“They aren’t that close yet. I wish you would have slain Tolin.”
“Well, ya can’t have everything, lady.”
“The trooper also said he was afraid, for the general seemed at odds with the desires of his dark Lord Nosmada.”
“That so?”
“Not as far as turning his allegiance against him, but having plans on his mind other than just the acquisition of weapons.”
Gorias pondered this. “What else did he say?”
Rhan looked at the empty whorehouse, wrinkled her nose. “He said his general used a series of harlots for a sacrifice. This act disturbed him and his men.”
“They ought to be used to Tolin’s disturbing acts by now,” he said, noting the sun in its climb up the sky was barely a handbreadth from the earth. He gazed at the door to the house and thought of Wilkens again. With a heavy sigh he banished her from his mind.
Rhan nodded. “I gamble they are, sir. But it is what else the trooper spoke of that bothers me.”
Gorias observed the small crowd and how they listened with intensity. “You don’t seem to care if these guys get drunk and tell how you were here at a house of dead victory girls talking with me, though.”
“It is too late in the day for niceties,” she said. “He said if the war with the Northern force does not yield enough blood for Nosmada’s purpose, Tolin’s army is supposed to liquidate this fair city. I think the trooper might have been here to plant a seed of fear so many would flee.”
Gorias nodded. “What of your fine mercenaries there, sister, to protect you? These fellas make you feel warm at night or no?”
She frowned.
“Apparently not, eh?”
“We have an awesome number of men here, both hired and of our own. Many common folks have taken up arms and will defend the city if need be. I will not have the populace of the city slaughtered and bled like…”
“Like so many whores?” Maddox said.
Lira’s face trembled. “We all know the fairy tales about Nosmada. What he desires and why is a matter of various disputes. You have been around longer than any of us, La Gaul. If anyone has studied or could understand his agenda or rationale, it might be you.”
Gorias eyed the gathering dark clouds. “What of it? What are you getting at?”
“I have no doubt that the army of Nosmada will reach the Foundry of Syn and achieve better arms. That is a given. I also have no doubt the Northern forces will crash right into them with grand furor. Tolin’s men will fend off this assault, even if the story about the son of the old barbarian Brock leading them is true. There will be blood for the beast. I see Tolin attacking our position behind the walls of the city.”
“Why is that?”
“They are bringing artillery pieces and siege engines.”
Gorias looked at his grandson and then at Kayla. “What is it you want out of me?”
“Though we have leaders of our small forces, there is no way the rabble of the mercs will follow them in any organized battle. The militia, well, will they really fight in the most desperate of cases?”
Gorias shook his head. “Oh, sister…”
“You must lead us, La Gaul. These men would follow you into Hell itself!”
“Sounds like it’s where we would be headed, too. I’m a bit past that stage in my life. I’m no miracle worker, either. There’d be no time to train them to fight like an army.”
“True,” she conceded. “But they would fight in an assault behind you. They would go bravely into battle because of you.”
Thunder rolled as the morning light faded away.
“There’s no time,” Gorias lamented. “And I really don’t have it in me to lead such an attack, not even past Hell’s waiting room. I’d get to die first for your chief up in his tower. That would be swell of me, huh?”
“The great Gorias La Gaul? Slayer of dragons, Nephilums, and deflowerer of maidens? You have no taste for war with simple humans again? Do you know what your presence on the battlefield would do to Tolin’s army? If even a fraction of them would desert—”
“I think there’s a greater evil beyond, near to the army of the North. A wickedness superior to Tolin’s army. If what I think has happened has really occurred, you will have wished Carlato Wyss were in his old flesh.”
“We have heard tales of a dragon there, heard it call out. You can slay a dragon another day. It will be no time before they will be at the foundry. Our slim hope of deliverance will grow with your presence.”
