The Powterosian War (Book 5) (21 page)

The chatra bowed. He then took a scroll from a clutter of petitions, handing it to the emperor.

“I regret disturbing Your Greatness with trifles, but I received this correspondence from the Neuyokkasinian chatra only today.”

“What does it say? Engwan asked, tossing the scroll aside. He savored the chatra bowing down to pick it up off the carpet. “We’ve no interest in such trifles as a chatra might weary us with, yourself excepted, of course. We’ve neither the time nor the interest to read petitions today.”

“The Neuyokkasinian chatra begs your favor, Majesty. He proclaims your divinity and offers his undying loyalty. He offers to betray the King Saxthor and throw open the gates of Konnotan to your army if your majesty will but grant him asylum in the empire.”

“That sniveling worm,” Engwan said. “We abhor traitors, but for the moment he’ll serve our interests. Send him our absolution. Tell him he shall be granted titles and estates within the empire for his, shall we say, wisdom in changing loyalties. If the fool would turn on his own king, he’ll never be trustworthy to us. Promise him anything. Promise him the governorship of Neuyokkasin if greed will reassure his compliance. If he will betray the capital and throw open the city gates, it will save us the expense of a siege and loss of valuable military investments. We shall grant his request, well, until we have the capital in our possession, at least.” Engwan laughed and the whole court laughed in sympathy, though virtually none but the chatra and chamberlain could hear what was said.

“As you command, Your Most Imperial Majesty,” the chatra said.

“Once the city is ours have the generals find him and see to it neither he, nor his family, is ever seen or heard from again.” The chatra bowed once more, his sinister smile making the emperor uncomfortable. “Dismiss the court, Chamberlain. We have exhausted ourself enough today.”

As the official clacked the great staff of office on the floor, the chatra backed down the dais, bowing all the way. Emperor Engwan rose and the audience attendants dropped to the floor to prostrate themselves before his august majesty as he left the throne room for his debauched delights.

* * *

In his hallway niche deep under the Munattahensenhov, Smegdor was beginning to write instructions to Dreaddrac’s various vassals when he heard a pot smash against the wall of the king’s workroom nearby.

“What’s it now?” Smegdor mumbled. He rose slowly, wincing from the sharp pain in his withered leg. He went to see what was wrong, anticipating the inevitable scream demanding his immediate presence. He crept to the doorway and peeked in. The Dark Lord’s sinister yellow eye expected his coming and was staring at him.

“That fool!” The Dark Lord said. He grabbed a dead rat from the table and slung it against the wall resulting in a nauseating thud. The rat stuck for a moment, its entrails clung to the rock then it slid to the floor.

“May I be of service?” Smegdor asked. His timid voice was barely audible across the vast cave, service offered but hopefully not heard and accepted.

“The pompous emperor! I offered him an alliance and half Neuyokkasin for his reward.”

“Yes,” Smegdor said. “I remember writing the proposal...”

“Shut up, I’m talking,” the drooling king said, his eyes red around the yellow iris. “I warned the fool not to show his hand until I had King Saxthor and his army lured away, embroiled in the siege of Graushdemheimer, far from his home base and kingdom.”

“What’s he done?” Smegdor asked, proving he was paying attention. The king grabbed the nearest thing to his hand and threw it at Smegdor, who ducked. “I told you to shut up when I’m talking.”

Smegdor nodded.

“Now Engwan has marched on the Neuyokkasinian border with King Saxthor still in Hoya. Fool. I think that greedy idiot intends to seize all Neuyokkasin before my armies can reach the border. He thinks to cheat me out of my portion as if I’d leave him any.”

“Challenge me, will he; he’ll soon learn whom he’s playing with.” The Dark Lord ignored Smegdor, rose, and went to his bookcases, searching the scrolls.

Smegdor started to leave, risking his master’s anger, but then he stopped. “You never intended to share Neuyokkasin with him either, did you?”

The king unrolled this scroll and that, tossing them on the floor as he grabbed the next one in his search. He didn’t bother to look at Smegdor. He just mumbled, continuing to search. “Of course not, today Sengenwha, tomorrow Graushdem, next Neuyokkasin, and then I’ll take the empire and control the known world. The emperor is just another impediment. That defunct monarch and his corrupt empire are ripe for the taking. I’ve seen to that by corrupting officials for a generation now.” He laughed. “Now get back to work.”

