A Warrior's Path Page 28

  The approaching balls of fire arced in slow motion, and general Etrusin took one last look over his troops. A line of soldiers, once the proud army of Kesitul, now stood pitifully on the mountainside awaiting their doom. They looked up at the fiery death in the sky, and it reflected in every one of their eyes. The general couldn't shake the idea that they looked evil, many of them deformed from their injuries and their eyes glowing with the reflection of flames. The scene somehow looked so familiar to him. Then the fire hit, and his was a world of pain and light.

  A terror-stricken scream rent the dark silence of the bedroom as emperor Geilo awoke from his nightmare. It took him a moment to realize who and where he was, but for that moment he knew only the fear of death. He sat up panting heavily and nearly jumped out of his skin when two guards rushed in through the door.

  “Sire, we heard a scream,” one of the guards explained.

  Geilo held up his hand and nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” he said, “but it was only a dream.”

  The guard nodded. “Then, if you are certain you are well...”

  The emperor nodded and waved them out of the room. When the doors were closed, he heaved a weary sigh. In fact, Geilo was not certain he was well at all, even though he reassured the guards night after night when they rushed in after he awoke screaming from one of his nightmares. Between the dreams of being Etrusin in his last moments and the dreams of wasting away from the poisonous stab of a bejeweled dagger, he was quite certain something was very wrong.

  He sat in his bed, as he did after every nightmare, and pondered its meaning. Why would he be having these same dreams over and over again? Obviously they had to do with his recent decisions regarding the empire. This, however, confused him to no end. Had not Minotros himself told Geilo to go forth? Had the God of Fate not reassured him that the aggressor would fall?

  “Go forth, Geilo. Brandish your sword. Your enemies cannot stand against you. Know this: the aggressor will fall...”

  Geilo muttered to himself, reciting the counsel of Minotros. As he did so he mentally stepped through the dreams he had been having lately. Despite the seemingly reassuring message from Minotros, he could not figure any of it to come out to some kind of positive message. He thought of Etrusin, the disastrous ambush that had played out in his dream, the fire falling from the sky. He remembered thinking that his own people, the army of Kesitul, looked evil in those last moments, like an army of demons with dark clouds raining fire around them.

  A chill traveled up Geilo's spine, and every hair on his body stood straight up. It had been a glimpse of his very first vision. As he thought back to the things that he had seen, the faces of those he had called demons all looked chillingly familiar to him. In that moment, he realized his folly. He did not understand why the God of Fate would have misled him, but he had deciphered the hint hidden in those divine words. He knew what he had to do.

  Geilo leapt out of bed and ran across the room to the doors. He burst through them, startling the guards waiting outside. He left them behind stuttering confused questions. Wildly he bolted through the palace, causing a stir whenever he happened to pass someone. He rushed down some steps that led to a side exit near the stables. He nearly ran over the poor stable hand that was tending to the horses that night.

  Minutes later the emperor, still clad in only his nightclothes, came pelting around the palace on his hastily-saddled and bridled horse. As the sound of pounding hooves faded west, several guards hurried out of the palace. One of them stomped up to the stable hand, who was looking quite bewildered.

  “Which way did he go?” the guard asked gruffly.

  The boy pointed.

  The guard looked back to his comrades. “One of us will have to go after him,” he said.

  They all exchanged looks of uncertainty. The smallest of the group of large men stepped forward. “I will be able to ride the fastest,” he volunteered.

  The rest of them nodded. They looked over the horses quickly. They all silently agreed that the emperor must have gone mad. He hadn't even taken the fastest horse. This fact did not bring them much comfort, as they knew that Geilo, the master horseman who had defeated Reisothin, would manage to bring out the best in the animal. The smaller guard climbed up on the mount they had chosen and kicked the stallion into the fastest gallop he could.

  “Good luck, Weipo!” the other guards called after him. “Bring him back safe!” When he was out of sight they all glanced at one another. Even after all these years, Geilo was still the finest rider in the empire. They knew it was not likely that Weipo would catch up to him at all.

