Book 6: Chapter 49: Staging
It was near sunset the next day when Guapo powered up a steep hillside, providing an unobstructed view of the mountain approach, the cascading falls, and the citadels that sat like white-washed chess pieces on either side of the raging river. They were still too distant for Victor to pick out details; he couldn’t see any people on the ramparts or crossing the impressive stone span of the bridge between them. He could see the snakelike road that led up through the foothills to the first citadel, and, not far from where he and Valla sat atop Guapo’s back, he could see his army encamped, guarding the approach to that road.
He frowned as he looked away from the army, up the hill, back to the two massive keeps guarding the road to Hector’s base, the town at the top of the mountain. He still couldn’t see anything of the actual volcano or plateau or whatever it was. Just past the second citadel, the curtain of green-tinted fog grew too thick. It was like a sickly cloud had come down to the ground, obscuring all observation. Even the air around the citadels was hazy, and Victor had a feeling that if they weren’t so high on open hilltops, so exposed to the air currents and the flow of that raging river, they’d also be near-impossible to see.
Valla shifted behind him and pointed. “It looks like the reserves from the pass are here.” It was true; the encampment was far too large just to be the ninth cohort. They’d set up a perimeter fortification and even constructed a stone watchtower further out, directly on the curve of the gravel-strewn mountain road leading toward those two final fortifications guarding the approach to Hector’s base.
“Yeah. Looks like they noticed us.” Victor pointed to movement down the slope, about halfway to the encampment. A rider on a roladii was galloping toward the camp.
“Well, I suppose we’ll need to get this over with.” Valla didn’t sound excited, and Victor knew she was nervous. It would be the first time people who really knew her, other than Victor, would see how she’d changed.
He clicked his tongue, getting Guapo moving again, then reached back and found Valla’s hand, squeezing it in his. “You’ll be fine. Are you sure you don’t want to fly into the camp? Really give them something to talk about?”
“No!” She snaked her other arm up around his chest, pulling herself close to his back. “Could you maybe make yourself a little bigger so I don’t look so tall?”
“Hmm?” Victor had been reducing his size the same amount as usual, which happened to be just about the same height Valla now stood. “Seriously?”
“At least at first?”
“I mean, we’re tall right now, too tall for comfort in some houses. You want me to add another couple of feet to myself? ‘Cause that’s what’ll happen if I cancel my spell.”
“Don’t cancel it! Just relax it a little. Give yourself another six inches. Just for now, Victor!” She squeezed him again, and he sighed, chuckling. His protest was more about teasing her than him actually caring. He extended his will and pulled back the flow of Energy to his Alter Self spell, and he and Guapo both expanded in size. “Better!” Valla laughed.
Victor tapped his heels against Guapo’s sides, and the Mustang leaped into a gallop, tearing down the hillside and thundering over the grass and scrub-covered ground toward the encampment. No one could mistake the massive horse for anything other than Victor’s mount, so he wasn’t worried about alarming the sentries. As they pounded over the cleared area outside the camp’s fortifications, Victor urged Guapo to slow, and they trotted through the wooden palisade gate. The soldiers atop the ramparts saluted, and some shouted excited greetings. Victor waved and turned back to wink at Valla. She smiled, encouraged, and partly extended her beautiful silver-teal wings, allowing her feathers to ripple in the breeze of their passage.
When they’d ridden past the latrines, the stockyards, a few hundred tents, and the cook pavilion, Victor caught sight of Lam and Edeya, their wings glittering blue and gold in the early twilight, and turned Guapo toward them. Just as they arrived and slid down from the horse’s back, so too did Kethelket and Sarl, one fluttering in from the east on dark, silent wings and the other walking briskly attended by a small retinue of junior officers.
“Valla! Roots!” Lam cried, the first to find her voice as Victor and Valla, smiling and waving, stepped toward the group.
“Rihven?” Kethelket asked, his voice hushed and his eyes distant with some ancient memory.
“Rihven?” Edeya asked, looking around the group, clearly puzzled by the word.
