Army of the Dead Read online

  “That is it!” exclaimed Clarvoy. “I cannot believe I was so blind. The whole voyage back I tried to imagine who could possibly know my destination, but you just delivered it to me.”

  “Explain yourself,” responded the Emperor.

  “I never tell the captain our destination until we leave port,” confirmed the spymaster, “but the trip to Meliban was interrupted. You ordered the ship returned to port because of the communication from the inner circle of the Star of Sakova.”

  “And you had already informed the captain of the ship of your destination?” asked Vand.

  “Exactly,” nodded Clarvoy. “That is the only difference in this trip from thousands of others. I must go interrogate the captain immediately.”

  “You will stay here,” the Emperor shook his head as he watched Xavo casting healing magic on the spy’s arm. “I will have the traitorous captain delivered, and we shall learn who on this island he told the destination to.”

  Xavo felt an involuntary spasm wrack his body as he feared for Lady Mystic. Xavo knew that the sea captain could not resist the torture that awaited him. He made a show of completing the healing spell as Vand snapped his fingers and shouted a strange name.

  “Barrok,” called the Emperor. “Come to me.”

  Xavo patted the spy on the arm and nodded to the Emperor as he turned to leave so that he could warn Lady Mystic of the danger awaiting her.

  “Stay, Xavo,” commanded the Emperor. “Your skills might be helpful in interrogating the captain.”

  Xavo nodded dutifully and then heard a metallic clicking outside the throne room. He turned his head with curiosity towards the door on the side of the throne room. He was not prepared for the sight that unfolded before him.

  A huge black creature bowed slightly as it entered the room. It did not bow in deference to the Emperor, but rather to facilitate its entry into the room as the doorway was too short to accommodate its height. The demon’s sharp claws tapped the stone floor as it straightened out and advanced towards the throne. Xavo gazed at the horned beast, its body gleaming in the torchlight like a shiny black metal. Its stride across the room spoke of tremendous power as its snout opened in a slight grin to reveal rows of sharp pointed teeth. Deep black eyes instantly took in the occupants of the room and discarded them as unworthy opponents. The demon halted before the Emperor and bowed its head slightly.

  “Barrok,” commanded the Emperor, “I want the sea captain of the ship that arrived this morning. In fact, I want the entire crew of the ship brought here. They are not to be harmed, but you will not allow them to escape. Let nothing get in your way of pleasing me. Go.”

  The demon grinned broadly and nodded its head. It turned and strode out of the throne room purposefully, its claws sounding as if the stone tiles of the floor would shatter with each step. When the creature was gone, Xavo found himself staring at the empty doorway.

  “Impressive isn’t he?” grinned Vand. “I have more of them. Some were lost in the destruction of Vandegar so long ago, but six remain. They are sworn to protect me.”

  Xavo fidgeted openly. He knew that Vand would attribute his unease to seeing the demon, and that was fine with the mage, but his mind was on his lover. If the sea captain were tortured, Vand would learn that Lady Mystic asked about the ship’s destination. He would know who the spy was, and that would result in her death.

  “Can we be sure that the captain is the spy?” Xavo asked as he turned back to face the Emperor. “Even if he knew the destination of Clarvoy, how could he transmit that information in time to ensure that someone was waiting for Clarvoy?”

  “A valid question,” nodded the spymaster as he rubbed his healed arm and flexed it. “It would take a mage with the knowledge of the air tunnel to send word to the mainland.”

  “Were there such mages on your ship?” asked Xavo.

  “There is always one on the ship,” the spymaster frowned, “but I strive to use mages that I can trust. I am sure of the loyalty of the mage who was present onboard the ship. Why do you ask?”

  “Because even if the captain was willing to part with the information regarding your destination,” answered Xavo, “he would need the mage to deliver it.”

  “It could be any mage on this island,” retorted Clarvoy. “Once the captain knew that I was headed for Meliban, he could have told someone here. He could even have told you,” Clarvoy added accusingly.