Smegdor disappeared and went back to his alcove. I pity the emperor, thought Smegdor as he limped back down the hall. None can stand against this sorcerer. The emperor should not have crossed him. The emperor’s suffering will be long and lingering.

Smegdor had barely sat back down at his desk when he saw a large black and yellow serpentine vapor slithering down the hall past his doorway. He shuttered at the sight and pulled his legs up under his stool. There was a faint smell of sulfurous smoke, suffused with the stench of rotting flesh that drifted into the niche and Smegdor covered his face with a rag. The vaporous thing slinked on down the hall, but Smegdor dared not look out or leave his closet.

A terrible guttural laugh erupted from the workroom next door. Smegdor felt goose bumps rise along his arm and over his neck. That pestilence will descend on the imperial army if not on the emperor himself, he thought. Who will grab Neuyokkasin first, I wonder. Not that it will matter. Dreaddrac will have it in the end, I suppose. He trembled, picked up his quill, and began writing out the orders started earlier.

* * *

Saxthor sat on the Hoyahof’s audience hall discussing the situation of the various war fronts across the peninsula with General Sekkarian, Wizard Tournak, Major Count Bodrin, the fortress’ commander, and several ranking military officers now in the city.

“Order the garrison at Tossledorn to march to relieve Graushdemheimer,” King Saxthor told General Sekkarian and his scribe.

“But Your Majesty,” Sekkarian protested. “If we abandon Tossledorn the enemy might occupy it, and we would have that threat on our border without any impediment to their marching down through Talok before an army from here could confront them.”

“If Graushdemheimer falls, where will the refugees go if we don’t hold Tossledorn?” Bodrin asked.

Saxthor thought a moment. “Yes, but if Graushdemheimer falls, the whole of General Vylvex’s army, as reinforced by the new legions now marching from Hador, will easily overrun the garrison at Tossledorn. They’ll still be able to overwhelm us through Talok. If we don’t stop them at Graushdemheimer before Vylvex destroys the Graushdem army, that garrison will be useless against the victorious combined Dreaddrac force.

“But Your Majesty,” Sekkarian started to protest.

Saxthor raised his hand, ending protests. “We must stop Vylvex at Graushdemheimer before reinforcements reach him or the combined army will be too great to stop in the field coming south. Send the order.”

Sekkarian nodded, bowed and left the hall to make the arrangements for the mobilization at Tossledorn.

“Have we heard anything from Botahar?” Saxthor asked the assembly. Heads shook and looked to each other, but there was no response. “So we must concentrate on holding this fortress and try to discover where Dreaddrac’s forces intend to strike across the Nhy at Neuyokkasin.”

“Tournak, can you look into the enemy movements and see where they’re concentrating?”

“I don’t have that ability, Your Majesty. I shall consult the resources in the wizard’s library and see if there is anything useful there.” He bowed and left the hall for the tower.

Saxthor asked the Hoyahof’s commander to report on the most recent security updates for the city and castilyernov. They were to report any unusual incidents or changes on the river that might indicate infiltration of the city or a possible impending attack. He then dismissed the company and left the hall with Bodrin.

“They’re going to bypass Hoya and attack directly across the Nhy at Konnotan, hoping to seize the capital,” Saxthor said. “The Dark Lord expects me to capitulate if he can take and hold Konnotan. Their forces are too many, their conquests too great. Our forces are too thinly spread across too long a border.”

“No word from General Socockensmek?” Bodrin asked.

“Nothing as yet.”

As they returned to the royal apartments in the keep’s high tower, the Hoyahof’s commander rushed up with a message for King Saxthor. “It’s from General Socockensmek, Majesty.” The commander bowed and left.

Saxthor was opening the letter as Bodrin was closing the door to the private apartment.

“What’s he have to say?” Bodrin asked.

“Socockensmek is pulling the armies from Hyemka and Favriana to consolidate the forces at Heedra, thinking the attack will come there. He’s getting more and more refugees from Sengenwha telling of the orc consolidation across the river from Heedra. How can I hold Heedra in the south, fight beside Graushdem in the north, and hold the river and fortress here? The Dark Lord’s minions are coming at us on all fronts.”

