Conqueror

by Isaac Hooke

  “Can the basilisk turn these Eldritch to stone if it can’t see them?” Xaxia asked.

  “That’s a good question,” Malem replied. “Guess we’ll find out.”

  Garibaldi finished its search of the farm, and then Ophid marched through without issue. Malem and the others followed without encountering anything, and the remaining monsters pursued on drag a mile behind.

  And so the eagle moved from estate to estate, searching meticulously for the telltale green seams in reality that gave away the positions of any invisible Eldritch. There weren’t any such seams—it seemed going invisible was something the Eldritch did only when they attacked, or when running, because those Eldritch the eagle actually did spot were all in visible form.

  That made him wonder about the Eldritch who had attacked him. When the three fled, before they became invisible, their bodies emitted flashes of green light, but he observed nothing of the sort from the main attacker, who must have been invisible for a relatively long time. Or perhaps that Eldritch had transformed behind a tree in the nearby copse before approaching the party, and thus hid the glow of its transformation that way. But why not fire from afar, like the other Eldritch sentries had done in the forest against the airborne dragons? He suspected the attacker here had probably wanted to get a better look at them, first.

  Whenever the eagle discovered visible Eldritch, usually lurking on the rooftop of a farmhouse, and sometimes inside an outbuilding such as a barn, Malem promptly directed the bird to a different area until Garibaldi found an estate that was empty.

  In that manner Malem was able to find the holes in the Eldritch defenses, and lead his party, along with four of the most powerful monsters the world had ever seen, deep behind enemy lines. Okay, maybe they weren’t as powerful as dragons, but still, the ability to turn an opponent to stone with but a look had to count for something.

  As they crossed the outlying estates, he had the monsters move slowly, instructing them to make as little noise as possible; he also had them keep their bodies crouched close to the ground so that burned down houses and trees could help hide their profiles.

  Occasionally an Eldritch patrol came past. He usually didn’t sense them unless they were passing close to his position, which was why he always had the eagle circle overhead when it was done clearing a given estate. Thus, thanks to Garibaldi, he usually had ample warning of any patrols, and the team was able to hide. They dove behind the trees of a copse, the wall of an outbuilding, or the hollow of a stream—whatever features of the landscape availed themselves.

  The monsters, on the other hand, were too big to really hide, so they dropped where they stood, usually, hoping to blend in to the surrounding landscape.

  One time an Eldritch party came upon Ophid while the basilisk played dead. When they started poking and prodding the monster, he instructed Ophid to turn them all to stone. Ophid was able to solidify eight Eldritch with its first gaze, but two were resistant: mages, Malem guessed. Luckily Ophid caught those two by surprise: when they didn’t turn to stone, the basilisk swatted one with the talons of its great paw, and crunched down on the other. After swallowing the latter, it hurried across the grass to finish off the other mage, downing it in two bites.

  Well that was a nice snack, Ophid commented.

  “This is encouraging,” Malem said when he revealed what had just happened. “I’m hopeful that the rest of this mission will proceed as smoothly.”

  Ziatrice laughed. “Somehow, I doubt it. Nothing’s ever as easy as it seems. Especially considering Mauritania will be surrounded by her most elite units. Think back on the effort required to beat me, or even the Dwarf King Barrowfore, and you’ll get an idea of what to expect from Mauritania.”

  “Should be fun!” Xaxia commented.

  “Oh, I can’t wait,” Gwen said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

  Garibaldi sighted a ridge ahead, beyond the farms, and when Malem shared the view with the others, Weyanna commented: “I recognize that ridge. That’s Tarvan’s Vale. We’ll find Tartan nestled in the base of the valley beyond.”

  “So we’re almost there,” Rathamias said. “We’ve come all this way to die.”

  “Only you have, orak,” Gwen said. “The rest of us plan to live. We won’t sell our lives for cheap.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong, Gobling, I will fight,” Rathamias said. “My life won’t come cheap, either. I only wish my end would have come under better circumstances.”

