Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) (37 page)

              The logistics of it all were harrowing however. Making sure that all of these men and women were fed, clothed, and had the basic necessities, took an army of its own. His command staff was made up of nearly a hundred junior officers who felt the need to keep him informed of every little detail. It hadn’t taken Nim long to remember why he had retired in the first place. The amount of paperwork he went through on a daily basis when they were having trouble keeping fires lit throughout the city was laughable.

              Nim was going over the latest report from a Captain named Lecroise on the difficulties of waste management when he heard the soldiers guarding the door snap to attention. The alacrity with which they snapped to attention made it clear that whoever it was approaching was fairly important. He placed the odious document on top of the 'to read' pile on his desk and checked his uniform. After straightening one of his sleeves, he heard the guards say “Arch Magus” through the door before a short line of conversation ensued.

              A short knock and the face of Sergeant Tanner appeared in now open door. “Sir…”

              “Of course, please tell Arch Magus Windsbane to come in, Sergeant.”

              “Thank you, young man,” the Arch Magus said as Sergeant Tanner held the door open for him.

              Arch Magus Windsbane reminded Nim more of an old drill sergeant than he did the most powerful Shaper in the Protectorate. By all accounts, the Arch Mage was nearly one hundred and thirty six years old, but his body was still extremely fit. The only concessions to his age that were apparent were his dark gray hair, which was shortly cropped, and the walking stick that went with him wherever he went. His clear blue eyes were serious as he looked about the room.

              “Arch Magus, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Nim said as he stood up.

              “Cut the bullshit, Nim,” the Arch Magus said as he sat in one of the chairs sitting in front of Nim’s desk.

              Sergeant Tanner had stopped halfway between closing the door and leaving the room as he heard the Arch Magus’s comment. Nim waved the young man out of the room and sat back down.

              “Alright old man, what do you want?”

              “Much better, but I’m afraid I’m here to deliver news more than enlist your services in anything.” His cold blue eyes locked Nim’s eyes in place. “I have just received a message from the Mage Za’kereth.”

              “I’m guessing since they haven’t reported in for several Eightdays that the information is not good,” Nim said, leaning back in his chair.

              “Not good at all, I’m afraid. Corporal Jameson and Sergeant Mcdowell are confirmed KIA. From what the Grey Elf says, the old Dwarf didn’t go down easy, nor did he die quickly.” The Arch Magus closed his eyes for a moment as if saying a prayer for the two before he continued. “Apparently, a large group of Dracairei attacked the squad while the Grey Elf twins were scouting the town. They saw several of the assassins carry an unconscious Rundig and a severely wounded Elandria into a building on the outskirts of town. The whereabouts of the Druid Warren and the Battlesorcerer Trenton Grimbash are unknown at this time.”

              “So, you are telling me that Stewart Cantel is heading into enemy territory to try to retrieve the Princess, and he’s about to head into a trap where there are what, half a dozen…”

              “At least,” the Arch Magus said.

              “…at least half a dozen Dracairei waiting for him. Not only that, but his only backup is a Grey Elf Priest and Mage, who are currently hiding somewhere in the village.”

              “That’s about right,” Arch Magus Windsbane said. “They took the form of a pair of villagers who lived in squalor and laid low in case one of the Dracairei was able to sense the Shaping. After several well planned tests, they are fairly certain that if the Dracairei did have someone who could do that they must have died in the initial skirmish, as none of their tests were detected as far as they could tell.”

              Nim sighed. “And knowing Stewart, if he finds out he’ll try to distract the Dracairei so that the twins can attempt a rescue and escape.”

              “That was also my thought.” The Arch Magus nodded. “I’m afraid we are going to need a new High Commander shortly.”

              Nim let several expletives slip at that.

              “Indeed.” The Arch Magus stood. “I did send a present with Stewart that could preserve his life if he is able to use it, but with the odds that he is up against, I am doubtful it will be of use. Should he die, the scroll will self-destruct taking it and everyone in the area with it. If we are lucky he will take most of the Dracairei out, one way or another, so that the others can escape unpursued.”

              “Thank you for the information. I was just thinking that I needed more information about what was going on outside the city, but now that I have it I wish I didn’t.”

              “Indeed, my young friend. Knowledge can be a terrible thing, but also a powerful tool.” The Arch Magus turned to leave, but stopped. “Speaking of powerful, have you heard from Erin recently?”

              Nim smiled, he couldn’t help it. “Yes, your god-daughter is fine, though she is not very happy. Apparently, she managed to find the mine where Victor was being held, but somehow gave the boy and the Goblins he had been imprisoned with the impression that she was one of the bad guys, and they hid the information from her for several days.”

              The Arch Magus smiled. “Imagine that—Erin giving someone the impression that she might suddenly strangle them at any given moment.”

              The men shared a knowing look.

