Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“Twice,” Myka answered softly. “The first war between Kaltara and Dobuk was never recorded. It was in the time before man. Hundreds of dragons and demons battled for the glory of their masters. Most died before Dobuk withdrew from the battlefield. It is said that the tears of the dragons flooded the world as they grieved for their lost kin.”

“I imagine the demons must have suffered even worse,” Marak said cautiously. “They must have added to the flood.”

“Demons do not grieve for their kin, or anyone else,” snapped Myka. “They are despicable beings that were born to kill without remorse. Do not attempt to draw parallels between the winged warriors and the foul spawn of Dobuk.”

“I am sorry,” apologized the Torak. “You said that you fought the demons twice. When was the second time?”

“The second battle was at Vandegar,” the dragon answered as she tried to compose herself. “There were only a few dozen dragons and demons left when Vand tried to crush the forces of Kaltara. The battle was fierce and both races almost became extinct. Now has come the time to finish it once and for all. When this battle is over, either the demons or dragons will cease to exist. It will be as if we never existed.”

“Do not concede the battle before it is joined,” Marak stated in an attempt to raise the spirits of the dragon. “I did not even know that other dragons still existed. How many demons are left?”

“There are six demons left,” answered Myka. “They wait for us at Vandegar.”

“And how many other dragons?” asked Marak. “When will they arrive?”

“I am the last dragon,” Myka replied as giant tears rolled from her eyes.

“Six to one?” gasped Marak. “Can you take on six demons at once?”

“No,” answered the dragon. “To fight a single demon is the fight of your life. In the olden days, the dragons would use clever strategies to outsmart the demons. Kaltara was wise enough to endow us with great intelligence, but Dobuk was merely interested in strength. The demons cannot match wits with a dragon, but their stupidity can only help a small bit.”

“How can you use their stupidity against them?” asked Marak.

“By challenging them to mortal combat singly,” answered Myka. “Their pride will force them to come one at a time unless Vand discovers what I am trying to do. If he orders them to attack in force, they will.”

“You will still have to kill all six of them to win,” frowned Marak. “If you are evenly matched in skills and strength, the odds are against you.”

Marak had merely been thinking out loud, but he realized his mistake immediately.

“But I am sure that you can do it,” Marak quickly added with a smile.

“Nice recovery, Torak,” sighed Myka, “but your words are true. My goal in the coming battle is to at least disable each demon before they get me so that they cannot hinder your troops. You must defeat Vand or all hope for the world is lost.”

“That is a defeatist attitude,” scowled the Torak. “Never give in while there is life in your breast.”

“I am not giving in,” snapped Myka. “I will do the best that I can do, but I am also keenly aware of my mortality. Why are we even having this discussion? The demons are no affair of yours unless I die before my job is done. Your task is to defeat the armies of Vand and end his miserable life. I will keep the demons busy while you do so. Just don’t dally once the battle is joined. Time will not be on our side once the fighting begins.”

“There must be a way that I can help you with the demons,” sighed Marak. “I will find a way.”

“Go to sleep,” replied the dragon. “We all need rest so that we are at the peak of our skills when the battle begins. Let me sleep.”

Myka’s eyes shut instantly. Marak sat for a few more minutes staring at Myka. His mind raced trying to think of how he could help, but he knew that Myka was probably correct. Her life was created to battle the demons, so she surely knew their weaknesses. He finally started to rise to find a place to sleep, but he could not bear to leave Myka alone. The Torak moved close to the dragon and curled up next to her and fell asleep.

* * *

Premer Tzargo entered the throne room at Vandegar. The head mage, Pakar, had just finished addressing the Emperor and returned to stand with his mages.

“Report, Tzargo,” commanded Vand.

“The Khadoran armies are crossing the Fortung Mountains,” Tzargo responded. “They appear to be in no particular hurry, but there can be no doubt that every clan in Khadora is coming to Vandegar.”

“Excellent,” smiled the Emperor. “We will put an end to them soon enough. What about the Chula?”

“There has been no sign of the Chula,” frowned Tzargo. “They are definitely not traveling with the Khadorans. I specifically asked our scouts to watch for them.”

“And the elves?” prompted the Emperor.

“They have not been seen, either,” shrugged Tzargo.

The Emperor growled, but Pakar stepped forward and spoke.

“The Elves and the Chula will travel clandestinely,” the mage advised the Emperor. “They may elude our scouts in the forests of Khadora, but once they reach the plains of Fakara, there will be little for them to hide in. We will see them coming long before they get here.”

“It has been a long time since you were last in Fakara,” the Emperor shook his head. “It is no longer the complete wasteland it once was. The Chula shamans brought their magic here and have caused the barren wastelands to spring to life. You really need to get out more, Pakar.”

The mage frowned in humiliation. The Fakara he knew from years ago when he had helped Veltar seize control of Grulak’s mind was a vast wasteland. He could not imagine anything else.

“Perhaps you should spend some time on the roof,” smiled Premer Tzargo. “While the area around us is indeed barren, you can see the distant forests from up there.”

“I have a better idea,” smiled the Emperor. “Pakar, take your mages and make your way to the west. You can report back when you have found out where the Chula and elves are.”

“And leave you defenseless?” balked the mage. “We might not get back in time for the battle.”

“I am hardly defenseless,” chuckled the Emperor as he enjoyed watching the mage squirm. “It will give your men something to do while we wait for the Khadorans. They are growing fat and lazy sitting around here. Find the elves and Chula and report back quickly. Go.”

Pakar bit his lip as he bowed low to the Emperor. He turned and gathered his dozen mages and marched them out of the room.

“They would be useful to have around when the battle starts,” Tzargo said softly.

“They will be back in time,” shrugged Vand. “You would be amazed at how well Pakar and his men can perform when they are given a task. They have not failed me yet, but they are getting lazy sitting around here. Their small task will do them good. Has there been any further word from Premer Cardijja?”

“Nothing,” frowned Premer Tzargo. “Their last message made little sense. They were in a jungle being attacked by giant spiders and little men. All attempts to contact them since have failed.”

“That is not what I wanted to hear,” frowned the Emperor. “I want Angragar located.”

“I could send a rider out to them,” suggested Tzargo. “There is still time to have his armies return for the coming battle.”

“Have I not given you enough men?” shouted Vand. “You have half a million more men than you brought with you, plus I have made each of your men invincible. You have the strength of all of the armies that we sent out of Motanga and still you whine for more. You will not mention it again. Do you understand?”