  “Better circumstances?” Xaxia said. “You get to die in battle, if death comes. I thought all oraks hoped for such a noble demise?”

  “Oh, we do,” Rathamias said. “And such a death is honorable, yes, but I would prefer to die at the side of my brothers. You… women, are a poor substitute. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Gwen said. “In fact, I’d be more offended if you told me I was like your fellow oraks and that you were happy to die at my side.”

  “Oh, in that case,” Rathamias said. “I’m thrilled to fight with you, Gobling. You remind me of my brood brothers. You are a true orak at heart! Let us die together today!”

  “Asshole,” Gwen said.

  21

  As Malem and the others got closer to the vale, Garibaldi spotted the road once more, and the blockade the Eldritch had erected. It consisted of wagons the army had captured, piled into large structures. It was manned by a small group of Eldritch armed with strange trident-like weapons in one hand and nets that they dragged on the ground in the other. Like the others he had seen, they weren’t clothed in any way.

  “Is it just me, or do these Eldritch have no genitals?” Gwen commented when he shared the eagle’s vision.

  “If they do have them, they’re very small,” Malem replied.

  “I blame it on the pubic hair,” Abigail said in a rare moment of good humor since acquiring her magical wounds.

  “I bet you wish you could see what we do, huh Bandit?” Gwen taunted Xaxia.

  “Actually, no,” Xaxia said.

  Soon there was only one ravaged farm between the group and the ridge. However, that estate proved occupied by Eldritch, as was the adjacent. Before having Garibaldi explore further along the ridge, Malem decided to send the eagle ahead to scout: he needed to confirm they were in the right place, after all. And in truth, he wanted to get an idea of what awaited in the valley beyond.

  He fed the eagle’s vision to the women bound to him as the majestic bird crossed silently over the ridge.

  Below, he saw a city nestled in the heart of the valley. Tartan, the once mighty capital of Mulhadden. Ruled by King Goldenthall.

  The dark shapes encamped outside the city walls drew his attention immediately. The Eldritch with their trident weapons and nets. Big rhinoceros-like creatures of yellow and gold he’d never seen before. Other machines of war: trebuchets, siege towers, and battering rams. The profusion of tents and cooking fires between them, and the sigil flags marking the different army divisions.

  The walls themselves, once white and clean, were now marred by black blast craters. So far, it looked like the enemy hadn’t yet broken through.

  “The army is strangely quiet,” Weyanna commented. “It’s almost as if some sort of ceasefire has been enacted.”

  “If that’s true, then why are the walkways atop the walls empty?” Abigail asked. “Even in a ceasefire, defenders are going to keep their gaze upon the enemy.”

  “Unless the city has already fallen,” Ziatrice said. “And Mauritania sits upon the Tartan throne.”

  “Look, the main gate!” Gwen gasped.

  Garibaldi was just passing over the main entrance to the city. The gates were wide open.

  “So we’re too late,” Abigail said sadly. “Goldenthall was a great and noble man. He deserved better than this. He fought hard for his people.”

  “The same fate awaits all the allied kingdoms,” Ziatrice said. “Unless we stop Vorgon.” When she spoke again, it was for his mind alone. And once we have stopped him, we will rule this
world in his place.

  He resisted an eye roll. Yeah. And we’ll destroy all the cities in Vorgon’s place, right?

  Now you’re catching on.

  No thanks, he sent.

  The world could be yours, she pressed. If you’d only embrace your destiny.

  He decided not to encourage her, and kept his thoughts to himself.

  Garibaldi continued flying deeper across the city. It was relatively dead down there. Several of the buildings had taken damage, harboring caved roofs and walls; some of the structures were demolished entirely, their bricks fanning out across the cobblestone streets. No one peered from any of the windows. No citizens walked the streets. The only living things he saw were the patrols of Eldritch soldiers in the different avenues.

  The castle at the center of town was a marvel to behold, all white towers and crenellations, and similarly gird by its own inner wall, as well as a moat. The drawbridge was lowered, and the gates to the castle were wide open.

