Keeper of the Realms: The Dark Army (Book 2) (41 page)

‘OK, are we ready?’ asked Charlie.

‘All right, ladies, gentlemen,’ instructed Lady Dridif in an iron voice. ‘Roll up those sleeves and let’s get ta it. Push! PUSH!’

The faces of the guards, councillors and servants wrinkled in disgust as they began their unpleasant task of manhandling the crispy remains of the burnt giant. Charlie, taking control of the Portal, indicated that E’Jaaz and Marsila should apply their Will to aid the effort.

Struggling and grimacing, pushing and straining, everyone slowly pushed Fo Fum’s remains forward. Groaning with difficulty, they finally succeeded in pushing it up to one edge, then with a final shout of ‘Heave!’ they shoved it so that it teetered for a second before gravity pulled it into the ocean with a great splash.

Everyone turned to watch as several fins broke the water’s surface. Wriggling through the waves, great sharks with razor-sharp teeth began to attack the corpse. Slowly the great lump began to sink with the sharks following it into the depths.

Charlie watched until the ocean waves grew calm once more. Almost as an afterthought she unfastened the belt that held the gargorillas’ controlling heart. Realizing that without an army to control it was useless, she cast it into the waves too. Satisfied, she closed the Portal.

‘I wonder if he ever thought he’d end up like that?’ said E’Jaaz.

‘Like what?’ asked Marsila.

‘As barbecued Fo Fum.’ E’Jaaz chuckled. ‘It almost sounds like the name of a real snack.’

Lady Dridif put her finger to her lip and nodded appreciatively. ‘I think that would be a suitable revenge,’ she mused. ‘I’ll have all the street food vendors in Sylvaris rename their barbequed Hoodwinks Barbequed Fo Fum.’

‘What’s a Hoodwink?’ asked Charlie.

‘A type of tree rat,’ said Dridif. Seeing the look on Charlie’s face she added, ‘They taste nicer than ya think.’

‘You want to name a street food after Fo Fum?’

‘Why not? Fo Fum added to the destruction of our city so dis way our citizens always get the chance ta bite back. With the addition of Barbequed Fo Fum ta our diet Sylvaris will always have the last laugh.’

Charlie stared at Lady Dridif, uncertain whether she should be horrified or amused. Seeing the twitch of a victorious smile on the old lady’s face, Charlie realized that she liked the idea. She chuckled in delight, enjoying the idea that the joke would become part of Sylvarian folklore.

‘So, young Keeper,’ said Dridif, interrupting Charlie’s thoughts, ‘how do ya and yer colleagues feel about cutting us a Portal back ta the Jade Tower?’

Charlie stared at the two adult Keepers, who were once again arguing as to whether or not E’Jaaz was to get a dinner date, a kiss or a fat lip from Marsila. Shrugging, she turned back to Dridif.

‘If it’s all the same with you I’m knackered. I’d rather save my Will and Portals and fighting for another day. What do you say to joining me in a
walk
back to Sylvaris?’

‘Wot do I say? Young Keeper … that sounds like a plan.’

Shoulder to shoulder, Charlie Keeper and the First Speaker of Sylvaris walked, or in Charlie’s case limped, towards the trees of Deepforest.

56

A Fallen General

The Shades had already informed Bane of all that had occurred at the battle of Deepforest. His fury had been significant upon hearing the news. The Throne Room bore the marks of his temper: statues lay strewn and broken across the floor and several of the great columns displayed fist-shaped cracks.

Yet, as elemental as Bane was, a strategist’s mind lurked beneath his shadowy cowl. He had already taken steps to prevent his barrier against travel being used as a weapon. Charlie Keeper might have made use of it once, but after conferring with his god, the barrier’s properties had been lifted. Any Keeper thinking of repeating the actions that had resulted in Fo Fum’s demise would surely be disappointed. He had also taken steps to prevent the news of his defeat from causing any damage to his growing empire. In a show of strength he had doubled garrisons throughout his territory and increased executions as a deterrent to any who thought they could take advantage of his loss.

