The Powterosian War (Book 5) (19 page)

“We killed, in all, several cohorts of orcs in the southern Sengenwhan swamps, but as we advanced south, their numbers and gatherings grew larger. General Tarquak didn’t recall the orcs there to the battle at Botahar. If anything, the numbers in the swamps have increased.”

Saxthor looked over at the princely throne of Hoya. Bodrin remembered the throne where a rampant dragon and lion faced each other in the ebony carvings. The creatures were resplendent with ivory eyes, teeth, and claws below the great gilded eagle with wings spread at the chair’s crest. For an instant, he remembered Saxthor’s Great Uncle Henri on the throne in their youth when times were secure. That throne deterred all threats from the surrounding kingdoms. Saxthor sank onto the heavily carved chair of the crown prince of the former Talok-Lemnos kingdom. Now danger was all around them.

“What’s your take on this, Bodrin?”

“Saxthor, I talked with General Socockensmek at Favriana before he left to return to his headquarters at Heedra. He’s gotten similar reports of orcs from the locals. There’s more, he had just received word that though Admiral Agros defeated the Dreaddrac fleet just above Olnak, the enemy fleet was able to land at least a full legion at the Sengenwhan border before retreating back up the Tixosian Sea.” Saxthor sat forward on the throne, his arm slapped down on Bodrin’s.

“Will they attack Olnak from the land?”

“Probably not, they landed too far north for such an attack. Socockensmek and I think the legions are now heading for Neuyokkasin.”

“Neuyokkasin!” Saxthor jerked stiff, then sank again to the seat. Agitated, he rose and nodded to the chamberlain at the door, who immediately tapped the floor with his staff. All others in the room quickly left the two men alone.

“Locals fleeing before them have reported such. They are moving southeast to meet up with orcs in the swamps of southern Sengenwha that I found gathering in greater and greater numbers. We fear there is to be a direct attack on Neuyokkasin, though we don’t have any proof as to the specific target.”

“Heedra, you think?”

“It could be any of the three great river cities, Hyemka, Heedra, or Favriana. But if they dare and can overrun it, they are most likely to attack Heedra directly and open the way to seize Konnotan before you can move an army to defend the capital.”

Saxthor slumped back into the throne with a slight gasp. He looked out the window, trying to analyze this new information. Bodrin gave him a moment. Saxthor moved to the ornate desk nearby and leaned on it.

“Bodrin, I’ve been receiving reports all week about the collapse of the resistance all across the north. The Duke and Duchess of Heggolstockin were murdered by Dreaddrac forces; the dukedom has capitulated. I’ve not heard from Feldrik, but if it holds out, it stands alone in the northwest.”

“Can King Grekenbach send an army to route the Dreaddrac forces and retake Heggolstockin?”

“King Grekenbach is under siege at Graushdemheimer. You remember Graushdemheimer. I just received word this morning that Dreaddrac has some new monstrous, armored, burrowing things that are undermining the city walls. Who knows how long he can hold out? So the way is open for an army to come down through Heggolstockin overrun Girdane and sail here to Hoya.”

“It can’t be. Graushdemheimer is a grand ancient city. I remember when we traveled through there on the adventure. I thought that city impregnable,” Bodrin said, shocked. “And you say the way is open for Dreaddrac to attack Hoya itself now?”

“I was about to take this army to support Girdane to prevent Dreaddrac from controlling river access to Hoya. General Sekkarian will remain here with the garrison and hold both Hoya and Tossledorn. We must not remove any forces from Tossledorn. Should Graushdemheimer fall the refugees will have no where to go but the fortress. The enemy must not get past Tossledorn. If that falls to the enemy, they will have a straight shot south through the provinces of Talok and Lemnos to attack Konnotan from the east.”

“So there are two pincers then, the one forming in southeastern Sengenwha and the one attacking Graushdemheimer,” Bodrin said. He stood up. “The forces must be building in Sengenwha awaiting General Vylvex’s defeat of Graushdem and his move south.”

“If Graushdemheimer falls, we’re lost,” Saxthor said. He slumped again and returned to sit down on his throne. He then looked up at Bodrin. “Did you see Dagmar when you stopped at Botahar?”

“No, Saxthor, she left after the battle and hasn’t been seen there since.”

