Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“I don’t know,” admitted Lady Mystic. “I cannot think of anything that would make the last army leave the city. Perhaps the best that we can do is to make them believe that the attack is not coming after all.”

Xavo brightened as he smiled at Lady Mystic with appreciation. “That might work,” he smiled. “We can tell the last general that the other two armies have engaged the elves in the south and defeated them.”

* * *

The light of dawn increased steadily as Xavo and Lady Mystic stood on the beach near the jungle trail. Their eyes scanned the horizon until they found the ship of mages.

“There it is,” pointed Lady Mystic. “It is farther out than I had expected.”

“It must be far enough offshore to prevent any of the mages from reaching land,” replied Xavo. “Are you worried about the range?”

“Not at all,” balked Lady Mystic. “If I can see it, I can hit it. What do you want me to do?”

“Waves would be nice,” smiled Xavo. “Can you create havoc with the sea?”

“I could,” frowned Lady Mystic, “but it would take considerable power and a great deal of time. How would waves help?”

“I plan to puncture the hull with light blades,” answered Xavo, “but the holes will have to be above the waterline. The waves will cause the ship to sink.”

“While I like your light blade spell,” Lady Mystic shook her head, “it is best used on large groups of people. Why not merely cause the ship to explode?”

Xavo looked at Vand’s daughter questioningly. “The wood in the ship must be old,” he frowned. “Surely the saps have been dried out by now. How will you cause the explosion?”

“The ship is brand new,” corrected Lady Mystic. “It came out of the shipyard after the invasion had already been launched. Besides, you can expand the air captured inside the wood as well as the saps.”

Xavo stood silently for a moment and then finally nodded. “I had never thought of that,” he admitted. “You certainly do think differently than anyone I have ever known. I will take the liquids,” he offered. “You expand the gasses.”

“So it is a race then?” chuckled Lady Mystic. “I accept the challenge. I will start at the stern.”

Xavo grinned and turned his attention to the bow of the ship. The two mages fell silent as they gathered the power and concentrated on the ship. Several long minutes passed without disturbance of any kind. The sky grew lighter, and a soft wind began to herald the rising of the sun.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by distant sounds of explosions. The bow and stern of the mage ship exploded in a shower of wooden splinters, large clouds of mist appearing at both ends of the ship. Shouts of alarm immediately followed as the huge ship started sinking rapidly. Several people jumped from the sinking ship, but it went down so quickly that few of the mages ever made it to the deck before it slipped under the surface of the sea.

“We need to separate somewhat,” cautioned Xavo. “No one must survive the sinking of the ship. Kill anyone trying to get to shore, but keep yourself hidden. If I see anyone trying to retaliate against you, I will focus on him. You do the same.”

Lady Mystic nodded silently and moved along the beach to put some distance between Xavo and herself. Xavo moved in the opposite direction as his eyes scanned the surface of the sea looking for survivors.

* * *

The Star of Sakova walked through the wet encampment, rainwater still dripping from the canopy of the giant fargi trees. She knew that the sun had risen, but it was hardly noticeable in the Sakovan heartland. The tall fargi trees blocked much of the light, and a morning mist lingered from the storm that had passed through during the night. She made her way through the camp and headed for the large tent that sat prominently in the center of the encampment. Long before she reached the tent, deep creases marred her brow.

Hundreds of Sakovans were stretched out on the ground. Healing mages, too numerous to count, were threading their way through the area, stopping to check on the condition of each of the wounded. Lyra’s eyes began to dampen, and she willed the tears to cease. Many of the wounded wore the old uniforms of the Imperial Guard of Omunga, but there were native Sakovans there as well. She recognized all too many of the faces as she headed for the tent. LifeTender saw Lyra approaching, and she hurried to intercept her before the Star of Sakova could enter the tent.

“You don’t want to go in there,” cautioned LifeTender. “The worst cases are inside.”

Lyra could hold back her tears no longer. She started crying as she turned and gazed at the hundreds of wounded lying outside the large tent. Her lips pressed tightly together as she shook her head and looked imploringly at LifeTender.

“I must enter,” cried Lyra as she tried to regain some semblance of composure. “I am responsible for each and every one of them.”

“You are responsible for defeating this attack on the Sakova,” LifeTender said soothingly, “but you are not responsible for the wounds these people had inflicted upon them. We are all here voluntarily to save our homeland. You must not take this personally.”

“I will enter,” Lyra said stubbornly. “I must see how our people are suffering. I must let them know that their wounds will not be in vain.”

“Let her enter,” ValleyBreeze said as she emerged from the tent to see who was talking outside the flap. “It will mean a great deal to the wounded that the Star of Sakova cares for their sacrifice.”

“Alright,” nodded LifeTender, “but try to compose yourself, Lyra. We must not lead the wounded to despair.”

Lyra nodded and wiped her eyes. She set her jaw rigidly and inhaled deeply to steady herself. ValleyBreeze held the flap open, and LifeTender escorted the Star of Sakova into the large tent. Lyra halted just inside the flap. She gazed at the neat rows of bodies laid out on the ground. She bit her lip as she saw men missing an arm or leg. Others had gaping rends in their flesh that were only visible because healing mages were changing the bandages at the time. She pictured similar gashes in those who were bandaged at the moment, and she fought back the tears. LifeTender took Lyra’s hand and started leading her to the left. Valley Breeze moved deftly and blocked their path.

“Do not try to hide the truth from the Star,” berated ValleyBreeze. “She will learn about StormSong soon enough, and she will not appreciate your attempts to shield her from reality.”

“StormSong?” gasped Lyra. “What is wrong with her?”

LifeTender bit her lip, but she turned and led Lyra towards the right side of the tent. She did not attempt to answer the Star’s question, but silently led her along the rows of bodies until they stood at the feet of StormSong. Lyra looked down at the naked Sakovan warrior who had two healing mages kneeling alongside her. StormSong’s body was raw and ripped in a hundred places. Dozens of deep puncture wounds dotted the warrior’s flesh.

“It is a miracle that she is still alive,” ValleyBreeze said softly. “She lost her choka and sword in the middle of the Motangan army. She must have fought with her bare hands.”

“There was a pile of Motangan dead at her feet when HawkShadow and Goral found her,” added LifeTender. “I do not understand why she is still alive. There is not enough energy left in her body to aid the healers. The wounds just won’t close.”

“She has never regained consciousness,” interjected one of the healing mages beside StormSong. “There is little hope for her. Will you pray for her, Lyra? Pray that Kaltara will accept her as a martyr for her people?”

Lyra broke down and started crying. Tears flowed down Lyra’s cheeks and dripped to the ground as the rain dripped down from the fargi trees outside the tent. LifeTender’s face grew concerned as the nearby patients noticed the commotion, and the healing mage tried to lead Lyra out of the tent. Lyra ripped her hand from LifeTender’s grasp and rushed to kneel beside StormSong. The two healing mages rose and backed off as ValleyBreeze shooed them away. LifeTender looked imploringly at ValleyBreeze, but ValleyBreeze merely shook her head in answer to the unspoken question.