Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

The premer did not wait for a reply. He turned and entered his tent. General Luggar walked to a group of runners stationed nearby. He issued orders that would implement the premer’s commands. He left it up to the individual generals to determine which troops would be forced to stand sentry and which would be allowed to sleep.

For the next two hours, General Luggar walked around the encampment making sure that the premer’s orders had been carried out. Eventually he was pleased with the preparations and confident in his belief that the Fakarans would not return before morning. He returned to his resurrected tent and went to sleep.

When the attacks came an hour later, they were not from the same directions as the previous attacks. The Jiadin came from the southeast, Yojji’s men charged from southwest, and Adger’s troops attacked from the northeast. Despite all the preparations, the Motangans were unprepared for the changes in direction. Once again the Motangan encampment was invaded and destroyed as the three cavalries crisscrossed the camp.

While the second attack was more costly to the Fakarans in terms of casualties, it broke the morale of the Motangan troops. The tired and injured Motangans remained awake for the rest of the night, waiting for the next wave of Fakaran horsemen.

* * *

Emperor Vand entered the throne room of the temple at Vandegar. His eyes narrowed as he watched Premer Tzargo and the mage, Pakar, talking softly near the door. They were so absorbed in their conversation that neither of them had noticed the emperor enter the room. Vand walked to his throne and sat down. Clearing his throat loudly, he glared at the two men. Premer Tzargo bowed low towards the emperor while Pakar hurried across the floor to take his place with the other eleven mages assigned to guard the emperor.

“You have something to report?” Vand scowled at Tzargo.

The premer nodded and marched across the room to stand in front of the emperor. He bowed again and waited for permission to speak.

“Report,” scowled Vand.

“I was just informed of a battle in Khadora,” Tzargo swallowed hard. “The report came from the force under Premer Shamal’s command.”

“Yes, yes,” the emperor snapped impatiently. “Tell me what is significant about this report. Has Shamal conquered the country?”

“I do not know,” frowned Premer Tzargo. “The report was sent as the battle was beginning. It occurred somewhere between Sintula and Chantise.”

“Then Sintula has fallen?” asked the emperor.

“It would appear so,” Tzargo said hesitantly.

“It would appear so?” mocked the emperor. “Is it too much to ask to have decent reports on my armies? Pakar!”

The black-cloak hurried across the floor and stood beside the premer. He bowed low in a sign of ultimate respect and then rose to look into the emperor’s eyes.

“The mages under Premer Shamal have been negligent in their reporting,” Pakar offered, knowing that his words would cause some deaths among his confederates. Vand did not stand for incompetence and his punishment was a humiliating death. “We should have had a report when Sintula fell, but none arrived. The fact that Shamal’s army was already north of Sintula declares that the Khadoran city must have fallen.”

“I do not want your suppositions,” scowled Vand. “I want the reports from the people in the field. When I want an analysis, I will ask for one. Now, leave me and get a thorough report on Shamal’s victories.”

“We have been trying for some time to contact him,” replied Pakar. “We have been unable to contact a single mage under Premer Shamal.”

“What are you saying?” frowned the emperor. “Are you trying to make me believe that the Khadorans defeated Shamal? That is preposterous. Go and get me my reports.”

“If the emperor will allow my thoughts?” Pakar asked hesitantly.

Vand sighed with frustration and shook his head, but he waved his hand in a show of permission for the mage to speak.

“We have had a communication from Meliban,” declared the black-cloak. “I think it is of great interest and may reveal another reason why Shamal might not be able to communicate.”

“Proceed,” ordered the emperor, his curiosity aroused.

“Two mages arrived in Meliban from Vandamar,” stated Pakar. “They spoke with great authority and warned against any use of the air tunnel spell. They informed our people in Meliban that the air tunnel was corrupt. They said that the elves had found a way to weave a compulsion spell through the air tunnel and that using it over any distance would be dangerous. They even demanded that our calls to Meliban not be answered. It was only after I threatened to go there and kill them that they finally picked up the air tunnel.”

“And what is the importance of this?” Vand asked. He thought he understood where Pakar was going, but he wanted nothing left unsaid.

“If the same rumor was spread in Khadora,” reasoned Pakar, “Shamal’s mages would be afraid to contact us for fear of jeopardizing your safety. I do not know if this is the case, but it is a possibility that we must consider.”

“Then you were wise to bring it to my attention, Pakar,” nodded the emperor.

“Perhaps we should send some of Premer Tzargo’s men over the Fortung Mountains to investigate,” suggested Pakar.

“Are you so easily convinced that the elves can corrupt the air tunnel spell?” inquired the emperor.

“No,” Pakar shook his head, “I am not convinced at all. In fact, I see no possibility of that happening. There would have to be an elf at one of the ends of the air tunnel. If it were broken anywhere else, both mages would feel the disruption. I believe this to be a story made up to limit our communications. The enemy wants to blind us to what they are doing.”

“Well reasoned,” smiled the emperor. “Who were these traitors who spread the false tales of the corrupted air tunnels?”

Pakar bit his lip and hesitated just a moment too long. The emperor’s demeanor instantly changed to darkness as he detected the mage’s hesitation. As Vand’s mouth opened to scold the mage, Pakar spit out the answer.

“It was Xavo and Lady Mystic,” Pakar said hurriedly. “They claimed to be coming here with word about the corruption. That is why the mages in Meliban felt at ease with not answering our calls.”

“Xavo?” echoed the emperor with disbelief. “Did he not accompany us here? Who gave him leave to return to Vandamar?”

“He did not come with us,” frowned Pakar. “I assumed that his orders were to stay there.”

Vand seethed at Xavo’s betrayal. The mage had been afforded the highest position for his loyalty, and his duplicity stung the emperor. Vand’s mind shifted to his daughter, and suddenly he nodded to himself. His rebel daughter had managed to seduce another mage to help her in her attempt to seek revenge. Vand vowed that she would not live to see her goal.

“Contact Meliban,” commanded the emperor. “I want both Xavo and Lady Mystic brought to me here in Vandegar. I do not care what condition they arrive in, as long as they still breath. Their deaths will be an event to be watched by all.”

“They are no longer in Meliban,” Pakar said softly. “They left days ago. They should have been here by now.”

Vand’s gaze narrowed as he tried to imagine what the duo would be doing in Fakara. For several long moments, a silence hung over the chamber. Eventually Vand locked eyes with Pakar. He spoke calmly and softly, but no one could mistake the tinge of hatred in his voice.

“Send word to everyone under my command,” instructed the emperor. “Xavo and Lady Mystic are traitors. They are to be apprehended in any conceivable way, as long as they arrive in Vandegar alive. The reward for their capture will be unlimited bounty and status.”