Valla wasn’t one to enjoy the spotlight, and she spoke up, probably to put the mystery to rest so they’d stop talking about her, “That’s right. I’ve awakened the Rihven bloodline from an Ordeni ancestor. Now, forget about that, will you? Tell us what news you have of your siege efforts.”
“Oh, no!” Lam laughed. “We won’t be put off quite that easily! I’ve never even heard of the Rihven bloodline, but Valla, your wings! They’re just as spectacular as the Ridonne’s! You’re far more beautiful than any Ridonne could hope . . .”
Valla frowned and folded her arms. “The Ridonne killed my ancestors. They drove them to extinction. Well, I suppose that’s not wholly true, or I wouldn’t exist. There are likely others among the Shadeni and Ardeni with traces of their bloodline, but . . . well, let’s say I’d rather you didn’t compare me to one of them.”
“I’m sorry . . .” Lam seemed to be having trouble finding the right words, and Victor was about to step in, but Edeya beat him to it.
“Valla, Tribune, we Ghelli aren’t always cognizant of the histories of the peoples from your home world. Tribune Lam didn’t mean any offense.”
“Right, I didn’t . . .”
Valla took a deep breath, and Victor noticed her clench and unclench her fists. “Oh, relax, you two. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I have a newfound animosity for the Ridonne, finding myself disliking them even more now that I’ve learned how they’ve doctored history to erase entire species of people. I don’t hold it against you.” Valla turned to Kethelket. “You recognized my bloodline?”
“Oh, aye. During the joining, when the world was new, I saw more than one Rihven among the Ordeni. I visited their settlement, the great garden city they’d constructed at the heart of the continent.”
“Starfall Sea,” Sarl said softly.
“Aye. From a hundred leagues distant, I witnessed their destruction. It was cataclysmic. A single act that wiped out one people and sealed the doom of another.”
“What other?” Edeya’s eyes were wide with fascination at the impromptu history lesson.
“The Yovashi, of course. When they called down the mountain-sized piece of moon to smash the Ordeni city, the disaster shook the ground and darkened the sky over the entire continent for months. It was the one thing that could unite all the other peoples from all four worlds; they made a pact to wipe out the Yovashi, and that’s what they’ve done. Largely.”
As the little group grew quiet, Victor glanced over their heads, noting the crowds gathering nearby—soldiers were curious, wondering what their arrival might herald. He was thinking about whether or not he should address everyone when Sarl spoke up, “It’s wonderful to see you both. Shall we go to the command tent and review what we’ve learned and how our preparations have gone?”
Victor nodded. “Lead the way.” As the group followed Sarl further into the camp, Edeya moved to walk beside Victor.
“You can see the reinforcements from the pass have arrived.” Victor could tell she had more to add, so he just nodded. “Um, it seems one of your old companions came along with them. I know this because she came to me asking where you were and when you might arrive in camp. Her name is Chandri, and I know I wasn’t supposed to read the note Thayla sent you, but I’m a fast reader, and I noticed that name in the text, so . . .”
“Ahh! She’s here?” Victor looked around, twisting his neck left and right, wondering if he’d catch a glimpse of her watching them among the other soldiers. When he didn’t spy her, he looked back toward Edeya and caught Valla grinning, shaking her head. “Thanks for letting me know, but I’ll have to think of an appropriate punishment for reading my personal messages.”
Edeya’s cheeks bloomed, and she sputtered, “I didn’t read . . .”
“He’s teasing you, Edeya.” Valla squeezed the much smaller woman’s shoulder, tsking her tongue. “You know him better than that.”
“True!” Edeya laughed. “When he’s this large, though, it’s a little hard to remember that he’s the same friend I had back in the mines.”
“All right, all right.” Victor held up his hand, shaking his head. “I can see where this is going. Let’s stay serious for a minute, okay? We have a war to win.”
“That’s rich coming from you.” Valla wasn’t letting him off that easily, but Victor was rescued by the group’s arrival at the command tent.
“Here we are. I can go over the lay of the land on this map.” Sarl gestured to a big square table where a large, colorful map had been drawn, complete with hand-crafted, painted wooden models representing troops, hills, and structures.