There was one other vital piece of information that he intended to take advantage of: Sylvaris and Deepforest were now without defences. It was true that he had lost
his prime fighting force, the First Army, but Deepforest had lost two. His Shades had reported that not only had the Treman army been decimated but that the strange dark army led by the Keepers had also been destroyed.

Sylvaris was now ripe for the plucking.

‘Bring in my generals.’

Men-at-arms pulled open the heavy doors and footmen ushered in the generals. There were noticeably only two. The largest of the three – the leader of the First – was absent. The two generals clicked their heels together and saluted with a chorus of ‘My lord’.

‘The Jade Circle has expended all their forces and now lies defenceless. You will take both my Second and my Third Armies and you will crush Sylvaris. Crush it! I want that Treman city gone. Splinter its towers, harvest its citizens, burn the trees and salt the earth! I will have all traces of that city swept from my empire. See it done.’

‘Aye, lord,’ said the general with the milky eye.

‘Your will, my lord,’ said the one with the cleft in his jaw.

They both turned to go.

‘Wait,’ commanded Bane. ‘I think it only fair that you taste how I reward those who please me.’ The Stoman Lord snapped his fingers. At his bidding, twelve servants struggled forward, pushing four barrels that twinkled and sparkled with diamonds, sapphires, rubies and emeralds. ‘Your baths will be filled with these and tonight you will wash in wealth.’ Bane snapped his fingers a second time. A long line of slaves from all three races were led forward. ‘These will attend your every wish.’

The generals’ eyes glittered with greed.

‘My lord.’

‘My thanks, my lord.’

‘Enjoy tonight, let my generosity spur your ambitions, and when you return after crushing Sylvaris I will gift you more jewels than you can imagine. Return to me as victorious generals and I will let you
swim
in your reward. Now go.’

The two generals swaggered out of sight.

Bane waited for their footfalls to diminish before gesturing a footman forward. ‘Bring him in.’

There was a clink and rattle of chains as a large Stoman pressed beneath a great weight of shackles lurched his way into the Throne Room. The strain of the action was evident in the tensing of the tendons in his neck and the play of muscles round his clenched fists. Even though his head was held high, the man’s eyes betrayed his fear. He was none other than the disgraced general of the First Army.

Slowly and ponderously the man made his way to the foot of the raised dais where he knelt before the Devouring Throne. Pressing his forehead to the floor he failed to notice Bane’s fury rekindle itself as a dark halo that spat and boiled.

‘My lord, I did everything in my power to achieve your desire, but I simply could not –’

His words were cut off in a squawk as Bane leaned down and grabbed him by the throat. Holding him up so that his feet dangled above the floor, Bane growled, ‘You think that I will let such an error go unpunished?’

‘I-I face my death with honour intact, my lord,’ gurgled the general as best he could with Bane’s gigantic fingers pressed round his neck.

‘Honour?’ hissed Bane. Grabbing the chains he snapped them one by one. The links clanked as they struck the floor. ‘You think I will allow you to die with honour after losing my prime army? Gah!’ He flung the general across the room as though he was nothing more than a rag doll.

The disgraced Stoman rolled several times before coming to a stop in a darkened corner. There was a sibilant hissing and slowly the shadows unfolded. Shades reached out and entwined their dark tendrils round the general’s wrists.

‘For such a failure you will die a lacklustre and honourless death! You lost my First Army and for that you will be the first adult that I will devour. Shades, take him to my kitchens. I will eat him tonight!’

The general’s eyes widened, but before he could cry for mercy his mouth was stuffed with shadowy limbs. Legs kicking and drumming, he was hauled into the darkness.

‘Ya be the best Tree Singers. The best of all Sylvaris, of all Deepforest and of all Bellania, and it is for yer skills that I have had ya gathered here today,’ said Lady Dridif in solemn tones.

The men and women in front of her had all been deeply affected by the battle. Some had had their homes torched, others had lost family members, but each had in their own way made an effort to look as presentable as possible. Hair had been tied into the neatest of topknots, clean clothes had been borrowed and jade jewellery was worn with obvious pride. Now they stood on the sweeping balcony that
allowed the Jade Circle to look out across the ruins of Sylvaris.

