But Robbie didn’t appear to have any intentions of leaving. His face flushed red, and he sucked his bleeding knuckles while wearing an expression more appropriate for an animal than a man.
“You think you’re tough, bitch?” he asked her. “You see any around to help you? Any to save you? Take off your dress and maybe I’ll play nice.”
“What, you don’t want it in my mouth first, or are you afraid I’ll bite that little nub right off?”
He swung his fist, but this time she was ready. She ducked, the attack passing over her head, and then she had her dagger drawn and slashing. Robbie howled as she sliced the tendon in the back of his ankle, just above the heel. Tessanna rammed her weight against his knee, and his wounded leg lacked the strength to stand. As he fell she leapt atop him, her dagger stabbing into his arm. He struggled, but she rode him unbothered by his flailing. Again she cut, this time the tendons by his elbow.
“Shush now,” Tessanna whispered, pressing her free hand against his mouth. The pain in his arms and legs was too great to struggle, so he relaxed and listened. “I warned you, didn’t I? Now close your eyes. I promise to be nice and let you go, but you need to close your eyes. If you don’t, you’ll watch as I cut your other foot. I know it hurts, I can see you crying because of it. Imagine both your legs feeling like that. Imagine trying to march along. You think the war demons will let you stay behind? What do you think they’ll do? Target practice for the archers, maybe?”
“No, please,” he whimpered against her palm.
“Then close your damn eyes.”
He did as he was told. Slowly she inched down his body, the dagger trailing against the fabric of his shirt, then his pants. It circled against his knee, then traveled upward. He flinched, and she laughed when he did.
“I did promise…”
In went the dagger, piercing his scrotum. He screamed and thrashed, but the pain was too great, consciousness fading fast. The dagger cut and cut…
When Velixar returned, he found Robbie splayed out by the fire, his lower body a disgusting smear of blood and gore. Tessanna sat on her haunches, licking the blade.
“I feel normal,” she said, giggling. Velixar stood there, unable to react. He cared nothing for the man, but he’d promised her nightly torture. It wasn’t much torture if she was the one with the blade.
“Perhaps it isn’t rapes you need at night,” he said. “Would you prefer a warm body to cut into, if your own no longer pleases you?”
In answer, she viciously slashed her wrist and bled it out onto the fire.
“You aren’t fixing me,” she said. “You aren’t changing me. I’m still the same. I’m still me, the many pieces. You just broke me again. Send more men. I won’t need the dagger. I’m a wild animal, wild and deadly.”
She was laughing, seemingly delirious with joy. Whatever had stopped her from flitting between her selves, kept her sad and serious and tortured, had vanished. The blood dripped down, and she watched it oblivious to Velixar’s presence. He took the dagger from her limp hand.
“Your magic,” he said, suddenly hoping.
“Still gone,” she whispered. “Mommy’s still abandoned me. If you want a goddess as your queen, you won’t ever get it. You’ll only have me, broken, mad little me. If I’ll have you. If Qurrah won’t have me.”
The necromancer felt his anger kindle at his former pupil’s name.
“Tomorrow we will show Angelport the true power of the war god,” he said. “And you can see what fate awaits Qurrah and his friends. Maybe then you’ll realize how hopeless his life is.”
He whispered words of magic, and Robbie’s body stood, turned, and joined the ranks of the undead legion outside the camp. Thulos had given him specific orders to carry out, and while they were on the odd side, he had a guess as to what the war god planned. Strangely unnerved by Tessanna’s dramatic shift, he left her alone, deciding he needed an extra hour of prayers to prepare for the coming siege.
Tessanna watched him go, wishing he hadn’t take her dagger. Her smile faded, and with sudden vigor she wiped at the blood on her hands and face. It had been an act. The cutting, the laughing, the mad look in her eyes: all an act. She still felt broken, but strangely held together, bound by a force that frightened her and flooded her sleep with nightmares. But she’d also known Velixar’s desires, and what he desired was the old Tessanna, the wild goddess who feasted on blood and lived like an animal. She’d given him a taste, all the while wondering what had happened to that older self.
