Robert Newcomb - A March into Darkness

Wigg squatted to look at the dead beast. After a time, he stood and walked to Tristan.

“I have never seen one of these,” he said. “It deserves further examination.”

“First things first,” Tyranny interjected. “How much longer can you and the others keep the Black Ships hovering?”

“For a few more hours, at best,” Wigg answered calmly.

“What?” Tyranny exclaimed. “The only known body of water large enough to accommodate all the Black Ships is Dark Lagoon, and that’s hours away!” Shaking her head, she snorted a laugh down her nose. “I suppose we could put them all down atop the lake surrounding the Recluse,” she suggested sarcastically. “But I doubt that Serena would approve! So what do you expect us to do?”

“Don’t fret,” Wigg said. “I know of an appropriate spell that will help us. It was formulated three centuries ago, as the ships were being designed. I didn’t suggest it sooner because I wasn’t sure whether Tristan was going to order the ships to attack the Recluse. When Faegan, Jessamay, and Aeolus see what we’re doing, they will follow suit.”

Tyranny folded her arms across her chest. “Then I suggest that you get on with it!” she ordered. “This I have to see!”

As Wigg walked to the starboard gunwale he brusquely ordered the warriors out of his way. Curious, Shailiha walked to stand beside Tristan and Tyranny.

“What is he going to do?” she asked. Tristan just looked at his sister and shook his head.

Looking over the side of the ship, Wigg raised his arms. At once bolts loosed from his hands to fly toward the ground. All the Conclave members walked closer to watch.

As Wigg’s bolts struck the earth, great mounds of soil exploded into the air. On and on the process went, until Tristan guessed what the wizard was doing. He smiled as he watched, knowing that Tyranny and Shailiha still hadn’t grasped the concept.

Wigg finally finished his task and lowered his hands. Everyone could see that the stress of keeping the massive ship airborne and performing his strange digging had exhausted him. But if Tristan was right, there was only one more thing for Wigg to do, and then he could rest.

Raising his arms again, Wigg strengthened his spell over the ship. TheTammerland started moving. But rather than rise higher into the air, she kept her altitude and drifted to port. Tristan again looked over the side of the ship to see that he had been right. Wigg had used the craft to dig a deep cradle in the earth that perfectly matched the shape of theTammerland ’s hull.

Wigg slowly lowered his hands. TheTammerland descended, and her hull lowered ponderously into the earthen cradle. Her timbers creaked as she shifted; then she finally settled to a perfect level both forward to aft, and bow to stern.

“We used this technique to great effect during the Sorceresses’ War,” Wigg said. “Sometimes we would burn away small stretches of forest, then dig these cradles and lower the ships into them. The surrounding foliage served as wonderful hiding places when the Coven’s forces were on the march.”

“Well I’ll be!” Tyranny said. “Well done, First Wizard.”

Just then they heard more explosions, and they turned to look. As Wigg had promised, Aeolus, Faegan, and Jessamay were doing the same thing. Soon all four Black Ships had settled into their forgiving earthen cradles.

Tristan looked over at Traax. “I want patrols sent aloft at once,” he ordered. “And ring all four ships with ground troops. If the slightest threat is noticed, alert me immediately.”

Traax came to attention and clicked his heels. “I live to serve,” he answered. He hurried away to give the orders.

As Traax walked off, Tristan returned the spyglass to his eye and gazed at the Recluse. Because he was already familiar with shrews from his previous visits to Parthalon, he was far more worried about the new creatures that Serena had conjured.

The unexpected creatures’ abilities to camouflage themselves would greatly impede his attempt to take the Recluse. If their numbers were strong enough, sailing the ships over the Recluse walls might be impossible. And he had already seen the results when he had attacked with a small force. Wigg had cautioned against a full frontal attack, and at first Tristan had agreed. But now he wasn’t so sure. They had just proven that sending forces against the Recluse piecemeal was suicide. What he needed was to find another way in, but there wasn’t one.

As he scanned the fortress an idea formed in his mind. Lowering the spyglass, he looked down at the deck, thinking. He knew his concept had merit, but he would need advice from his mystics before deciding. He turned to look at Tyranny.

“Order Faegan, Aeolus, and Jessamay aboard,” he said. “Bring them and Traax to the meeting room. We need to talk.” He pointed to the dead creature on the deck. “And have them bring that disgusting thing along,” he added.

Without further ado he led his remaining Conclave members aft, then down the stern stairway to await the others.

“YOU CAN PROPOSE THE SAME THEORY ONE HUNDREDtimes more, but our answer will still be the same,” Wigg said to Tristan. “You idea is sound, I’ll grant you that. But we just can’t find a way to make it work.”

All of the Conclave members sat around a table in the stern meeting room of theTammerland. They had been discussing the taking of the Recluse for the last two hours. They all agreed that Tristan’s idea had promise. But as Wigg said, it seemed impossible to carry out.

Tristan understood that the gravest threat to an attack on the Recluse were the new creatures at Serena’s command, and their unusual ability to camouflage themselves. Traax had agreed. But he had also suggested that unless the beings’ numbers were overwhelming, they might be conquered if only they could be seen. Sadly, an examination of the dead creature Traax brought back to the ship had revealed little about its endowed workings.

Tristan’s idea was simple in concept. If Serena’s flying creatures could be covered with some form of substance, then they could be seen, allowing the Minions and highlanders to attack them on equal terms. The prince had hoped that his mystics could somehow provide a way to do that. But after two hours, they were still searching for an answer.

Worse, even if they could overcome Serena’s servants and get close to the Recluse, they still had to find a way in. Soaring over the walls was probably the only option. But Serena’s consuls would without doubt be stationed atop those walls and would use the craft against them-probably in the form of azure bolts. If any of the mystics empowering the ships were killed, then his or her vessel would crash, and perhaps never rise again.

Faegan placed his hands flat atop the table, thinking. “The first problem with Tristan’s idea is securing enough of some substance to cover all of Serena’s flying beasts,” he said. “And that is further complicated by the fact that we have no real idea how many of them exist. Those that killed the warriors this morning might have been only a smattering of the total number. Worse, getting the stuff close to the Recluse would be impossible without being attacked again. And even then the substance would have to be somehow spread out in a huge, high pattern, because we cannot see the enemy. We could hope that they might fly through it and thereby reveal their forms, but that is highly doubtful. There are simply too many variables that remain unaccounted for.”

Tristan watched Shailiha picked up her wineglass and thoughtfully roll it between her palms. He knew that look-he had seen it all of his life.

“What is it?” he asked. “Do you have an idea?”