aThey sit, they wait,a Thad said, addressing the officers, who were gathered around the Council Chambers. aOf course they stop the flow of convoys along the major roads nearby, but thatas to be expected. We canat see them, of course, but you know theyall have taken all the grain thatas being shipped through the crossroad north of here.a Alaric watched Thad from behind templed hands, as always. This time was different, Vara thought, in that the Ghostas brow was stitched together like storm clouds on the horizon, as though thunderheads were bound to streak down his face and unleash fury on the first poor bastard to cross before him. aEvery day they hold the crossroads is another day they hold the Plains of Perdamun in their grip, another day closer to the harvest, another day closer to the eventual starving of Reikonos.a aAre we actively rooting for Reikonos now?a Erith said, causing everyone to turn and look at her. aI mean, I know weare sympathetic to the humans, but the Confederation and the Council of Twelve? Bumbling idiots. They did want this war, after all.a aThe city of Reikonos is the largest in Arkaria with over two million people,a Alaric said. aShould the dark elves take it, they will not be merciful to the occupantsa"or the human race.a aOh, so we are rooting for the Council of Twelve,a Erith said, not chagrined. aOkay, well, thatas good to know.a aPersonally, Iam more worried about me, then the rest of you, then our members, then the applicants, and somewhere down the list, the flower garden,a Vaste said. aIall worry about Reikonos and the rest of the human race when the destruction of all of the above is not hanging over my head. Especially the flowers because theyare so pretty.a aWhat chance do we have to push them back?a Ryin asked, turning his question to Thad. aA hundred thousand or more, yes? How do we break an army of that size? How many would we need to do it?a aMore than we have,a Alaric said. aI suspect that they will not be driven away as easily as they were the first time now that they have reinforcements. We can defend the walls against that number by keeping them at bay, but by bottling us up, they achieve their directivea"they hold total control over the plains. There is no way we can effectively guard against the predations of their soldiers against the farms without being able to move our army to do so.a aPerhaps we cannot control the Plains of Perdamun while they have us cornered so,a Vara said, speaking at last, abut we can give them pause and keep them from extending that control.a Alaricas eyebrow came up behind his hands. aYou mean to fight a small war, to distract them, to split their forces.a aYes,a she said. aI mean to take a small force and do what they accused us of two years agoa"find their convoys of stolen goods and strike them, then teleport back here with the spoils. Theyall be forced to move soldiers off the line of siege to escort the convoys, and as we move closer to harvest time that will be a larger and larger group necessary to keep them safe. With a druid and a wizard weall be able to teleport out of trouble before any army can reach us, and we can cause enough trouble and discord north of here to force them to keep splitting their forces.a aI like it,a Vaste said, nodding his head at a sideways angle. aIt almost sounds like something that could really work, as though perhaps it had been done at some point in the recent past.a aIt seems a shame to let our enemies have all the fun,a Vara said archly, aseeing as when Goliath and the goblins tried it, it worked very effectively at keeping all parties concerned fully off balance.a aYes, and also prompted every power in the area to send in more troops,a Ryin said. aWhatas to stop the Sovereign from doing so again?a aJust package up another division or five and throw them into the Plains of Perdamun?a Thad asked. aThe Sovereign has to be reaching a limit at some point. There are only so many able-bodied dark elven men still living in Saekaj. Sooner or later, the Sovereign will run dry of forces. He canat maintain any semblance of a line south of Reikonos, keep armies on the eastern frontiers with the Northlands and the Riverlands to keep them from interfering with his siege of Reikonos, and still keep the River Perda buttoned up the way he does while sending fifty or a hundred thousand more troops to the Plains of Perdamun. Something will give.a aAnd let us hope it is not our walls, and our forces, and our flowers,a Vaste said.

aSo we send a force?a Ryin asked, looking around, as though gauging the response around the table. aWe do what the goblins did to us, raid the transports of the dark elves, wreck their convoys and cause them to spread out their forces, pull them from here?a aIt does seem somehow fitting,a Alaric said from behind his hands, athat the war started in that very way, and now we return to the beginning for our own purposes. Vara, since it is your idea, I would ask you to spearhead this attack force. No more than a hundred at any given time are to go with you, and no fewer than three spellcasters with the ability to cast a teleportation spell to return you here. I will not have us lose people to mere accidents. Keep a wary eye around you, even if you travel at night, and be certain to be doubly careful so as to avoid ambushes. The dark elves will not long tolerate us raiding the fruits of their thievery.a Alaric smiled and the hands came down. aI do appreciate the irony, though; they steal from local farmers, and we proceed to steal it back for our own purposes.a aYes, it is somewhat delicious, isnat it?a Vaste asked. aItas like pounding your enemies as if they were mutton and then licking the tears off of their faces.a There was an uncomfortable silence. aOh, as though none of you have ever done that.a aWhere are you going to begin?a Erith asked, looking to Vara. aThe Plains of Perdamun are huge, and traversing the whole thing, even with all the portals available to youa"I mean, the Sovereign will have sent out wagons by the hundreds to collect the bounty of the plains.a aWe start in the north,a Vara said, and she felt her mind harden in resolution. aNear Prehorta, the closest to their home and where theyall be paying the least attention. Then weall move west, toward the river and then aa She felt a thin, malicious smile crease her lips, and she wondered idly if it stole the color from them when she did it. aIf we do this right, weall keep them rather busy aa

Chapter 58.

Cyrus The tent was stuffed, filled to the brimming with servants and clingers-on for both Syloreas and Actaluere. The men from Syloreas were big, of course, the rough and marked sort whom Cyrus had come to expect, with their beards and long hair and fierce looks. There were not many useless, effete ones surrounding Briyce Unger, but the few there were made up for the lack with annoying precision.

The men from Actaluere, on the other hand, were swarthier, smaller on the whole, and reminded Cyrus of the men who worked the docks in Reikonos before the dark elves had moved in and taken over the labor force there. Their hair was short, the fighters were easy to tell from the talkersa"and there were talkers aplenty who had come with Milos Tiernan.

Cyrus sat on a cloth stool that had been provided for him by one of the talkers of the Actaluere delegation. It was a small thing, annoying in its way, and it made him yearn to stand, especially now that the most troubling aftereffects of his injury had passed. Every eye in the tent was on him, and he had just finished speaking about the bodies, the ones that had come down the stream while he had been there beside it only the night before.

aYouall forgive me, Lord Davidon,a Milos Tiernan said, a slight grimace on his face, as though the very news pained him, abut a how many bodies were there?a aMore than I care to count,a Cyrus said. aI stopped trying after thirty.a aAnd they were men of Syloreas?a Tiernan asked, couching his words in a tone that sounded uncomfortable to Cyrus.

aSo it would seem,a Unger said. aI looked them over when Lord Davidonas people came for me. They look like village folk from the foothills, judging by the goatskin clothing. I would presume that they washed down after their village had been wiped out.a aFair to say.a Cyrus stood, hearing the clink of his armor, unable to bear sitting any longer, not on the tiny stool. aThe scourge is sweeping out of the mountains it seems, coming south now, just as we expected.a aHave you been informed of our battle plan?a Briyce Unger asked, the smell of sweat thick in the tent, the breeze of yesterday gone and replaced by the hot sun overhead, which turned the tent into a makeshift oven. The mountain men around Unger were shifting, listless, even though most of them remained seated.

