The War of Stardeon (The Bowl of Souls)

by Cooley, Trevor H.

  “This is ridiculous.” Faldon said. “We don’t have the numbers for a direct assault. By the time we got to the front gates their thirty thousand goblinoids would close in and surround us. Even if we could fight our way to the gates and get the people inside the academy to the portal, we would take heavy losses. By the time those of us that survived got through the portal, we could be too few to help.”

  “There is a plan in place to help with-,” Latva began.

  “We already have a plan in place,” Captain Demetrius interrupted. “We will spread out and strike in small units, melting away before the enemy can counterattack. We will bleed this army until the witch can no longer hold them and they retreat back onto the mountains. As far as Vriil’s beasts go, they can be formidable, but we have fought them before and we can do it again.”

  There were cheers of agreement from around the cave and Master Latva let out a sigh. The wizard looked away and there was some muttering on the other end of the mirror. Their view of the master was jostled around, then moved away, showing first the ceiling, then the floor, then a pair of feet sticking out from under brown robes. Finally the view moved up and another face appeared.

  Justan gasped. He knew this man.

  Who is it? Fist asked. The ogre still stood on the far side of the cave with a sleeping Beth cradled in his arms.

  He saw brown hair and kind eyes, but the rest of the man’s features were difficult to focus on. He was sure of it. “It’s the prophet.”

  “Hello, everyone,” the prophet said with a smile. “So nice to see you all.”

  “Sir . . .” Faldon said with a look of awe and perhaps even fear. It was the first time in Justan’s life that he had seen his father looked cowed by anyone.

  “I wish I could take the time to speak with each and every one of you, but for right now I have some hard truths that apply to you all,” the prophet said. “For I have seen a horrible vision.

  “In my dream the sun dimmed and a vile tide of red-eyed beasts came in from the east. They swept over the hills and poured over the proud walls of the academy like they were nothing. Then the walls filled with blood until they burst like a dam, spilling across the land drowning all in its path.”

  There was a lot of murmuring but no one dared to argue this time.

  The prophet glanced around, his eyes seeming to rest on each of them before he continued, “I am sorry, but there is no way around it. If the academy is not evacuated in two day’s time, everyone inside will be destroyed and then the monsters will find you in your caves and though your fight will be valiant, it will be brief.”

  The cave was silent as everyone absorbed the finality of the prophet’s tone.

  “Is this truly the only way, John?” Coal asked.

  “Yes, Coal. I am sad to say it is,” the prophet said.

  “It won’t be easy to convince the council,” Faldon said.

  “Nonetheless, they must be convinced,” the prophet said. “You have people inside. Tell them it is time for boldness.”

  Faldon’s face was filled with sorrow. “But to just abandon the academy to those creatures . . .”

  “Faldon, I understand your sentiments, but they are ill placed,” the prophet said. “The academy is not just some border land fort that became a fortress that became a school. The academy is what it has always been; a group of warriors that have banded together to protect the lands from evil. Master Latva was wrong when he told you that the academy could not be saved. The people inside those walls are the academy. By rescuing those people, saving the academy is exactly what you are doing. Walls can be rebuilt. People cannot.”

  Faldon’s jaw tightened. “Yes, sir.”

  The prophet gave them a kind smile. “Don’t worry. You have everything you need to succeed in this plan. I look forward to seeing you soon.”

  The prophet’s eyes moved away and the mirror went blank.

  “I . . . still can’t believe it,” Demetrius said. “We come all this way just to retreat.”

  “No,” Justan said. “We came to fight and that’s what we’ll be doing. Say what you will, but the task the prophet has given us is anything but easy.”

  “A dag-gum frontal charge and retreat,” Lenny said with a slight shake of his head. “That’s a massacre waitin’ to happen.”

  “We will have to coordinate our attack with the people inside,” Locksher said, rubbing his chin. “They will have to be ready to come out and join us at just the right time.”

  “You heard what the prophet said. Willum and Darlan have to convince the council to evacuate,” Faldon replied.

  “Yes and that will be a tall task,” Coal said, his face filled with concern.

  “To succeed, we will need to break the army’s spirits,” Lance said. “Strike ‘em hard. Scare the hell out of ‘em.”

  “The witch has too tight a grip on them,” Jhonate said. “They will not break easily.”

  “Perhaps, but we have something the mother of the moonrats doesn’t know about.” said Sir Hilt. He inclined his head towards his sleeping wife. “We have a witch of our own.”

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Sweat trickled down Willum’s back as his father told him of the prophet’s warning. He sat in the council waiting room with the other assistants, his heart racing. Father I don’t know how we’re going to do this.

  The wizard was sitting astride Samson on the outskirts of Wobble while Faldon’s army made preparations in the darkness behind him. It was the first time they had been close enough to speak to each other without both of them laying still and meditating. The prophet said it is time for boldness, Willum. You and Darlan have no choice but to act right away.