“She attacked and burned that dreadful old Prertsten Palace in the very center of Prertsten,” Saxthor said, finally grinning. “She’s turned out to be quite the warrior-queen.”

“Burned the palace?” Bodrin said. “I remember you telling me about it when you wouldn’t allow me to enter for fear I’d look too much like a warrior and make the guards suspicious. What a dismal land that was.”

“I expect she did it to make Prince Pindradese abandon his siege of Feldrik Fortress and pull his forces back from Heggolstockin and Sengenwha to defend that decrepit principality of his.”

“What a daring feat,” Bodrin said. “She’s quite a woman.”

“Yes, she is,” Saxthor said. Bodrin saw the far away look on Saxthor’s face. The stress lines in the king’s face smoothed out.

“She’ll be all right; no evil will befall her, Saxthor.”

Saxthor looked into Bodrin’s eyes and squeezed his hand. He then rose and the severe lines on his face returned as he walked to the balcony doors and threw them open. Bodrin went to his friend.

“We’re losing the war all across the north, Bodrin.”

“Don’t despair Saxthor. You sent word to the emperor your cousin for aid. Surely he will respond. Prince Augusteros has been at the court for so many years; and he married the princess imperial further cementing your relationship. I’m certain the emperor will come to our aid. The imperial army must be massing at this moment to support us.”

“Yes,” Saxthor said. He looked out over the city, the docks, and the river. He looked north out over the dark waters of Lake Pundar. “Yes, Emperor Engwan and the imperial army will come.” Saxthor turned to his friend. “They may be our only hope.”

* * *

Queen Dagmar sped down into the great plain of northern Sengenwha, leading her band of raiders back toward Botahar. The formerly lush lands covered with rich field, comfortable farmhouses, thick stands of forest, and pastures dotted with plump cattle and sheep now looked abandoned. Weeds grew up through the burned stubble of fields and abandoned farmhouses stood engulfed in weeds or as burned shells in front of orchards chopped down to stumps for firewood. Only the occasional deer now advanced cautiously into the pastures where the grass had gone to seed. Ruin was everywhere as they passed along the edges of forests to avoid being seen by Dreaddrac’s occupation forces. That night the raiders found shelter in an old barn near a ravine for a quick escape. The queen sat beside a fire with her commanders.

“I hope that foray will take the pressure off Feldrik, and make Tarquak think again before he attempts another attack on Botahar. When he learns we’ve cut his supply lines, he’ll have to pause,” Dagmar said. She poked the fire with a stick and enjoyed the flutter of sparks before the coals hid again under their ashes. She put another log on the fire and rubbed her hands in the warmth.

“Pindradese will surely withdraw his forces to protect his capital now that you burned his palace,” an officer said.

“He’s a vain man,” Dagmar said. “Calamidese often said so.”

“It won’t make Tarquak withdraw though,” the officer said.

“No, he fears the sorcerer-king too much to withdraw even if he doesn’t have the forces to attack Botahar again, as yet. At least this will release Feldrik’s forces to retake northern Heggolstockin. I hope the duke will be able to retake the province and keep Pindradese from returning.”

“Perhaps King Saxthor can come to their aid.”

“King Saxthor can’t be everywhere,” Dagmar said. She sighed. “He has managed to appear whenever we’ve needed him though.”

“Yes, he has, Majesty. The king seems very fond of you, if I may say so.”

Dagmar turned to the officer, searching his eyes which he lowered as he poked the new log to settle it in the coals.

“You think him fond of me?” Dagmar asked.

The officer looked up at the queen. “I think the king wishes to marry you, Majesty.”

Dagmar felt her face flush. She rubbed it with both hands.

“The fire is hot,” she said, looking into it. “He’s quite a king, you know.”

“That was amazing how he rescued your family, spiriting you all out of Sekcmet Palace and the city right out from under that wraith’s nose.” The officer chuckled. He glanced at the queen with a sly smile.

Dagmar quickly looked down at the fire. For a moment neither said anything. Dagmar was remembering the first time she saw Saxthor in the Neuyokkasinian embassy before their daring escape. She thought back on the king, when they rode in the afternoons with the setting sun behind him, its rays a massive crown and the golden sun showing her hair in the breeze to its best advantage. She smiled, then quickly put on a serious face, fearing the officer might see her feelings displayed there.