“I’m not afraid, sister,” he said. “We all have to die sometime. I’ve gone on far too long. The bards and hangers on want to be a part of my life and, Hell, even these men around you yearn to be a part of my death. I think they could find better work than that. If God shrugs his shoulders, urinates on the world, I’ll be forgotten forever. That said, I think it’s a damned shame so many forces are around here and cannot be coordinated to fight together.”
She looked at him, confused.
“I need to go to the apex of the castle and view everything,” he said. “That being done, I’ll tell you my plans.”
Lightning struck but Lira didn’t move. “I think you better hurry.”
As the rain started to fall, Gorias turned his craggy face to it and let it strike his beard. “On the contrary. I think a good rain may be just what we need.”
*****
Zillian used a sturdy wooden cane to walk the long cavernous corridors in the citadel. Soon, the wood floor would vanish when the real tunnels in the rock began as she drew closer to the redemption place of Nosmada.
The elderly wizard showed a quantity of dread as she approached his inner dwelling. Lannon stood outside this place, giving her a minor shock. She guessed Nosmada had taken the soldier into his ultimate confidence and stationed him there. Zillian was wise enough not to intrude on him. Sitting down on a carved outcropping, she caught her breath.
Stone ground on stone as Nosmada shoved the door open to his inner sanctum. The chittering sound behind him ran steady, never ceasing. His long face didn’t show anger as he beheld the old woman. His look was one of curiosity, if anything at all. Nosmada looked at Lannon, waiting for him in case he needed aide. This time, the dark Lord walked evenly as he left the Place of Redemption.
“Will it be enough?” Zillian asked as she heard the high pitched screeches from the chamber. She watched Lannon swallow and look back into the chamber as the door stayed open. The young man sweated, but kept his face stern.
“In time, we shall see,” Nosmada said. “It has to be. I take it all on faith.”
Lannon lowered his head at last, unable to fake strength over his revulsion any longer.
The towering lord closed the seal and patted Lannon on his shoulder. “What is it, young man? The presence of thousands of undead leeches, clinging to my inner walls like so many bats bothers you?”
“No, sir. It is that you can keep them there, under your power.”
Nosmada laughed heartily and then regarded Zillian. “What is it?”
“An entire village, lost. The Draco-Lich arises, a winged predator still not whole. It has taken the lives of so many, but not in the way Tolin wanted.”
Nosmada knelt. “What is it you say, dear?”
“The general invoked the Draco-Lich after it arose. He thought it would smite the barbarian army from Zenghaus. In my caldron, I have seen the army moves nightly and gravitates closer to Khabnur. The Draco-Lich took the first mass of lives it saw, not the barbarian army. The Lich is no fool. The barbarians would have fought back with all of their might. They always do.”
“Damn him.” Nosmada snarled, his placid demeanor evaporating.
Fear shredded Zillian’s voice. “It’s so angry, my Lord. The winged marauder has arisen from the dead and it’s so hungry. A sprawling monster with a body like something out of a n
ightmare. It has fulfilled the frightened dreams of the folk of that village!”
“Calm yourself.”
She persisted. “After so many years of suffocation under the sands by Larak, the blue dragon has arisen. Humanity will run like scuttling rats before his pitiless gaze and hungry maw!”
Nosmada gripped her shoulders, drew back his left hand to strike her, yet hesitated. Truly, a blow from him would kill her. He relaxed and tried to make her do the same.
Terror rippled through her body. Some words came out, but so hysterical burned her frenzy they couldn’t be discerned. “You seek a vast sacrifice, my Lord,” she said, calmly now. “I fear the earth is now in line for the Draco-Lich. It will seek out a sacrifice for the Elder Gods—and we are it!”
Above them, they felt the earth quake ever so slightly. After the words she spoke, Lannon’s expression changed to one of confusion bordering on fear.
Nosmada dismissed this. “It’s just thunder, so be at ease. There’s a storm coming.”
“I think there is,” Lannon agreed.