Hopefully it’d be enough. She’d faked with many men before, and if she could fake well enough with Velixar, perhaps he’d keep away the men. She didn’t need to be his queen; she wouldn’t give him what he wanted just yet. She’d hint at it. Make him think the wild goddess was reemerging.
Tired and alone, she let out a sigh of relief and then bandaged her cut wrist with a ripped piece of her dress. For some reason, its pain was deep, an ache strangely comforting in its normality and lack of excitement.
Tessanna awoke to the sound of trumpets and shouting. She stood, wincing at the pain in her wrist. She felt a tingle in the back of her head, an assurance of something wrong or odd. When she removed the wrapping on her hand, she realized what it was. Her wrist was red, the cut swollen and angry. A thin line of black marked where the blood had dried. Never before had a cut lasted so long. She’d always healed quickly, no doubt because of Celestia’s power within her…
She choked back a sob. Did everything about her have to vanish? Every unique piece of her fade away, rejected from her mortal form?
“We march in a few minutes,” Velixar said, appearing from the chaotic mess of soldiers around them.
“I can see that,” Tessanna said. Her somber tone must have alerted him, because his red eyes narrowed.
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, lowering her hand and shaking her head to fling her hair across her face. As if hiding, she spoke like a child. “Must we go? I’ll be scared.”
Velixar chuckled. The sound sickened her stomach.
“We must. Now come.”
He took her hand. It was cold, rough. She thought she’d vomit but held it down.
When they’d camped, Angelport had glittered in the far distance, just a twinkling of torches and patrols. No doubt they’d seen their camp as well, which is why Thulos had ordered them to build not one fire but two for every group. Tessanna expected the demons to fly in their tight formations to show off their numbers, but instead they marched along the ground, behind both the undead soldiers and men of Felwood. Only Thulos stayed at the front, issuing orders and urging them onward.
“Why do they walk?” she asked, hoping her tone was the right quality of curiosity and boredom.
“Thulos figures they’ve heard rumors of winged men,” Velixar said. “Perhaps some there have even seen a few and lived. But if we delay revealing their presence, any defenses they’ve made in preparation for them might slacken or even be abandoned.”
“We’re to kill them all?” she asked. When he glanced at her, she giggled to hide her original unease.
“One strong display of power should be enough to convince the rest to surrender,” Velixar said. “I wonder, though, why you might care either way.”
“If you kill them all, where will I get my servants?”
“Servants?”
She batted her eyelashes at him.
“A true queen should have servants. Don’t you agree?”
Karak’s prophet laughed. “You’re right. Perhaps we can find a servant girl or two, someone to clean and cook.”
The morning passed, and they came closer and closer to Angelport. Tessanna looked over the defenses, praying they would hold. She didn’t want to see another massacre. Even more, she didn’t want to listen to the horrific chants as thousands more knelt and swore their lives to Karak. From what she saw, the defenders had a chance. They’d built several walls, concentric circles of wood and stone. Th
e outermost wall stretched a great distance into the water, and all across the ocean waited an awesome amount of ships.
“Walls and water,” Velixar said, catching her staring at the city. “They hope to stop a god’s army with walls, water, and pathetic ships of wood. So foolish.”
“They don’t know any better,” she said, feeling out of breath. Though Velixar had eyed her eating habits more carefully, she still had not regained enough weight. The hours of walking drained her, left her feeling empty. Velixar’s constant presence didn’t help, either. “But can you blame them for the defense? You seemed pleased with Veldaren’s struggle.”
“I had waited centuries to watch that city burn,” Karak’s prophet said. “Forgive me for wishing to enjoy the bloodshed. Angelport, though, is nothing more than a distraction. Thulos wants more soldiers, and he doesn’t want an enemy at his back. I’d be happy to burn it down from afar before moving on.”
