Army of the Dead (2 page)

The spymaster entered the throne room of the temple on the Island of Darkness. Emperor Vand stopped in mid-sentence as he saw Clarvoy enter. He noticed the haggard look on the spy’s face and saw his left arm hanging limply.

“Everyone out,” ordered the Emperor as he waved Clarvoy towards him.

Xavo joined the others in the throne room as they headed out of the chamber. He halted near the doors when he heard the Emperor’s voice speak softly in his ear.

“Stay, Xavo,” the Emperor whispered through an air tunnel. “Clarvoy may need your healing.”

Xavo nodded subconsciously and turned around. He saw the Emperor drop the air tunnel as he approached the throne.

“What happened Clarvoy?” asked the Emperor as the doors at the far end of the throne room closed.

“I was attacked in Meliban,” answered the spymaster. “It is only a knife wound and not very serious, but I cannot focus on it myself. I need a healer to look at it.”

“See to his needs, Xavo,” instructed the Emperor. “Heal him well. Clarvoy is most vital to my plans.”

Xavo nodded and approached the spymaster. He cut away the fabric of Clarvoy’s tunic and examined the wound. It was a fairly deep cut, but Xavo had seen much worse. He probed the wound, causing Clarvoy’s arm to twitch.

“Sorry,” apologized Xavo.

“Just heal it,” frowned the spymaster. “It has become infected. I will not faint from your efforts.”

“It is unlike you to be noticed on the mainland,” frowned the Emperor, ignoring Xavo completely. “How did this happen?”

“Perhaps I grow careless,” Clarvoy shrugged, causing Xavo to halt his ministrations for a moment. “It is truly nothing serious. I pay no mind to it, and it should not trouble you. There is troublesome news, though.”

“Oh?” prompted the Emperor.

“The Jiadin are moving into the Astor’s fold,” reported the spymaster. “Wyant has agreed to release the Jiadin from the cities in return for their loyalty.”

“That will not last long,” laughed Vand. “Do not let it trouble you. The Jiadin are like children. Within days they will be seeking to raid Angragar once more. It is an alliance that cannot possibly hold together.”

“Wyant has agreed to take six of the leaders of the Jiadin to Angragar,” Clarvoy shook his head. “I fear that this time the Jiadin may actually remain loyal to your enemies.”

“He will actually take Jiadin to Angragar?” balked the Emperor. “You must follow them and find out where the lost city is.”

“I would have been one of the six,” frowned Clarvoy, “had it not been for this wound. I would have been discovered if I tried to impersonate one of the six with my arm bleeding as it was.”

“How fortuitous for the Astor?” seethed the Emperor as his eyes narrowed. “Tell me how you became wounded.”

“I was placing a spell on Wyant in his room during the night,” explained Clarvoy. “I heard a noise in the hallway and drew my knife. Within seconds the door opened wide and a Jiadin appeared. He saw me and moved more quickly than I had expected. I cast a blinding spell to destroy his vision, but his throw was most unfortunate. It struck me in the arm. I heard Wyant roll off the bed as the intruder shouted an alarm. I had no choice but to withdraw from the scene. Within minutes the entire city was awake searching for a man with a knife wound in his arm. I could not possibly stay in Meliban without detection, so I fled.”

“Extremely bad luck?” the Emperor asked suspiciously, “or is there more to it?”

“I think there is more to it,” Clarvoy hesitantly admitted. “Wyant’s room was at the end of a corridor. No Jiadin should have been there. Also, I had to maneuver carefully past peanut shells on the floor outside the marshal’s door. I assumed that Wyant had left them to alarm him, but upon reflection I realize that they were placed there by the Jiadin.”

“So the Jiadin were expecting an attack on Wyant?” questioned Vand.

“It would appear so,” nodded Clarvoy as Xavo cast the last of his healing spells, “but it is worse than that. If the Jiadin expected one of their own to assassinate the marshal, they would have posted guards outside the room.”

“So they were expecting an outsider?” mused Vand. “Is there any reason that you think they might have been expecting you?”

Xavo continued casting healing spells on the spymaster’s arm even though the wound was healed. He listened intently to the conversation, knowing who tried to kill Clarvoy and how the assassin had found out about the spymaster’s planned visit to Meliban.

“I had a great deal of time during the voyage back to think about it,” nodded Clarvoy. “I am convinced that my attacker knew who I was. I am also sure that I was expected in Meliban.”

