Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“Cancel all attacks,” StarWind said bluntly. “All mages are to come here immediately, and send twenty thousand Fakaran horsemen to us. If you have any questions let us know now.”

“No questions,” LifeTender said quickly. “We are on our way.”

“And hurry,” urged Emperor Marak. “I will not let Myka die again.”

Marak let the air tunnel drop and returned to the dragon’s side. HawkShadow and StarWind followed. They all stood watching Lyra as she cast some type of healing spells.

“Can a dragon’s body accept human blood?” HawkShadow asked softly.

“I don’t know,” admitted Marak, “but she must have some blood, or she will die. There are no other dragons. She is the last.”

“Talk elsewhere,” snapped Lyra. “I am having a hard enough time trying to find a heartbeat as it is.”

“Come help us build that signal fire, Emperor Marak,” suggested StarWind.

The Torak gazed upon Myka with concern etched deeply in his face, but he nodded and followed the Sakovan couple out of the clearing. They backtracked along the path of destruction until they reached the end of the forest. Upon the plains they built a huge signal fire and waited for help to arrive.

* * *

Emperor Vand walked out on the roof of the Vandegar Temple. He walked to the southern edge where others had gathered to view the enemy and gazed out over the plains. He saw the distant campfires of the Khadorans and the Fakarans and sneered at them.

“They did not put up much of a fight today,” quipped the Emperor.

“They thought it would be easy to conquer Vandegar,” nodded Tzargo. “They had not counted on your dead warriors. I think the Aritor clan might have ceased to exist today. There might be a few left in Khadora, but not one of them survived today’s ambush.”

“I am surprised that the loss of the dragon and the Torak did not cause them all to turn around and go home,” cackled Pakar.

“It took three of my demons to defeat them,” snarled Vand, “but it was worth it. Perhaps we should move out tonight and slay them in their sleep.”

“The daylight works against them,” Tzargo shook his head. “At night we would not see their counterattack coming, but during the day their every move can be watched from up here. We are best to just sit tight and wait for them to come and sacrifice themselves.”

“I like that,” grinned Emperor Vand. “Sacrifice. It sounds appropriate.”

“What was the skirmish south of the lake today?” asked Pakar. “I see no campfires in that direction.”

“That was the Jiadin,” answered Tzargo. “For some reason they charged in from the east and then into the forest to the south of the lake. Hours later we saw them head back to the east, but they avoided contact on the way back. Perhaps it was just to test the mettle of the skeletons.”

“Perhaps,” mused Vand. “I have learned to take nothing for granted with these people. Maybe they were planning on rafting across the lake to get closer to the temple, but could not defend their position.”

“Whatever their purpose,” smiled Tzargo, “they left a fair amount of dead on the plains. That gave us a victory in the east as well as the west.”

“What do you think they will try tomorrow, Premer?” asked the Emperor.

“I am not sure,” admitted Tzargo. “They have no real options in terms of strategy. They have to get through the skeletons before they even reach my force. We have a complete ring around my men and the temple. There is no weakness in that structure. All they can do is charge and throw bodies on the ground. By the time they reach my men, they will be but a tenth of what they started with.”

“And they will not expect your men to rise from the dead,” cackled Vand. “Tomorrow will be a glorious day. I want the boy taken alive.”

“The boy?” asked Tzargo.

“The one they call the Astor,” nodded Emperor Vand. “He is not to be harmed. Make sure that everyone hears that message. That goes for you as well, Pakar.”

“Understood,” frowned the head mage, “but why?”

“He is the only one that I can be sure of that has the right knowledge,” smiled Vand. “He absolutely knows the location of Angragar, and he will lead us to it.”

“He won’t want to,” stated Tzargo.

“I know,” the Emperor grinned evilly, “but he will lead us just the same.”

When the Emperor turned to leave the roof, a furtive figure just inside the doorway moved stealthily away. The black-cloaked figure moved swiftly through the dimly lit corridors and slipped through a doorway that hadn’t been visible moments before.

“You are back soon,” Xavo said as he cast the spell to hide the doorway.

“It was only a short gloating meeting on the roof,” replied Lady Mystic.

“And what did you learn tonight?” Xavo asked.

“That Marak and the dragon died today,” answered Vand’s daughter.

“No,” frowned Xavo. “That does not bode well for the attack. Will the Khadorans turn around and go home?”

“They have not done so,” shrugged Lady Mystic. “I also heard my father order that the Astor is to be taken alive. Vand wants the location of Angragar and he knows that Rejji has it.”

“So they will be trying especially hard to kill the Star of Sakova,” frowned Xavo. “We must save my daughter if we can.”

“If we can,” nodded Lady Mystic, “but our mission is in another direction. We cannot afford to spend much time protecting her unless you have changed your mind.”

“No,” frowned Xavo, “my mind has not changed, but if Lyra is dead, she cannot fight Vand.”

“And that is when we are supposed to confront Dobuk,” Lady Mystic nodded in agreement.

“The Three were supposed to be our diversion,” stated Xavo. “Dobuk will be lending his power to Vand for that battle. It is when the Great Demon will be at his weakest.”

“Which makes losing Marak very bitter,” sighed Lady Mystic. “I was hoping that the two of them would gang up on Vand and prolong the fight.”

“Two?” Xavo asked in confusion. “There are three of them.”

“What I have heard,” Lady Mystic replied, “the boy Rejji is not much of a fighter. He doesn’t even carry a sword, and he is not a mage. I really can’t see him being much help in the battle.”

“It does sound like his only purpose was to unite the Fakarans,” nodded Xavo, “but he can also be a distraction, especially if Vand needs him alive.”

“There is that,” shrugged Lady Mystic, “but is your daughter strong enough to take on my father alone? Personally, I find that thought ludicrous. Vand is more powerful than you can imagine.”

“After seeing Lyra in action,” smiled Xavo, “my imagination can be rather wild. I do not know where she gets her power from, but it is unlike any that I have ever seen.”

“We shall see,” Lady Mystic sighed as she eased into a chair. “Vand is expecting a full charge from both the Fakarans and the Khadorans tomorrow. He expects ninety percent of them to die before reaching Tzargo’s hellsouls.”

“Marak would not sacrifice his people that way,” scoffed Xavo. “That is Premer Tzargo’s dreams you are listening to.”

“But Marak is not around any more, is he?” retorted Lady Mystic.

* * *

The Fakarans were the first to arrive. Thousands of horsemen, guided by the signal fire, flowed into the forest and followed the path of destruction to the wounded dragon. Many of the Fakaran horsemen had elves riding double with them, and Marak’s spirits lifted when he saw that Princess Alahara was one of them.

“Mistake,” shouted Marak.

Princess Alahara leaped off the back of the Fakaran horse and rushed over to Emperor Marak. She took one glance at Myka and hugged the Torak, burying her head in his chest. Her tears flowed freely, and Marak remembered that Mistake also had a personal encounter with the dragon a long time ago.