aSeems simple enough,a Cyrus said. aForm a line in the middle of the plains north of here when we know theyare coming, sit and wait, and let them fall on us like wave after wave on the rocks.a aThereas a bit more to it than that,a Tiernan said, with that same slight grimace. aThough not much, admittedly. Every suggestion I put forward with the idea of a flanking maneuver was roundly rejected.a aIf they come in as great numbers as we suspect,a Cyrus said, aweall be too busy protecting our own flanks to launch a counterthrust. With our healers at work, this seems like the best solution. If they come at us in a small number, we can get elaborate and envelop them. If theyare going to mass and swarm at us with the ridiculous amount of them that we think are lurking in the north, then weare better off keeping it simple and defensive.a aYet,a Tiernan said, and stood, aif we allow our army to become pinned down, will it not mean our defeat? Will we not be pushed back, lose ground and lose heart?a aLosing ground is an acceptable trade-off in this situation,a Cyrus said as he watched Briyce Unger nod his head. aWe have hundreds of miles of open ground to lose before we butt up against a forest and have nowhere else to fall back. Losing heart would be foolish so long as we keep them from breaking through. If they flank us, weare in trouble. If we can keep them in front of us rather than behind and continue to hammer them, we stand a chance. This battle is as much about standing toe to toe with them and bleeding them through attrition as it is about land and position. Let them have the whole plains,a Cyrus said with a wave of his hand to indicate the land around them. aSo long as we can bleed them dry in the process and lose few enough of our own, we win.a Tiernan conceded with a slight nod of his head. aVery well. This has been explained to me more than once, but the way you say it seems to make more sense than the others.a He nodded in deference to Briyce Unger. aI hope youall forgive me for saying so.a Unger waved him off, and Tiernan went on. aCan you guarantee that your healers will be able to hold our lines together against the death and serious injury that these beasts bring with them?a aI guarantee nothing in a battle save for bloodshed and death,a Cyrus said, looking at Tiernan, a smaller man than he, as most were. He saw a hint of Cattrine in the King of Actaluereas cheekbones. aYou will lose men, no doubt, even if my healers were to perform miraculous feats. The army is too large and my healers too few to effectively protect the entirety. They will do their best, especially since your army will be holding the left flank, and I have no desire to see you take casualties that will weaken my defenses in that area.a aFair enough,a Tiernan said, and his voice was graver than Cyrus had heard it at Enrant Monge. aThen I suppose we have our plan, we have our roles, and all that is left to do is to wait for my army, and then move north into the jaws of the enemy.a aAye,a Briyce Unger said, aand let us hope that this time, we bring a morsel too large for them to digest, a bone that they might finally choke upon.a With that, the King of Syloreas stood, and as though his nervous energy was in need of a release of its own, walked briskly out of the tent without another word.

Cyrus watched him go, and saw the members of the Actaluere delegation begin to file out as well, save for a fewa"Milos Tiernan and two of his closest advisors, men Cyrus had seen at Enrant Monge. Tiernan caught Cyrusas eye, and the meaning was cleara"Wait a moment.

Cyrus did as he was bade by the Kingas gaze, and after only another moment, Tiernanas advisors nodded in turn and left the tent, the flap closing behind them. The air was still now, and Cyrus stared at Tiernan, his piercing green eyes staring into Cyrusas own. The King held a brass cup that had been resting at his side during the convocation and he drank from it now, his eyes never leaving Cyrus. aSo, youare the general of Sanctuary,a Tiernan said when the cup had just barely left his lips. aYouave caused quite the stir since you came to our land.a aNone of it was intended to harm your realm, I hope you understand.a Cyrus did not bend as he spoke, kept the deference he might otherwise have offered well out of his words. He said it harsh and firm, keeping it from being any sort of offering or concession.

aI do understand,a Milos Tiernan said, though he kept his distance. aYou trespassed, and I would have been content to let you do so, because there was little margin in me keeping you from crushing Syloreas so long as you didnat turn against me afterward.a The King of Actaluere let out a bitter laugh. aHell, even if you had, I would have been better off than opposing you while you were in the middle of my territory; having you come at us from the border with Galbadien would have been less sensitive than letting you sack Green Hill. That was a black eye for us.a aYet you donat seem that upset by it.a Cyrus watched Tiernanas reaction; there was a subtle tightening of the manas jaw as it slid to the side and his lips drew tight together, wrinkling as they pursed in an almost-smile.

aI donat have to live in Green Hill,a Tiernan said, and took a small sip from his cup again. aNor was I the one who gave the order to muster forces against you. That was your friend Hoygraf. Obviously, I donat care to see any part of my realm destroyed, but as I saida"I would have let you pass, if for no other reason than it benefitted us greatly to not stop you.a aHow does it benefit you to have us save Galbadien?a Cyrus asked, watching Tiernan carefully.

aHow would it have benefitted Actaluere to go from two enemies to one?a Tiernan shrugged. aLuukessia has a delicate balance of power, one that none of the Arkarians Iave met seem to fully appreciate, coming from so fragmented a land. If there comes a war to Luukessiaa"and there always doesa"it rarely involves all three parties. Alliances last a year, perhaps two, enough to firmly shellack one of the powers and to allow the other two to remember their disdain for each other, and then they dissolve.a He touched his chest with a single finger. aI like the balance. I like knowing who my enemies are, always. I prefer to know that I canat trust anyone on my borders and that my best bet is to always keep a wary eye on both of them.a His expression turned sober. aAnd I always liked to think that if an outside threat came from over the bridge, our three Kingdoms would band together and toss them back without a second thought.a aSecond thoughts seem to be abounding in this situation,a Cyrus said, catching Tiernanas eye after the King had seemed to go pensive. aYour whole land was almost in an uproar; you barely made it to this conflict yourself, and whatever is coming down from those mountains is looking to me a whole lot worse than most of the things that might have come across the Endless Bridge.a aPerhaps,a Tiernan said with a ghostly smile. aBut part of that was your doinga"your interference. No one but an outsider would have caused the fragmentation that you did when you took my sister away from Hoygraf. No Luukessian, at least.a aI didnat know she was your sister when I did it,a Cyrus said.

Tiernan gave a small chuckle. aIf you had, would that have swayed you?a aDoubtful.a aThen it matters little enough, doesnat it?a Tiernan started toward a pitcher of water that rested on a table near the side of the tent. aYour attack on the Barona"Iam sorry, itas Grand Duke now, isnat it?a"on his castle and your subsequent actions forced me to guide my land toward a war I never asked for. That would be the only reason we wouldnat have rendered aid to Syloreas given whatas happening, at least after my scout saw with his own eyes what we faced.a aYou seem to like the idea of fragmentation in the land of Luukessia as a whole,a Cyrus said. aBut I note you donat seem quite so fond of it when it happens in your own Kingdom.a aNo man enjoys having his own house thrown into chaos,a Tiernan said, his back to Cyrus while he hefted the water pitcher and poured it into his cup. aMake no mistake, Hoygraf has enough power to throw my house into a good deal of chaos.a aYouare very frank about that,a Cyrus said. aI would have expected youad do more to hide it, given your reputation for maneuvering and canniness. There doesnat seem to be much advantage to be gained from telling me youave elevated a man to Grand Duke who is poised to tear your Kingdom apart should he so desire.a Tiernan didnat stiffen, not exactly, though his expression was masked from Cyrus, with his back turned as it was. The King took another sip of water without turning, and the warrior wondered if perhaps it was because Tiernan was taking the time to compose his reply. aThere is little advantage in lying about the troubled state of my Kingdom to an outsider.a Tiernan pivoted and gave Cyrus a twisted smile. aLet us not be coy; you were my sisteras lover not so very long ago. I might not speak as freely with a complete stranger, but if she did not tell you at least a majority of the things Iave aadmitteda to you in the last moments, Iall eat my own horse for dinner.a aShe did tell me quite a bit about the goings-on of Actaluere,a Cyrus said, arms still folded. aBut I assumed that it was from the perspective of the Baroness Hoygraf, not the a whatever her title was a Tiernan.a aHer primary title would be aPrincess,aa Tiernan said with a nod and a pained expression.