  * * *

  A line of sharp elven arrows pointed up at an angle, seemingly aimed at some distant spot in mid-air. Each glinting, metal tip held steady, awaiting the call to fly free toward its target. That call came, and each bowstring was loosed in unison, propelling the elegant missiles in perfect projectile motion. Up and forward they went, climbing until gravity overtook their ascent, then down they came. Every one of the perfectly-crafted arrows thudded into the distant practice targets that had been set up on the training field.

  Tilon noticed with pride that almost all of the arrows were either in or just outside of the center circle. That each target had exactly five arrows in it reassured him that the accurate aim was not simply chance; he had assigned five archers to a target. In little more than two months he had taken the best archers Etrusin's army had to offer and finely tuned their skill to a degree not likely known by many humans. Though none of them were consistently as good as even the worst elven archer, they were definitely able enough, in Tilon's estimation, to provide the army with a formidable weapon that would help swing the battle in their favor. With the added assistance of expertly-fashioned elven bows and magical elven arrows that bit more fiercely than their human-made counterparts, few would be able to stand in defiance of Kesitul's line of archers and their Shionen allies.

  A commotion from across the camp captured the attention of the training archers and their instructor. While the humans strained to hear the calls that echoed from just beyond the camp, Tilon heard them perfectly and smiled. The normally reserved Shionen warrior dashed off toward the sounds.

  Approaching the camp from the west was a small band of man-sized figures. Tilon suddenly burst into a Shionen melody that started out powerfully, but then shifted to a more subdued song that drifted on the wind gently. Although he did not sing the entire song loudly, indeed at times it was little more than a hum, the entire camp could hear it as clearly as if the elf were standing beside each person. Every once in a while, Tilon would pause, and a feminine voice could be heard on the air continuing the song. Together the voices mingled and entranced every man and woman who could hear it. All throughout the camp there was a palpable sensation of returning home, and it left everyone feeling joyful and reassured.

  Indeed, the melody was a Shionen homecoming song, though none of the humans in the camp could have known that from the words. The emotion of the voices that drifted through the air and the magic of elvensong transcended the barrier of language. Thus no one was surprised when the distant figures came close enough for familiar features to be discerned, and it was revealed that the voice that joined Tilon's belonged to Marui.

  From out of the crowd that had formed behind Tilon stepped General Etrusin. The proud commander grinned broadly at the approach of the scouting party. That grin became even wider when he counted all of those that left on the journey almost two months ago, including a couple that he had not known about.

  “Su-Ni!” came the cry of Ninei from the crowd. The diplomatic advisor rushed out and ran toward the group while Ini'io, Ninei's other student, watched Su-Ni's return with disbelief.

  The scouting party stepped onto the campground and was greeted happily by the awaiting crowd. Komeris walked up to general Etrusin and bowed deeply. Etrusin pulled him into a big hug, slapping him on the back happily. Su-Ni was inundated by questions from Ninei, who was hugging her in relief, and Ini'io, wh
o still could not believe that she had come back alive. Tilon and Marui also embraced as kin who had been apart for some time, even though the journey had been short relative to the Shionen lifespan.

  The mood in the camp quickly turned celebratory, and plans were already being laid for a party that night. Before the revelry, however, there was business to attend to. Etrusin motioned to Komeris, who nodded and turned to gather together the scouts. The general moved off to his tent, and everyone who had gone through the mountains followed soon after. Tilon joined them. They left the crowd to their plans of the festivities to come that night. So caught up was the camp in its excitement, that the homecomers were hardly missed.

  In Etrusin's tent, the mood was a stark contrast to the one outside. Though the scouts were happy to see their kin again, the message they returned with was hardly a hopeful one. Several minutes went by before anyone spoke. It was Tilon who broke the silence.

  “What do you have to report?” the elf asked somewhat impatiently.