  It will be difficult. We’ve made little progress.

  Anything new since last night? Coal asked.

  Darlan met with Swift Kendyl this morning. Every member of the War Council that can be ruled out as the traitor is now on our side. Darlan had been working on the Training School Council members for days. Tad had been suspicious even of them, but Darlan felt they were all easy to rule out since none of them had been part of the day-to-day operations inside the academy until after the siege.

  So it is down to Sabre Vlad, Hugh the Shadow, and Stout Harley then? Coal asked.

  Or their assistants, Willum replied, eyeing the other occupants of the room. There were three of them and they were all possible suspects.

  There was Silent Josef, Hugh the Shadow’s assistant. He was fair faced, red haired, and wore black leather armor, the standard uniform of the Assassins Guild. Rumor had it that he carried more blades secreted around his body than anyone but Hugh himself.

  Then there was Kathy the Plate, Stout Harley’s assistant. She had a pretty face, but did her best to hide it. She kept her blond hair short and painted a thick black stripe across her face that ran from temple to temple and covered her from nose to eyebrow. When she had her helmet on, it made her a terrifying sight, giving the illusion that there was no one inside the armor.

  Finally there was Lyramoor, Sabre Vlad’s half-elf assistant. He wore scalemail over light chain and a leather weapon sash filled with throwing knives. He was one of the deadliest swordsmen in the academy and fiercely loyal to Vlad, but he was also known as the most ill tempered and hard to deal with graduate in the school. Willum had always wondered why Sabre Vlad had picked him. The two men couldn’t have been any more different.

  All three of the assistants were staring back at Willum. Or more accurately, they were staring at the axe he wore on his hip. Word had gotten around that Tad had left the axe to him, but this was the first time he had worn it around the others.

  “Hey Willum,” said Silent Josef. Hugh the Shadow had given him the name as somewhat of a joke. While on a mission, he was silent as death. Otherwise, he was the loudest mouthed graduate in his guild. “We’ve been debating over here and we hoped you could settle something for us. Why did Tad the Cunning leave you his axe?”

  “I guess he liked me,” Willum said wi
th a shrug. He didn’t blame them for wondering. He hadn’t been Tad’s brightest student. “All he said in his letter was that he thought I could handle it.”

  “But you aren’t even an axe guy,” Josef laughed. “It’s totally different than fighting with a scythe.”

  “Then I suppose it’s time for me to learn,” Willum replied. In truth he was wary about using the axe at all. Tad’s instructions had been very specific.

  “Let us see it, then,” said Kathy the Plate, an axe user herself. She was one of very few women in the academy, but no one doubted she was as tough as any man. She wore the heaviest heavy plate armor in the Defense Guild just to prove it.

  Willum understood their curiosity. Tad had always kept his axe sheathed and most students had never seen it before. He was hesitant, though. He was getting enough attention over the axe as it was.

  Go ahead. Show it to them, Coal said. I want to try something Edge did the other day.

  Willum thumbed open the clasp around the handle and slid the axe from its halfsheath. He laid it on the table before them so that they could take a look. Even Lyramoor stepped closer.

  The half-elf had seen a lot of battle. He had a puckered scar that ran from just under his right eye down to his upper lip, the pointed tip of one ear had been cut off, and a chunk of his left nostril was missing. Willum had heard whispers that the rest of Lyramoor’s body was a heavily scarred mess. Swen had seen him bathing once and told him there was no way that so many scars could have come from battle alone.

  “Just don’t touch it. Tad says it has been known to bite,” he said, hoping they would be cautious, but if anything, the assistants looked even more curious.

  “Ooh, that thing is wicked!” said Josef, leaning in closer to the axe, but to Willum’s relief he didn’t try to touch it. “What does it do?”

  “I’m still figuring that out,” Willum said. The runes on the side of the axe didn’t just look painted red anymore. They glowed. To Willum the axe felt hungry. It was as if it was sending out a signal begging someone to use it.

  Is it really that dangerous? Coal asked in concern.

  I was exaggerating, Willum said. In truth he wasn’t sure. Tad’s notes on the axe had been quite intimidating, but he didn’t think it could do anything to someone who hadn’t claimed ownership over it. He hadn’t dared try to communicate with it yet himself for just that reason.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Kathy said, her eyes reflecting the red of the runes. Lyramoor’s eyebrows rose.

  Now, Coal sent. I am going to change your sight so that you can see if any of them are wearing magic. Are you ready?

  You can do that? Willum asked.

  The mere fact that you are bonded to me means that you have some small magic ability. From talking to Locksher and Edge, I should be able help you shift to mage sight. I tried it earlier with Bettie and it worked just fine.

  Alright. Do it. Willum said. He felt a little pressure between his eyes and his vision shifted. The axe glowed a blaze of yellow and red.

  Air and fire magic, Coal said. And very powerful.