aSounds oddly condescending,a Cyrus replied. aSo your Kingdom is in trouble, what of it? Why are we discussing this?a aWeare discussing it,a Tiernan said with a slightly raised eyebrow, abecause you began with an admission that you intended my Kingdom no harm, and I responded by offering a similar statement which we then proceeded to descend into until we reached the current point of conversation.a He took a sip of the water, lightly, almost daintily, then pulled it away from his lips with a flourish. aI assumed that like my conversations with Unger, you preferred to remove all the guile from the subtext by throwing everything onto the table first, so that then we could proceed with our talk unfettered by the political silliness which I, incidentally, excel at.a aPutting aside your strengths in a conversation with me doesnat seem to be to your greatest advantage, either,a Cyrus said.

aItas a strength; itas hardly the only one I possess,a Tiernan said. aSpeaking in circles around men like you and Unger nets me little when itas only the two of us; you may discern what Iam going about but it profits me nothing when Iam merely trying to make a point.a aWhat is your point?a Cyrus asked, not feeling half as overwhelmed as he thought he should given the waves of admissions and dizzying maneuvers that seemed already to have been employed. Is he being genuine or trying to muddle the issue? Damnation and hell if I can tell. Then again, his sister was quite good at misdirection as well a aIave yet to approach it,a Tiernan said. aBut here, let me say it without mincing the wordsa"leave my sister be.a Cyrus didnat respond, not for a long, silent minute. aI have no more intention toward your sister.a aOh?a Tiernan stared him down, a smoky-eyed gaze. aYou swore youad protect her, go to war for her, but now youare content to leave her to the hands of her loving husband?a Cyrus felt a tightness all over his face. aDoesnat it make it easier for you if thatas the case?a Tiernan stared back at him. aAs the King of Actaluere, yes.a aAnd as her brother?a Tiernanas face twisted, his eyes narrower, little specks of green visible between the eyelids. aI donat have the luxury of being her brother right now. Iam trying to keep a Kingdom from a bloody civil war at the hands of a sadistic madman while laboring to help save Luukessia from something weave never seen before.a aI have no intention of making your job any harder as King,a Cyrus said. aShe made her choice, for her own reasons. She went back to him, and this after lying to me about who she was and doing everything in her power to insult and provoke him.a He shrugged, dismissing the rumbling within him that wanted to argue. aIave done all I can for her at this point. My responsibility lies with helping to destroy this scourge that afflicts your land.a aAnd after that?a Tiernan asked.

Cyrus laughed. aAfter that aa He let his words fade. aI suppose itall be time for me to go home, wonat it?a aAs the King of Actaluere, I would find great relief if you did.a Tiernan set aside the cup, and started toward the flap of the tent. aAfter all, thereas nothing so dangerous to a land that thrives on having a balance of power as something that could upset that balance, say, an army with more ability than anyone elseas. So, as King, I would heartily support your leaving after you finish your duty here.a Cyrus shook his head in deep amusement. aTo the hells with what youad want as King. What youare not saying is at least ten feet deeper than any of the shallow platitudes youare throwing at me about what youad desire and support as King. You want me to rescue her before I leave, donat you?a Tiernan held still, his body facing away from Cyrus, but he slowly pivoted on a foot, his cloak swaying at his feet. aAs the King, you know I could never ask such a thing.a aWell, all Iam looking at right now is a King and not much else,a Cyrus said. aNot much of a man, thatas for certaina"a aEasy to say without the responsibility,a Tiernan said. aI hear that when I walk among the people in Caenalys, sometimes, when I don a cowl and go out to hear what word on the street is. aIf I were King, Iad aa followed by a suggestion of such gut-wrenching stupidity that it would annihilate my entire Kingdom with more certainty than disbanding the army and sending written invitations to Galbadien and Syloreas to come visit and bring all their soldiers.a Tiernan took slow, striding steps toward Cyrus, his every word filled with emotion that Cyrus hadnat caught even a hint of in any of the meetings head been in with Tiernan. aTo be a statesman is to do what is best for the land you rule and to do that first. Family comes second, and your own concerns come later, if at all. So Iam quite content if Iave measured up in the first way, and forgive me if I give less than a damn how much of a man or a brother I look like to you.a aYou sold your sister in marriage to a monster who whips her, naked, in front of crowds,a Cyrus said with barely controlled disgust. aBetter hold to that Kingly air youare sporting as tightly as you can. Did you know what he was when you gave her to him? Did you know what kind of man he was when you elevated him to Grand Duke?a aI knew what kind of power he held when I did all those things,a Tiernan said with little other reaction. aI knew what my Kingdomas peril was when I did it. I knew what the danger was if I didnat hand her off or elevate him for his service. And by service I mean his stupidity in becoming entangled with an army from the west.a Tiernan spun, keeping his face away from Cyrus again. aI knew what I did as a King and I ask for no forgiveness. I made hard choices that others might not have. You may believe that or not. What I ask is that if you are going to leave these shores, take my sister with you so that she might have the opportunity to escape the horror of Hoygrafas charms.a aAnd thus allow you to salve the conscience of the brother so the King may continue to happily rule without one of his own.a Cyrus shook his head, the disgust welling up within him. aIt must take courage indeed to ask a stranger to make right by his own risk what you refuse to make right with yours.a aOne life or a million,a Tiernan said quietly. aI rule a million, and I gave over one to smoothe the passage of all of them. Find me another man who would not make the same choice in the same situation, and Iall show you a better man than I, one who perhaps enjoys a quieter mind and less concern for the far-reaching consequences of his acts.a aItas funny how a man can have such a long vision, to be so farsighted as to see all the problems of his land,a Cyrus said, abut shortsighted enough to miss the ones that happen in his own house. I believe that could be called a form of blindnessa"or perhaps uncaring.a This time, Tiernan bristled. aI will see you at the battle and likely not before then. When we speak again, as surely we shall over the course of these events, I shall not make mention of this.a Tiernan reached for the flap of the tent.

aJust as well,a Cyrus said. aWe wouldnat want to inflame that long-buried conscience of Cattrineas brother, after all. It might interfere with the plottings of the King of Actaluere.a aI did what I had to do, and I thought that perhaps you, as one who I had heard held some affection in your heart for Cattrine, might do me some small service and allow her a measure of happiness. I apologize, sir, for confusing you with someone who cared for her.a He pulled the tent open and let it flap shut behind him.

Cyrus sat there in the empty tent for a long time after that, pondering what reply he might have made. Ultimately, he said nothing to the empty tent, though much to himself on the inside.

