Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“Then he should tell SkyDancer the truth and let her deal with it,” retorted DarkBlade.

“She is incapable of dealing with it,” countered MistyTrail. “That is why HawkShadow says nothing. He will not lie to her, yet he will not destroy her with the truth either.”

“Well,” shrugged DarkBlade, “that is his prerogative, but I don’t see how that endangers his life.”

“No,” replied MistyTrail, “the mention of love does not endanger him, but your insistence that she needs him does. It tells HawkShadow that SkyDancer has become unstable. He can handle her love of him, but he also is responsible for sending her on missions. Now he must second-guess every assignment that he gives her. Few know HawkShadow as I do. I spent years with him as my tutor. I know him well.”

“Which means what?” asked DarkBlade.

“Which means that HawkShadow will try to do her work as well as his own to protect her,” answered MistyTrail. “He could not bear the responsibility of her death if he sent her on a mission that she was incapable of handling, and in her state of mind, that would be any mission that he gave her.”

“Then he should talk to Lyra,” frowned DarkBlade. “Get her removed from working under him. You could take her place. You just said that he tutored you for years.”

“My time in the Sakova is at an end,” MistyTrail said. “I must return to Elvangar. In fact, I am hoping to meet Myka when she returns with the Star of Sakova. She could take me home.”

“Then I will speak to Lyra,” decided DarkBlade. “I did not mean to cause trouble. I was only trying to help.”

“I understand,” MistyTrail smiled tautly. “Talk to Lyra about it. I am sure she will understand.”

Premer Cardijja marched down the gangplank and watched as thousands upon thousands of Motangan soldiers marched through the newly built city of Meliban. The first troops to be offloaded were ordered to march completely through the city. Once outside the walls, they began setting up camp. The premer walked to the city center to observe the troop movements. As generals unloaded their armies, they made their way to the premer for instructions. General Luggar arrived in a huff.

“I caught some men preparing to burn buildings,” the general scowled. “Is that an order that you gave?”

“Absolutely not,” frowned the premer. “There is no reason to destroy this city. It will make an excellent port for receiving supplies. Have those soldiers executed in front of the men still disembarking. Make sure that the message is spread that I will not tolerate unnecessary destruction. We were fortunate to have landed unopposed. This city in now Motangan.”

“What about use of the buildings?” asked General Luggar. “May we take them over for our own use?”

“Yes,” nodded the premer. “I will assign sectors to the generals. The generals can utilize the buildings as they see fit. The administration building down the street will be reserved for me and my staff.”

“You sound as if we are going to be here for a while,” commented the general. “What is our plan of attack?”

“The first step is to get situated here,” answered Premer Cardijja. “We will send out scouts from the mounted corte to search for clues as to the whereabouts of the enemy. Then we will kill the Fakarans.”

“You make it sound so simple,” replied the general. “What about Vandegar and Angragar?”

“Those problems belong to Premer Tzargo,” shrugged Cardijja. “It is my understanding that Tzargo is in charge of securing Vandegar for the Emperor. Once Vand is installed in the temple, the search for Angragar will begin in earnest. Of course,” he added, “it would be quite an accomplishment if we can determine the location of Angragar before Tzargo. I might even be promoted to First Premer. Keep that in mind when we engage the Fakarans. Any captives must be interrogated painstakingly.”

“Tzargo only has fifty thousand men,” frowned General Luggar. “Can he hold Vandegar with that small an army?”

“He has more mages than he knows what to do with,” shrugged Cardijja. “What he lacks in manpower, he makes up for with magic.”

“When does he arrive?” asked the general.

“After we have secured Meliban and located the enemy,” answered the premer. “While he can defend Vandegar, he doesn’t want to be attacked on the way there.”

“So he is waiting on us,” frowned the general. “I don’t care to have that kind of attention on me. I prefer a slow and steady approach.”

“That is why I brought a corte of cavalry with me,” replied the premer. “Fakara is a large wasteland and I don’t want to waste time locating the Fakarans. I have also arranged to have more horses shipped if we need them, but I don’t think that will be necessary just yet. Our trackers are excellent. We will find the Fakarans in a short time.”

“Or they will find us,” warned the general.

“Let them come,” smiled the premer. “That would make this much easier. Our archers are the finest in Motanga. Why do you think I chose Fakara? The land is mostly flat. You can see forever on these plains. Let the savages charge us. They will fall to our archers before they ever reach us.”

* * *

General Chen watched as Premer Shamal shouted angrily at the junior officer. The general knew that the premer rarely lost his temper. Carefully placing his feet to avoid stumbling while the ship rocked in the heavy swells, General Chen made his way to the rail alongside the premer.

“Still no word from Clarvoy?” asked the general.

“No,” scowled the premer, “and I am getting tired of waiting. Soldiers are not meant to sit on unmoving ships waiting for the war to begin. If he was not sure about the defenses of Khadora, he should have accepted our waiting in Sudamar instead of the middle of the ocean. Half of the men are seasick with the foul waves rocking these ships. I am quite tempted to attack without his information.”

“That could be costly,” warned the general. “Khadora is the best defended of our enemies. It is important to know what we are up against.”

“Khadora will be no easy task,” agreed Premer Shamal, “which is why I wanted it. I am the only premer qualified to handle it, as I have studied the Khadorans at length. Their armies are experienced fighters unlike the Omungans and Fakarans, but that is why we have a hundred thousand more men than the others. As much as the information about defenses would help us, getting my men off these ships will also help us. We are in greater danger out here than we will be in Raven’s Point.”

“Perhaps we will hear from Clarvoy today,” General Chen said hopefully.

“We had better,” scowled the premer. “If we do not hear from him today, I am giving the order to attack regardless. We can take Raven’s Point and hold there until Clarvoy gathers the information that we need.”

“Emperor Vand will not be happy with such a decision,” frowned General Chen.

“The Emperor has given me control over this force,” retorted Premer Shamal. “The decision is mine to make. What you generals are unaware of,” he continued softly, “is that Doralin’s fleet was attacked at sea. His losses were not insignificant. While I am not afraid of such a tactic coming from the Khadorans, we are still at risk upon the sea. Look around you, Chen. There are four hundred ships out here. Even a storm could cause great damage to our armies. We cannot afford to stay here much longer. One more day and I will give the order to proceed.”

“I had not heard about Doralin’s misfortune,” frowned General Chen. “How did it happen, and why do you think the Khadorans would not try the same thing?”