The fires had been put out and the rubble had been cleared from the streets in a remarkably short time, but it was evident that Sylvaris was a broken city. Towers leaned at drunken angles, some had had floors and balconies ripped clean off, and others were little more than ruined stumps. In Deepforest great swathes of land had been burned to the ground and many of the beautiful and almost impossibly grand trees had been turned into piles of ash.

But there was hope. Many of the forest beasts and wild creatures that had fled during the chaos had started to return. Monkeys scampered through the remaining branches, the great flamingo-like birds that had always graced the Treman capital flew through the air in flocks, and other strange and magnificent creatures made a timid reappearance in the land.

Lady Dridif, caught in a stare as she examined her city, cleared her throat. ‘As I was about ta say, ya Tree Singers are gifted with wondrous skill and it is for dis reason that our once fair city of Sylvaris needs ya now. I charge ya with the rebuilding and regeneration of our way of life. It is in yer hands that Sylvaris shall be reborn. I would see our great towers arise from the ashes, our sweeping bridges rebuilt and the highways and boulevards that are the arteries and veins of this city reshaped. Tree Singers, I humbly bid ya, please repay our city for the shelter and happiness that it has provided us over the millennia. Please go forth and breathe new life inta our slumbering city. Go forth and make Sylvaris great.’

There was no applause or cheers from the throng for Dridif’s words, but there was an unspoken yet strongly felt sense of purpose. Bowing low, the men and women silently filed from the room. As they left, some of those who had been hardest hit by loss even managed to gently smile. Sylvaris would rise.

57

The Emperor’s Gift

The silence of Bane’s Throne Room was broken by the faint flutter of wings.

The sound was not loud or persistent enough to alarm the men-at-arms, but Bane was a different breed. Clenching his hand into a fist he banged it against his throne.

‘Crowman!’ he snarled. The fury of his voice spat around the room and caused the knees of footmen and servants to buckle. ‘Get down here!’

The flutter of wings grew louder. Swooping out of the darkness in a trail of feathers came Mr Crow. As he landed lightly, the broken remains of the gargorilla thudded next to his feet.

‘You dare,’ hissed Bane, ‘you DARE show your face back here after failing so spectacularly? I should rip your soul from your flesh and leave it dancing and flapping by your feet.’

‘Lord –’ began Mr Crow, but was cut short by Bane’s thundering voice.

‘You would
beg
?’ Looking for something to crush, but finding nothing within arm’s reach, the Stoman Lord settled for pounding both fists against the Devouring Throne. ‘You snivelling, squishy little Human.’

‘M-m-my lord,’ stuttered the terrified lawyer, desperate to get a word in before it was too late. ‘I might have missed the chance to kill Charlie, but I can still prove useful.’

‘Worth?’ sneered Bane. ‘You think you have worth? What use is a tool if it cannot complete a task? What need do I have for a dog that cannot sink its teeth into meat? Bah! Even with your new powers you are as weak and as blubbering as the rest of your soft and fleshy race.’

‘Maybe that’s true, my lord, but if I failed in one way perhaps I can make you stronger in another.’

Mr Crow placed his foot on the gargorilla and, with a heave, kicked it across the floor. It spun several times before coming to a standstill at the foot of Bane’s raised dais. The one remaining arm of the gagorilla spasmed slightly so its fingers curled, then it stilled and moved no more.

‘What is this broken thing? Is this your idea of a gift?’

Mr Crow’s eyes sparkled with the glint of nasty intelligence. ‘It is, my lord. But before you pass judgement on the matter you should know that it was an army of these that overcame your First.’

There was an intake of breath as the footmen feared that the weird lawyer was in some foolish way trying to bait the wrath of their lord. But surprisingly Bane kept his composure.

‘Go on,’ he growled.

‘Charlie Keeper led this army, but it wasn’t she who created them. That was done by a Stoman and a god. A god similar to the one that dwells beneath this Throne Room.’