Chapter 59.

Vara Day 5 of the Siege of Sanctuary The northern Plains of Perdamun were sun-kissed, the late-summer light bounding over them just as the horses of Varaas expeditionary party did. It was nearing daybreak, and the shadows were diminishing as the light increased. A fresh smell was in the air, the aura of dew and horse, of farm and field, and Vara steered her animal across the flat ground, the hoofbeats of a hundred following close behind her.

aThis is such a clever idea,a Vasteas voice grated at her from her right. aI really love the thought of the hundred of us being out here, all alone, in the middle of a territory crawling with dark elves. Itas a smart idea, too, running out of our safely defended keep in order to sow discord among our enemiesa supply lines, in hopes they wonat capture and kill us. Very clever.a aIt was exceedingly clever,a Ryin Ayend said without a trace of irony. aThough I know youare being sarcastic, Vaste, it really was a good idea.a aMe?a Vaste asked, his expression clouded with a sour look. aBe sarcastic? Surely not. But if I were, perhaps itas not so much that I dislike the idea as I dislike the fact that Iam forced to rise before dawn to help execute the idea.a aI had just assumed that riding the horse as you were,a Vara said, ayou were experiencing some early saddle soreness that was making you complain in an infantile manner. Either that, or the conjured bread weave been eating of late is causing you some mild colic.a aI am not experiencing colic or any sort of saddle sorenessa"yet,a Vaste replied. aI do expect that once weave engaged the enemy a few times and they begin to reinforce their convoys with extra soldiers, Iall begin to experience some digestive disturbances, though.a aIam certain that will be to no oneas advantage,a Ryin muttered as they came over a slight rise in the plains. aUp there.a He pointed to a line visible in the far distance.

aThatad be our first convoy, I suppose,a Vaste said. aCan you tell if itas the dark elves from here?a aIt is,a Vara replied. aAt least ten wagons, no visible column of soldiers marching with it.a She let herself smile then stopped when she remembered that there were others with her. aI believe it is time to show these dark elves the error of their ways.a aYou make it sound as though weare going to hand them a list of table manner faux pas they committed at a dinner party,a Vaste said. aAnd if thatas the case, I would like to add that drinking directly from the soup bowl is considered bad form, though not nearly so much as scratching yourself in inappropriate places with your dessert fork.a After drawing a long, uncomfortable look from both Ryin and Vara, he hastened to add, aI learned that one from hard experience myself.a aLet us have at them, then,a Vara said, and urged her horse into a gallop. aNo survivors in military garb. Let any civilians have the opportunity to flee but donat hesitate to kill. We can always resurrect any casualties later.a aSays the one who doesnat have to drain her magical energy to bring them back,a Vaste murmured.

aKeep your wits about you,a she ordered and then glanced at Vaste. aOh, itas you. I forgot. Never mind, then.a aIam actually very witty,a Vaste said, athough youad need to loosen up by a considerable margin to appreciate it.a aOh, I appreciate it,a Vara said, her horse already hard at work, running full out. aIf only I could be as amusing as you.a aI read once that brevity is the key to wit,a Vaste said, his voice barely audible over the hoofbeats of the entire raiding party. aPerhaps you should talk less.a They rode hard across the plains, the steady pace carrying them toward the slow-moving wagon train on the road ahead. It was only when they were a few hundred yards away that the convoy began to realize that there was danger afoot, and they hurried to move the wagons along but by then it was far too late.

The wagons were all flat-bedded, stacked high with barrels and crates. Dark elves sat up front in ones and twos, Vara noted as she assessed the threat. There were a half-dozen horsed soldiers with them, their armor of the boiled leather variety. Not a spellcaster among them and woefully underdefended, prepared only for angry farmers upset at the theft of their crops. That will change after today.

She raised her blade above her head and let loose a warcry. It annoyed her a second after she did it; it was far too close to something Cyrus Davidon would have done. Loud warfare is the province of the savage and unskilled. I have other means at my disposal.

She extended her blade as the dark elven soldiers lined up on horseback in a rank two wide, forming a spear as though to charge into the Sanctuary force. She let the tip point just between the first two, and then whispered the incantation she had learned shortly after she turned sixteen. A ripple of air flew forth, channeled from her hand down her blade, her spell sending a burst of concussive force at the riders.

Her blast hit the first of them as the horses made to swerve; they did not make it in time, and the riders were thrown, coming hard to the ground in a crunch of breaking bones and falling animals. Her spell carried through them and smashed the next in the rank, and the next, all the way to the fourth row. Only four remaining now, Vara thought as she sent her horse onward over the fallen enemies. She raised her blade and jerked her horse left, dodging the attack aimed at her by the first of her remaining opponents. She caught him flush against the gap between his leather armor and steel helm, and there was a gasping noise as he hit the ground. She readied her sword again and struck back at the final horseman still in the line, dealing him a glancing blow.

Once she passed, she pulled on the reins with her free hand and brought her horse into a quick turn. Her army of a hundred had finished the last of the dark elves. She turned to see the convoy trying to get away still and sent her horse galloping after it. She pulled aside the first wagon and aimed her sword at the dark elf sitting atop it. His hands came up in front of him, shaking, and Vara could see the age on his lined blue skin, the corners of his eyes with the crowas feet radiating from them. She did not say a word, merely maintained pace with the wagon and the man brought it to a stop. A few of the wagons behind his tried to escape off the road, and she watched them fail, one of them even losing a wheel trying to break right over a bumpy field. The Sanctuary raiding party was around them in force and they were outmatched.

aStep down,a she said to the man atop the wagon she had stopped. aI wonat harm you or your people, so long as you make no threatening moves. There was the crack of a lightning spell heard several wagons back, and she rolled her eyes. aAs I said.a She pointed toward the field to her left. aGo stand over there. Run in fear for your life if you must, but donat come near the wagons.a The older dark elf nodded as he climbed down and then turned and sprinted across the field with more speed than she would have given him credit for, given his skin and the salt-and-pepper coloration of his hair. She shrugged and walked around the back of the wagon, where Vaste had already hoisted himself up and had opened a barrel. aWheat,a the troll said, agrains, oats, all manner of excellent suchness.a aOh, good,a she said, and found herself leaning against the side, aand I was somewhat worried weare ambushing a train filled with womenas clothing or something of the sort.a aWhy, are you looking for another dress?a Vaste asked, not looking up from the crates that he was inspecting. aAll in all, not a terrible harvest if we managed to get eight wagons of this stuff. Not enough to bring the Sovereignas army to his knees, but if we did this regularly itad be enough to keep us in the fresh foodstuffs for a while.a He gave a long look around, surveying the damage they had wrought. aWell, it worked.a aOf course it worked,a she said, looking over the ill-gotten gains. aAnd this is but the first of many. We need to hit them with such force and so often that they are compelled to send hundreds of troops with every wagon for fear it will disappear from the road as though swallowed up by the very earth itself.a Something in the way she said it made Varaas own scalp tingle, and an idea worked its way in, just a passing one at first, framed from a memory. We could a She shook her head, as if to rid herself of it. No, ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous a But it stayed with her just the same.

Chapter 60.