The final mile was perfectly flat, the ground unsteady beneath their feet. Many times soldiers stepped onto what they thought was grass only to twist their ankles in a sudden dirt hole. Once Tessanna nearly tripped, but Velixar kept her steady. His arms wrapped around her waist, and she felt his thin, bony body against hers. She trembled, but not in the way Velixar surely thought she did.
“Soon,” he whispered.
“Qurrah,” she whispered back. “Not until he is gone forever.”
A fire smoldered in his dead eyes.
“Soon,” he said, and his ever-changing face grinned.
Architects had built the outermost wall thicker than the others, though not as tall. It’d been designed for many men to stand comfortably atop it, so Thulos led his army toward the imposing sight of several thousand archers standing ready. Velixar hurried her to the front so they might march beside him. As the god towered over everyone, he drew his sword and held it high so the sunlight might glint off it. His army halted.
“No doubt any army of this world would crumble against those walls,” Thulos said as the two of them neared. “Yet to us it will fall in a single day. Keep everyone outside of arrow range. Prophet, are you ready to do your part?”
Velixar released Tessanna’s hand and nodded. He closed his eyes, and with words of magic pouring from his tongue, he lifted his arms to the heavens and summoned all of Karak’s power.
“Shadows!” he cried in a vile tongue Tessanna recognized as if from a dream life. The shadows before the outermost wall darkened to a black so pure it reminded her of the night sky, except with all the stars torn away. The darkness crawled up the wall, higher, higher, until it enveloped the defenders. Like a flood it poured into the streets, dousing torches and burying men. It did no harm, Tessanna recognized the spell well enough to know that, but the men within were certainly helpless and terrified.
“Let them wail about in their fear,” Thulos said. A war demon waited beside him, ready to carry out his order to attack. Behind the wall of undead, his winged troops readied their weapons. Arrows fired in chaotic volleys toward them, as if the defenders believed an assault on the walls had already begun. The shadows remained, and slowly the arrows became only a trickle.
“Send your undead,” Thulos ordered.
Velixar nodded, the changing of his features an imperceptible crawl. Tessanna knew the shadow spell weighed on him. Controlling the legion of undead would be no easy task. Whole body trembling, Velixar gave his orders. The undead broke into two lines, curling to either side of the city. Without sight, the archers didn’t know of their approach and could not annihilate them like they should have. It wasn’t until they were close enough to be heard that the archers attacked. Velixar winced as hundreds of his undead fell, their bodies pierced by many arrows.
But thousands remained, and one by one they plunged into the water.
“The boats,” Tessanna said, daring to interrupt Velixar’s concentration.
“Will see nothing,” Thulos said, answering for him. “You were too busy…entertaining the men of this camp to know. I have made every one of them ingest stones on the march here. They will sink in the water, hidden and protected.”
“You hope to assault the men whilst they are unaware,” she said.
“Do not pretend to guess,” he told her. “You are a child watching a master play a game you know nothing of. Enjoy the massacre, but in your place as an onlooker, not an equal.”
She bit her tongue. If Velixar was upset at her reprimand, he didn’t show it.
“The archers are focused on the undead,” Thulos said to his demon lieutenant at his side. “Crush them.”
They took to the air in a violent explosion of wind and feathers. They bunched into formations with expert speed, then flew straight for the front gate.
“Now,” Thulos whispered.
Velixar lowered his arms. The shadows descended with them, just enough so that the archers could see the approach of the demons. Then the darkness rose again, and Tessanna could only imagine the archers’ terror. Thousands of arrows sailed through the air, a desperate, blind defense against the attack.
Except the demons had broken to either side the moment the shadows returned. The arrows landed harmlessly in the grass while the two groups swung wide, gathered, and then swooped in perfect synchronization. They swung their glaives low, hurled their spears ahead of them. Tessanna watched them dip into the shadows, slicing and stabbing as they finally met above the gate. Not even needing a second pass, they curled back and returned to Thulos, who saluted them with his sword.
“Lower the shadow,” he said.
Velixar opened his eyes, and the spell faded, blown away as if it were suddenly a dark mist.