“He’s so amazing in so many ways. He’s so gentle yet so powerful. His men love him; they’ll follow him anywhere. He’s all a king should be.”

“I’m sure he’d be a wonderful husband as well as king,” the officer said. Dagmar glanced at the man who looked sheepish and dropped his head, shuffling his feet.

“Saxthor is too focused on the war to be concerned with marriage now. He’d never consider me, I’m a poor queen of a defunct kingdom and even that may be temporary. Soon I shall be a beggar. Saxthor will find a more suitable queen when the time comes.” Dagmar threw the stick she’d doodled with into the fire. She went to her spot by a log and rolled herself in her blanket to sleep. Pretend as she might, she couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t get the memories out of her head. She was cranky in the morning chill and didn’t speak, but rolled up her bedroll, ate her breakfast, and led the raiders on southeast back to Botahar.

Countess Tonelia Joins the War Effort

Countess Tonelia Tezentok Vicksnak of Vicksylva confronted Chatra Rakmar in his Helshian Court Palace office. Her brilliant blue eyes gleamed against her olive complexion surrounded by her glossy black hair she’d swept up into a lustrous spiraling cone. She’d given up long flowing gowns as soon as Bodrin had left for the front. She was still imposing in her robin’s egg blue riding outfit. Her black leather boots rose to her calves. She embellished the simple outfit, wearing only her wedding ring and sapphire engagement ring on her left hand with a large, teardrop ruby pendant. She leaned forward over the chatra’s desk, pointing her finger at him, the ruby swinging like blood in his face.

“I tell you, I’ll join Bodrin at the front,” Tonelia said.

“Countess,” Rakmar said. “I must insist again that you retire to your estate and leave the war to the men at the front. Major Count Vicksnak would have the king behead me if I permitted you to endanger your life getting to the front. Please consider my situation.” He shuffled further back in his chair as the threatening finger grew closer to his nose.

She stood straight up. “You won’t tell me where he is then?”

“I simply cannot, Madam. It could mean my life.”

Tonelia stared at the chatra for a moment with as severe a face as she could muster. Though the man fidgeted with his writing instrument and refused to hold her stare he wouldn’t budge.

“Humph!” she grumbled, undeterred and turned, storming out of his office and down the hall. That sniveling worm won’t stop me, she thought.

Tonelia had decided once and for all, after burning a small roast the day before, that domestic life was for the servants; she was joining Bodrin at the front and that was that. She got to her horse and rode south of the city, straight for Memlatec’s tower. She reached the great pointed oak door with elfin-forged black iron hinges that seemed momentarily forbidding. She banged the knocker, the bronze dragon head clacking down on the flared-wing phoenix, frozen in a screech. Presently, she heard a metal bar scraping on the door’s backside and the door cracked open.

Aleman peeked out and, seeing Tonelia, pulled back the door.

“Good afternoon, Your Ladyship,” the bedazzled old housekeeper said.

“Good afternoon to you, too, Aleman,” Tonelia said, pushing the door back further and rushing past the poor man who nearly stumbled. “Is Wizard Memlatec within?”

“He’s in the tower,” Aleman said, recovering and pointing up the staircase. “I’ll call him for you.”

“Don’t bother, I’ll go up.” Tonelia went on past the housekeeper, shaking his head. She glanced back, smiling at him from the first steps.

“He won’t like being surprised, Madam. You best wait for me to call to him.”

Tonelia was already climbing the stairs two at a time and heard Aleman close the door with a bang below. When she glanced down he was scratching his head and mumbling something.

At the landing outside the workroom, Tonelia hesitated, catching her breath. I can’t afford to anger him now, she thought. She stepped forward and lightly knocked on the door that was ajar.

“Tonelia,” came the wizard’s deep voice from inside. She heard him crossing the floor of the workroom; the door opened. His thick white hair, bushy eyebrows, and long flowing mustache and beard framed the two brilliant, violet eyes. His smile was comforting. “What brings you here? Won’t you come in and sit down?”

Tonelia nodded to the wizard who intimidated her, as he did most people. She followed him to the desk but after leaving the confrontation with Rakmar, she was too stressed to take a seat.

“Thank you for seeing me, Memlatec,” Tonelia said. “I hope you are well.”

