Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

The general turned and ran to organize the retreat. The premer shouted orders, and several generals promptly responded. Doralin issued his edicts, and the generals left to carry them out. Within minutes the sounds of felling trees carried on the air. As soon as a sevemore hit the ground, scores of men ran forward to carry it away from the camp. Within an hour the sky lightened considerably as sunlight flooded the sky. Doralin turned slowly measuring the amount of defoliation.

“The evacuation is under way,” reported General Valatosa as he returned from the rear of the camp. “I also sent a man forward to gauge the speed of the firestorm heading for us. I told him to report here.”

“Well done, Valatosa,” smiled the premer. “Now it is merely a race against time. Given six hours, we will be able to avoid the brunt of the storm. If we can survive in this firebreak, we will have fooled the Sakovans.”

“Fooled the Sakovans?” puzzled the general. “What do you mean? Do you think this fire was deliberately set?”

“Of course it was,” replied the premer. “The Sakovans continually manage to outwit us. First it was the fishing fleet that sank our ships, and then it was the poisoned rations. Now they hope to chase us out of the forest with this fire. The Sakovans know that they cannot survive by standing up to this army, so they will use any trick that they can think of to whittle us down. They are clever, but they will not win this battle of wits.”

“And how are you going to fool the Sakovans?” asked the general.

“With the troops you are evacuating,” smiled the premer. “They will believe that we fled from the fire. I have no doubt that they probably have spies behind us outside the forest. Those spies will report our retreat while we move forward and close the distance to our enemies. When the Sakovans are forced to face us, they will die.”

“If we have six hours,” frowned the general.

“If we have six hours,” echoed the premer. “We must hope that we do. Anything less will be a disaster for us. We are several days into this forest. Without a six-hour head start, we would never reach the plains before it consumed us. That is why we also need this firebreak.”

* * *

Xavo left the temple in Vandamar and hurried toward the secret clearing in the jungle near the beach. Lady Mystic was waiting for him.

“A short meeting?” she asked as Xavo entered the clearing.

“Vand may be going mad,” nodded Xavo. “His mood swings were tremendous this morning. One moment he was smiling, and the next he was shouting.”

“Did you discover where the ships left for last night?” asked Lady Mystic.

“I did,” nodded Xavo. “It appears that the Sakovans managed to raid Duran and poison the food. Doralin lost thousands of men before they realized what was going on. Premer Tzargo has sent ten thousand men to safeguard the new supplies in Duran.”

“Tzargo’s own men?” inquired Lady Mystic. “That is most unusual. He only has five armies under his direct command. He must feel confident about our defenses if he is willing to part with a fifth of them.”

“Aren’t there other armies here for defense?” asked Xavo.

“There are city garrisons,” nodded Lady Mystic, “but Vand likes to deal in overwhelming strength. I am surprised by Tzargo’s move. He must truly expect the Sakovans to return to Duran.”

“I suppose,” frowned Xavo, “but there is more. Tzargo is leaving for Fakara today, with the rest of his men.”

“Fakara?” puzzled Lady Mystic. “Are things going poorly for Vand there?

Do they need reinforcements?”

“No,” Xavo shook his head. “Cardijja’s force landed in Meliban without opposition. It makes no sense to me, but Vand was extremely pleased about it. I have been ordered to report to the docks today. I am being sent to Fakara.”

“No,” Lady Mystic frowned skeptically. “Does Vand suspect you?”

“He has given no indication of suspicion,” replied Xavo. “I tried to inquire why I was being sent, but the question was ignored.”

“I do not like the sounds of this, Xavo,” declared Lady Mystic. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I will not leave the island,” promised Xavo. “I have unfinished business here. The ships will sail without me.”

“Good,” smiled Vand’s daughter. “What else did you learn?”

“Vand’s mages have discovered how to equalize an air tunnel,” sighed Xavo. “I knew it was only a matter of time before they stumbled upon the answer. This information has already been disseminated to the battle mages on the mainland, so I must be careful with my report today. We do not know who controls Raven’s Point right now.”

“What will you do?” asked Lady Mystic.

“I will weave an air tunnel directly to the Imperial Palace in Khadoratung,” replied Xavo. “I want you with me when I do it so that you can learn the location. If anything should happen to me, you must carry on what I have started.”

“I will not listen to such talk,” balked Lady Mystic. “I will learn what I must, but you will not talk about dying. Will the mages at the palace take a message from you? I though only Rhoda was allowed to do that?”

“If I am not on the ship today,” shrugged Xavo, “Vand will already suspect me. I will no longer have anything to hide. When I contact Khadoratung, I will merely announce who I am and demand to speak to Emperor Marak.”

“Clarvoy is in Khadora now,” warned Lady Mystic. “You are taking great chances.”

“The chances must be taken,” replied Xavo. “As for Clarvoy, Vand has not heard from him. He is not happy about that.”

“I wonder if he got caught up in the battle?” mused Lady Mystic. “That is what must have happened. There is no way that the Khadorans would ever catch Clarvoy. He has been spying on them for years. He has dozens of personas there.”

“What I would give to know those personas,” sighed Xavo. “Without Clarvoy, Vand is blind and deaf.”

“Not any longer,” disagreed Lady Mystic. “The air tunnel now solves much of the problems of communications. Still, there is something to what you say. Vand has depended upon Clarvoy to present him the truth. Without him, Vand may get more information, but he will not know the value of it.”

* * *

The firebreak was long and narrow, and a hundred thousand men were trapped inside it. Soldiers, mages, and kruls squeezed tightly together to avoid the roaring flames and the blistering heat. The raging firestorm tore through the sevemore forest with amazing speed, trees exploding from the rapidly expanding sap. The strong winds spread the fire from tree to tree, but even the heat helped the fire to spread.

Premer Doralin watched one tree spontaneously combust, its needles shrinking from the heat, and the air rippling around it, until it just burst into flames. In seconds the tree was gone. Sparks flew into the firebreak, and people tried to duck as the fiery particles headed towards them, but everyone was packed too tightly to move. Shouts and curses filled the air as soldiers felt the burning particles sear their skin.

Suddenly, screams came from not far away from the premer. Doralin turned and saw a krul, his long hair burning rapidly. Soldiers tried to push away from the beast, but they could not, so they drew their swords and attacked it, trying to drive its body out of the crowd. Some of the soldiers’ uniforms caught on fire and pandemonium ripped through the tight crowd. Seconds later another krul burst into flames.

“Kill the kruls,” shouted a general. “Kill them before they burn us all.”

Doralin tried to cancel the order, but the soldiers had heard what they had wanted to hear. The orders soared through the long crowd of soldiers faster than the raging flames. Not only had the soldiers heard the orders, but so had the kruls. In the midst of the firestorm, the Motangan soldiers and the kruls attacked one another. The soldiers had difficulty drawing their swords and using them effectively in such a packed environment, but the kruls had no such limitations.