Victor stepped up to the table, and behind him, Valla cleared her throat. “Where’s your prisoner?”
Kethelket answered, “Victoria? She’s under guard in a nearby tent.”
Victor was glad she’d asked. He had more questions for the woman and was happy to see Kethelket was taking his duty as her warden seriously. “I’ll want to meet with her after this.”
“Of course.” Kethelket moved around the table to stand near Sarl. Victor approached on the near side, studying the table, already resenting his height; it felt like he was looking down at a child’s play table. Still, when Valla stood beside him, he remembered why he was so large and pushed the selfish complaint out of his mind, concentrating.
“I see you have some of the road past the citadel mapped out.”
“My scouts flew into the death fog in the darkness of night. The road follows a switch-back pattern for approximately three miles before descending into the caldera.”
Valla leaned forward and ran her finger along the curved road to a blank space on the map. “And what’s that like? The caldera?”
“My scouts couldn’t go within. Hector’s magic is too thick in the air there. He has ward stones set up around the entire mountain top.” He paused, frowned, and stroked his chin. “I have some soldiers who wanted to try anyway, to push past the wards, but I forbade it. I’m sure they’ll be caught.”
Victor felt a growl rumbling in his chest. “Good. I won’t feed that bastard any easy victories.” He tapped his big, thick finger on the map near the white-painted models of the citadels. “What about here? What kind of resistance are we going to face?”
Sarl fielded the question, “We’ve estimated the troops in the first citadel at something more than a thousand, but we don’t know much about them. They wear armor similar to the reavers we slew near Old Keep. Victoria claims ignorance about the lords of these keeps.”
“Any plan for attack yet? Are we waiting for the main army?”
Lam cleared her throat. “That’s one option. We’ve constructed six trebuchets designed to be used by our earth casters. I believe we can destroy that gate.”
While Victor stared at the map and tried to picture the assault, Valla asked, “And can they return fire? Are there no siege weapons atop those walls?”
“There are, but we can spread out, whereas those gates are stationary. We’ve also only seen catapults and ballistae. Our Energy-driven trebuchets have a much greater range.” Sarl reached forward to the map and tapped the area where their camp was drawn. “We can set up the trebuchets in a wide area.” He drew a semi-circular line with his finger. “They can hit the gate from every angle, and it will take the engineers in the castle a long time and great luck before they’ll return any damage to our fire teams. We can also reposition as they lock in a target. Time is on our side in a siege like this.”
Victor finally spoke, “Have you seen any troop reinforcements come down the mountain?”
“None per se,” Sarl replied, “though our scouts and watchers have seen things flying in the mist. I’m of the opinion that we don’t have a good grasp on the forces Hector may yet bring to bear.”
“How far out is my mother?” Valla asked.
“A week or more,” Edeya replied. “The same with Borrius. They’ve both encountered remnants of the armies Hector had patrolling his former territories, though they’ve made short work of them.”
“Huh.” Victor rubbed his chin, and his scowl must have been heavier than he’d intended because everyone grew quiet until, finally, Sarl asked what everyone was wondering.
“Something’s bothering you?”
“Yeah. Everything’s going too damn well. I can see we caught Hector by surprise. I can believe that much; we caught him with his pants down and picked apart his armies one by one by keeping our momentum in the face of some lucky initial encounters. I don’t believe that we’re going to wrap this up so easily, however. It feels too . . . neat. I think he’s biding his time—he saw we were wiping out his far-flung armies, and rather than throw his reinforcements at us piece by piece, he’s consolidating. I think this mountain is going to be a bitch to invade.”
Kethelket nodded. “As troubling as those words are, I fear you’re correct. From my understanding, this man was a prince in a world where war and competition are fierce. He won’t be a pushover.”
Edeya surprised Victor by speaking up without prompting. “So what do we do?”
