Chapter VI
Siege and Craft
A deep anxiety lay over the City of Findolin. Those that stood guard on the walls looked upon the mighty army with a shudder and could only watch helplessly as more of the enemy seemed to arrive daily. It was bewildering, and incomprehensible that such an army was not yet at full strength since their arrival at least two weeks before the enemy camp had just bloated into a monstrosity of incalculable number. And to watch the unabated approach of that mighty storm as it grew ever more menacing required the strongest heart.
Agoran too was looking down from the Eagles turret, staring out with a deep foreboding at the immense army of the Mandrake, how many more legions would come before they felt confident enough to strike a fatal blow. Never before had such a mighty force come before the gates of the city. It was fortunate indeed that the city had been built on a plateau; the enemy would find it difficult indeed to build siege towers that could rise above their walls, or a battering ram with the ability to break their mighty gates and bring them crashing down. Agoran had sent in disguise, spies to the enemy camp and was concerned that none had returned. He had hoped to gather some understanding of the enemy and what they planned. He now felt his foolhardy gamble had wasted young lives, lives he could ill afford to lose. It was not even the fact that they were overdue that made him uneasy; but it was the thought of what the Mandrake would do to them had they been discovered. There were many ways in which the enemy might force a man to talk.
Agoran heard a commotion coming from inside the tower; he turned and quickly walked back through the doorway and down the cold hard stone stairs. Inside there were two men standing at his chamber door, they were arguing animatedly with a third.
“We need to see him now," said one of the men.
Agoran recognised them immediately; they were two of the men he had sent out into the enemy camp. Victor was a tall middle aged man whose blond matted locks crazily hung down his shoulders; his blue viscous eyes were remonstrating excitedly with the guard that stood blocking his path. His cloak was worn, as were his dark breeches, while his tunic was muddied and frayed. Kranz stood at Victor's side, a younger man of similar build but with short cropped reddish hair and alert brown eyes, that clearly showed how agitated he was by the posturing of the guard. He too looked weathered and tired. Agoran appeared from the shadows and gestured for the guard to step aside, he opened the door to his chambers and ushered a frustrated looking Victor and Kranz inside. Turning back to the guard, he asked him to get some victuals for his guests and to bring the Seer to his quarters. The Seer was one of the Kings advisors, she was a keeper of the most ancient knowledge, held deep in the Vaults of Euclid's Tower, and she was skilled in the art of illusion.
Agoran’s quarters were large. To one end of the room was a stone hearth, to the front of it, a metal grate. In the centre of the room were a couple of large chairs which fronted a long couch, all stood on a thick rug made from the skin of a great Suberian Bear. There was a thick wooden desk beneath the open window. The hearth had been lit sometime before, casting shadows from wall to wall making it appear that ghostly shapes danced around the room. There were torches hanging from the walls, which afforded them some shallow light. Agoran directed Victor and Kranz to the seats in front of the fire. He took a bottle of wine from on top of his desk and was about to fill a couple of dried and dusty goblets with it, but first he blew away any itinerant remnants that may have been left from a previous draught, before filling them and handing them to the two men. Victor and Kranz looked at them distastefully and while Agoran was not looking poured out the contents into some potted plants situated by the window, after, the two speedily sat down.
Agoran knew that they would, once they felt more at ease, begin to talk of their venture, so he let them settle whilst studying their untidy rough appearance with some sympathy. There was a loud knock at the door, and in entered the guard bringing with him food and drink, and also following on close behind him was the Seer. He laid everything on the table and then left. The Seer wore a hooded cloak beneath which was a loose hanging leather jerkin and long breeches which she had tucked within soft fitting leather boots. She removed the hood revealing long blond hair that was tied back; her keen penetrating blue eyes took in the room instantly. She had a confident air; her youthful face could not disguise the depth that lay beneath her gaze. Agoran introduced her to the new arrivals, as she joined him on the couch.
After he had eaten his fill Victor was the first to speak.
”I have some shocking news indeed,” said Victor. “Their army grows stronger each day but it is not just made up of Marauders but of an elite guard known as the Assassins and a strange diabolic people known as the Wrath. He has brought with him his most vile servants. And that is not all, they have a Dragon with them, it is called the Orochi, a mighty four headed wingless beast, each head had a long curved horn, its mouth has two spear like tusks, its scales were like hardened shale, on its front extremities were the nastiest looking talons that you’ve ever seen, as long and as sharp as scimitars. Its eyes seemed lifeless, in fact worse than that, soulless.”
“What!” said Agoran in disbelief, “You must be mistaken the Orochi serves no one, and has no master.”
“It does now, I saw it clear as day with my own eyes,” replied Victor sitting back wearily.
Agoran could see Kranz becoming agitated.
“It is bewitched, by some method too terrible to contemplate he is able to influence the creature, which now does his bidding,” said Kranz, deep concern etched on his face. “I heard the Wrath boasting of it, but that is the least of our problems. We should not expect help from the Dragon people for some time, maybe never.”