  “Hardly,” smiled Xavo. “I was in this room when you arrived, and when you left. I never left the Emperor’s presence during your return to the island. Not only that, I resent your accusation. As you have, I have displayed my loyalty to the Emperor on many occasions. I do not question your loyalty; do not dare to question mine.”

  “Enough,” scowled the Emperor. “I do not suspect Xavo, Clarvoy. His words are true about your last visit. He never left my presence. Let the captain tell us whom he told. That will finish the issue.”

  * * *

  The crew of the ship heard the shouting and the commotion from the city. They hurried to the rail and gazed towards the temple to see what everyone was shouting about. They saw the large demon marching down the front steps of the temple, its eyes fixed on the ship tied up to the wharf.

  “Look at that beast,” shouted one of the sailors. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that. What is it?”

  “One of the Emperor’s demons,” a soldier on the wharf answered. “We don’t see much of them unless the Emperor is in a really foul mood. Someone will die today, and not in a very pleasant way, either. I would stay out of its way if I were you.”

  “But he is staring right at us,” one of the sailors gasped. “Look at his eyes. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  The captain of the ship pushed his way to the rail, the sailors moving apart to make room for him after they saw who it was. He stared at the approaching demon and swallowed hard. He had expected some type of reprimand after the spymaster came onboard hurt in Meliban. Clarvoy’s mistakes were always taken out on somebody else. He had fretted about the problem the entire voyage back from Fakara. When he heard the spymaster mumble something about the enemy knowing that he was coming, the captain remembered Lady Mystic’s conversation the day he had left the Island of Darkness. At first he could not believe that the Emperor’s daughter was a spy, but he knew it was true now. The problem, as the captain saw it, was that the Emperor would never believe that Lady Mystic was a spy. Vand would believe his own spawn over a sea captain.

  Knowing that the vile creature was coming for him, the captain moved away from the rail. He looked around in desperation and saw that there was no escape. He looked once more at the approaching demon and felt his blood run cold. His whole body shivered at the thought of the demon’s touch. Hurriedly, he scampered up the mast as the demon drew closer to the ship. He pulled a line free from the mast and hurriedly tied it around his neck. By the time he had completed the knot, the demon stood alongside the ship. Shiny black claws reached out to snare the captain, but he deftly avoid them. He ducked behind the mast and then dove towards the deck. A loud crack rent the air as the rope went taut, the captain’s body swinging wildly from the end of the rope a mere pace above the deck.

  * * *

  The city of Teramar on the Island of Darkness was teeming with excitement. A sea of red uniforms flowed through the city as soldiers clogged the streets. Merchants closed up their shops as they ran out of merchandise to sell, and the inns were overflowing with drunken soldiers partying before the war. Outside the city, tents and campfires dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see. Tens of thousands of red-clad soldiers were still converging on the already packed city as the sun sank towards the western horizon.

  On the roof of the main building hosting the headquarters of the army, Doralin stood watching the assembly of his armies. His red uniform was resplendent with numerous gold bars and stripes denoting the highest military rank afforded to an officer in Vand’s army, that of premer. There were only four premers in t
he entire army, and each had dozens of generals under his command. For the coming invasion, Premer Doralin had been assigned thirty generals, each commanding a force of ten thousand men. Those armies were now converging on Teramar to board the ships.

  “It is quite a sight,” smiled General Valatosa, “is it not?”

  “It is,” the premer nodded in satisfaction. “We have waited for this moment for far too long, but it is finally upon us. Are your men prepared?”

  “My army arrived last week,” reported the general. “They are tired of sitting and waiting. Should I assume that we will be boarding within the next few days?”

  “Your men will be boarding tonight,” answered the premer. “We have been placed on hold by a message from the Emperor, but I have been promised an answer by sundown.”

  “On hold?” questioned General Valatosa. “Then the attack may not occur as planned?”