*****
Walking amongst his lines of wagons, General Tolin cursed the falling rain. All of his troopers were sheltered under expansive tents, while Tolin stalked the tarp-covered lines of war chariots. His anger boiled hot.
“Damned hairy fools from the Hinterlands probably don’t even notice the rain,” he said, swearing colorfully again. “It won’t slow their gargantuan mounts much.”
Captain Karter walked with his leader, directing him to come inside the officer’s tent. “I think it may clear soon, sir.”
“Your eyes do not lie well, Karter. Give it up,” Tolin snapped back as he motioned for an infantryman to pour him a drink.
Karter peeked out the large flap of the tent. If anything, it rained harder.
“To be so close with a well trained force and to be held up by water from the damned sky,” Tolin rumbled as he drank the contents of the cup in a single long shot. “Of all the conflicts, wars, and simple border skirmishes I have been in, washed out roads are the worst enemy of any warrior.”
Tubal spoke up, “This rain’ll slow da’ barbarians as well, sir. All of their bluster can’t navigate heavy mud.”
“Will it? We shall see.”
A young soldier whispered to another loud enough for them to hear. “I heard, as a lad, that an old hag once purchased a pouch full of good weather. They had to skin a virgin for this one shaman and…” His voice trailed off when he realized the general watched him. Both young men stood at attention, saying no more.
Tolin was about to speak, then gave them a dismissive look. He spoke to Tubal without looking at him. “The pickets say the barbarian army is the largest force they have ever seen?”
“Yes sir.”
“Bah, they are but savages. They unite only under the banner of hating everyone else, even if this Brock could really be leading them. He is no La Gaul, just the barbarian with the loudest voice, strongest arms, and longest manhood. The trouble is, this time, it’s me they despise. We will see who survives the fight between our superior arms and training. What do they have but ferocious resolve and wiliness?”
Karter declared, “They shall fall under your leadership, sir.”
The rain came down in sheets. Tolin barely contained his rage, knowing that if this deluge kept up the advance of his wagons to the Foundry of Syn would be delayed.
“Would that I had a mace large enough to bludgeon them all into the accursed ground--Khabnur, the barbarians, all of them.” He looked north and grinned. “Perhaps if my blood sees it my way, I shall have just such a tool, eh?”
“Yes, sir,” Karter replied. “In the end, my loyalty is always to you, sir.”
The general understood Karter was his and appreciated his words. His anger at the elements could not be quelled, though. “Damn,” was the last word he uttered at the rain before closing his eyes and turning his face toward the top of the tent.
CHAPTER XIV
Armies and the Village
*
From the apex of the temple, where the majestic terrace made of bronze opened up to view the city of Khabnur, Gorias raised his scope. Kayla, Maddox, and Tammas pointed at the surrounding territories, easily viewable in the storm-dimmed day. The glass wasn’t necessary to outline this area, yet he still used it for a closer look. Though a tempest raged, they still looked on, the wooden canopy offering good cover. In a few minutes, the rain lessened.
Maddox drew near to his grandfather. “What are we looking at here?”
“Well, let’s think of this entire area as a huge wheel, all right? The City of Khabnur is the center of the wheel where all the spokes go around.” He paused to wipe rain from his face. “Over there to the south-west, anyone can see the fires from the army of Nosmada. You can see the tents all lined up just so. They even have extra wagons. Fascinating.”
Kayla nodded as she pulled her hood close. “They’re in divisions and ranks. They may as well be labeled.”
Gorias agreed with a grunt. “Yeah, there they all are for ya to see. There’re great amounts of infantry, pike-men, archers, chariots, cavalry, even spots for artillery men and whatnot. I’m sure their ranks of tents house greener troops and veterans by rank and experience.” He pointed to the east at the billowing smoke and belching flames from the factory. “Doesn’t look so far from each other up here, eh?”
“Not really, sir,” Tammas said. “Terrifying, in a way, to think such machinations of war are right at our feet, is it not?”