Only hundreds remained of the original thousand, lucky survivors of a brutal massacre. They readied their bows, and to Velixar’s disbelief, fired arrows toward the army as if to say they were not cowed.
“Most impressive,” Thulos said. “They will prove useful to me after their surrender. Do you remember your cues, prophet?”
“I do,” said Velixar.
Thulos approached the city alone, not bothering to stop even when he came within range of bowshot. He held his sword out to the side, as if ready to swing at any moment.
“Warriors of Angelport!” he said, and his voice carried for miles by the same magic he had used at Felwood. “You desire a fight, and in that you are commendable. I salute you, true men! But you have seen what we can do. You know the powers we possess. This is not your war. We come not to destroy, but to save. I want fighters, honorable destroyers of worlds to swear allegiance.”
He glanced at Velixar, who nodded.
“Perhaps you think to flee to your boats,” the god continued. “That is where your might has always been. But look to them now. Listen for their screams. Watch for their fire. You have no power, not against me, not against your god!”
Tessanna’s mouth opened as one by one the ships began to list or ram one another. Sails tore, and others fled out to the ocean.
“What is going on?” she asked.
“They waited below,” Velixar said. He seemed better now the shadow spell was gone, but still he spoke slowly, as if greatly distracted. “I had them tear out their innards so they might float back to the top.”
Tessanna shivered, imagining the many rotting corpses floating up like monsters from the deep, crawling up the boats, their mouths flooded with water, their stomachs and chests ripped open.
“Those of you on the walls, step down and join me!” Thulos continued. “Those who wait further in, those of you with sword and axe, accept my offer. The lords of Angelport hold no power in this new world. This is a land of gods.”
Several archers loosed their arrows, but only one was remotely accurate. Thulos smacked it aside with his sword. He waited, giving them time. He saw a scant few step down from the walls. Such a shame. He’d hoped to enlist them, but they were still stubborn, still resisting. It looked like he’d have to make do with the rest.
“There is no honor in your deaths,”
he cried to the city. “No salvation. No noble sacrifice. One way or another…you will fight in my name.”
Velixar had begun casting by the start of his sentence, and by the end, his call to ‘rise’ thundered over the plain. The corpses atop the outer wall stood and attacked the remaining archers, burying them in their greater numbers. The last of the defenders died, torn to pieces and flung off the wall. When Thulos lifted his sword, the undead turned back toward the army, raised their hands as if in worship, and then cried out in unearthly voices a single name.
“THULOS!”
Several minutes later, the gate to the city opened, and the first of many bent their knee.
“Find out who their former lords were,” Thulos said as he sheathed his sword and turned to Velixar. “Choose the most loyal and execute the rest. Use him to call back the ships. They might have goods that would be of use to us.”
“As you wish,” Velixar said, smirking as he bowed. The smirk hid his exhaustion, but Tessanna could see it by the dimness of his eyes. How many undead did he command, she wondered. How many thousands?
As the soldiers from Angelport flooded forward, eager to ransack the city, Tessanna listened to the worshipful cries that rang out, urged on by Velixar.
Karak! they cried.
Karak!
Karak and the War God!
Alone, seemingly forgotten, Tessanna cried as another city fell.
13
Antonil’s and Theo’s men passed over the eastern of the Gods’ Bridges, into the delta, and then camped before the western bridge, just outside the limits of Ker. There they trained and waited, waiting for confirmation from King Bram to enter. Two weeks later Theo received the order he’d been hoping for: prepare the defenses. The bridge was theirs to hold.
“This is hopeless,” Harruq said to Tarlak as they watched Theo’s men dig trenches on both sides of the bridge. “Surely you see that.”
“That’s a mean thing to do, calling our only hope hopeless,” said the wizard. He removed his hat and scratched the top of his head. “Shame you’re right. I’ve been working on Antonil, but he’s starting to get a bit of that noble calling in his blood. I think he’s worried that, should everything go well, Theo will take all the glory and leave him looking the coward.”
The Half-Orcs: Books 1-5 Page 140