Cyrus The days passed slowly after Cyrusas meeting with Tiernan. Cyrus remained in an agitated state; the river nearby was now clogged with bodies, so many of them falling downstream that he wondered how there could have been that many people in the north for so many to have washed downward.

aThere are several major villages on this stream,a Unger said to him as they stood nearby, watching the water source turn more and more tainted as the days passed. aIt bodes ill for Syloreas that so many of our sons and daughters are feeling the teeth of these beasts.a It bodes ill for our army as well, if every source of fresh water is given over to being filled with rotting corpses, Cyrus thought, but he did not say it. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the thought of bathing as well, though that scarcely seemed to matter to Aisling. She had come to his tent in silence every night since their first rendezvous by the river, and she said not a word, no conversation, nothing. He did not want to break the quiet that she imposed to bring about any of the questions she might have that he cared not to answer. So he said nothing, but instead buried his lips in hers, pressing his face against her cheek, her neck, in her bosom. The silence was like water to him, just as vital to his survival, and he needed what she gave him so desperately now that he wondered how he had survived without it for so many years.

The camp had been quiet until the second army from Actaluere arrived. Cyrus watched them stream into the camp, at least thrice the size of the host that Milos Tiernan had brought with him to Enrant Monge. Other armies streamed in, too, from the east and west of Syloreas. aTheyave been turned out by riders,a Unger had said to him as they watched a steady line of men in furs and skins come into camp day after day, few enough of them possessing any armor at all. A few genuine armies of Syloreas came as well, more of them bearing at least some protection for battle but not nearly as many as came in cloth and with rusty swords and spears.

They moved north the day after the Actaluereans joined them, striking out across the plain, following a road that seemed familiar to Cyrus. When the wind blew out of the north it smelled of rot and decay and carried a chill that ill-fitted late summer. When it came out of the south it was enough to remind Cyrus of the harvest and brought warmth aplenty. The memory of the Plains of Perdamun was still strong with him, and though the grains looked marginally different, he was reminded of home nonetheless as the days grew shorter a few minutes at a time. The ride north was slower than when last he had done it, the mountains in the distance still capped with snow.

Cyrus kept his own counsel as the days went on, meeting with his officers only when needed. They were well enough instructed that he didnat worry, and Odellan had a firm handle on the warriors and rangers who made up the front ranks of battle. He watched them drill at the elfas commands and tried to feel fortunate at having come across the Endrenshan from Termina. I doubt he would feel quite the same. All things being equal, I rather suspect head prefer to still be there, in his city, were it still standing. Hell, perhaps even now that itas not.

The last day of their ride carried them to a small town on the edge of the river, where the folk they found turned out en masse when Briyce Unger led the march through their village. Cyrus looked over the village, which was no more than a collection of hovels with thatched roofs and stone walls, perhaps two dozen at most, all grouped together around a mill with a waterwheel that turned. There was a sound within that Cyrus presumed was the sound of rocks grinding grist.

Cyrus listened as the townsfolk pelted Unger with questions, their worry bleeding into their voices. What about the dead bodies? Should we go south and find safety? What comes for us? What killed those people? Will it kill us as well? Has Scylax truly fallen?

The voices were overwhelming, and Cyrus watched as Unger held up his hands for quiet. The last of the cacophony died away, leaving an eerie calm settled over the village as the people waited to hear Ungeras pronouncement. aGood people,a Unger began, still atop his horse, looking like nothing so much as a mountain astride his destrier, aI bring with me sad tidings of news youave already heard. A vile enemy comes out of the mountains, and yes, it has taken Scylax and slaughtered the people there. This is done, and no amount of wishing will make it undone. But I bring with me alliesa"magicians from beyond the western shores of our land, the full army of Actaluere and all the men Syloreas can spare. Youave heard the rumors and heralds and the messengers. Now hear mea"we will fight our enemies back. We will drive them from here, whip them before us with sword and shield and send them scurrying back to their mountain den where we will crush them and ensure they never return to haunt our mountain home again.a Cyrus listened as the King of Syloreas said his piece. There was a certain magic in the way he did it, weaving his words together, causing the crowd to stay silent. Unger was not much of a wordsmith, but his ability to speak in front of the villagers came out and there was a calm in the midst of what was coming, a reassurance from their own King that they would be safe. Cyrus took it all in, unsurprised, and when they met at the inn that night, Cyrus said as much to Curatio, Jaanda and Longwell.

aUngeras long been a thorn in my fatheras side,a Longwell said, chewing on the moist bones of a chicken. aUngeras father was a dreadful King, to hear it told. The people were in an uproar all the time, there was a famine that he dealt with poorly or somesuch, I canat recall. Briyce, though, has been skillful, especially for a man so focused on battle. What he managed to doa"striking into the heart of Galbadiena"was shocking, considering that a generation ago Syloreas had lost a quarter of its territory just to our predations. Briyce can persuade and he can fight. He took back all that lost ground and then some.a Longwell shook his head. aI wasnat looking forward to ever staring across our northern border at him.a aYou were to be a King here,a Jaanda said, his delicate hands cradling a battered brass goblet of wine that looked so out of place in the refined enchanteras grasp as to nearly be alien. aWhat happened to make you leave?a aLong story,a Longwell said, and gnawed on a leg bone without enthusiasm.

aIt would seem we have time,a Cyrus said, glancing around the candle-lit room. It was dim, and reminded him of a bar head been to in Reikonos with Terian at his side. He tried to push that thought away; head last seen Terian being walked along behind Mendicantas pony.

aI suppose,a Samwen grudgingly admitted. aYouave met my father. You got a sense for what heas like.a aMore than a sense,a Jaanda said, looking sidelong at another table, where Briyce Unger sat with several of his men, drinking mead and speaking in boisterous tones; Cyrus could hear some braggadocio, something about a battle on a western shore.

aHe wasnat always that way,a Longwell said, carefully licking the grease from each of his fingers. His gauntlets lay on the table beside him, and his steel blue armor looked dark, almost black, in the candlelight. aHe used to be a warrior himself, a dragoon, like me. He had courage, little feara"they said he won a battle against the old King of Syloreas by riding him down in a charge. Which would be unremarkable except that my father had only himself and the King of Syloreas had a hundred guards following him into the fight.a Cyrus raised an eyebrow. aI presume the Syloreans backed off after your father struck down their King?a aYou presume correctly,a Longwell said, his head down, voice still clear. aTheyare fierce warriors, and they would have been glad to take revenge, but he fought him singly and won. When my fatheras armya"smaller than the Sylorean one by halfa"rejoined him after the charge, they formed a line and held against the rage of the Syloreans for a full day without breaking. That was forty years ago or more, I suppose. That was the battle that made Briyce Unger King of Syloreas. My father had only been on the throne of Galbadien five years or so by that point.a aBriyce had no thanks for the gift of his crown?a Jaanda sipped delicately from the cup again, then set it upon the table.