  “The wall shows no signs of damage,” Malem commented. “Nor do any parts of the castle itself.”

  “It seems the great and noble Goldenthall surrendered without a fight,” Ziatrice agreed. “He had no army. What little militiamen he possessed obviously offered only token resistance in the streets. As soon as the enemy got too close to the castle walls, he backed down and surrendered the keys to his city, and the entire kingdom.”

  “He wouldn’t do that,” Abigail said. “I refuse to believe it! He would fight.”

  “The evidence speaks for itself,” Ziatrice said. “There isn’t a scratch on the castle, or its walls.”

  “I—” But Abigail couldn’t finish. She must have known Ziatrice was right. The evidence pointed to a quick surrender on the part of the king. And in all honesty, if Malem had been the ruler of Tartan, he might have made the same decision, especially if he didn’t have an army.

  “It would have been useless for Rashan to come here with his troops,” Weyanna said softly. “He would have returned to find the city already conquered. The Alliance broken, for nothing.”

  Garibaldi passed above the inner courtyard, where a series of tents had been raised. They were of similar design to the tents outside the city, looking like big puffy marshmallows.

  “There,” Malem said. “Those tents look like some sort of mobile command center.”

  A steady stream of Eldritch traveled back and forth between the tents and the castle. At first Malem didn’t know what they were doing, until he saw the goblets, candlesticks and other valuables the creatures were carrying from the castle.

  “There goes all my loot,” Xaxia said rather dourly.

  “See that one tent, bigger than all the others?” Malem said. “That has to be Mauritania’s.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Ziatrice said. “When I set up camp with my army, I’d often place a decoy tent next to my own. It was always bigger, and statelier. But in truth, at this point, considering the city is hers, she’s much more likely to be staying in the castle. I would.”

  He nodded, and rubbed his chin. “Does this queen have any identifying markers? A staff she holds? A crown she wears? Maybe a birthmark of some kind?”

  “She wears a crown, yes,” Ziatrice told him. “And carries a scepter. But that’s not the only way she stands out from her army: you’ll know her immediately, because she looks more human than the rest of them. Her legs are ordinary, for example, and don’t bend backward like a goat’s, and her feet aren’t cloven. I’m uncertain if such sexual dimorphism is prevalent among all Eldritch females, or only her, considering I’ve never seen another female among them: her entire army is composed of males”

  He nodded slowly. “When we’re closer, I’ll Break one of the castle’s local animals for some paws-on-the-ground scouting. Then we’ll go from there. If…”

  His voice trailed off as Garibaldi continued forward, because he saw a huge blue dragon perched high up on one of the castle’s rooftops. It seemed to be sleeping.

  “The scale seems wrong on that one,” he said. “Based on the size of the tents and surrounding trees, it looks at least three times as big as you, Abigail, in your dragon form. That can’t be right.”

  “No, it’s right,” Abigail said. “Mauritania has Nemertes with her.”

  “Who?”

  “The great Blue Dragon,” Weyanna said. “Ancient as she is terrible. Extremely powerful, and extremely evil. She sleeps in the day, and is active only at night. Some say Nemertes is the oldest dragon in existence. Whatever the case, that creature has powers of magic unlike any other dragon this world has ever seen. While most dragons grow weaker in power and magic as they age, Nemertes has only grown stronger with each passing century.”

  “What kind of magic are we talking about?” Malem said. “Dark?”

  “No,” Weyanna said. “Her magic was once based solely upon ice, like most blues, but as she aged, she developed new, more lethal magics, these based upon light.”

  “But light magic is associated with all that is good in the world,” Malem said. “Healing. Buffs for protection, to enhance speed and strength, etc.”

  “Yes, but she perverts that energy to her own ends,” Weyanna said. “Any good in her died long ago, when the humans slew her mate Metiacus. She uses her healing powers to kill now. And she strikes with debuffs to weaken her enemies.”

  “How can healing kill?” Xaxia asked.

