Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“Many things have happened in the past few days, Veritago,” Xavo began. “Rather than bore you with what I know, tell me what you have been informed of. I will then fill the gaps in your knowledge.”

The black cloak hesitated, but Xavo appeared so at ease that he could not imagine any subterfuge. He mentioned the most important news that he had already heard. It included the loss of Duran, the defeat of Doralin, the fall of Motanga, and Vand’s instructions to Cardijja to find Angragar.

“You are fairly well informed,” Xavo nodded when Veritago had concluded. “What is missing from your knowledge is the corruption of the air tunnel spell. While it is still useful for short distances, it is extremely unwise to use it over any great distance. The elves have found a way to spread a compulsion spell through any air tunnel that they can detect. We advised the twelve mages sent to Vandamar about this problem and sent them back here. I am concerned that they never arrived.”

“A compulsion spell?” echoed Veritago. “How does that affect us? There are no elves in Fakara.”

“There you are wrong,” Xavo shook his head. “There are elven mages attached to each of our enemies’ armies. Did you not know that the elven princesses actually were raised here on the mainland?”

“I had heard that,” nodded Veritago, “but I thought they had fled to Elvangar.”

“Fled?” balked Xavo. “One can hardly accuse them of fleeing when they have just recently conquered the Island of Darkness.”

“Maybe so,” replied Veritago, skepticism still evident in his voice, “but we are still under orders to inform Vand of any major happenings.”

“Then you must do so,” shrugged Xavo as he watched the mage’s demeanor soften.

“Then I will do so immediately,” declared Veritago as he rose and turned to leave the room.

“You are going yourself?” Xavo said with shock. “I cannot imagine that you would not send someone else. Who will be in charge of Meliban while you are away?”

“Away?” questioned Veritago. “What do you mean away?”

“Well,” Xavo shook his head in confusion, “I just explained why you must not use an air tunnel over such a great distance. Word of our arrival must be sent to Vand the old-fashioned way. Someone will have to go to Vandegar. I did not think that you would actually go yourself.”

“Travel to Vandegar?” balked the mage. “You can’t be serious? Do you know how far that is?”

“I have been there,” smiled Xavo. “It is an impressive temple, much larger than the one in Vandamar.”

“You have been to Vandegar?” Veritago asked with suspicion. He knew that Xavo had not been to the mainland since the invasion began. “Before the invasion?”

“Quite a bit before the invasion,” nodded Xavo. “You seem surprised. Did you think that one became a disciple of Vand merely for being a good mage? I have served Vand in many ways, most of which you will never hear about.”

“I was unaware,” replied Veritago with genuine awe. Only spies and assassins had been allowed to leave the Island of Darkness before the invasion. The mage suddenly had a newfound level of respect for Xavo. The revelation lent great credibility to Xavo’s knowledge and words.

“I suggest that you send a man of lesser importance than yourself,” smiled Xavo, feeling that he had finally set the hook. “Or you could just let Lady Mystic and me deliver the news. We are heading for Vandegar in the morning.”

“You are going to Vandegar?” inquired Veritago. “The trip is not safe. Cardijja lost fifty thousand men getting the emperor to Vandegar, and I cannot afford to offer you troops. Our soldiers are needed to guard the caravans going to Premer Cardijja.”

“We will not need troops to escort us,” Xavo waved off the suggestion. “It is important that the emperor get news of this air tunnel danger. Somebody must deliver the word, and it is important enough that I feel a personal need to do it.”

“And what should I do when Vandegar contacts me?” frowned Veritago. “They do so on a daily basis.”

“Do not answer the calls,” warned Xavo as he stepped from the tub and began drying himself. “While they may get angry with you right now, I will explain the situation when I arrive in Vandegar. The danger of someone in Vandegar falling under an elven compulsion spell is too severe to be taken lightly.”

* * *

Xavo and Lady Mystic rode out of Meliban early in the morning. They did not speak until they were well away from the city.

“It has been a long time since I rode,” commented Lady Mystic, “and even that was just for sport. How far is Vandegar?”

“It doesn’t matter,” shrugged Xavo, “we are not going there. For either of us to show our faces at Vandegar would be suicide right now.”

“Then what are we doing in Fakara?” scowled Lady Mystic. “I would have preferred to stay on the island over this despicable wasteland.”

“We will go to Vandegar eventually,” soothed Xavo, “but we cannot just yet. Vand must be desperate for allies before we attempt to show our faces there. In the meantime, we will do our best to make him desperate.”

“And how do we do that?” asked Lady Mystic. “By stealing two of his precious horses?”

“I didn’t steal them,” grinned Xavo. “Veritago freely offered them. I think he was relieved that we had offered to go to Vandegar so that he didn’t have to sacrifice any of his men.”

“I am sure,” chuckled Lady Mystic. “And just what did you tell him last night? His attitude changed dramatically.”

“That is not important,” shrugged Xavo. “What is important is the level of supplies present in Meliban. I thought there would be much less than what I saw walking around the city last night. Cardijja has been wise in loading up on supplies and not depending on regular shipments from Duran.”

“Yet he had sent ships to Duran for more supplies,” Lady Mystic pointed out. “Why if he was not in need of them?”

“Need is relative,” replied Xavo. “When you have three major armies drawing on the same supply depot, a wise man anticipates shortages. I think Cardijja complained about shortages in order to build his own supply depot in Meliban. We must do something about that.”

“You want the two of us to attack Meliban?” frowned Lady Mystic. “Inconceivable. In addition to ten thousand soldiers, there were more than a hundred mages there. Do not get cocky, Xavo. We are mortal.”

“Very mortal,” nodded Xavo. “I do not plan to take on the whole Motangan army, but I did find out the route that the caravans use. If we can attack them before they reach Cardijja’s men, we can accomplish something useful while we wait for the right opportunity to go to Vandegar.”

“It would be nice if we could get the tribes to attack Meliban,” mused Lady Mystic. “Do you know how to contact the Fakarans?”

“No,” Xavo shook his head, “but I can contact Emperor Marak. He will know how to reach the Fakarans. I doubt that they know of the amount of supplies in Meliban. If they did, they would have destroyed the city already.”

“Let’s get further away before we do that,” suggested Lady Mystic. “The Fakarans are just as likely to kill us as anyone else. I doubt they would even give us time to talk our way out of an attack.”

“You are more right than you know,” sighed Xavo. “To the tribes, we are just another couple of black cloaks. Perhaps we should find something else to wear. I could pass myself off as a trader and you as my wife.”

“Now that sounds interesting,” grinned Lady Mystic.

* * *

“All of the bridges over the rivers have been destroyed,” reported General Chen. “Our position is untenable. The Khadorans have hundreds of siege engines pounding our armies from across the Khadora River. We have to pull back until we can determine a way across the river.”