Robert Newcomb - Rise of the Blood Royal

Suddenly Vespasian heard a great noise and turned to look. The Bedevilers seem unusually ill-tempered today, he thought. Smiling, he watched the great beasts that stood harnessed to the larger carts, impatiently waiting as the carts were filled.

Bedevilers were massive creatures that had been conjured by thePon Q’tar to serve a variety of wartime purposes. Standing ten meters tall, each creature stood upon four huge cloven hooves. Their powerful legs allowed them to run swiftly if need be and to move great loads. They possessed dark, shaggy bodies that were stout and powerful, and they had thick, bull-like necks. Their wide heads were also bovine in nature, with long black horns and dark eyes set far apart. Another long, sharp horn meant for stabbing enemy troops and throwing them into the air extended from either side of the beasts’ pink snouts.

Bulls were revered in Rustannica for their strength, loyalty, and fertility, and sacrificing one to the Vagaries was considered a sacred rite. It was for those same qualities that thePon Q’tar chose bulls as the template for these creatures that served the mighty legions so well. Each Bedeviler carried a roofed wooden platform strapped to its wide back. Each platform could accommodate ten legionnaires or mystic tribunes at one time. Huge leather bridles adorned the Bedevilers’ heads, the reins leading back to the legionnaire controlling the great beast from the protection of the roofed platform.

Vespasian smiled as he watched the nearest team of Bedevilers snort and paw at the ground while they waited for their cart to be loaded. They could be impatient, ill-tempered beasts and quite difficult to control. Each Bedeviler had one mystic master who oversaw its training and use, and several lesser legionnaires who saw to its care and feeding. Aside from being the perfect beasts of burden, Bedevilers also provided excellent platforms from which legionnaires could hurl azure bolts or use the craft to shoot perfectly aimed arrows.

Their tough hides nearly impervious to any weapon other than one born of the craft, the beasts had been known to charge through Shashidan forces with abandon, causing havoc and crushing katsugai mosota by the scores in their wakes, thereby earning their names. If needed, they could be relied on to mow down trees as they cleared pathways for Vespasian’s foot soldiers. They were highly valuable tools of war and perfectly suited to the task of hauling the captured Shashidan gold toward the waiting portals. As he stood watching them, for the thousandth time Vespasian found himself glad that they were not servants of the Shashidan cohorts.

Again opening the diptych, Vespasian took another glance at the gold tally inscribed at the bottom of the single beeswax page. His legions had been at the task for but one day and half of the next, but the tonnage was already huge, most of it safely in Ellistium’s coffers and loyally guarded by Flavius Maximus and his home legions. Balancing his nation’s pecuniary needs against the greater objective, Vespasian made a fateful decision. He handed the diptych back to Lucius.

“I will permit the legionnaires to harvest gold for the rest of today and all of tomorrow,” Vespasian told Lucius. “When dawn rises the day after next, I want this entire army ready to move. Whatever gold has been sent home by then will simply have to suffice.”

“As you order, my liege,” Lucius answered. He gave his friend and emperor a wry smile. “May the First Tribune inquire as to our new destination?”

Vespasian thought somberly for a moment before answering.

“Order thePon Q’tar to prepare portal calculations that will transport our army onto the flat plains south of here, near where the Alarik again divides,” Vespasian answered. “From there we advance on Ryoto. The attack will be risky, but there might never again come such an excellent chance to kill all the Shashidan leaders and theJin’Sai at the same time.”

As Vespasian’s eyes again scanned the snowy peaks that so worried him, his expression darkened further.

“My heart tells me that Tristan is plotting with theInkai, ” he said softly. “Since the days that we were born, our meeting was meant to be. Let us finally make it so.”

PULLING HER STRONG WINGS THROUGH THE EVENINGair, Sigrid soared eastward high above Eutracia. The night was clear, allowing her an excellent view of the ground below. Perhaps more than any other Minion, she was the one most eager to begin this fight. More important, she considered it her personal mission to ensure that Valda and the twenty-eight other members of the Night Witch patrol she once commanded had not died in vain. Our revenge will be sweet, she thought as her dark eyes scanned the Sippora River slipping by beneath her.

Despite her broken arm, soon after she reported back from the slaughter in Tanglewood she had begged Traax for command of another Night Witch group. Traax had agreed heartily, adding that although her group had perished, no one considered her personally responsible for the defeat. In fact, her service and bravery had been exemplary, he said. It was because of these qualities that she had been given the honor of leading this vastly important war party through the night. Although her fellow Minions saw her as a hero, Sigrid did not share that opinion. For her, this new command was a rare opportunity to redeem her honor, and she would sooner die than waste it.

Looking rearward, she saw her twenty-nine new Night Witches steadfastly following her. Rather than accept command of an established group, Sigrid had requested only Minion females whose specialized Night Witch training was still incomplete, so that she might mold them to her liking. After Traax granted her request, Sigrid hand-picked the twenty-nine who would become hers. Despite her injured arm, Sigrid had been training these women since the Tanglewood slaughter, and they were ready to serve. Sigrid had learned much from that fight, and in some ways her new group was superior to the one she lost. Their new war cry “Remember Tanglewood!” was heard each time her group took to the skies and went on patrol.

Show yourself, Khristos, she thought as the cool evening air rushed past her face. This time you will not find my warriors to be such easy prey.

Half the entire Minion force followed her lead, six of them carrying a litter bearing Shailiha, Faegan, and Traax. Determined never to make the same mistake again, Shailiha ordered that Aeolus, Duvessa, Sister Adrian, all the consuls and acolytes, and the other half of the Minion force remain behind to guard the palace and the Redoubt. They would be sorely missed in the coming fight, but every Conclave member had agreed with the princess’s decision.

Gambling that Khristos and his vipers were heading toward the coast, the war party had left the palace two hours ago to fly east, following the course of the Sippora River. In truth the Conclave could not know the enemy’s position. But if Khristos and his forces wished to remain unseen, they had no choice but to remain submerged in the Sippora.

That left the Viper Lord only three options. He could remain in the river, he could head upstream and deeper into Eutracia, or he could head downstream toward the sea. Staying in place seemed unlikely, for Khristos surely knew that the section of river where the recent fighting had taken place would be swarming with Minion warriors desperate to kill him and his followers. The enemy might proceed upriver, but Traax had wisely ordered several thousand of his troops to swoop low over the river and continuously dredge its bottom with weighted nets. Khristos could easily use the craft to destroy the nets, the Conclave realized, but if he did, they would know it, and Shailiha’s war party could be called home to deal with him there.