  Komeris sighed heavily. “I believe we have discovered that which emperor Geilo fears,” he said gravely.

  “The enemy?” Etrusin asked almost rhetorically.

  The captain looked around at the rest of the scouting party. “Well, we have discussed it much on the return journey and we have agreed that, given all the signs, there can be little doubt.”

  The general leaned forward eagerly and pushed his woefully incomplete map across his table. “Tell me,” he urged, his voice nearly a whisper.

  “Well,” began Komeris, “we made our way through the mountains by traveling a pass that runs across the southern part of the chain.” He ran his finger along the southern coastline of the map.

  “Did you see the ocean?” Etrusin asked.

  “Alas, we did not,” the young Denlin moaned sadly.

  Komeris nodded in agreement and continued. “The pass is about a fortnight's travel on horse through to the other side, though it took us a bit longer. It was there where we spied our enemy.”

  “You saw them?” the general with intense interest.

  “Yes,” confirmed the captain. “Reniu and I rode out ahead before the others broke camp to see if we were close to exiting the pass. Just beyond the mountains was a city and a training field. On the field were about five or six thousand soldiers. They seemed to be preparing.”

  “Preparing?” Etrusin asked.

  Komeris shrugged. “We never had the chance to get a closer look. We went back to camp to decide how to proceed. We moved into the trees and set up camp for the night. We had planned to return as a group the next morning, but that night we were attacked.”

  “Attacked?” exclaimed the general.

  “By whom?” Tilon demanded.

  “Men, six of them,” replied the darkly clad O'eintsu.

  “Seven,” corrected Marui, “or six men and one other being that was too cowardly to show itself. I could sense it, though, hovering just beyond the battle.”

  “Magical?” Tilon asked his elven kin.

  Marui responded with a simple nod.

  “Was anyone harmed?” Etrusin asked.

  Pei-Shi stepped forward. “One horse was killed, and another was made unfit for riding, which is why our return took so much longer. I received a fairly deep cut on my shoulder, but fortunately my new student was there to defend me,” she said proudly, indicating Su-Ni.

  The general raised an eyebrow at the former student of diplomacy. Many questions ran through his head about the young woman, but they would have to wait. “What of your attackers?” he asked the group.

  “Two died, one by my bow. As he charged, he cried out, calling us 'dogs of the empire,'” Marui answered.

  Etrusin leaned back in surprise. “How did he know you came from the empire?”

  Komeris shook his head, unable to offer an explanation.

  “The seventh,” said Marui, “the one I mentioned that hid in the shadows. It felt very familiar.” She turned to Tilon. “Remember that 'magician' in the forest when we were tracking Komeris and his party?”

  The elf nodded. “The shapeshifter.”

  “Yes,” Marui responded, “I believe he was spying on us. More specifically your people, general,” she directed at Etrusin.

  “But spying for who?” the general asked.

  “The descendents of your own ancestors,” Marui replied.

  “Iono'itio,” the general whispered in realization.

  “You know of the Gleaming City?” Komeris asked in surprise.

  Etrusin nodded. “Tilon has told me much in your absence, as I imagine Marui has done for you.”

  “Yes,” the captain confirmed.

  “If they are the brood of Teomin's lost army, and have sent spies and attacked our scouts, then I do not doubt what emperor Geilo has foreseen,” the general stated with a deep sigh.

  “The signs of our people too tell of conflict,” agreed Tilon, “which is why we have offered ourselves as your allies.”

  The entire scouting party stared incredulously at the elf, but it was Marui who seemed the most shocked. “Tilon, is this true?” she asked.

  “Yes!” answered General Etrusin happily. “Ranks of Shionen archers have joined us in training. Tilon himself is teaching my best archers how to refine their skill. With the addition of their brave warriors and more coming from the empire almost every day now, our numbers have swelled to over six thousand.”

  The look Marui gave her brother now was one of admiration.

  The general continued, “With these soldiers, and the knowledge of what is to come, we will have a great advantage in this battle.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement.