  “The attack will occur on schedule,” replied Premer Doralin. “I understand that there may be a last minute change in strategy, but that will not affect your army. You will still be the spearhead that lances into the enemy’s heart. Make sure that the spirits of your men are high. They are to set the example for the other armies.”

  “About those other armies,” frowned the general. “Many of the newest arrivals are a bit too deep into their ale. Fights have broken out at the inns. Can’t you put a stop to it?”

  “Let the men enjoy their last night on Motanga,” shrugged the premer. “The ale will run out before too long in any event. The voyage is long enough that no one will arrive for battle in a drunken stupor.”

  “My men certainly won’t,” retorted the general. “I have placed the inns off limits to my army.”

  “Good,” the premer smiled mischievously as he looked at the hard-nosed general. “I have a task for them. I want you to organize the loading of the ships. There are a hundred ships already in the harbor. You will begin loading them at sundown. Make the process simple and quick. Once a ship is loaded, it is to sail out of the harbor to make room for another. I have two hundred ships off the coast waiting to get in.”

  “My men can handle that efficiently,” declared the general. “Why are we waiting for sundown?”

  “Just a precaution,” answered Doralin. “If there are spies on the island, they will not see the ships depart. I have been using the same technique with the supply ships to Duran, but the movement of this many ships is bound to be noticed. But by then we will be well on our way,” he added with a grin. “It is never wise to let the enemy know that you are coming.”

  “So the loading must be accomplished before daybreak,” nodded the general. “We can do that. I will start organizing it now.”

  The premer merely nodded as the general left the roof. He turned and continued to gaze with admiration on the largest army ever to be assembled. His chest swelled with pride as he noted that it was his army that would strike the first blow on the mainland.

  * * *

  When Emperor Marak entered his office, the mage Ophia was waiting for him, which was highly irregular.

  “Here or the roof?” the Emperor asked without preamble.

  “Better on the roof,” answered Ophia. “The messages are coming fast and furiously.”

  “Brief me on the way,” nodded the Torak as he left the office and headed for the roof.

  “First was a message from Rykoma,” Ophia explained. “Hundreds of Vand’s ships are missing from the Island of Darkness. They must have set sail during the night.”

  “Hundreds?” frowned the emperor. “Can you be more specific?”

  “Not really,” Ophia shook her head. “I asked the same question. All that he would say is that yesterday the harbor of one of the cities was crammed with ships. The coastline was also crowded with ships at anchor. This morning there were none. The harbors of the other three cities are still crowded with ships.”

  “Assuming that they divided the ships evenly,” Marak speculated, “that would be around two hundred and fifty ships. Of course, they may not be divided evenly. Any idea where they are heading?”

  “None,” replied Ophia as they reached the roof. “There was also a message from Rhoda at Raven’s Point. Several attempts to talk to you, actually. She refused to state a message. I don’t think she trusts me.”

  “Don’t take it personally,” replied Marak. “Contact her now. She is dealing with some sensitive issues and was told to speak to me directly. I don’t want anything lost in the process of getting the information secondhand.”

  “I understand,” nodded Ophia as she connected with Rhoda.

  “What do you have for me, Rhoda?” asked the Torak.

  “It has begun,” replied Rhoda. “Premer Doralin has left Teramar for the mainland.”

  “Anything on the destination?” asked Marak. “Or the strength?”

  “Nothing on the destination,” answered Rhoda, “but our source was willing to speculate. The suggestion was made that since Teramar is a southern city, and it was the point of departure, the Sakova would be a likely bet, but that is wholly conjecture. As for the strength, the number three hundred thousand was mentioned. They are searching for more information.”

  “They?” questioned Emperor Marak.

  “He has help now,” replied Rhoda. “I should not say more. Fisher is aware of it.”

  “That is good enough for me,” replied the emperor. “Stay in position, Rhoda. I may need to contact you, and I may not be here when that happens.”

  “I will be here,” agreed Rhoda as Emperor Marak signaled for Ophia to drop the air tunnel.