Kranz fell silent for a moment as the others took in the severity of what this could mean. In the shadows the flames seemed to dance more excitedly against the walls as he continued.
“Jin has sent an army of countless thousands to bring the people of Osgaroth to their knees. I cannot see that help will come from that direction. I fear the Dragon People will soon be in need of help themselves.”
Again there was a further silence. Agoran looked at Victor whose eyes could not conceal a dread purpose he was quickly formulating.
“What say you Victor?" asked Agoran.
“It is of the Orochi I wish to speak, when I was walking amongst the Marauders and his elite Shadow Warriors, I noticed a small group, different from the others, they were around a small fire, so I crept closer to them and warmed my hands at their fire. They were in fact the coven of the Loki, the four powerful Elementals, with all the power that that entails. Although I could not catch everything that was being talked of, I did hear them mention that Jin kept the essence of the Orochi in a small chest somewhere in his tent. If we could destroy whatever it is that imprisons it and set the creature free, it might just turn on its captors, it would at least not turn on us. It would take cunning to do so, but it might just be possible.”
"The Loki here also," repeated the Seer, with a sense of dread.
Agoran was more interested in the news of the Orochi. He turned to the Seer.
“What sort of device could hold such a creature?” asked Agoran.
The Seer thought a moment, “There is only one thing that I am aware of, that is capable of such a thing. You would have to look out for a magic sphere.”
They all nodded thoughtfully, magic spheres were rare, and to be forced to break one if necessary was a desperate measure indeed.
“What do we know of these Elementals?" asked Agoran.
“We know that there can only be four at any one time,” said the Seer. “That, as you are aware, they represent the elements, but they are not as powerful as that first appears. They need each other to work their Elemental Art, drawing strength from one another. If one dies the others weaken considerably, and so on, if two then three die. And each one can be destroyed by their alternate opposite, hence rain destroys fire; the elemental that controls the sacred flame can b
e drowned. Water can be dissipated by heat therefore the one who controls the power of water would die if consumed by fire. Earth can crumble to dust by using either the sacred flame to consume it, or by the force of the wind, which could destroy it, and the elemental who is able to use the power of the wind can be killed by having no air to breath; suffocation. But have a mind that once any of the elementals die they need to be replaced at once to restore the balance in nature. Hence those closest to them, as they die, will draw their power from them, and so the next generation of elementals are born. An Elemental can also choose willingly to give up their power to someone else, but the individual undertaking the transfer from one person to another would need to be competent in certain key magical arts, if they are to succeed.”
“I see but the elementals are not the main adversary we face,” said Agoran. “It is the Orochi."
"Do not underestimate the Elementals," replied the Seer. "Together they can be a powerful force and cause as much damage as the Orochi is capable of."
"That's interesting if a little too disturbing," said Agoran, "So the question is how do we get to them?"
"On our venture into their camp we discovered that each legion has an identification number which we copied, and that's how we were able to move so easily among them.
"That's a new development even our spies in the Imperium have not reported such a thing. Have you got one with you?" asked Agoran.
Victor passed him a piece of paper with what appeared to be a random scrawl on it.
"At least we've learnt something of high import," continued Agoran. "We will not only be able to infiltrate their entire army at will, unless of course they often change the symbols. But also we might perhaps send spies into the heart of the Mandrake Imperium; maybe even as far as Jinopolis.”
"I think we should overcome our present dilemma before we tackle future ones," replied the Seer.
"You're right of course, so let us sum this up," said Agoran as he handed the paper to the Seer, "We need to raid a camp of thousands that are bent on our destruction and take; if I’m not mistaken from the well guarded tent of their commander, this Jin, a chest, which is probably locked by some perverse magic spell that will immediately give the alarm when tampered with. Then should we breach the chest, we must then break the sphere holding the soul of the Orochi, and hope that such a creature doesn’t rampage through our lands anyway. We then, and by all means correct me if I have this round the wrong way, we then have to kill the four elementals who have the power of nature at their disposal. Am I forgetting anything?”
Victor looked at him, “Well there are the Wrath too, who have the power to become savage Wolfmen.”
“Of course, there are the Wrath,” said Agoran, pausing a moment. "And let's not forget Jin who by all accounts is a mighty sorcerer in his own right.”
They all sat silently thinking long and hard for alternatives and options.
After what felt like an age Agoran spoke up once more.
“So anyway,” he said. “Can anyone tell me how we are to proceed?”
The Seer shrugged discouragingly, she had not noticed that whilst listening attentively, she had clasped the chair handle so severely that it had actually come loose in her hand.
“Right we all know we cannot go with any kind of force against the Mandrake, to do so would be madness,” said the Seer. “But since we have already infiltrated their camp once, we four could do so again. Victor knows where Jin’s tent is, and where the Elementals are. With my powers of illusion I might be able to convince those standing guard, that I am in fact he of the dark magic. We then find the chest and destroy the sphere holding the essence of the Orochi. With the Orochi free and rampaging through the camp of the enemy, we then take the opportunity to seek out the Elementals and add their powers to our own; which would certainly help with the defence of the city.”
