Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“And not the Rican clan?” asked Lord Shamino.

“I chose not to ask them,” frowned Yenga.

“A wise move,” Lord Sevrin said softly. “I question even the invite being extended to the Seth and Disina clans.”

“I discussed it with the emperor,” shrugged Yenga. “He feels that they were manipulated by the Ricans. I tend to agree, and we need the extra men.”

“What about protecting the frontier?” asked Lord Shamino.

“The war in the Sakova is over,” smiled Yenga. “We no longer have to fear an attack from the south.” Turning to Lord Sevrin he continued, “Have you posted the mages as requested?”

“Even better than requested,” nodded Lord Sevrin. “We have at least a dozen mages spread out over the peaks of the Bear Mountains. We will be able to watch the progress of the Motangan armies across the river. There is an air hole at the back of this chamber that goes all the way to the surface. There are several mages stationed back there to relay any messages to us.”

“Excellent,” nodded Yenga. “I want hourly reports at the minimum. I also want to know the minute something unusual happens. When our time comes, there will be little of it to spare. Here come Lord Sydar and Lord Woroman. Let’s try to make them feel welcome. Past difficulties need to be put aside.”

* * *

The lords of the Lords’ Council each rode at the head of their armies as they moved north through the forest. At times the peaks of the Three Sisters could be seen towering above the sevemore trees on their right. At other times the road came close to the roaring Khadora River on their left. Nowhere along the road was there a wide expanse of open land.

The Walkan army led the procession. Only the scouts preceded Lord Chenowith and he kept the armies moving at a decent pace. His mind wandered as he thought about the emperor’s plan. He tried to envision what awaited him ahead, but he could not picture it, so he felt great anticipation when the scouts announced that the forest was about to end. Picking up the pace slightly, the Walkan lord rode forward. When he came to the edge of the forest, he halted his horse. The armies began to slow behind him, and he moved to one side and waved them onward.

Standing before the Khadoran armies was a massive cleared area. The forest had been felled in a wide swath from the base of the Three Sisters to the banks of the Khadora River. Jutting across this wide-open area was a huge earthen berm. There were three wide earthen ramps leading over the berm. The Walkan lord shook his head and stared in amazement. The defensive works were huge and must have consumed thousands of men for an extremely long period of time. He could not believe that he it had been accomplished without anyone knowing about it.

“Incredible,” commented Lord Patel as he halted alongside Lord Chenowith. “I know Marak said that he had a berm created, but I never imagined anything of this scope. How did he do it?”

“An excellent question,” replied Lord Chenowith, “seeing as we came along this road only a month ago. If someone were to ask me how long it would take to construct such a fortification, I would have said years. The Torak really must explain how he accomplished this.”

“With magic no doubt,” remarked Lord Kiamesh as he halted beside the other two lords. “It is magnificent. I can well understand the Torak’s desire to meet the Motangans here. They have a narrow path through the woods, which will clump them all up, and then this. They will not even be able to build siege engines without hampering the movement of their own troops. It is brilliant.”

“And only a small part of his plan,” added Lord Quilo as he joined the group. “I am beginning to feel optimistic about our chances for the first time. Even if everything else doesn’t come together quite right, we should be able to hold this berm for a long time.”

“Let’s get to the other side and see the guts of it,” suggested Lord Kiamesh.

“It is only fair to wait for Lord Jamarat and Lord Faliman first,” replied Lord Chenowith. “It would be good for the morale of the troops to see the Lords’ Council ride in as one.”

* * *

Fisher slid down the rope from the trap door in the roof. He landed noiselessly on the floor of the abandoned warehouse and was immediately joined by Halman and Gunta.

“The last of the Motangans have passed through,” Fisher announced. “The supply train was endless. I thought it might be morning before we had a chance to get out of here.”

“Do you think the delay will cause problems?” asked Gunta.

“I cannot say,” answered Fisher. “In any event, we had no choice. I would not dare to resurrect the bridge until the Motangans were gone. Let’s move quickly.”

The three black-clad warriors retrieved their horses and led them out of the warehouse. It was only a short distance to the river where Fisher handed his horse to Halman and walked out onto the dock. Kneeling on the dock, the spy reached under the wooden structure and grabbed a string. Holding the string tightly, he walked off the dock and along the wharf to a point near the winch. He gently pulled on the string until a sturdy rope appeared. Grabbing the rope firmly, Fisher called softly for his horse. Halman brought it to him, and Fisher tied the rope to his saddle.

“There will be two more ropes knotted to this one,” explained Fisher. “When they come up out of the river, tie them to your horses.”

Halman and Gunta nodded as Fisher led his horse forward. As the horse moved away from the river, the rope rose out of the water. Eventually it came out far enough for the Torak’s shadows to grab the two additional ropes. They untied the ropes and secured them to their horses. When the ropes were tied securely, Fisher led his horse forward to the wall of the nearest building. Set in concrete at the base of the building was a large winch. Fisher untied his rope and fed it into the winch. He turned and grinned at his partners.

“We need to light a torch to alert those on the other side of the river,” announced Fisher.

“Who is waiting over there?” asked Gunta, his eyes straining to see across the river.

“All I know is that they are friends,” shrugged Fisher. “There must be a lot of them if Marak wanted to go through all this trouble to allow them to cross.”

Halman found an old torch and brought it to life. He held it high and waved it back and forth. He watched the opposite bank closely, expecting to see a torch in reply. He was rather shocked when the voice spoke to him.

“You must be Fisher,” said the voice. “Are you ready to do what must be done?”

“I am Halman,” the shadow replied hesitantly. “We are ready to raise the bridge.”

There was a short pause without reply. Halman heard whispering and then laughing coming through the air tunnel. He frowned in confusion.

“Well, shadow of the Torak,” the voice suddenly said, “let us begin.”

Fisher shrugged with indifference as he started operating the winch. Gunta and Halman led their horses towards the building where two metal rings were imbedded in the foundation. When there was enough slack in the ropes, the shadows passed the ends through the metal rings and tied them. Fisher secured the winch, and the three Khadorans walked back to the dock to watch.

Slowly the ropes tightened as the people on the opposite shore pulled their end of the ropes. The Khadorans watched as a footbridge slowly rose out of the river. Water cascaded off the bridge, as the ropes grew taut. Suddenly figures appeared on the bridge. Halman and Gunta tensed, but Fisher merely watched with interest. Moments later the figures became identifiable. The three Khadorans bowed in respect.

“Tayo,” greeted King Avalar. “I appreciate your help in getting across the river.”