That was impressive, Leila. It tore them apart as if they were nothing,” Vince said.
“Mm,” Leila responded softly.
Rolling over to one side, he released the Gnome. Easing her onto her back he stared into her face to make sure she was alright.
Leila’s la
rge glittering eyes stared up at him, her pupils little more than pinpricks.
“Rebound,” Leila said, meeting his eyes. “Feel sick.”
Nodding his head, Vince scooped up Leila and held her against his chest.
Leila listlessly flopped around on him as he adjusted her position. “Alright, you just relax. Time to go see Petra and tell her the news from the south.”
Pausing to reach down and grab the Fae, Vince set off for Petra.
Everyone entered the fort and spread out, each going about their own business. Vince tucked Leila and Sam away into a room to recover.
Moving to find Petra, he ended up discovering that Fes was the first to actually locate her. Now the two were engaged in a conversation and more than likely discussing what happened down in Vegas.
Vince didn’t feel like butting in on that. Looking around he found a table off to one side of the open hallway.
Deciding, he sat down at that table, and pretended he wasn’t Vince.
All around him soldiers and the support went about their business. Watching quietly, he realized that more than twenty percent of everyone he saw had bandages on their bodies.
How much of the force is the walking wounded? Now add to that all the losses we suffered in the south.
We’re rapidly running out of manpower, which isn’t something that can easily be replaced.
A dark fear lurked in the back of his mind. Was this a mistake? Was this whole thing a mistake?
Couldn’t he have just as easily pushed back Verix from the convoy, and utilized another route? Couldn’t he have attached a large guard to them?
Shaking his head, Vince dispersed those fearful, paranoid worries. They would do him no good, since there was no going backwards at this point.
Fes hung her head down in front of Petra. Petra said something firmly, then smiled and laid a hand on Fes’ shoulder.
Petra said something again and Fes nodded her head, then walked off through another exit. Whatever Fes had been told had been enough to settle her and get her moving.
The antennae on Petra’s head twitched and pointed towards Vince, her head following a second later. Her eyes locked onto him and she gave him a bright warm smile.
Hiding from her is as pointless as hiding from Red.
No sooner than he finished that thought, Petra moved the second chair to one side and settled down at the table. She immediately reached across and wrapped her hands around his.
“This one is so pleased to see her master, her husband. She worried for him deeply. This one knows how her master reacts in situations, and was apparently right to worry,” Petra said, her voice colored with annoyance.
“Yet here I am. I’ll not apologize for it, because it was necessary. I don’t plan on risking myself anytime soon though,” Vince said, squeezing Petra’s hands with his own. “I take it Fes gave you the rundown?”
Petra sighed and pulled one of her hands back and pressed it to her forehead. “This one was indeed informed. She had hoped we would not suffer so many losses. Though the Undead are a surprise.”
“Going that badly here?” Vince asked.
“This one… this one is no longer sure she can win without paying a terrible price. Without an advantage in numbers, and the fact that our opponent is actually not a fool, we are at a standstill. It is a battle that is equal every time, and with no clear victor.
“Today was the first time there was a clear winner in days,” Petra said, her mouth turning down in a severe frown. “Both armies have the ability to heal wounded. Both have equivalent magical potential. We truly are evenly matched.”
Vince didn’t sigh, nor did he shake his head. He somehow managed to control his reactions, and instead patted the back of Petra’s hand and held onto it.
“You’ve done all you can. All we can do is keep fighting on. I’m sure Elysia will be sending more mercenaries soon as well. I know she was still recruiting even after we’d left,” Vince said reassuringly.
“Now, what can I do to help you, my general?”
Petra gave him a soft smile and ducked her head to him. “This one… I… thank you, dear,” Petra murmured. “Stay for a few more minutes, and then you would best be used to help heal our wounded. Our magical resources are very low right now.”
Vince nodded his head and squeezed Petra’s hand again, then said nothing. Simply enjoying sitting with her.
Eventually Petra stood up and led him out of the room they were in. Several turns and a hallway later and Vince found himself in the rear section of the wooden fort.
There, laid out on beds, blankets, and bedrolls, were the wounded of Yosemite.
Dryads, High Elves, Wood Elves, and Dark Elves were spread throughout. They were all working to stabilize, treat, and heal their compatriots.
“I…” Vince started, then swallowed heavily. He hadn’t expected there to be so many. Raising his voice, Vince took several steps forward. “Soldiers of Yosemite!”