“I am, Countess. Thank you for asking. What brings you to my abode? Shall I call to Aleman to bring us refreshments?”

“No refreshments, thank you, My Lord.” Tonelia finally sat, shuffling herself to a more comfortable position on the hard seat. Memlatec moved around behind the desk and sat down watching her. She flushed slightly responding to his reassuring smile.

“Then how may I help you?”

“Memlatec, I must know where Bodrin is,” she said. She slid forward on the seat. Her animated eyes now looked the wizard straight in the eye. Her hand grasped the edge of the desk.

“Have you been to see Chatra Rakmar? I’m sure he might be able to give you the latest news we have on the count’s whereabouts.”

“I know you, Memlatec; you know everything. You probably know I went first to the chatra, but he’s afraid to tell me where Bodrin is. He’s afraid if I surprise Bodrin at the front, he’ll be furious and have the king punish him. Memlatec, I’m going to join Bodrin. I can’t stand sitting at Vicksylva while Bodrin is risking his life at the front.”

“I see,” the wizard said. He watched a small crystal spinning as his fingernail flicked it around on the desk. Tonelia looked at the jewel. Neither spoke for a moment. Memlatec looked up at her. “You know not only would you put yourself at risk traveling across country that may be infested with orcs and wraiths, but in so doing, you make Bodrin and the king take valuable time and resources to protect you in addition to fighting to save the kingdom.”

Tonelia jumped up from the chair. Memlatec rose slowly, motioning her to be seated again, but Tonelia stood. “If you know anything about me, sir, you know I traveled with them around the peninsula in the quest for the crystals. I shared all the dangers with them then. I can fight for myself and be of assistance in the war. I’ll be no drain on anyone’s resources and offer more than my protection, as you say, will require.” She slapped her hands on her hips and leaned forward, staring defiantly at the wizard like a fighting cock at its rival. I’m not backing down on this, she thought.

“Please do have a seat, Countess,” the wizard said. He sat down and she did so only after him. “Yes, I’ve heard enough about you to know when your mind is made up it’s not likely to change.” He chuckled slightly and cleared his throat. “I believe there is a supply shipment going to Favriana in the morning. It will leave early from the armory docks below Helshian Court Palace. I’ll write you a letter for the captain of the expedition. From there you will be able to find out from the fortress’ commander where Bodrin was last reported to be.”

The wizard pulled out two sheets of strange paper from a drawer and using his quill pen, wrote out letters to the captain of the supply expedition and to the Favriana Fortress’ commander. Tonelia felt her anxiety peel away with each word he wrote. She settled back in her chair. Memlatec finished and sealed the letters, handing them to Tonelia who looked at them and rose immediately.

“I’ll trouble you no more, sir,” she said. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Memlatec rose too. He watched her every reaction and the jewel on the desk. She turned to go.

“Countess,” Memlatec said.

She turned back, triumphant at her victory. “Please call me Tonelia, everyone else does and I feel I’ve known you for a long time, sir.”

“Tonelia, you must be careful. You were a great help to the men on the expedition. I know that. I’m sure you want to be a further help to Bodrin and the kingdom. Remember, if anything should happen to you, it would devastate the men leading this defense and do far more damage to the kingdom than you could contribute personally to saving it.”

“Thank you, sir, but I must do what I can to help. If I die in the fight, then I’ll be happier dying with my husband than living to old age with nothing but memories.” She patted the wizard’s hand and, smiling at the letters, promptly left.

*

That afternoon she made the domestic arrangements for Vicksylva in her absence. She packed what she thought necessary for the journey, traveled light to travel fast, and stayed the night at an inn near the riverfront in Konnotan. In the morning, she presented her traveling document to the supply ship’s captain. He shook his head, looking back and forth between the countess and Memlatec’s letter, grumbling. He finally allowed her to board and directed her to a small cabin below. Before the sun rose above the trees along the river they were sailing down the Nhy toward Heedra.

Won’t Bodrin be surprised; she thought, standing on deck. She looked down over the railing at the dark tannic water and up at the moss-draped cypresses that lined the banks. She breathed in the rich scent of the moss, tannic water, and conifers. It brought back a flush of memories. A great white osprey flew from its lookout perch on a dead limb atop the tallest cypress and down river ahead of them. She again looked down at the tannic water following the ripples, radiating from the side of the ship. A chilled gust of wind flipped her hair. It feels good to be involved again, she thought. She shivered involuntarily at the chill. Now I remember the excitement, the anticipation of the unknown ahead, the thrill mixed with the foreboding this danger creates. It’s good to be alive and a part of the action again.