aNo,a Longwell said with a shake of the head. aAs soon as his coronation was over he rode out at the head of their army and started to take back territory. They gained a half dozen towns and a major seaport by the end of his first week of fighting. Sent my father into a rage. Of course, I wasnat born yet when this happened, but my mother told me. By the time I came along, she said he was a different man than the one shead known when he began. He only got worse after that, raging at the wrong people, fearful of losing so much as an inch of his Kingdom. He didnat lead battles anymore, no reckless charges. He was afraid to take a risk for fear of what it might cost him.a Longwell brought his own goblet up. aAnd we lost territory after territory, and he got more calculating as time went on. Since the day I was born, Galbadien is a hundred miles shorter across the top than it was. Not much lost to the west, but still.a He shrugged. aFather hasnat taken it very well, but heas yet to make an aggressive move to stop it, other than when he tried to invade Syloreas while Ungeras back was turned.a aFear of loss does funny things to a man,a Curatio said, speaking for the first time since theyad sat down. The healeras eyes were firmly rooted in his own wine, though he hadnat had more than a few sips since theyad arrived, Cyrus knew. aIt quickens the blood, slows action, paralyzes you. A man could have everything he wanted and be truly happy, but if you take away only the smallest thing, he becomes angry, resentful, and his happiness rots like a deshfruit left in the midday sun.a Curatio took a finger and dipped it into his glass, then brought it out and let it drip on the table. aIt only gets worse as you age, you know. The older you are, the more you see what you have to lose, and the more you fear what that loss might mean.a aIave heard heas not even the same since I left,a Longwell said. aHe dwells in his chambers, doesnat see anyone for days at a time, that not even the maidens they send him can lift his spirits for more than an hour or so at a go. Heas fearful, all right, though I didnat see it when we quarreled before I left. He argued me right out of Vernadam, without so much as a notice that it might be anything other than petty anger driving him.a aA father and a son arguing?a Jaanda said with a quiet chuckle. aHard to believe.a aOh, yes,a Longwell said. aThere was stubborn pride on display enough to choke the both of us. He rooted in his conviction, and I in mine.a aWhat did you argue about?a Curatio asked, ever the sage, implacable, all-knowing.

Longwell thought about it, and Cyrus watched the dragoonas face as it squinted in consideration. aI donat rightly know,a Longwell said. aIt seemed of vital importance at the time, some minor trifle about how the army ran that felt like the most important thing in the world, but upon reflection aa Longwell let out a quiet, mirthless laugh, aIall be damned if I can remember.a aPettiness is hardly an exclusively human trait,a Curatio said. aI recalla"just barely, you understanda"arguing with my own father. Though obviously this was some time ago.a aHow did your father die, Curatio?a Cyrus asked.

The healer stared into space, his face blank. aIt was a long time ago.a aDoes that mean you donat recall?a Longwell asked, his attention turned to the elf. aOr that you donat want to?a Curatio didnat change expression, and continued to stare straight ahead. aIt was a long time ago.a aIt would appear weave brought some of Alaricas avague and mysteriousa along with us to this new land,a Jaanda said, prompting a chuckle from Longwell, and even a smile from Curatio, one that lasted far past all the other smiles at the table.

That night, when Cyrus lay down in his bed, the sounds of the inn alive around him, he tried not to think about what was to come. There was a fire in the hearth beside him, and the Syloreans were still drinking downstairs and telling stories, though Milos Tiernan and his few aides had left even before Cyrus and his party had called it a night. There was a quiet creaking as Cyrus shifted in the bed, which was old and made a corresponding amount of noise every time he moved in it. It gave a squeak of protest, the wood in the old frame taking umbrage to his motion on top of the thin mattress. There was still the smell of chicken in the air, and the aroma of the pickled eggs that had been kept in a barrel in the corner which the innkeep left open all night, as though the smell were of no consideration. The smoke of the fire did all it could to overcome it, yet still failed. The nub of a feather was sticking out of the mattress and poking into Cyrusas back, and when he shifted, another took its place.

There was a very quiet sound of a door opening, and a thin shaft of light flooded into the room, running across his bed for only a second before a shadow blocked it, then one more second before the door closed quietly again. He saw the figure, unmistakable in her curves and careful, quiet walk. aAisling?a he whispered, and he felt a finger cross his lips as she silently slipped into the bed.

Her lips pressed onto to his, and the swarm of thoughts in his mind faded blissfully. The bed frame continued to squeak, building to a fever pitch of motion, and then subsided. She left as quietly as she came in, and once she was gone, his thoughts plagued him no more.

Chapter 61.

Vara Day 18 of the Siege of Sanctuary The alarms sounded in the middle of the night, along with the customary calls of aAlarum! Alarum!a that set her teeth to rattling. Why call out the elongated version of the damned word? Why not just say aalarma and be done with it?

She had slept once more in her armor and was down the stairs quickly enough to avoid the pileup that had seemed to occur with every alarm of late. Her only consolation was knowing that the members were taking every attack seriously. Except perhaps now, in the dead of the night, the slowness of things coming to awakeness. Of course they would attack us now, draw us out weary and exhausted after Iave just spent another day preying on their convoys and shipments. She let slip a feral smile. Iad strike them that way, just the same. No mercy.

There were only two heralds in the foyer, two warriors shouting the alarm. Rather than correct them (or slap them, she thought uncharitably) she instead followed their outstretched hands, pointing to the front doors. She ran past the ranks of guards stationed around the portal in the foyer, swords, spears and axes pointed at the center of the room and she fled down the steps at a run, only a few others with her. She had heard the sounds up the stairwell and on the other floors as she passed them; Theyall all be awake and turned out soon enough.

The night air was cool as she crossed the distance of the yard to the wall. The slap of her boots on the steps was lost to her breathing this time, steady, determined. She burst out onto the parapet and found a surprisingly quiet scenea"a crowd of people circled down the wall a space, no one watching the fields below. She stole a glance over the edge, and by the light of the crescent moon she could see no army close by, no immediate threat, the grounds below still wafting the stench of the dead from the last battle, their bones now picked clean by the carrion birds, rats, worms, and maggots.

aWhat the bloody hell was that?a she asked as she shoulder checked her way through the crowd standing on the wall. Most moved aside when her voice was heard. It is nice to know that some move aside not only because I am the shelasaakur but because Iam bound to knock them aside if they donat. She burst through into the open space on the other side of the wall and there found Alaric, standing with his arms folded next to Thad, surveying the scene.

There were a dozen bodies lying splattered atop the wall, all dark elves she could see by the complexion of the ruined flesh, every one of them in armor of some sort. One of them was obviously a dark knight, fully covered from head to toe in plate mail, a stream of blood oozing out of the cracks and clefts. aWhat the hell is this?a Vara asked again, and this time Alaric turned to face her, registering no surprise.

aHello, lass,a the Ghost said. aIt would appear that our enemies intended to launch a surprise attack to open our gates.a aI presume it failed,a she said, kicking one of the bodies with her toe and finding it mushier than she expected.

aIndeed,a Thad said, his amusement unhidden. aThey tried to use Falconas Essence to sneak over the wall a few hundred feet over our head. It worked, we didnat even see them coming until they hit the magical barrier at the perimeter and it stripped the enchantment right off of them, sending them plummeting to their deaths.a He nodded over the wall toward the army in the distance. aMy guess is that theyare watching the gate, wondering why it hasnat opened yet. Could be a long night for the poor bastard behind those spyglasses.a aIt could be a long night for those of us who were rousted for an alarm when there is plainly nothing to be alarmed about yet,a she said, grinding her teeth together. aAnd also those of us who have an early morning sortie planned at daybreak.a aSorry,a Thad said with a shrug, abut itas the standard response to a surprise attack. We should be on our guard for the next few hours in case they try and storm the gates anyway.a Vara steamed for a moment, staring at the castellan in sheerest irritation. aYou were at the Society of Arms in Reikonos, were you not?a He blinked at her in surprise. aI was.a aThen I presume you were no Swift Sword.a Thad seemed to wobble as if not sure how to answer. aNo, I was. I was most assuredly not one of the cursed Able Axes.a aI certainly believe that you might be swift but not able, based on what Iave seen of your performance this night,a Vara said bitingly. aI will be returning to my bed, and I trust if there is another alarm raised, it will be done only when an actual dark elf threat, complete with a still-beating hearts, is imminent.a Thad started to protest but was overcome by Alaric. aDo have a good night, Lady Vara.a aLady Vara?a she spun at the Ghost of Sanctuary. aAnd shall I begin addressing you as Lord Garaunt?a Alaricas gaze was steady and even, though there was a wearier bent to the man, she thought. aYou may address me however you see fit, within the bounds of our mutual respect for each other.a He favored her with a smile that was shot through with fatigue but made no move to return to Sanctuary or his own bed, and after a moment of watching him, she turned and made her way back inside, threading through the steady flow of people that were coming to join in the defense of their home.

