Robert Newcomb - A March into Darkness

As the water rose from the lake bed, Tristan was stunned to see that it was indeed keeping its shape. Its inner border matched the fortress walls, while its outer border conformed to the lakeshore boundaries. Not only were thousands of tons of water being lifted into the air, but also everything it contained. Without warning, the mystics allowed wounded shrews, rocks, fish, and water vegetation to go crashing back to the empty lake bed. As the oddly shaped ring of water rose toward the Recluse’s wall tops, Tristan smiled as he watched Serena’s stunned consuls and Valrenkians leave their posts and run for their lives.

Soon Tristan saw the suspended lake water surrounding the Recluse turn dark red. The crimson liquid was stunning as it twinkled with the craft and literally hung there in space. Now there was only one more thing to be done.

Tristan looked over at Wigg to see that the First Wizard’s face had reddened mightily from the strain, and that his entire body was shaking. Then he saw Wigg partly relax. Tristan knew that without the First Wizard’s powers, Faegan, Aeolus, and Jessamay would be working harder to keep the lake aloft, but it couldn’t be helped. As Wigg pointed his arms toward the Recluse and brought the final part of the spell, Tristan again looked toward the hovering body of water.

With a thunderous crash, the lake water exploded.

Crystalline beads of sticky, red water burst forth in every direction, flooding the Recluse walls and deluging the sky. The red drops flew high and wide, bathing everything they touched in their crimson embrace.

When Tristan saw thousands of red shapes suddenly leave untouched spots behind on the walls, he knew that his mystics had succeeded. Because the endowed water landed atop the creatures’ skin, even if their color changed they would still be seen. Unfazed, the thousands of red flying creatures did their duty to the Vagaries, and started hurtling through the sky toward Tristan’s forces.

At last! Tristan rejoiced. We can finally meet them on equal terms!

He lowered his spyglass and trained it on the battlefield. Following Tristan’s orders, Rafe’s riders were well out ahead of the low-flying Minions and the warriors charging on foot. Tristan’s plan called for the highlander riders to charge directly through the spaces between the shrews’ undisciplined ranks and kill as many as possible on the first pass. Those shrews still alive would be dealt with by the warriors on foot, while those higher up would busy themselves with the red creatures. Tristan held his breath as the two opposing forces on the ground and in the air rushed toward each other.

One hundred meters, he thought. Seventy…forty…ten…

With a thunderous clash, the two armies tore into each other.

Hanging sideways from their saddles, Rafe’s highlanders courageously threaded their charging mounts among the onrushing shrews and launched arrow after arrow at the snarling beasts. Hundreds of shrews went crashing to the earth. Then more fell, and more after that. By the time they reached the warriors, their ranks had thinned. As the highlanders rode thorough the ragged ends of the shrew lines, they reclaimed their saddles and wheeled their horses around. Waving their sabers this time, they charged to attack the beasts from the rear.

As the remaining shrews met the warriors, the Minions on the ground started hacking into the beasts. Grateful that the first part of his plan was succeeding, Tristan turned his attention to the air campaign.

Because the airborne warriors could finally see their opponents, they could fight them in earnest. Soon dead envelopers and warriors started falling from the sky to oftentimes crash haphazardly atop the Minions and the shrews fighting below them. Sometimes only clothing, weapons, and wet bones fell, marking the death of another warrior. Soon the battlefield was strewn with carnage of every conceivable kind.

As Tristan watched the battle unfold, his right hand tightened around the spyglass. He longed to be with his forces. He could feel theK’Shari Forestallment calling out to him, demanding to be used. But he knew that for now his place was on the bow of theTammerland, overseeing the battle. Taking a deep breath, he lowered the spyglass and turned to look at the worried Conclave members. Now there was nothing to do but wait, and see which way the tide of battle turned.

The massive carnage would go on for three more hours. In the end, the Conclave forces would triumph. As Tristan watched his bloodied warriors and highlanders return from the battlefield, he closed his eyes in gratitude.

But he knew that even now it wasn’t over. Although Serena’s forces had been weakened, he had every confidence that she had kept some in reserve for a last-ditch effort to defend her child. He was sure of it, because it was what he would have done. Worse, Serena’s mystics and Valrenkians probably outnumbered his mystics. Even so, there was no time to lose.

As soon as theJin’Sai could regroup his tired army, he would attack the Recluse for the final time. They would either take it, or die trying.

“YOU FOOLS!” SERENA SHOUTED ANGRILY. “HOW DAREyou suggest that the Recluse is impregnable? Didn’t you see what happened out there this morning? We grow weaker while the Conclave grows stronger!”

As she paced the confines of her sumptuous chambers, the Vagaries queen was beside herself with rage. She turned to look at Dagmar. The handmaiden sat in a chair on the room’s other side, suckling Clarice. The loving scene softened the queen’s expression briefly, but she soon turned back to again glare at her contrite servants.

The Conclave’s idea to mark her envelopers had been completely unexpected. Einar and Reznik had not been able to devise a way to remove the red stain from the creatures’ skins. From this day forward the envelopers would be prime targets for theJin’Sai ’s troops.

Worse, more than half of Serena’s envelopers and shrews had been killed in the latest attack. Although the Conclave’s losses had also been heavy, she correctly guessed that they were not as serious as hers. But Serena still held several tactical advantages.

Einar and Reznik were partly right-the Recluse would be exceedingly difficult to conquer. As far as she knew, there were no ways in or out through the castle’s lower regions. The walls were more than three feet thick, making them nearly impervious to attack. And although the water surrounding the Recluse was gone, the wide, muddy lake bottom that had been left behind would be very difficult to slog across on foot.

She also knew that each of the Black Ships was too large to set down in the castle outer ward. The Black Ships could bring the remaining Minion warriors near so that they could try to fly over the walls. But for theJin’Sai ’s mystics to effectively use their gifts against her, they would eventually have to put the ships at rest. From the guard paths she had watched the Conclave mystics dig the ships’ earthen cradles. The technique was clever, but would be very time-consuming to perform while under attack. Should the Conclave try to do it near the castle, her consuls would quickly take advantage of their vulnerability and strike down on them from above.

“With all due respect, Your Grace, there are two things regarding Clarice that need our attention,” Einar said, interrupting her thoughts.

Serena narrowed her eyes and looked at her lead consul. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“First, we must remove the spell that you conjured about Clarice after your tragic miscarriage. As I recall, it was designed to preserve her body while we furthered our research. Now that she is reborn, keeping it in place might harm her.”

Serena nodded. “Very well,” she said. “What is your second suggestion?”