Ravenwild: Book 01 - Ravenwild (100 page)

Standing in front of a formal assembly of his military leaders, he was giving the final orders to his four generals and several senior commanders. As usual, all were afraid to speak their minds.

“It is decided,” he snapped. “We depart at first light. Is that understood?”

There was not a sound as every officer in the room waited for Malance to answer his own question and be on with it.

Thornst Scrappen, Malance’s replacement for the now dead General Vladimir Dumfe, could hold his tongue no longer. Knowing he was risking his very life to even dare to ask questions in front of the Emperor, he raised his hand as a schoolchild might.

His Majesty noticed it out of the corner of his eye and turned slowly towards him.

“Yes, Thornst. What is it?” he sighed.

“Yes, Your Excellency. Well, let me see if I have this straight. We are going to leave a few thousand troops behind at the castle here in Ghasten to engage the water vessel in the hopes that they will think that they are attacking our main force, which will meanwhile proceed without delay to the Ravenwild capital city of Belcourt, where we will storm it, overrun it, and occupy it as our new home.”

“That is correct. You have been paying attention after all. Very good, Thornst.”

There were forced laughs from the officers gathered around the large oval table in the strategy room of the fortress in Ghasten. It was not often that the Emperor attempted to be funny, and all wanted him to know they appreciated his effort.

“Well, begging Your Excellency’s pardon … ” he began.

There were audible gasps all around. Who was this freshman general to speak this way to the Emperor? Did he have any idea of the consequences? Was he an idiot, or could he truly be that naïve?

None of the tension in the room was lost on him. Not for a second. He knew exactly what he was doing and, in a short while, so would they.

He let his continuance hang and twist in the breeze of their collective fright for a few moments before continuing, “ … but I must emphatically disagree with the entire plan as it is drawn up.”

Now every Troll present leaned forward. This was amazing, completely unprecedented. A freshman general speaking out against the very plan that the Emperor himself had devised to prosecute what all believed was the end game, one way or another, in their war against Ravenwild. Oh this was good. This was beyond good.

Nobody had the slightest idea what to do. The Trolls standing guard over the proceeding were the first to act, and the sound of swords being drawn by the four of them was drama in and of itself, but to everyone’s surprise, the Emperor raised his hand and said, “Stay those swords. Stand down.” They did, reassuming their positions with their arms folded against their massive chests.

Now that he had rolled the dice, and knowing full well that his next words would decide whether or not he would be alive to see the sun go down, Thornst Scrappen slowly scanned the room to take notice of the looks directed his way.

“I must say,” said Malance, holding his arms out to the side in dramatic fashion, “I am impressed. Such bravado. And from someone who has been one of the four for
how
long? A
week
? All right, Thornst. Speak your mind, and hope that I am as impressed when you finish as I am at the start.”

Thornst Scrappen did them all one better. He
stood. He stood in front of the Emperor.
Such an act was de facto treason, and everybody present knew it. This was beyond the outrageous to which they had all just been witness. This was insanity. He might as well have walked right up to him and spit in his face.

Once again the guards moved in to cut him down, and once again Malance Venomisis ordered them to stand down. More than preserving his very dignity as ruler of the Troll nation, he wanted one thing. He wanted to
win
the war against Ravenwild. Then he would deal with the Gnomes, and the border Wolves, and this astonishing display of outright arrogance was precisely the salve that the skin of his ailing confidence needed. And like so many medicinals, it had a distinct sting to it that felt somehow right.

This Troll, not dry behind the ears as a General,
must
have a plan, a much better plan, or he would never take the chances he was taking, and Malance was determined to hear it. Besides, he could always at any point have him executed and save face.

Thornst Scrappen yet again surveyed his audience, this time making sure he made direct eye contact with every officer in the room.

“Your Excellency.” He enunciated the words with the same deliberation as he had shown while scanning the room. “The following are the flaws in the plan. I ask that you allow me to detail them, uninterrupted, one by one. Because, after I have done so, I will then describe, in clear terms, the better way, in
each
instance, to proceed. When I have finished, do with me as you will. I know before I start that you will either feast on my flesh before the week is out or promote me to Supreme Commander.” The Supreme Commander, titular head of the four generals, squirmed noticeably in his chair at these words.

In a booming voice he declared, “
The plan in place is doomed to fail. The one I will lay before you is the only one with a chance for success
!”

He paused, long enough to take a short sip from the mug of ale in front of him.

“First of all, it is a mistake to leave a single Troll in the castle.” He looked straight at Malance Venomisis. “I am told you were advised to do this so as to somehow trick the crew of this floating vessel, which we know to have destructive power beyond anything we have ever seen, into thinking that our army is still in place in its entirety here in Ghasten, while we sneak our forces off like thieves in the night.

“Two points, Sire. One: Their spies will know we travel towards them the minute we leave and, therefore, they will know of our army’s advance on their capital city as soon as their riders convey the news, so there is no chance we can
fool
them with such an ill-conceived ruse. It is, in a word, brainless to think we might. Stupid, Your Majesty. Stupid. And I, for one, do not abide stupid. Two: If they were to somehow buy this rubbish that our entire army lay under the siege of their horrific weaponry, they have not come to fight our army. With what? The fifty scrawny Gnomes that we are told crew this strange floating vessel? They have obviously come to lay waste to the castle in the hopes that they might kill you. A long shot to be sure, but there is absolutely
no
doubt this is their plan. You will have long since left, leading your army, as you should be.

He paused long enough to take a long pull from the mug in front of him. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his uniform. This was no tentative sip to wet his dry lips. This was a punctuation mark to his introduction. Once again he slowly gazed about the room. This time, however, his eyes were on fire.