Chapter 62.

Cyrus They were formed up in a line along the plain, north of the village he had heard the others refer to as Filsharron. It was at least two miles north of the place they had been staying in for the past few nights, the humble inn with the squeaking bed and the rapidly diminishing supply of pickled eggs. Cyrus could still taste one of them on his beard, a messy thing, and filled with the foulness of vinegar, nothing like the fresh ones he was accustomed to at Sanctuary. The line was surprisingly quiet, the anticipation running across the men in it. Cyrus was at the fore, and the Sanctuary forces were stacked four deep in rows behind him. The spellcasters were behind that in a loose formation, and to his right, at the end of the Sanctuary line, was the ragged, motley assortment of the men and armies of Syloreas. To the left was the more neatly ordered rows of Actaluereas forces, Milos Tiernan at the head with a few of his aides.

aTiernan doesnat seem the sort that would lead his army into battle,a Cyrus heard a rumbling voice say from behind him. He turned and saw Partus at the front of the line, his head well below the next person in the row.

aAppearances can be deceiving, Iam told,a Cyrus said with a slight barb to his voice. He watched Partus fail to react and tried to decide whether the dwarf had missed the point or was merely uninterested in it.

aHe doesnat look like heas led a battle from the front in his entire life,a Partus said after Cyrus turned around. aLooks like heas enjoyed life at the back of the fraya"not that thereas anything wrong with that. Iad gladly take ruling a Kingdom over tangling with an army any day.a Cyrus tilted his head to look at the dwarf, which was easier since they remained on foot, all the horses well to the rear of the battle lines save for cavalry reserves on either flank. Longwell, Cyrus knew, was with the Syloreans, and had taught them a few basic maneuvers in the last few days to increase their effectiveness in battle ahorse. aWhy are you still here, Partus? Did we turn you loose or something?a aAye, Curatio cut me a deal,a Partus said, turning to loose a great wad of spit upon the dusty ground. aIam to take part in this fight, and I can come back to Arkaria with the rest of you lot when itas all over and done.a aCouldnat you just have gone back to Arkaria on your own, over the bridge?a Cyrus asked.

aAnd walk months to get there, then have to travel five days over the bridge on foot and gods knows how many months after that just to make my way to the nearest settlement? I think Iad rather take my chances with you lot and these beasties. After all, Iave seen what they can do and weare coming at them with a shite ton of men and swords.a Partus hefted his hammer. aI like our odds better than I like the idea of the walk.a Cyrus shook his head. aOf course, you care about what happens to this land and itas people too, right?a He said it with all due sarcasm.

aI could give a pickled fig what happens to this land and its people,a Partus said with another great slop of brown spit; Cyrus realized now that it was filled with tobacco juice. aIave seen enough of Luukessia to choke me out for seven lifetimes. Iall be heading back to the Dwarven Alliance after this, perhaps hire on as a mercenary to take up some nice, quiet picket duty watching the humans go about their business in the Northlands from atop a hill, or guarding the caverns and streets of Fertiss against drunken mischief-makers. All I want to do is get drunk every night on wine and ale, find myself in a bed with a woman every morning and work as little as possible at making a living.a aYouare really quite the inspiration,a Cyrus said, and turned back to the northern horizon.

aI donat see you sticking your neck out here under the axemanas blade any longer than you have to,a the dwarf replied. aOr am I wrong and youall just hang around here being jolly in the hinterlands with these tribes of squabbling men and children who sit around the campfires at night trying to engineer up new ways to fornicate with their animals.a aI donat see them fornicating with animals,a Cyrus said, abut perhaps I spend my time in different places than you do.a aThis whole land reeks of backwardness,a Partus went on, undeterred by Cyrusas jibe. aTheir women are like property, theyave got no magical ability at all, not enough to cast a light in early evening, and their finest hovels donat even possess running water.a Another gob of spit made the same squirting noise, though this time Cyrus didnat watch it. aThis was a good lesson, thinking that things couldnat get any worse than they had for me in Arkaria before I left; they can. They did. And I canat bloody wait to get back.a aYouare a charming fellow, Partus, donat let anyone tell you differently,a Cyrus said and strode off down the front line, away from the dwarf. He didnat say anything until he reached Odellan, who stood at ease but still more at attention than most of the men around him. aWhat do you say, Odellan? Are we ready?a aHaving not seen what youave seen about these enemies,a Odellan said, a little stiffly at first, aI donat quite know what to expect. That said, Iam confident that weare more up to the challenge than our companions from Syloreas and Actaluere.a aYou mean battle discipline?a Cyrus asked.

aCompared to the men who compose more than half of Syloreasas fighting force, yes, I speak of discipline,a Odellan said. aBut when comparing us to Actaluere, I mean belief. I think the men of Syloreas who came here of their own volition will fight harder than the professional army of Actaluere,a he said with a nod to the left. aIave looked in the eyes of some of those men dressed in skins and furs, with their swords and wooden shields handed down through generations. Theyare here to fight for their homeland, for revenge in some cases if they made it out of the towns that fell. They wonat break for lack of courage and will fight so long as someone keeps leading them. Actaluereas army, on the other hand, seems to know which way the wind is blowing. Theyave done this beforea"not this, specifically, but theyave been in battles. Their men will keep an awareness, and if things turn unfavorable, I suspect their officers will be the first to order a careful retreat.a aYou think weall have a concern with our left flank?a Cyrus asked.

aI think Iad have a care with both flanks, if I were you, General,a Odellan said lightly. aBut I wouldnat concern myself overly much with the left. Theirs will be an orderly retreat if it comes, and theyall warn us first so we can compensate. If the right breaks it will be quite a different story. Theyave got the volunteers sandwiched between us and the army regulars, so we may need to work harder to relieve the press on them if things get rough, may need to alter our line to cover their ground as the Syloreans fold toward us.a Cyrus let a smile show, one he did not remotely feel but knew was necessary. aYouave given this a great deal of thought.a aAs I should, General,a Odellan said. aAs well I should.a aEnemy on the horizon!a The shout came over them from the left, and Cyrus instinctively looked ahead, toward the mountains in the distance, trying to find the place where the fields met the lines of the mountains. There was movement there, to be sure, something too small to quite make out. If I had elven eyes, I might be able to see. His mind wandered. If I had elven a She flashed through his mind so quickly and subtly that he didnat even know from whence she came. Dammit. Not now.

