Darkstone - An Evil Reborn (Book 4) (35 page)

Kenyr rubbed his head with a meaty hand. “Emperor Shalil was a devious man, but he knew his limits and ruled the duchies with a light hand. He let Duke Mistad run his domain any way he wanted as long as your father sent him tribute through the Serytaran Grand Duke. Daryaku is a different sort. He was gaining power just as we left, but I sensed an evil rising out of Baku, the Imperial City. The Dark Lord takes a brutal approach to his rule and has done his best to ruin the entire continent of Zarron.”

“My spies concur,” Mander said. “Unstable, I often heard. The Emperor rules the entire continent from Dakkor and still strikes out as if he always has more to prove. Finding the stones is an unhealthy obsession. See what misery it has caused. The sooner we put an end to his rule, the better for the entire world.”

“The better for Serytar,” Kenyr said. “He’s turned everyone into slaves. I wonder what kind of training the army has? Shalil never had a large force, only enough for the odd revolt. I remember meeting an exiled Cuminee chieftain that had nothing but good things to say about Daryaku when he arrived in Bomai as a border guard. That was before Daryaku began his rise. It didn’t take him long to figure out that he’d been fooled by Vishan Daryaku and talked of heading back to Cuminee if things got worse.”

Lotto stood, feeling a bit better. “So has the Darkstone made the man insane?”

He got a shrug in response from Kenyr.

“I talked to Anchor about it and he perused his old book. No one knows. The Darkstone was interred with Wallyr, the Grand Emperor and then Daryaku shows up with it and vaults to the throne. He had quite a bit of vaulting to do, being the 22nd son,” Mander Hart said.

Kenyr chuckled. “Survival of the fittest. Emperor Shalil pitted them one against the other. There had been a constant winnowing before Daryaku rose to power.”

Lotto didn’t even smile. “I read parts of Anchor’s book, too, Mander. I can’t imagine the amount of power locked in the Darkstone if it shut down the entire nexus underneath Ayrtan. No one knows. Anchor doesn’t think the stone destroyed the nexus, but that it is cut off or shielded. I need to resist using any magic until we fight,” Lotto said. “Luckily, I have other ways to contribute.” He took a deep breath and smiled. “Maybe I need a little sparring. Our talk has put my sickness aside, at least until my next meal.”

“I’d be happy to,” Kenyr said.

~

Restella watched Gully Workman train his new rangers. She didn’t know how they were assigned to her ship, but her general aversion to rangers did little good now that they were in the midst of the sea. Captain Workman had come up from the gutter like Lotto. Still, she had to admire his attention to duty. He sported very rough edges, but he knew how to be a Ranger better than anyone she knew, except for Silver before he turned those many months ago. She couldn’t help but sigh at the memory of her mentor before the Dakkoran sorcerer, Peleor, had turned him. Two hundred and ten men sailed with her on one of the biggest Learsean ships. They slept in the hold and on the decks. All were rangers or rangers-in-training.

She envied their eagerness to engage the enemy on Ayrtan, but as they became more excited, Restella sunk into depression. She knew it and tried to fight her malaise, but the prospects of the Moonstone’s demise tore her concentration to shreds. Lotto would take it from her some time after they landed. Its power would help him more than her; at least that’s what Anchor had said. Her father commanded her to obey Anchor, as if he were her father. She didn’t have any choice, but to obey.

She identified a bit with Prince Peeron. King Willom’s son chafed under Anchor’s command, but the man couldn’t see the Marshal’s wisdom. Even in her most angry moments, she recognized greatness when she saw it. Her own memories of Unca, King Billeas’s wizard came to her. He looked impossibly tall and imposing when she was a young girl visiting Foxhome. She remembered him as old with a finely honed sense of humor that Anchor seemed to have lost with the pressures of command. Restella could identify with that. She knew that her own experiences in Ashdown, Oringia and Happly had produced a deep-seated grimness that was difficult to dispel.

But with Anchor, it just wasn’t command. He led all of the armies in word and deed. He fought well, too well for a commander. He became a spy in the Duchy of Teryon when he had to and performed like a ranger in taking Foxhome Castle. He had become the kind of military leader that Restella could never be. Lotto was right, Anchor bristled with accomplishments.

She admitted it and it rankled just a bit. It wasn’t just jealousy that angered her. The Moonstone gave her strength and size, but even with her extra size, she had to fight for everything on her own and still she came up short to the man, but she didn’t hate Anchor like she hated Lotto.