              “Yeah, well by the time she found out and made it back to the cave after dropping off the prisoners, Victor was gone. Apparently he is in the company of a Grenaldin,” Nim said, which made the Arch Magus’s eyebrow arch. “Her group followed the pair’s tracks, along with an unidentified quadruped to the edge of Death’s Edge Forest.”

              “They’ll never find him in there, even if the Wolverines let them wander through unmolested. What is a Grenaldin doing out of Serenity Valley?” The Arch Magus asked.

              “I’m not sure. If we weren’t supposed to pretend like the place didn’t exist, I’d send a messenger to ask, but if those people found out we’ve known about them for a thousand years they might get hostile and do something stupid. Speaking of which, I believe Shawnrik should have started his courses there at the beginning of the year, assuming the Giants took him in like we expect they would.”

              “You are right. They like their secrets more than we Mages do.” The Arch Magus said before turning back towards the door. “From what Ashur has said about the boy, I have no doubt that Shawnrik will thrive in that place. I just hope the past doesn’t catch up to him there. Adrian still isn’t happy about how his little brother ended up murdered in Safeharbor.”

              “As much as I agree with Lord General Theromvore about the dubious nature of his brother’s demise, I think that Shawnrik will surprise those Stroml’dier bastards if they get any ideas.” Nim grinned. It wasn’t a happy grin, rather one that sent a shiver through most men that saw it.

              “I hope you are right,” the Arch Magus said, nodding to Nim from the doorway. The door nearly closed before Sergeant Tanner’s face appeared again.

              “Everything okay here, sir?”

              “Yes Sergeant, make sure you boys are ready to get some walking done. I suddenly feel the need for fresh air.”

              “Yes, sir. We’ll be ready.”

              Third Fifthday

Town of Verge

              The weather had gradually warmed over the last few Eightdays. The nights were nearly tolerable now, and Elandria no longer had to share her warmth with Rundig in order to ensure they both survived the cold. Rundig was now able to move about, though his body would twitch uncontrollably and leave him unable to do much more than pace back and forth for any length of time.

              One good thing about Rundig no longer being bed-ridden was that he could help her take care of the refuse and waste that had accumulated during their imprisonment. They were allowed only enough water to survive, so they were unable to clean any of their clothes or bedding, and as the weather warmed the stench of the place grew. Fortunately, they soon grew accustomed to the smell, but whenever their Dracairei capturer brought their food and water every three to four days, he would be freshly assailed by their poor living conditions. It had become so bad that the last time he came he simply opened the door wide enough for the bag to fit and tossed the supplies on the bed.

              Several mornings ago, a small red V had appeared on the barrel in front of the small window near her bed. She had to assume that it was a message from one of the twins telling her that they weren’t alone. It was a small hope, but she welcomed it all the same. Elandria didn’t know how many Dracairei were left, but she knew that if it was more than three or four the chances that the remaining members of her squad would be able to rescue them without casualty were very low. Of course, that was assuming that Warren and Trenton were out there somewhere waiting to help as well. If it were just the twins she knew they would most likely die in the attempt, even with all their tricks.

              No, it was likely that she and Rundig would end up as lab rats to whichever Blood Mage was pulling the strings. Should it come to that, she knew she would do everything in her power to make them kill her. But with her maimed and Rundig severely weakened, the Dracairei would simply laugh at the attempt. If she could get her hand on a sword she might be able to make them regret it.

Even though her left hand had never been her dominant hand, the training she received to become a Dervish had required that she be able to wield a sword with equal skill in either hand. The balance would be hard to adjust to at first, but she thought she might be able to do well enough to at least maim one of the assassins and hope it enraged them enough so they killed her. Of course, if she did that then Rundig would be alone.

All things considered, she had little hope for the future. It would take a miracle for them to escape.

              Third Eighthday

Serenity Valley

              Once again, Shawnrik stood in the back of the Tailor’s shop. This time, however, he wasn’t stripped down to his underclothes. He had started out the morning that way, but over the last hour he had suddenly become clothed in the nicest, largest suit he had ever seen. The jacket and pants were black, but the parts that Isaac called the lapels were purple with an ornate silver pattern that very closely matched the subtle pattern on his bracers. As he looked at himself in the giant mirror, he realized that the purple was a near match for the purple of the diamond that was in his earring.

              He hadn’t yet been to Gnorman’s to pick up the cufflinks, but he had a feeling that the crafty old gnome wouldn’t make anything that clashed with the earing he had fashioned. Olivia had not been allowed into the room this time, as she was with ushered into the next room over to be fitted for her dress by several of the Tailor's employees. However, Verrian was with him today, and from the height of his roommate’s eyebrows he gathered that the young man approved of his garments.

              “Dang Shawnrik, that is quite the outfit,” Verrian laughed.