Agoran knew this was an audacious plan, with many pitfalls. It could prove tragic if the Seer were caught, especially with the knowledge she possessed of the city. The Mandrake would not need the Orochi to access the city, they would be able to use the underground tunnels, and that would be just like opening the gates to let them in. Also, how do you dispose of the Elementals in a manner that would not cause suspicion and create a disturbance? Then of course there were the Wrath, whose ability to actually smell fear meant anyone fit for the task would need to have an incredible steadfastness to succeed. They all knew that such a plan had to be meticulous down to the last detail.
“If we are to succeed on such a venture,” said Agoran, slowly formulating an idea. “We’ll need a diversion to begin with if we are to gain access to Jin’s tent, there would be no point you turning up their to find him in residence; but first, I believe we should agree to deal with the Elementals, then we will need a distraction to draw the Jin away from his tent. Once he has left, no doubt most of his personal guard will go with him. Then we appear and convince any guards that are left, that the Seer is Jin; once we enter his private quarters we find the Sphere, prior to that the Seer should have ready the knowledge to destroy it, so the Orochi can be released without too much difficulty. I must remind you, anything can go wrong at anytime. That all those volunteering for such a task, must be ready to give up their lives for the success of the mission? We will have to dare much for such a perilous venture. For it is only through such risks that we may achieve final victory.”
“There is something else that should be mentioned,” said Victor, unable to hide his concern, “It is the Lord of the Mandrake, although I could only catch a glimpse of him, I do not believe he is from one of the Central Kingdoms nor from the Eastern realms either. In fact and I know this sounds absurd, but some of their people believe his origins to be from Askalon.”
“That’s not possible,” replied a perplexed Agoran. “Unless I am much mistaken the Askalon’s are a noble people, and do not desire conquest. Seer, do you know of anyone from that land that would do such a thing?”
The Seer shifted uncomfortably in her chair as if recalling something disagreeable.
“There was a chronicle,” she murmured softly. “In the ancient scrolls, but it was based only on a legend, a prophesy made some five hundred years ago I believe.”
“Can you recall any of it?” said Agoran.
The Seer hesitated a moment before continuing, "Perhaps, what were the prophets words, 'He comes from Askalons heights, And under an eastern banner, The pretender is reborn, Shields shatter, swords drawn, And in that hour the Finns Mourn.' I must admit until Victor just mentioned that he felt Jin was not from the East, I gave those words little credence, after all no one in their right mind would ever leave Askalon. And we have as far as I am aware no enmity with them. So when I was asked to look in the old scrolls for anything significant that may be a guide to these times, and came across that prophesy, I gave it little weight. But as I say this, there is something else I do recall. Many, many years ago a prince of Askalon was cast out by his people for craving too much power, as far as I can recall, he became mighty indeed with a knowledge unsurpassed; it was said that he tried to become equal to the Gods and almost succeeded. Apparently he discovered the Mythic Resin of the last Dieameter tree and through subtle arts was able to merge it with the legendary venom of the Golden Gadspin spider, hence the reason why the Askalon’s are such a long lived race, if not immortal. But such tales are murky at best and difficult to understand. Who knows the secret wisdom of Askalon and its people, and who truly knows the truth of such a tale."
They had been talking so long into the night that the fire had started to diminish. Agoran got up and took some of the neatly piled logs stacked by the hearth to rekindle it. The flames started to dance once more as life returned to them.
He suddenly without reason began to laugh. The others looked at him, they all thought it must have finally happened; the strain of leadership had got to the poor man.
He looked up from the fire and noticed them staring at him.
“You kn
ow,” He said. “I’ve just realised today is the day we acknowledge the founding of the city, it’s a public holiday, perhaps if we ask the Mandrake nicely they might leave and come back some other time."
They all smiled softly to themselves. Thinking about it, Kranz had just remembered he was actually meant to be in the procession of the Kings Guardsmen; something he had not really wanted to do. Ceremonial dress was really tiring, the standing for hours was interminably boring, but then perhaps he could do with a little boredom.
"You're right," said the Seer. “Better still, instead of asking them back some other time. Perhaps we could convince them to leave and not come back at all.”
They all smiled and nodded, Agoran had decided that the celebration of the founding of the city should go ahead, but that it would have a much more personal and symbolic meaning than in previous years. So there would only be a small procession, and after people were encouraged to stay at home with their families, and spend the time in reflection of all the sacrifices and achievements of the people, over the years, since the founding of the City.
“Anyway back to it,” said Agoran. “How do we get the Lord of the Mandrake out of the way long enough to set free the essence of the Orochi?”
The four of them spent the rest of the early morning hours trying to work out the details to their plan, all the little parts which could mean the difference between success and failure. Timing would be everything if they were to succeed. They would have to at first have an appropriate disguise.
Achil & The Rise Of The Mandrake Page 10