She sought the link out in the ocean. The link wasn’t quite as strong at sea and would weaken on Ayrtan, so Mander Hart guessed. Lotto’s easy personality and casual approach to life irritated her as she fought against the link. Every barrier that she could put up, she did. In her dreams, Lotto would appear and occasionally she still shared a kiss with him, like she had in Happly Keep. The horror of reliving that moment would wake her up.

Restella couldn’t let her guard down. She fought on her own. Her identity was hers alone and Lotto had stolen away a part of what made her unique.

Her hand drifted to the Moonstone, but she dared not touch it. He would be able to better discern her thoughts if she yielded to that temptation and she couldn’t have that.

~

The Sunstone tempted Shiro to check up on Anchor, who now possessed the Bloodstone. He had wanted to travel with Mistokko on a Ropponi ship, but Anchor wanted Shiro to teach his Ropponi how to be stealthy like rangers. Nark Sender and Pillo Toras, two of Morio’s ranger friends worked his people through all kinds of drills and strategies.

At night Tishiaki, Chika and he learned additional ways to command a ranger force. They had never used hand signals before, but now they practiced them twice a day. He wished he could have worked with Gully Workman, who he met in Happly, but Anchor and Lotto felt that Restella would accept a Valetan officer’s advice more readily that the somewhat-relaxed Genslerans.

Pillo Toras had set the expectations for their training on their first night at sea. “Since the Dakkorans know we are coming, they have the advantage of digging into the terrain and devising surprises. A ranger’s job is to keep such things from happening,” Pillo said. “We will break down your troops into five to seven man—“

“Men?” Chika said.

Pillo smirked. “Soldiers? Five to seven soldier squads. We have to teach you different hand signals so that the other ranger groups can read them.”

They went from there. Now Shiro looked at the Red Rose spread all over the ship. The squads had practiced sneaking up on each other. On Besseth, they relied on magic to hide them. When they fought on Ayrtan soil, he demanded that they use no magic whatsoever. They would save it up for the last battle and perhaps not even then. At the end, all of their power might be better used healing others.

All of the Red Rose were expert fighters, so Pillo and Nark only had to train them for stealth. The efforts were paying off. Shiro had insisted that the two rangers learn Ropponi fighting techniques while the Red Rose practiced with their weapons. If nothing else, it took everyone’s mind off the Red Rose forces that hadn’t made it to Ayrtan and died on Besseth, fallen brothers and sisters. He still grieved for every single one.

~

The weather held itself to occasional showers, so they sailed under generally sunny skies. Anchor had learned long ago that he didn’t have the patience to be a good passenger on a ship. Perhaps the sailors kept busy enough, but Anchor didn’t enjoy the monotony any better than the first time he had traveled to Ayrtan.

He remembered the tiny port situated in a bay large enough to hold the entire flotilla. Ayrtan was desolate. He couldn’t think of a better word. Occasional clumps of grass, stunted bushes and trees. Bare dirt everywhere. The place had drained his power by the second week. Now he’d return with an army big enough to conquer the entire continent. He didn’t think they’d be fighting the savages. He doubted there were enough of them to give his army much of a fight.

Legend said that Ayrtan had been the center of the world of Goriath until the curse of the Darkstone. Perhaps he could restore the place. His invading army would meet another invading army.

He didn’t know what would happen when he destroyed the Darkstone, but he hoped that whatever shielded the nexus would disappear. Wishful thinking? He thought it might be, but then why did men fight for their country, if not without a bit of wishful thinking? They would survive the battle. Their army would win the war. His brothers-in-arms would win the peace. Noble wishes. He put the restoration of Ayrtan down as a noble wish.

He climbed down and poked around in the stores of the ship, looking at the exotic Ropponi supplies, exotic to him, anyway. He wished he could have had Shiro join him on Mistokko’s ship, but his army needed more rangers and if their power left them, Anchor still had a formidable force of unconventional soldiers that might give them an edge.

Anchor heard a sound among the supplies and found a cage of birds with a charm attached. Where would these birds fly? He had found the distraction he sought and climbed on deck. A ladder had been installed leading up to the pilot deck just before they left Learsea—another little mystery.

“May I join you?” Anchor asked before he set foot on Mistokko’s domain.

“Come up, come up,” Mistokko said. The Ropponi reminded Anchor of Lotto’s friend and mentor, Kenyr.