“It makes one think. All of them know their place and function, be it auxiliaries full of archers or slingers, or companies of engineers to aid in the machines of war. They are right on our ass.”
“Those wagons, sir, confuse me. If those tiny boxes so far away are indeed wagons. Why are they empty? Waiting for supplies?”
Gorias sighed. “Or booty from Khabnur. Look there to the east. Over there are the bogs of Cielo by the canyon of Benedikt.”
Kayla pointed over to the northwestern glow. “What is that? The army of the barbarians?”
Gorias nodded. “I wager so. Hell, one can almost smell them on the wind the closer they get. Being subtle isn’t what they’re known for. Requiring blood for revenge and feuding, yeah, that’s a barbarian for you.”
“How many are there?”
“Thousands, I bet. I cannot believe they aren’t the prime worry of ol’ Lira Rhan. They have little to lose by destroying a carelessly laid out city like this. Then again, they have no siege materials, unless they plan to encircle ya and let ya all starve.”
Maddox spat out rain. “Why are the fires in the northwest barbarians camps so large and spaced out?”
“They aren’t orderly troops like those following Tolin,” Gorias said. “They’re barely clothed, I wager. Barbarians through and through, even letting their blazing fires smolder in the rain. They don’t care if anyone sees them.”
“Why so many fires?” Kayla asked.
“They dance, drink, and copulate around them in a real frenzy. It’s primal and a good time if ya have a nice partner to attend with and are young enough to survive it.”
She turned her head, peered out of the canopy and said, “What’s that sound from over there?”
“Trumpeting.”
Tammas frowned. “That is no instrument.”
Gorias shot back, “I never said it was. The savages of the North don’t ride horses.”
The young ones all exchanged glances. Maddox was the first to offer, “Elephants?”
“Sort of,” Gorias answered, nostrils flaring at the scent on the wind.
Kayla’s brow furrowed as she looked to the north. “But where’s the Oliverian village in all this darkness? I should be able to see it. It lies to the north of Khabnur and I see no lights from it.”
Gorias trained his vi
ewer toward this locale. “The heavy rains earlier may have put out their fires or they have evacuated due to the coming conflict. It’s day time so I doubt they would have need of a fire like the troops or savages do.”
Kayla wore a worried frown. “Oliverian is a retirement village. Only the elderly live there with a few guardians.”
The thunder rolled and the clouds billowed over them. “Beyond Oliverian in the realm of Dundayin where the Cult of the Dragon is quartered’ Gorias said. “If the Draco-Lich indeed has arisen…”
“What?” Tammas demanded.
“Maybe,” Gorias said, rain running from his soaked beard, “we need to go see the leader of the barbarians. This ain’t the finest idea, but it may be a shot to spare the city. Kayla, you ought to stay here.”
“Why?”
He raised an eyebrow. “They are barbarians, dear, an army of them. Respect for female integrity is non-existent. Half the reason Lira Rhan keeps the mercs is so if the barbarian horde survives the war with Tolin the savages won’t rape her women and burn Khabnur. No amount of threats of female bravado can save ya and a song by a bard about Gorias La Gaul can’t help, either.”
“Leave me in Oliverian then,” she requested. “There are a few oldsters I know there from my volunteer days.”
“Yeah?” Tammas said.
Kayla nodded. “There was an aged lady there with a scarlet spider tattooed on her back. Rumor had it she retired from being a famed sorceress centuries ago. She used to tell me tales.”
“About what?” asked Tammas as Gorias and Maddox rolled their eyes to the dark heavens.
Kayla stared up at Gorias and no more words were required.
Gorias turned and spread out both arms out as if to embrace the territory. “Look at this set up? It’ll be a grand slaughter if Tolin gets properly armed. Hell, him armed as he presently stands will be a crap sandwich for all.”
“But isn’t he coming to take the arms away, back to Nosmada for some greater attack?” Tammas said.
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