Everyone present knew if the remainder of his presentation was as well thought out as that which he had so convincingly delivered, a freshman General would be leading the invasion.

The very next day, there was.

Chapter 33

“You will have to show me how you did what you did some day,” said Maxilius Bravarus to the smell that had a voice. “How did you
ever
learn that, anyway?”

“From my Dad,” said Orie as he, Jacqueline, Cinnamon, Ryan, Gracie, Daria, and Silver all stared at Forrester, who slept comfortably before them. “He’s a doctor, you know, a healer... and he told us about it one night at the dinner table. I don’t know, I guess I kind of remembered.

“Anyway, we have to get everybody to Cirrhus’s farm. Forrester said the magic is failing, and if we don’t go now, we might never go. And if there’s any magic left that might help him heal, it’s there.” He spoke to the rest, “It’s a very special place. Wicked cool. You’re gonna love it.

“We’ll let him wake up, and then we’ll go.”

Around a campfire, kept ablaze by the efforts of Maxilius and Daria while Forrester slept, the children talked on and on nonstop for hours, each telling the amazing tales of their adventures on this strange world. Woven throughout the fabric of their tales were the unmistakable threads of courage, strength, loyalty, honor, and faith. All, to date, had survived against nearly impossible odds and now, save for Stephanie, all were back together.

The maps indicated that she had arrived in Belcourt, and that Mr. and Mrs. Strong were right behind her, so that was where they needed to go. But Orie was determined to give their friend every possible chance at surviving the wounds he had suffered and, not surprisingly, everyone else agreed.

The same as back home, they stayed up most of the night. Everyone had more than one chance to speak, even Silver and Cinnamon, who spoke through Jacqueline to everyone’s delight.

It was a night of nights, and when they all awoke around noon the following day, Forrester was not only able to sit up, he had already journeyed to and from Cirrhus’s farm to check for enemies lurking about while everyone else slept.

By mid-afternoon they were all seated around the dining room table in the home of Cirrhus Wishfor and eating a veritable feast prepared by Maxilius Bravarus and his sister Daria, who blushed more times in that one afternoon than she had in her entire life at all of the compliments thrown her way. If, that is, a Troll can be said to be capable of blushing. Orie was deinvisibilized by the simple command, “Undo, Invisible, Orie Alexander Strong,” the credit for which would be forever claimed by Ryan, Gracie, and Jacqueline alike. For all that they had been through, their laughter over the great debate of who solved the riddle was as sweet a sound as Forrester had ever heard.

The next time they awoke, it was morning, and after yet another fantastic meal, they transported, one-by-one, to the catacombs far underneath the city of Belcourt. The pitch-blackness, which would have been a huge problem under ordinary circumstances, proved little more than a minor inconvenience, thanks to the combined talents of Cinnamon and Silver, and within an hour’s time they all emerged in the cellars proper of the castle. Up and up the stone steps they climbed, passing level after level for what seemed like hours, until the legs of all began to burn in protest. At Orie’s insistence they began to rest often. Forrester was by no means one hundred percent. Nobody argued.

They knew they were nearing the end of the ascent when torches began to appear in brackets on the walls and the air now smelled of burning pine pitch.

“Halt
!” came the cry from the level above them. “
Drop your weapons and identify yourselves!
”

Orie, behind Silver who was in the lead, called out, “We are friends of Ravenwild, and we’ve come to help in the effort against the nation of Slova. As for dropping our weapons, we will do this for no one. More than once they have saved our lives on our travels, and if you want them, you’ll have to come and get them.”

There was a brief silence.

Jacqueline rolled her eyes and in a loud voice said, “Orie, pa … lease. Isn’t that a little
overly
dramatic?” Everyone started to laugh.

The Ravenwild soldier, a member of the King’s Guard, heard the voices of the children all laughing and said, “All right then, come on up,” but once he saw that they were in the company of three Trolls, he was not so sure and again ordered them to disarm.

“Chill,” snapped Gracie. “Haven’t you ever seen a Troll before?”

“Yeah, lighten up,” said Ryan. “They’re with us, and we look Human enough, don’t we?”

“Well, except the Cat and Wolf, of course,” said Jacqueline.

They all began to laugh again. The guard now looked thoroughly confused. “My name,” said Forrester, his deep voice resonating in the stone cellar, “is Forrester Wiley Ragamund. These,” he indicated Maxilius and Daria, “are my friends, Maxilius and Daria Bravarus.

“I understand completely that it might be cause for alarm for Trolls to be suddenly inside the castle gate, but know that the three of us renounce our Emperor and his evil ways, and would lay down our lives to protect Ravenwild,” he glanced at the children, “and its citizens.”

“So swear you?” asked the guard.

Each of the three answered, “I do.”

“It’s true,” said Jacqueline, “They’re cool.” Cinnamon nodded, “Yes” for emphasis.

“Very well,” he said. “Come this way.”

Included in their passage through the castle proper was a whirlwind tour, including a brief glimpse of the throne room itself.

Beyond the throne room, they passed down a corridor covered in thick red carpet with large rooms off to each side. Some looked like studies, others like function rooms, dining rooms, even ballrooms. All were appointed with chandeliers, crystal fixtures, and fine linen table covers. Even though it was only early afternoon, candles burned everywhere, giving the air a pleasant fragrance, the scent of which changed with each room that they passed.

The corridor ended in a sizable, airy reception area in which a central stairway rose to an upper level that was easily fifty feet above theirs. At the top stood a girl they all knew. Gracie spied her first and screamed, “
Stephanie
!!!” racing up the stairs towards her. In seconds all of the children were hugging wildly and hollering at the top of their lungs in the middle of the staircase, forcing Forrester to say, “Easy now, don’t fall. Best get down off of there now. Come on.”