  Willum’s eyes darted to the others. Each of them had magic somewhere about them. Kathy’s breastplate glowed a dark blue, Josef had multiple magic knives glowing from within his armor, and Lyramoor . . . The half-elf’s whole body shimmered with a yellow haze.

  That one has himself protected from mage sight somehow. We can see he has magic, but we just don’t know what it is. Very interesting, Coal said. Willum thought it made him even more likely to be the traitor.

  Kathy the Plate leaned closer to the axe, her finger’s twitching. The runes glowed even brighter. “Are you sure you won’t let me hold it?”

  That seemed like a very bad idea. Willum picked the axe up off the table. “Not yet. Not until I know what it can do.”

  She frowned in disappointment, but didn’t press the matter. Weapons were a personal thing. There was a standard code in the academy. You didn’t touch a another warrior’s weapon without their permission and it wasn’t considered disrespectful to refuse a request.

  Now I’ll help you shift to spirit sight, Coal said. You are looking for a sphere a little smaller than the size of your fist.

  That moonrat eye you warned me about, Willum said.

  Yes, Coal replied. Watch.

  Willum felt as if something very fine had been drawn across his eyes. His vision shifted again.

  The axe in his hand burned even brighter as if white light was trying to break free from within the red and yellow magic.

  Binding magic, Coal said. Willum, that axe is very dangerous indeed. I would rather that you didn’t mess with it.

  Willum didn’t answer, but put the axe back into the half-sheath at his waist and looked at the others. He didn’t see anything on Josef or Kathy and didn’t expect to be able to see past Lyramoor’s yellow haze, but to his surprise, there were two things on the half-elf. An earring in his pointed ear shimmered white and there was something near his abdomen that had a shape hard to define. It looked to be a bit smaller than Coal had said to look for, but he couldn’t be sure.

  Ah, his protection doesn’t cover spirit magic, Coal said. But then why would it? Few have spirit sight anymore.

  Do you think he’s the one? Willum asked.

  It is hard to tell, Coal replied. I don’t think that was a moonrat eye. You should keep a close watch on him though. See what Darlan thinks.

  There was a sharp rap on the door, signaling them that the council meeting was over. The four of them stood at attention waiting for the council members to file into the room. The atmosphere was a bit tense at first as Dann Doudy barged through. He seemed so upset that he didn’t have so much as a sneer for Willum as he walked past him and into the corridor behind. Stout Harley was next, the wide man giving a jerk of his head to Kathy the Plate as he passed. She followed him out of the room, trotting to keep up. Willum noticed that they headed down the corridor in the opposite direction of Doudy.

  The rest of the War Council seemed in high spirits as they walked in, talking to each other and laughing. Darlan wore a wide smile, something which told Willum she had achieved some sort of victory. The men clapped Oz the Dagger on the back and Willum understood.

  The council had been talking about electing a member to take Tad’s place as strategy teacher. Oz had been the obvious choice. He had been the strategy teacher in the training school for years after all, but there had been several other names up for consideration and the debate had been fierce.

  Willum followed Darlan out of the room and down the corridor towards the rear entrance of the council hall. They didn’t speak until they were out of the building and then Darlan cast a privacy bubble around them so that no one could overhear.

  “So Oz won?”

  “Yes!” she said. “Now we have someone we can trust that isn’t just part of the War Council, but part of the Battle Academy Council as well. If we’re lucky some of them will start confiding in him or Dann Doudy will make a move and we will have the proof we need.”

  Willum sighed. “Darlan, things have changed. We’re out of time.”

  He told her about the prophet’s vision and the Mage School’s offer of help. As he spoke, her steps slowed and her smile faded.

  “You can speak with your father right now?” she asked and Willum nodded. “Ask him when Faldon’s army plans to attack.”

  “They are planning right now,” he said. “They will finish preparations tomorrow and get in position to strike early the next day.”

  She ran a hand through her hair and frowned. “That is close to the prophet’s two day deadline.”

  “I know, but father says they need every second they can get to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible,” he replied.

  “Well, so do we, so I suppose I can’t complain,” Darlan said, then stamped her foot. “Damn, it’s going to be hard to get the council to abandon this place!”

  “Well, I think if we-.”

  She stomped her foot a
gain. “Blast it!”

  “You know, Sir Edge was quite surprised to hear that you swore so much,” Willum said, then winced, immediately regretting his words.

  Her face colored, but she forced a smile and waved at some people that called out her name. “You told him I swore?”

  Why did you tell her that? Coal asked.

  “Well, no. I just repeated what you said to my father. I didn’t know it would be a surprise,” Willum said hurriedly.

  What? Blame it on me? Coal said in surprise. I haven’t even met the woman yet.

  Sorry, Father! I wasn’t thinking.

  “A mother doesn’t swear around her children,” she said, continuing to force a smile on her face for the passers by. “And what the hell do you mean, I ‘swear so much’?”