Bodrin shook his head but said nothing.

Saxthor noticed a twinkle in the afternoon sun streaming into the window. He looked up and noticed a ripple in the light.

“I haven’t seen that in a long time,” Saxthor said. He pointed at it and Bodrin, seeing it, glared at Saxthor.

“Memlatec hasn’t dared to send an ornsmak since we were on the adventure,” Bodrin said. “Something terrible has happened.”

“You mean something else terrible.” Saxthor went to the message and, being the intended recipient, was able to open the energy communication. He couldn’t speak but grabbed a chair and sank into it.

“What’s the matter?” Bodrin said, rushing to his side.

Saxthor felt clammy, then nauseous. He reached out to the message that only he could see as if checking to see if it was real.

“What is it?” Bodrin asked again. “Are you all right?”

“The emperor is coming,” Saxthor mumbled weakly, hardly able to speak.

“Why that’s wonderful. We have the empire behind us at last. None too soon, I might add.”

“No Bodrin, the Grand Imperial Army is behind us, but not with us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Memlatec says Emperor Engwan’s army is coming to seize Neuyokkasin and incorporate it into the empire before Dreaddrac can grab us. Memlatec thinks it’s a race to see which of them can overwhelm us first.” Saxthor stared out the window.

Bodrin sank into the nearest chair, speechless, but eventually he broke the silence. “Emperor Engwan is your cousin, he wouldn’t turn on you like that. Memlatec has it all wrong.”

“When have you known the great wizard to have anything wrong?”

Again they sat in silence.

“How can we fight Dreaddrac in the north and the empire in the south at the same time, each aggressor’s forces dwarfing our own?” Bodrin mumbled. “Are you going to capitulate to save the people? At least under the empire, we’re more likely to survive. If the Dark Lord wins, we’re likely to be killed to the last human.”

“Surrender my people as virtual slaves to one or the other, maybe even food for Dreaddrac’s army?” Saxthor sat staring out the window. Then he noticed he was twirling the dragon ring on his finger and thought of the Crown of Yensupov locked up securely in the keep at Helshian Court Palace. Still turning the ring, he noticed it felt warm, its celestial blue crystal more intense. Then a rush of warmth dispelled his clammy feeling. He jumped up.

“What is it?” Bodrin asked.

“My dynasty has nurtured and protected the people of Neuyokkasin for too many generations to abandon them to cruel conquerors now. I might be the last King of Neuyokkasin, but I’ll die in the fight to save her. I’ll not give up the contest before it’s begun in earnest. I hope Rakmar has prepared the city for a siege.” He clutched Sorblade’s hilt and felt yet another surge of strength, of power. He glanced at Bodrin and rushed to the door.

“Guard, find General Sekkarian and bring him here at once! Also, send in a courier.” As the guard dashed off down the hall, Saxthor turned back to Bodrin, who had just risen from his chair. “We’re off to war, Bodrin. It’s come to us now, and face to face, we’ll take it on.” He sat down at his desk and began to write a letter to General Socockensmek.

“How can you think to win out in this vice?” Bodrin mumbled, but Saxthor wrote feverishly. As the courier came to the door, bowed and entered, Saxthor finished the message and sealed it, stamping his ring seal on the hot wax.

“Leave immediately and take this to General Socockensmek at Heedra. Deliver it to his hand only and personally. Reinforce to him he has but twelve hours.” The courier took the document, tucked it into his uniform blouse, bowed, and rushed out into the night.

* * *

Wizard Tournak worked in the Hoyahof’s wizard’s tower searching through the library. It was a small side turret overlooking the Talok Mountains that abutted the city to the east. It also had a view of the northern end of the docks and one window looked out over the shimmering waters of Lake Pundar to the northwest. Tournak studied dusty books and scrolls not used since Prince Henri dismissed the last wizard. Twiddle had accompanied the wizard to the tower, having a fondness for Memlatec’s protégé. The wren flitted about the room, bobbing up and down, investigating every crack and cranny for possible insects.