They waited in a tense formation as the movement went on, miles away, but edging closer. Cyrus had no spyglass like the kind he had seen in use on the top of the wall at Sanctuary from time to time. There was tension in the air, and the scent of the makeshift latrines blew from behind him, not so heavily it was overwhelming but enough to distract. I would hope that it shifts directions, but coming from the north might not be any better than the present option, given the smell of death that these things carry with them a The wait was long, an hour or more before they were fully in sight, a few hundred feet away now. They became clearer as they got closer, and by the time that clarity was obvious, it was also clear that there were more of them than he had seen at any time previous. The ground crawled, a solid mass of grey flesh as far as his human eye could see, all the way back to the horizon and coming along the plains in a wedge that pointed directly at him, at his army.

There was no fear to be had for Cyrus. It was a cool sort of uncaring that filled him. Those around him made little enough noise, a few prayers offered up from some of the men as the enemy closed on them. There were shouts down the line in the ragged army of Sylorean volunteers, and little else but battle orders and invocations for calm coming from the officers at the front of Actaluereas forces. In the distance, Briyce Unger was giving a speech to the Sylorean army, but Cyrus was too far away to catch any of it. Milos Tiernan quietly disappeared into the ranks of his force just moments before the first of the scourge closed the distance with them. Cyrus watched them draw nearer, shuffling across the plains in a loping run, their four-legged gait unlike that of any animal he had seen before.

Their flesh was still pallid, the nearest thing to the rotting dead he could imagine without taking a trip to a graveyard with a shovel. In a flash, he recalled the wendigos of Mortusas realm and realized that these were just a touch like those horrors but different somehow. Wendigos could speak, he knew, possessed some measure of conscious thought, though it was buried below the battle frenzy almost every time he had encountered them. These things were as dead inside as the worst criminal offenders he had ever encountered.

Their bleak eyes stared at him, black holes in their grey-skinned visages, their teeth pointed fangs. And how they ran: faster than a man, but slower than a horse, their gait akin to a three-legged animal but faster than one would expect of such a creature. They kept coming, Cyrus knew, and they would bunch up at the front line as the first of them started to fall. They were close now, only fifty feet away a thirty a ten a He swung Praelior with brutal force in a short stab as the first of them leapt at him. All along the line he saw similar movement, heard the cries of battle joined, and he killed the first of them with a solid impalement that it ran headlong into. He kicked the body from his sword and brought it up just in time to catch the next one, his speed enhanced by the weaponas enchantments enough that he could counter them faster than they could attack. He dodged out of the way of the next to come at him, letting the man behind him strike his first blow; he heard the sound of an axe driving home but was too busy dealing a killing blow of his own to shout congratulations. It was irrelevant, anyway; the front line was already beginning to muddle as the fight turned into a melee within seconds of contact with the enemy.

Cyrus waded through them, trying to keep his back to the men in the line behind him and letting through only what he could not stop personally, which was little. His sword moved in a flash of light, a dance of elegance. There was a bellow to his right and Partus unleashed a blast of force that tunneled through their foes and sent several hundred skyward as it flung them in its wake. The line of power cut through them for several hundred feet before it reached its end, but all along that line it appeared as though the earth had been shredded, all the grass cleared, the dirt upturned and every one of the scourge within that space had been tossed clear. That empty ground refilled only moments later, however, as the grey-skinned enemy flooded back into it, still surging forward toward the waiting armies.

The ground was full all the way to the horizon, the scourge lining the grasslands. Battle. It was the be-all, end-all for me once upon a time. He swung his sword, cutting the head from one of the scourge, and black blood sprayed out as another of the beasts used its decapitated fellow as a springboard to launch at him. Cyrus stepped aside and drove his blade deep into the flank of the creature as it passed; if it screamed, he did not hear it over the sounds of battle that filled his ears. I used to thrive in the heart of the battle, used to glory in the destruction of my foes. Titans. Dragons. Goblins, he thought darkly, and saw three of his own goblin soldiers down the line tear apart a cluster of the grey scourge-beasts with nothing more than their claws. What happened? When did I go from believing in the glory of battle as an end of itself to thinking of it as a means to an enda"to protecting people from it rather than bringing it to the foes most worthy of it?

He racked one of the attacking demons with a sharp downswing that split it to the shoulder then plunged his next attack into the face of another enemy. His blows killed with each strike; he gave no mercy, severing heads and stabbing through hearts. There can be no room for mercy with these creatures; they will fight on after losing a limb, keep dragging themselves toward you with any life left in their bodies, hoping to sink their teeth into you. His next swipe killed three. It would appear that being merciless is not something that Iave lost with time and age. I lived for battle once. Now itas become merely a profession. His blade cut into four more enemies in rapid succession, tearing throats, severing heads, and bisecting one of them. A profession Iam good at, to be sure, but not the obsession, the glory that it was when I worshipped Bellarum with a faith that burned brighter than the flames of a brazier.

Did I get soft? His sword moved of its own accord, cutting and slashing. Did I buy into Alaricas ideals of honor and nobility and put aside the glory of combat? Did I do it because of him? Or for her? The blond ponytail flashed into his sight again, as though he could see her dancing out there in the mass of the scourge, her own blade in hand, though he knew she was as far removed from this place and this battle as one could be.

No answer was forthcoming. Still, he worked his profession, Praelior in his hand, as the midday sun moved deeper into the sky above him, and night began to fall. Still the enemy came, on and on, wave after wavea"and he slaughtered all of them that he could.

Chapter 63.

Vara Day 29 of the Siege of Sanctuary The convoys had armed escorts now, almost a hundred soldiers of the dark elven army led by officers on horseback, their troops following behind them in their leather armor that was as easy to punch through with a mystical sword as unguarded flesh. Vara stared down at them, Vaste next to her squinting through a gnomish spyglass.

aThis will likely only work once in this place, you realize that?a The troll asked, not breaking away from the spyglass.

aNot being an idiot, I do recognize that.a She considered some form of physical reaction, like hitting him on the shoulder to let him know what she thought of him, but decided against it. Too much like Cyrus. aAlthough if we covered our tracks exceptionally well, we might be able to pull it off twice before the Sovereignty becomes wise.a aPerhaps,a Vaste said. Below them lay a caravan, making its way into a short canyon where the road dipped into the plains to follow an old riverbed. aYou seem to have no shortage of ideas to help us wage this little war of ours, but itas disturbing to me how many of them have been borrowed from Goliath.a aWe go with what works,a she said. aHow did they manage it? Casting fire at either end of the canyon to spook the horses and then riding through?a aSomething along those lines,a Vaste said, and she caught the unease in the way he replied. aThey managed to turn it into a perfect ambush, save for the fact that Cyrus got inside the perimeter of their fire and played merry hell with the goblins until they retreated. I must suggest we do not allow something similar.a aAs I saw it,a Vara said, trying to remain patient, ahe was only able to do that because of that wondrous horse of his. Any other horse would have been frightened away from jumping over a wall of fire. Soldiers would similarly know better than to try it in most instances. Besides, my intent is to merely contain the convoy while we eliminate their escort.a She stood and dusted off the plains dirt that clung to her armored greaves. aAs always, the drivers are free to go.a aAs you say,a Vaste agreed, but the unease was still there; she knew him well enough to hear it.