He looked at her and grinned, and his Quinametzin heritage gave the expression a savage aspect. “We take it one bite at a time. We take the first citadel, and then we’ll have a much stronger foothold on this mountain from which to advance. If we play it right, we might be able to lure more and more of his forces down to defend it and the bridge. Rellia and Borrius are setting up watch stations all around the mountain; we’ll know if he does something unexpected. So, as Sarl said, we take our time, wear down this first citadel, then storm it. From there, we’ll reassess.”
When everyone was quiet, some nodding, some frowning, but everyone staring at the map, Victor continued, “I’ll go and speak with Victoria now. Let’s begin our bombardment at dawn. Can you be ready by then, Sarl?”
“Yes, sir! I’ll have the trebuchets moved into position tonight.”
Lam cleared her throat, “Be sure they have strong fire teams with Elementalists to guard against ranged responses.”
Sarl chuckled. “Standard Legion protocol, aye?”
“Aye.” Lam smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.
Victor turned to the tent flap. “Right. I’m off to speak with Victoria. Valla?”
“Not this time. Hand me your house, and I’ll get it set up. I want to meet with Edeya and compose some messages to Borrius and Rellia.”
“All right.” Victor pulled his jade travel home from the pouch at his belt and handed it to her. Her fingers lingered on his for a moment, and it looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t. She nodded quickly and turned to leave the tent ahead of him, Edeya hot on her heels.
Kethelket stepped forward. “I’ll show you the prisoner’s tent.” He led the way out, and Victor followed him just a few dozen yards to a dark tent with a single amber glow lamp posted outside. One of Kethelket’s masked Naghelli stood outside. He saluted, and Kethelket nodded to him. “The legate will see the prisoner.”
“Sir!” The guard hurried to lift the tent flap.
“I’ll meet you later, Victor. Shall we spar tomorrow, time permitting?”
“Maybe. Let’s see how the bombardment goes.”
“Of course. I didn’t say it before, but I hope you know how glad we all are to have you here with us. The troops don’t show it, but being in the shadow of that mist-shrouded mountain comes with a burden that can be felt in lost sleep. Shadows within shadows awaken fears most men and women haven’t felt since childhood.”
Victor stared into his dark eyes for a minute, thinking about what he’d said, then nodded solemnly. “We’ll shed some light on things around here, Kethelket. Starting tomorrow, the creatures on that mountain will be the ones losing sleep.” Kethelket smiled grimly, then snapped a sharp salute, something he’d obviously been working on, and turned to walk briskly into the night.
Victor stooped to enter the tent, glad that the post at the center was a tall one, vaulting the fabric ceiling. When the second Naghelli guard saw him enter, she slipped out behind him. Victoria sat in a comfortable chair, a thick book in her lap. The only other furnishings in the room were a plush red carpet and another amber-tinted glow lamp. She’d closed the book when he entered, but her fingers were inside, holding her place. Victor summoned a chair from his storage ring and sat before her. “Reading something good?”
“It’s a book of folktales from this world. Fascinating stories, honestly.”
“Who gave you that?”
“The tall, winged woman with the golden hair. Lam, I think, is her name.” Victor frowned at her, something about that answer rubbing him the wrong way. Victoria knew Victor spoke to Lam often. She knew her name. Why did she put on this show of being unsure about it? Why did she describe her as though she wasn’t sure?
“Been spending a lot of time speaking to Lam? Anyone else?”
“I . . . you didn’t tell me I couldn’t speak to anyone. Not since you first put me in the tower.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I’ve spoken to anyone who would take the time to do so, Victor! I’m alone, lonely, bored. Having people to speak to, things to read,” she held up the book, “keeps me from thinking about the uncertainty of my future. I still fear Hector’s reprisal. I fear a change in heart among you and your allies. I count every dawn I wake, still alive, as a small victory.”
“Are you? Alive?”
“I’m more alive than dead. Might we agree to that, at least?”
Victor waved his hand, dismissing the subject. “Let’s turn our attention to something a little more important. Who commands these citadels? Why haven’t you told us about them as you did the other ‘barons’ in the outposts? More importantly, talk to me about Hector. What kind of creature is he? Don’t spare any details.”
Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freew𝒆bnov𝒆l.c(o)m