All throughout heads turned towards him. Eyes lit up with recognition as they realized Vince was here again.
“I thank you for your service. I’m here to assist in whatever way I can. Could someone please lead me to whoever is in charge of leading the efforts here?”
A Dryad he had only a vague recollection of came and became his escort. Walking him around to power up Dryads and Elves alike who were working on patients who were worse off.
Vince did so, speaking with patients and healers as he went. Hours went by and there seemed to be no end of those who needed his magic.
The maimed, wounded, and beaten soldiers of Yosemite were all that he saw.
When night settled in, Vince finally had a chance to take a break. Sneaking out the back, he wandered off towards the rear wall. Crossing into an empty section with no roof overhead, Vince settled down onto the grass and looked upward.
The night sky was bright. Clear.
Empty and without the pain and suffering he’d seen in the faces of his people.
As they day had gone on, he’d gotten a better idea of what had happened.
They’d left Yosemite with roughly seven thousand people from Yosemite. A thousand of those being mercenaries.
A thousand being sent south and coming back with about two thousand Undead was a questionable trade.
The enemy, by what reports they could dig up, started with eight thousand. Their numerical advantage wasn’t enough to change anything.
And it was also why Petra had been willing to build a fort and settle down.
He’d also made the mistake of asking about casualties.
Six hundred deaths so far in the ugly grind between the strongholds.
Even Kitch had lost two people somehow.
The losses were piling up, and the enemy had lost as much if not just slightly more.
“Will I conquer Verix simply to rule over a city of corpses?” Vince wondered to no one, staring into the sky.
Once again his thoughts drifted towards wondering if this had been a good idea.
Or a terrible one.
A thump shook him as Ramona dropped from the sky to land in the grass next to him.
“Depends,” she said, her reptilian eyes glowing in the darkness. “If you can’t get them to surrender, it’s likely. Do you care?”
Blinking, Vince stared at the Dragonnewt for a second. “I do. What’s the point in conquering them, if it’s only to have an empty city? And in doing so, will I not throw my own people onto the sacrificial altar, so to speak? It’s starting to feel more and more like a pyrrhic victory.”
“A what?” Ramona asked. She squatted down and dragged her claws through the grass.
“Er. To win, but at such a cost that I might as well have lost. Like fighting for a pair of shoes, and losing your feet in the fight,” Vince said neutrally.
“Not all of us received an education,” hissed Ramona. “Some of us were simply left in the wild to fend for ourselves.”
“I said nothing about that. I only explained w
hat I meant.”
Ramona wrinkled her nose at him. “I understand your point then. Yes, I could see how winning Verix could actually end up being a loss. I’m not sure what other options there are though?”
“They could surrender, as you yourself suggested.”
“That’d require you doing something that would force them into that. Do you have any ideas?” Ramona asked, her clawed fingers slicing back and forth through the grass.
“I don’t. No. From everything I’ve been able to find out, we’re very evenly matched.”
“That leaves a truce on the table. But that only puts the problem off for another day. Leaving enemies behind is the quickest way to get a blade in the tail,” Ramona said, her tail swishing behind her as if to emphasize her point.
Vince lay down on the grass completely and spread himself out.
“And here we are again. Back at fighting a war that I’m truly worried about,” Vince admitted.
“What will you do then?”
“Nothing. Because for all I know, we could turn around tomorrow and have an absolutely stunning victory. Things happen in wars. They’re wars.”
“Hmph. Seems a bit lazy, but I can’t say I blame you. The general feeling is everyone is growing weary of the fighting. The dying. Every day a portion of them march out into no man’s land to fight. Sometimes twice in one day. There is no reprieve. I can’t imagine our enemy is faring any better though,” Ramona grumbled.
She’s not wrong. The people of Yosemite have trained for this. Trained for battle. They’re physically ready for it.
But actually putting themselves in the crucible of war, fighting every day, watching companions fall. They’ve never experienced it in this fashion.
This would be the forging that strengthens them, or shatters them, I suppose.
All we can do is hope we come out the other side stronger than we were before.
And mostly in one piece.
The morning came clear and bright. Across the field, the gate of the enemy fort opened. Out came a portion of their troops, seemingly content to continue the war in the same fashion.
Vince watched from the wall, unsure of how he felt about it.
They seemed willing to step outside of their fortification and to take the field.