Anchor looked at the sea. The rest of the flotilla sailed far behind Mistokko’s ship. “I found live birds in your stores. It does not appear they are for eating, but for taking messages. Where would they fly?”

“Don’t tell Shiro? Promise me. He knows I have kept in contact with the Guild, but not to this extent.”

Anchor shrugged. “I won’t.”

“They fly to Roppon, right into the Guildmaster’s coop in the Imperial Capital of Boriako. Yushidon knows everything that has happened.”

“And they return?”

Mistokko nodded. “It is the price I pay to roam the seas and to occasionally put into ports in Roppon. Shiro thought I was banished, but my information is in too much demand. One has to use whatever leverage there is available.” He shrugged.

“Have you told them about the flotilla?”

Mistokko just looked at him. Anchor didn’t need the Sunstone to know that the captain had.

“Could you ask them to join us? Daryaku is as big a threat to them as he is to us.”

“I already have.”

“And?”

“They are thinking about it.”

“Keep sending them birds until they say yes,” Anchor said. He remembered that he sailed on Mistokko’s ship. He smiled at Mistokko. “Please keep sending them, Captain. Daryaku will attempt to rule the world after the Purestone is restored.  He won’t leave Roppon alone.”

“You are a good man, Anchor. They will come. I do not know when they will appear or how many warriors they will bring. Perhaps a note from you might help sway their minds.”

“Any help is appreciated. I am afraid we won’t have enough forces. I’d be happy to let them read my pleas. My only hope is that Daryaku’s armies are ill-trained.”

“Have you thought of using crew? There are over a thousand ships with at least fifteen to thirty hands on each. Perhaps you can talk the captains into lending you half of the crews. That will increase your army by half. Am I right?”

Anchor slapped his forehead. He had forgotten the sailors. “We will talk about this later tonight.”

His boredom a faint memory, Anchor went below decks and began to re-examine his army’s organization. He would have to leave naval crews intact to fight off the Zarronan ships that Daryaku would arrive to get the Dakkoran army to Besseth.