  “Weave an air tunnel to Angragar,” Emperor Marak instructed Ophia. “Tell Rejji to contact Myka. I will be there within the hour.”

  Ophia nodded and started creating the air tunnel. Emperor Marak wove his own air tunnel to StarCity and asked to speak to Lyra. The Star of Sakova responded promptly.

  “It is happening,” Emperor Marak declared. “No word on the destination yet, but I suspect it is Alamar.”

  “Are you sure it is not another test?” asked Lyra. “Perhaps an attack on Zaramilden?”

  “Not this time,” replied the Torak. “Three hundred thousand are currently sailing towards us. This will be a test, but not the type you were thinking about.”

  “Merciful Kaltara!” gasped the Star of Sakova. “We are not ready for this. That many men will walk right over Alamar. That is almost a third of their entire force heading for one city. I was hoping that the information we sent to them would cause them to send a smaller force.”

  “Perhaps this is the smaller force,” sighed Emperor Marak. “We don’t have enough information about their strategy. Get your skimmers into the water immediately.”

  “I am ordering it as we speak,” replied Lyra.

  Marak could hear the other mages in the background issuing orders and alerting the forces. He was torn over whether or not to activate the skimmers from Angragar. If the attacks were indeed aimed at Alamar, the skimmers from Angragar would be useless. Worse, he would have revealed their existence. Yet if the attacks were aimed more to the north, they would be essential.

  “I have to get aloft,” declared Emperor Marak. “You need to be in contact with someone in StarCity at all times. I will be posting mages on the roof here day and night, but I will be elsewhere. Also bear in mind that these communications are not necessarily secure any more. Anything revealing must be communicated in another way.”

  “I understand,” replied the Star of Sakova. “I am heading for Alamar, but this palace will be manned all of the time.”

  “Is it wise for you to go to Alamar?” asked the Torak.

  “I must,” answered Lyra. “It is the only point of contact with the enemy that we can be assured of. After Alamar falls, a lot depends upon Vand’s strategy, and we don’t know what that is.”

  “Stay in StarCity,” commanded the Torak. “I will be with you shortly. I can get you to Alamar faster than a choka.”

  Lyra frowned as
she wondered how Marak could accomplish that, but she agreed to wait for him. The Torak dropped the air tunnel and dashed from the roof.

  Chapter 2

  The Armada

  Marak had bundled himself in a heavy cloak, but the cold air still ripped at his body. His exposed fingers felt numb, and he could no longer feel his ears. The wind tore by at a rate faster than he had ever experienced before. Marak glanced down at the clouds below him. Small patches of the sea were sometimes visible, but Marak worried that they would not find the hidden armada.

  “Perhaps we should fly lower?” suggested the Torak. “I don’t want to miss Vand’s ships.”

  “We will miss nothing,” Myka snorted. “Ships are much slower than I am. What takes them days to cover, I can do in hours. When we reach the area where it might be possible to find them, I will go lower and slower.”

  “I hope it will be warmer then,” quipped the Torak. “It is freezing up here.”

  “And I thought you were half Chula?” retorted Myka. “The cold air is refreshing. It will invigorate your body.”

  “If my body ever thaws,” replied Marak.

  They flew on in silence for a while before Marak felt Myka slowing down. The clouds rushed up past him as he gazed downward. Suddenly the clouds disappeared as the dragon descended out of them. There was nothing below them but deep blue water.

  “Did you see anything?” asked the Torak.

  “Not yet,” answered Myka. “Have faith in your winged warrior, Torak. We will find them.”

  The dragon rose into the clouds again and picked up speed. Every so often the dragon would dip below the clouds for a quick look around. Finally, Marak saw the armada, and it was massive. Hundreds of ships bobbed upon the ocean like a large school of tiny fish. The sails spread out to the far horizon.

  “Merciful Kaltara!” exclaimed the Torak. “I cannot imagine trying to repel such a force. Where are the skimmers?”

  “I do not see them,” answered Myka, “but they are much smaller. We might have to go lower to see them.”