Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“If you want to survive,” Rejji spoke slowly and clearly, “yes. The tribes developed their method of fighting because it suited the terrain. The enemy is no longer on the plains. They are in thick forests, and soon they will be climbing the mountains.”

“Until they descend out of the mountains on this side,” Adger pointed out. “Then they will be back in our kind of terrain.”

“True,” nodded Wyant, “but do you want to face two hundred and fifty thousand Motangans so close to Angragar? They must never be allowed to attack this city.”

“Wyant is correct,” agreed Rejji. “That many Motangans that close to Angragar is a disaster for us. We need to cut down their numbers before they cross the mountains.”

“What about the Valley of Bones?” asked Mobi, a Qubari tribesman “It was used effectively against Grulak and his men.”

“The Valley of Bones is not large enough to accommodate the Motangan army,” Wyant shook his head. “We trapped twenty thousand of Grulak’s men and caused the others to throw down their weapons and go home. The Motangans will not throw down their weapons and leave.”

“They mean to kill all of us,” agreed Rejji. “We can use the Valley of Bones to trim some of their numbers, but not significantly. Cardijja can afford to throw away twenty thousand men while Grulak could not.”

The room fell silent for a moment as the leaders of the free tribes tried to think of a way to battle the Motangans effectively. Yltar, the head shaman of the Qubari people eased his way to the table and stared at the map.

“We are neglecting the most important questions of all,” Yltar said softly. “Where are the Motangans heading, and how did they learn of their destination?”

“You think they are heading for Angragar?” questioned Rejji.

“They could just be following the river,” shrugged Yltar, “but then why not engage Fakarans where they found them? I believe they have a destination in mind and are anxious to reach it.”

“The only destination that would interest them is Angragar,” frowned Wyant.

“Then how did they learn of its location?” prompted Yltar.

“Why is that important?” puzzled Yojji. “If they know the location of Angragar, who cares how they found out?”

“Because Yltar thinks that they do not really know the location,” interjected Bakhai.

The shaman turned and grinned at the Astor’s brother. “You will make a fine Head Shaman one day,” he said to Bakhai. “You understand the importance of questioning all things.”

“Let me be the first to admit,” frowned Wyant, “that I have no idea what you two are talking about. Explain it so that Fakaran tribesmen can understand.”

“Let’s suppose that Cardijja thinks he knows where Angragar is,” explained Yltar. “He is moving his massive army as fast as he can towards that goal. He ignores the prods and jabs we inflict on his forces and continues to press onward.”

“That pretty much explains the behavior of his army right now,” nodded Blaka.

“Now let’s suppose that Cardijja’s information is wrong,” smiled the shaman. “Or maybe the information is merely too generalized to actually help him find his goal. Perhaps he knows that Angragar is somewhere east of the mountains and he is pushing to cross them before he engages us.”

“Are you saying that we can still mislead him after he crosses the mountains?” asked Rejji.

“Perhaps,” shrugged Yltar. “That depends upon where Cardijja received his information. If he only knows the general location of Angragar, he will once again actively engage the tribes after he crosses the mountains. He will try to chase them to see which way they go.”

“That could work to our advantage,” brightened Yojji. “We would have his armies between us and the mountains. That is a fight that the tribes would welcome.”

“Unless he truly knows where Angragar is,” frowned Rejji. “We cannot afford to wait to find out where he is heading.”

“Correct,” nodded Yltar. “Which is why we must find out what Cardijja knows.”

“And how are we going to find that out?” scowled Blaka. “Do we just send one of us down to ask him?”

The Qubari shaman did not answer. He turned and stared at Bakhai. Bakhai’s eyes opened wide in confusion as the shaman stared at him, but he finally understood what was expected of him. He inhaled deeply and nodded.

“I will go,” Bakhai announced.

The leaders of the free tribes gasped at Bakhai’s offer, but Rejji walked over to his brother and put his arm around him.

“I will send somebody with you,” whispered Rejji. “Do nothing foolish, but find out where Cardijja is heading.”

* * *

Lady Mystic and Xavo entered the harbor of Meliban. Motangan soldiers immediately began to converge on the docks with a few black cloaks taking the lead. Lady Mystic hastily wove an air tunnel and directed it towards the black cloaks. She announced who they were and nothing more before dropping the air tunnel. When they approached the dock, a soldier threw them a line and helped tie the boat to the dock. Xavo helped Lady Mystic out of the boat and then stepped to the dock himself.

“What are you two doing here?” questioned one of the black cloaks. “Where have you come from?”

“We have come from Motanga,” Lady Mystic answered. “As to what we are doing here, that is none of your business. Where is Premer Cardijja?”

“We will ask the questions,” retorted the Motangan mage. “We were informed that the elves have taken over the Island of Darkness. How is it that you two have managed to leave?”

“You are rather well informed,” frowned Xavo. “We managed to escape while Vandamar was falling. As for who is asking the questions here,” he continued with scorn, “I am a disciple of Vand. As such, I will not tolerate your attitude. What is your name?”

“I am Veritago,” the mage’s chest swelled with pride. “I am in charge of Meliban.”

“Good,” Xavo nodded curtly, “then you can escort us to our quarters. We are tired and hungry and in need of bathing.”

“First I must inform Vandegar of your presence here,” balked Veritago. “We have been instructed to inform the emperor of any significant developments.”

“You will do nothing of the kind,” scowled Lady Mystic. “Using an air tunnel over such a great distance can be disastrous. Have you not been informed of the dangers?”

“Dangers?” the mage echoed suspiciously. “We use the air tunnel all the time. What nonsense are you spouting?”

“It is obvious that the twelve mages from here never returned,” Xavo said softly to his partner. “This is most serious.”

Veritago’s eyes narrowed as he watched the two newcomers talk privately. While Xavo’s voice had been lowered to almost a whisper, the Motangan mage could hear them perfectly well.

“That explains much about their ignorance,” Lady Mystic nodded to Xavo. Raising her voice to a normal volume, she turned to gaze into Veritago’s eyes. “You will contact no one until we have talked,” she said authoritatively. “There are dangers that you are obviously unaware of. Lead the way.”

Veritago frowned with skepticism, but he turned and led the way to the Kheri Inn just across the street from the administration building. He loudly ordered two rooms for the visitors.

“Have two baths drawn,” added Xavo. “I will discuss developments with you while I bathe. There is too much danger for the news to wait too long.”

Veritago passed the order on to the Motangan innkeeper and followed Xavo up the stairs. Neither of them spoke as Xavo undressed and a soldier filled a tub with hot water. When the soldier was gone, Xavo stepped into the tub and began to wash away the salt spray encrusting his body.