The sailors could be quickly trained as marauders, forces who could fight opportunistically, out of ranks. They could flow to where hand to hand combat demanded. He sat back and remembered similar units used in various battles that he had studied long ago at South Keep. But before he did anything else, Anchor had an important message to write to Guildmaster Yushidon of the Roppon Sorcerer’s Guild.  Anchor realized that he, like Captain Mistokko, now had a secret to keep from Shiro.

~~~

 

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ayrtan

~

T
hey come with nine hundred eighty-three ships
, Your Eminence,” said one of Daryaku’s spies. “I counted them as they sailed into the bay. Some ships can only carry twenty men. Perhaps twenty-thousand soldiers,” the spy said. “We had to withdraw once they began to send out many teams of scouts.”

“And we still have?” Daryaku looked at Bishyar.

“We’ve lost some men to disease. I’m surprised we can resist the ill humors at all for this land is so empty. By my count, we still have over thirty eight thousand people. That includes the wagon drivers, stable hands and cooks. But all are trained in warfare.”

“Nearly two to one.” Vishan could feel Daryaku’s confidence build. “Are our ships in position to the east of the bay?”

“Uh, no.” Bishyar said. “A typical great storm blew up from the southern sea off of Roppon and they had to turn back towards Dakkor. Storms like that one are the reason we marched and did not sail to Besseth, as you recall. They will return in another two weeks.”

“No matter, we can capture the Bessethian vessels and use those,” she casually waved their hand. “Traps?”

“We will harass them all the way here. Our main camp is on the highest ground in the general area. I wanted to install man-traps, but the ground is very hard and we lack strong poles for stakes and the vegetation to cover them.”

“Ayrtan helps no one,” Daryaku said.

Vishan had felt her power fade again, but Daryaku still thought she had reserves of power in the Darkstone. Vish had never discovered much about the gem from Daryaku. He didn’t like the Bessethian odds and Daryaku’s tension lessened with the spies’ information. If only he could do something to help Daryaku’s enemies.

“We have also moved battalions out into three remote areas to collapse on the Bessethians as they close in on us. Their scouts should not be able to find them, until it is too late.”

“Keep monitoring the enemy’s progress. I’ll sleep easier tonight knowing we will crush them.” Daryaku looked at Bishyar. “Good job.” She had given Bishyar few compliments since she had returned from Dakkor.

Vishan took advantage of her view of Bishyar. It was easy for him to see the general wasn’t as confident as she might have thought. He wondered what Bishyar hadn’t told her. He now knew the General well enough that the man had withheld negative information from the Emperor.

~

Anchor called a meeting of the ship captains once they landed and offloaded the soldiers and supplies. The little port was overwhelmed and one of the captains came up with the idea of tying the ships together into lines of thirty, side by side. Planks could be spread across between them. Anchor agreed. They met on the largest ship in the fleet, one of Willom’s warships. It took half a day to assemble the hundreds of captains.

“I have two matters to discuss,” Anchor said. “But first your concerns.”

The captains had little to say other than desires to have their men visit the little port.

“I ask you not to overwhelm the few merchants, taverns and, uh, other services. They are scaled for an occasional ship, not a battle fleet.”

They agreed. Anchor stood on the pilot deck. Willom’s naval officers stood behind him. He had consulted with them before he had made his final plans.

“First of all, I’d like to lay a blockade of the harbor with naval ships. Daryaku undoubtedly has ships on the way to take him to Besseth. Take the fastest ships and set up patrols. Find out how many come and anchor the naval ships on the sea side so they will be available to engage them. Daryaku undoubtedly has a fleet on its way to take the army to Learsea, so you might fight a war of your own at the mouth of the bay. There is the slimmest chance that a contingent of Ropponi might arrive. If they do, provide them with the utmost of courtesy. Mistokko, master of the Wicked Wind will interface with them.”

He heard the grumblings of assent. Anchor didn’t want any of his ships leaving in the middle of the night. He didn’t mention it to the captains, but the blockade worked both ways. The naval ships would keep the fleet bottled up. He had to transport his men, what were left, back to Learsea. “One hundred ships will immediately return to Learsea to pick up more supplies. The battles may be fought by the time you return, but we can’t plan on that. You may not like what I’m say next. I’m impressing half of your crews to fight in my army. I will require one mate to command the men. They will maintain control over their fellow sailors while they fight amongst us. It is my request that those who are most proficient with weapons should come with us. The sailors won’t be forced to fight in the ranks but will be roaming marauders, fighting in much the same way they would against pirates or such like on board a vessel.”

The captains didn’t complain as much as he thought. That probably meant they were getting rid of all of their troublemakers, but Anchor didn’t care, if they fought well enough. He didn’t have to worry about any deserters on Ayrtan.

“Have them debark by the end of the day tomorrow. They will need sturdy boots and enough clothes so they don’t burn up in the sun.” Anchor just threw those remarks in. Most of the sailors he knew had soles on their feet that were thicker than any boot leather and they all sported nut-brown skin.

He left first and carried a listing of all of the vessels, provided by Willom’s admiral. All of the naval ships would keep a full compliment of sailors and man the blockade.

Anchor would have liked to ride to the front of his forces, but all of the horses were being walked the first two days. He’d just have to walk faster. No teleporting on Ayrtan. They located a large plain not far from the harbor and began to set up a camp. A ranker showed Anchor to his tent. He brushed off a thick coating of dirt from his clothes.

His command staff waited for him inside. Anchor could hardly breathe through all of the dust and had them roll up the outside walls to give them some ventilation.  He talked to the standing officers.