  “By healing wounds that don’t exist,” Weyanna told her. “When done with enough power, the affected area will collapse in upon itself. Nemertes uses it to cause her enemies to implode. Your dragon scale armor will protect you from most of her attacks, as long as you don’t let them hit your exposed faces. Also, beware: some dragons begin to exude the characteristics of their prey if they feed upon them enough. Her favorite food is dhaarkan spiders. Her body has changed subtly over the centuries to match that prey, developing spinnerets in the tip of her tail, and two fangs that protrude from her jaws, allowing her to spit venom in addition to breathing ice.”

  “That dragon is going to make things difficult,” Malem said.

  “Maybe you should have sex with it,” Gwen commented.

  “Funny,” he told her.

  She shrugged. “Why not? You have sex with everything else.”

  He decided to ignore the comment.

  “So what do we do then?” Gwen asked. “Turn back?”

  “No,” Malem said. “We do what we came here to do.”

  “But if the city has already fallen, what’s the point of continuing?” Gwen said. “Facing an army, and a dragon like that… General Rashan won’t come back here, not now. He has no reason to.”

  “You forget, our mission is to subjugate Mauritania,” Malem said. “And to take control of her army, preventing it from razing other cities in these lands, so that the armies of the Alliance remain upon the front lines.”

  He wasn’t doing it for selfless reasons, of course. He was looking forward to the increase in power that would come with Breaking another Black Sword.

  Ziatrice glanced at him, perhaps sensing the thirst for glory emanating from his energy bundle, because she sent him: Yes. Take Mauritania, and then you will become the ruler of Tartan, and all Mulhadden. The populace will bow before us.

  Except we don’t even know if there is a populace anymore, Malem told her. Mauritania may have summarily executed them all.

  I don’t think so, the night elf sent. Where’s the fun in being a ruler if you have no one to rule?

  Not everyone thinks the same way as you do, Ziatrice.

  Even if no one lives in the city, it doesn’t matter, the night elf pressed. Once you’ve Broken her, take her army and march east. Conquer other vulnerable cities, amassing more kingdoms. Institute a draft, and use the treasuries under your control to hire mercenaries to supplement and train your soldiers. Meanwhile, let Vorgon and the Alliance weaken each other. When we’ve grown strong enough, we’ll turn back and obliterate whoever remains, be it Vorgon or Gen
eral Rashan. And then the world will be ours.

  He didn’t answer her.

  He recalled Garibaldi, and the eagle returned to the ridge outside Tartan’s Vale, circling above the farm that was just in front of Malem. He had the bird head east, to continue searching along the edges of that ridge for empty estates, and Garibaldi finally found one—four farms to his right.

  The eagle proceeded inward to check the adjacent farms, working its way backward until it had a string of empty estates that led to the ridge from Malem’s current position. The path the eagle found required Malem and the others to backtrack a few farms, and as usual he sent Ophid in first to confirm the estates where indeed clear.

  When they finally reached the farm next to the ridge, they sheltered their horses inside the ruins of a barn, while the monsters ducked behind other buildings further along the perimeter. There was a pair of grain silos on the eastern edge, and that was the perfect spot for Hansel and Eddy to take cover. The two basilisks meanwhile deployed separately along the western and southern edges of the estate, where a guesthouse and a toolshed provided cover.

  “I don’t suppose we can hold off doing anything until that Darkness of yours comes again?” Xaxia said inside the barn. “Use it to give us an unfair advantage?”

  “I don’t sense its coming,” Malem said. “We could wait, yes, but every hour we spend lurking here is another hour we might be discovered. And that’s another hour Abigail and Weyanna come closer to death from their grievous wounds. We have to attack.”

  “You’re assuming Mauritania can save them…” Xaxia said.

  “I am,” he agreed.

  “You’re also assuming you’ll be able to Break her,” the Bandit told him.

  “I—” he bowed his head. “Even if I can’t, even if we have to kill her, we’ll find a way to get back to the front line in time to save them. We’ll find a way to get them to a Metal healer.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Xaxia said. “I’ve grown rather fond of those dragons. And I’d hate to lose them.”