Movement among the trees above the river caught her attention. A man watched the ship sailing down river. He turned and disappeared back into the woods.

“Captain,” Tonelia said, as she approached him at the helm. “There was a man up on the bank. He disappeared when he saw me watching him, watching us.”

“Just a farmer,” the captain said, evidently unconcerned.

“That farmer had a sword at his side. Do farmers carry swords now?”

“The chatra posted notices all over the kingdom for everyone to be alert for Dreaddrac agents spying in the countryside. The farmer was likely taking precautions.”

“I see. Well we got the same notices at Vicksnak and my tenants don’t carry swords about when working the estate.”

“Don’t you worry yourself, Countess, all will be well,” the captain said. He turned the wheel over to his first mate, bowed, and went below.

I see he’s not going to take me seriously, she thought. As she went back to the foredeck, she saw a raven fly north out of the forest. Then, the strangest of incidents, a white osprey suddenly flew from nowhere and slammed its claws into the raven, killing it. The osprey released the dead bird that fell into the woods. It flew back again to the treetop, back above where she’d seen the man disappear.

Ospreys are fish hawks; Bodrin taught me that. Why would it attack the raven? She wondered. It didn’t kill the raven for food and the single raven wasn’t a threat to it.

Ospreys followed the boat to Heedra, flying from tree behind to tree ahead but always with the ship. The last one turned back and flew up river as they approached Heedra. Its majestic wings flapped slowly, elegantly to gain altitude. Then it occurred to her… Memlatec!

* * *

The bulk of Powteros was slightly more than three times the size of its northern peninsula. The oldest known power, the old Occintoc Empire, had once ruled most of the continent. As with all powers, it had grown too large to govern efficiently. Its power was unchallenged. Corruption encroached into its bureaucracy until the decay undermined the whole society. The emperors ceased to govern for the empire. Increasingly, they spent their time in self-indulgence until all citizens of the empire ceased to think of themselves as a sharing society. People despaired. No longer looking to the emperor and imperial administration for the betterment of the whole, they started thinking, ‘I’ll get mine; it’s all about me.’ They started looking at their neighbors as prey. The social order broke down.

When the end came, it came quickly and totally. The empire collapsed in upon itself. A rogue general from some obscure province rebelled and overthrew the last emperor. The warring generals that survived carved up the empire into lessor kingdoms. Governor General Calamidese Sengen alone was able to hold his old province amid the power struggles. His people proclaimed him King Calamidese I of Sengenwha. Through the dark ages that followed the wars consumed the generals, central powers crumbled and dissipated among more and more warlords who valued no one but themselves. The people of Powteros suffered badly as the societies disintegrated and life deteriorated to a survival existence.

Eventually a new empire, arrogantly named after the continent, the Powteros Empire, rose from the center of the continent. It grew rapidly by its aggressive early emperors. The first emperor, a brilliant administrator as well as general, established an efficient government that again represented the people, promoting peace within the empire, efficient trade, and emphasis on helping each other build a better nation. He and his successor slew warlord after independent warlord. The oppressed people welcomed the emperors who consolidated the broken fiefdoms into a prosperous empire, opening up commercial opportunities and instilling peace.

By the time Saxthor’s grandfather ruled Konnotan, the empire had, like its predecessor, decayed. The emperors indulged themselves in their absolute power and pleasures, unconcerned with the state of the people. Corruption was everywhere, hindering all aspects of life throughout the realm.

The current Emperor Engwan IV ruled from Ossenkosk Palace, the Palace of the Seven Kings in the opulent and imposing imperial capital of Engwaniria, at the empire’s center. An antecedent of King Saxthor’s, a Calimon princess generations back, had married one of the emperors. Saxthor and Emperor Engwan being distant cousins, were allies, as for generations.

King Saxthor had called upon his cousin, the emperor, to send an army to aid in the destruction of Dreaddrac as the peninsula’s southern kingdoms began losing the war everywhere. The call had gone unheeded, and the lack of any response troubled Saxthor.