“Be prepared for the worst of the sailors. I’m assigning them as units to all of you. Take your best sergeants and work with the mates who will lead them. I want them to be able to walk as a unit. Walk, I didn’t say march. We can’t afford to have them grumbling about damned army rules.” That comment got a laugh out of his staff.

“They add half again to our numbers.” He smiled. “I want rangers out tonight and every night.” He looked at Restella and Shiro. “Horses in two days. I want long-range scouts and short-range scouts. General Beecher, you command the experienced rangers on the left side of our route. Shiro, along with Toras and Sender command the new rangers and will take the right. We’ll keep the rest of the newly trained rangers together to rotate as patrols. The most cover you are going to have will be what the terrain gives you. There are no forests and the clumps of trees are little taller than a man’s height.” Anchor glanced at Chika, who smiled at him. He wondered what kind of retort she’d just thought of.

“Remember, no use of your power, if you’ve got it, and none by your commands. Use it and you won’t get it back. We want to save as much as we can until we fight Daryaku’s main force. I am sure he is doing the same,” Anchor said. “Get a good night’s sleep. I know I will appreciate not rolling about on a ship’s cot. We’ll go over more strategy tomorrow. You are all dismissed.”

Lotto stayed behind. “What do you want me to do? Restella brought her own command staff.”

Anchor pursed his lips. “I’ll give you two options. You can join Mander Hart as part of my staff or you can go off with Gully Workman.”

“Can I do both?”

“Feel free. I’ll need your advice later. Your friend Kenyr will serve as Mander Hart’s personal guard. Just let me know where you go and when you’ll be back.”

Lotto smiled and saluted. “I can do that.”

“No magic for you, either. When we finally pry the Moonstone from Restella, you will be carrying that.”

“I understand,” Lotto left Anchor alone in his tent. The sun had just set and he lit the little camp lamp. No more sorcerer’s light, courtesy of Shiro’s Red Rose. Anchor took a while getting to sleep in the heat and dusty air. He’d feel better when he knew how many soldiers Daryaku had dragged along with him.

~

The next day, he began to receive reports. The Dakkorans had sent out many spies, but, hopefully, none made it through their net of rangers. Anchor realized that the Dark Lord probably had a good count of the ships in the harbor before they even disembarked.

He spent the day going over possible troop deployments with Lotto and Mander Hart. Game-playing for the most part. They didn’t have enough information to do much else.

The sailors began to trickle in. They all were armed to the teeth and only carried rolled up blankets for their kit. The army would get very smelly by the time they reached the Dakkorans. Anchor just expected it. By nightfall, his army had swollen to thirty-two thousand. He had a mix of seasoned soldiers; honed by up to three years in the field along with the sailors providing whatever arms expertise they had acquired as the sailed the seas of Goriath. As marauders, they didn’t need significant soldiering skills, but he still awaited the reports from the various divisions on the assessments the sergeants made of the sailors.

Prince Peeron appeared at the door to his tent. “Can I speak with you, Marshal?”

“You may, come in and sit down. Tonight I have chairs in my tent.” He smiled at Peeron, although he didn’t feel like doing so.

“I would like to command a force, sir.”

“You command the supply wagon guard. That’s a force. Should we meet the enemy, you will be expected to form up and fight like all of our other units.”

“But,” Peeron said.

“I’ll assign one thousand sailors to your wagons. You’ll have double the men in your command.”

“I wanted a fighting force.”

Did the man not understand that he had a fighting force? What had Peeron done to merit increased confidence? “You have men and women who know how to use weapons. They will fight. If you want them to fight with more expertise I suggest that you to make it a better one. The sailors are rather raw as disciplined soldiers, bound to be, but they all know how to fight in their own way. Work with them. Show me what you can do. I’d guess we have a week or more of travel before we reach the Dakkoran army. When we set our battle order, I’ll give you a chance to command more if you do a good job with them.”

“That is not what I wanted to hear,” the prince said. “My father—“

“King Willom and I specifically discussed you on the day before we set sail. I still have complete discretion as to your posting within the alliance forces. I could have you out as a water carrier with a squad of five boys right now.”

The prince made a face. Could Anchor ever get through to the man? “You are dismissed, Prince Peeron.”

He rose and left the tent without another word.

Anchor walked over to the tent that Kenyr and Mander Hart shared.

“Kenyr, I want you to spend some time getting supplies from time to time. I need a soldier’s perspective as to how Prince Peeron performs. I’m still worried about that boy.”

“Boy? He’s older than you are.”

Anchor smiled. “Old as I look. Didn’t Mander ever tell you who I am?”

Kenyr’s eyes blinked he looked over at Mander, who tried to read a book in the dim light of a camp lantern.

“Unca, remember?” Mander said with a smirk on his face.

“I forgot. Forgive me, Marshal. You’ve even got significant years on me.”

“I do.” Anchor left them. He wandered through the dark alleys between the sea of tents, listening to the men talk about home and being rid of the fighting once and for all. Others voiced disappointment that Besseth would be peaceful for a change.

If Anchor had any options when he returned, he’d suggest the pacification of the Oringia and bring it and Histo into the alliance. No one had ever bothered with them in the past and they were the last holdouts to the unification of Besseth. He wondered if he could create a continent of united countries. Perhaps a general council, with some form of a small central government that allowed the duchies and kingdoms a lot of latitude but with enough backbone to bounce noble heads against each other when needed. Lessa had set up a similar organization in Prola that looked promising.

Perhaps Mander Hart might have some good ideas. He always seemed to be a smart chap, always treading lightly, but exercising suitably applied wisdom when necessary. Anchor laughed in the night. Who was he to think of such statecraft? He didn’t know who would be living or dead a few weeks from now.

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