  Etrusin noticed that there was one among the party who had not said one word during this entire meeting. “Reniu, you have not yet offered your input. What say you to all this?”

  Naturally, the burly man scowled. “I'm agreein with you, sir. It'll be an easier fight for us, knowin' what we're knowin'. In fact, this whole time I've been thinkin' of somethin' that's been in my head since we started headin' back.”

  “What is it?” the general asked with genuine interest.

  “Well, the pass we went through the way there and back was pretty easy, as the captain said, but especially for a small bunch like us. There are a few places where the mountains crowd in, you know, and it'd be mighty hard for an army to march through 'cept a few men across,” Reniu explained.

  Etrusin's eyes glinted with comprehension. “So, we could move our army into these tight spots and lie in wait for our enemy. This way we could strike at them before they could even get to us,” he mused.

  “Yes, sir,” agreed Reniu. “I think yer followin' me just fine.”

  General Etrusin stroked his chin thoughtfully while everyone praised Reniu's cleverness. It was a good plan, and the finer details were forming in Etrusin's mind as his scouting party began to take on the mood of the camp outside. It sounded as though it was shaping up to be a huge celebration, one which the scouts now felt like they could enjoy. The general dismissed them gratefully and went out to join in the festivities himself, though he knew he would have to order an early night. Tomorrow they would begin setting their plan in motion.

  * * *

  Like so many blades of grass did the seven thousand human soldiers of Ionotu's army appear as they stood waiting for their king's next command. Every once in a while, the lines of men would ripple in waves as word made its way back through the ranks. The way ahead was narrow, and they would have to march through in a different formation. At least, that seemed to be the explanation at first.

  Laernus had easily managed to work his way toward the back of the formation early in the march. He was the only one to communicate any information to the two thousand shapeshifting allies who were taking up the rear. None of the other men seemed too concerned about shouting back the calls that came from the forward lines. Now the seer stood beside Agucho, the commander of the Fiu-Het army. The two stood there watching Vethisir's men
shifting uneasily.

  “They say he is riding back,” Laernus informed the shapeshifter.

  “The king or the general?” Agucho asked.

  The wizard warrior shrugged. “Likely both.”

  “What is the purpose of this?”

  “The way ahead is not very wide,” Laernus answered. “We will have to narrow our formation.”

  Agucho rolled his eyes. “So glad the king thought that was worthy of a visit.”

  “Do not despair, my friend. Our time is almost at hand,” the seer reassured.

  “Scheming together as always!” The shout came from the mounted Vethisir riding next to his king.

  Laernus grimaced at the irritating general, but Agucho's expression was inscrutable. “Scheming is a word not oft used of allies,” the Fiu-Het commander retorted.

  “Allies,” Vethisir spat.

  Orbein shot them both a dangerous glare.

  “To what do we owe this pleasure, highness?” Agucho asked with a haunting grin.

  “We will have to lengthen the line to navigate the terrain ahead,” the king replied.

  “While we appreciate the time you took to ride back here, it was not necessary to do so. We would have gotten the message,” Agucho told him.

  Orbein bared his teeth. “We also have a...request,” he said, though the meaning of this last word was obvious.

  Agucho raised what, for his race, served as an eyebrow. “You have but to ask,” he said smugly with a bow.

  “Given your race’s talents,” the king began, “it would be best if you led the way. The general and I will, of course, guide you. This way some of your soldiers can fly ahead to scout the area and make sure that we don't meet with any unexpected resistance.”

  The shapeshifter shot Laernus a sidelong glance and stifled a wry laugh. The king sounded ridiculous, making this sound like a noble assignment. It was really an order for the fodder to get in its place. Agucho knew that the show was merely for the rest of his race, who believed Orbein to be a true ally. He bowed again and turned to shout the orders to his troops. The king and the general rode back to the front without another word. Agucho, Laernus, and the rest of the Fiu-Het were not far behind.