“But who knew where you were going?” inquired the Emperor. “You do not even tell the ship captain your destination until you leave port. How could anyone know for sure where you would turn up?”

“That is it!” exclaimed Clarvoy. “I cannot believe I was so blind. The whole voyage back I tried to imagine who could possibly know my destination, but you just delivered it to me.”

“Explain yourself,” responded the Emperor.

“I never tell the captain our destination until we leave port,” confirmed the spymaster, “but the trip to Meliban was interrupted. You ordered the ship returned to port because of the communication from the inner circle of the Star of Sakova.”

“And you had already informed the captain of the ship of your destination?” asked Vand.

“Exactly,” nodded Clarvoy. “That is the only difference in this trip from thousands of others. I must go interrogate the captain immediately.”

“You will stay here,” the Emperor shook his head as he watched Xavo casting healing magic on the spy’s arm. “I will have the traitorous captain delivered, and we shall learn who on this island he told the destination to.”

Xavo felt an involuntary spasm wrack his body as he feared for Lady Mystic. Xavo knew that the sea captain could not resist the torture that awaited him. He made a show of completing the healing spell as Vand snapped his fingers and shouted a strange name.

“Barrok,” called the Emperor. “Come to me.”

Xavo patted the spy on the arm and nodded to the Emperor as he turned to leave so that he could warn Lady Mystic of the danger awaiting her.

“Stay, Xavo,” commanded the Emperor. “Your skills might be helpful in interrogating the captain.”

Xavo nodded dutifully and then heard a metallic clicking outside the throne room. He turned his head with curiosity towards the door on the side of the throne room. He was not prepared for the sight that unfolded before him.

A huge black creature bowed slightly as it entered the room. It did not bow in deference to the Emperor, but rather to facilitate its entry into the room as the doorway was too short to accommodate its height. The demon’s sharp claws tapped the stone floor as it straightened out and advanced towards the throne. Xavo gazed at the horned beast, its body gleaming in the torchlight like a shiny black metal. Its stride across the room spoke of tremendous power as its snout opened in a slight grin to reveal rows of sharp pointed teeth. Deep black eyes instantly took in the occupants of the room and discarded them as unworthy opponents. The demon halted before the Emperor and bowed its head slightly.

“Barrok,” commanded the Emperor, “I want the sea captain of the ship that arrived this morning. In fact, I want the entire crew of the ship brought here. They are not to be harmed, but you will not allow them to escape. Let nothing get in your way of pleasing me. Go.”

The demon grinned broadly and nodded its head. It turned and strode out of the throne room purposefully, its claws sounding as if the stone tiles of the floor would shatter with each step. When the creature was gone, Xavo found himself staring at the empty doorway.

“Impressive isn’t he?” grinned Vand. “I have more of them. Some were lost in the destruction of Vandegar so long ago, but six remain. They are sworn to protect me.”

Xavo fidgeted openly. He knew that Vand would attribute his unease to seeing the demon, and that was fine with the mage, but his mind was on his lover. If the sea captain were tortured, Vand would learn that Lady Mystic asked about the ship’s destination. He would know who the spy was, and that would result in her death.

“Can we be sure that the captain is the spy?” Xavo asked as he turned back to face the Emperor. “Even if he knew the destination of Clarvoy, how could he transmit that information in time to ensure that someone was waiting for Clarvoy?”

“A valid question,” nodded the spymaster as he rubbed his healed arm and flexed it. “It would take a mage with the knowledge of the air tunnel to send word to the mainland.”

“Were there such mages on your ship?” asked Xavo.

“There is always one on the ship,” the spymaster frowned, “but I strive to use mages that I can trust. I am sure of the loyalty of the mage who was present onboard the ship. Why do you ask?”

“Because even if the captain was willing to part with the information regarding your destination,” answered Xavo, “he would need the mage to deliver it.”

“It could be any mage on this island,” retorted Clarvoy. “Once the captain knew that I was headed for Meliban, he could have told someone here. He could even have told you,” Clarvoy added accusingly.

“Hardly,” smiled Xavo. “I was in this room when you arrived, and when you left. I never left the Emperor’s presence during your return to the island. Not only that, I resent your accusation. As you have, I have displayed my loyalty to the Emperor on many occasions. I do not question your loyalty; do not dare to question mine.”

“Enough,” scowled the Emperor. “I do not suspect Xavo, Clarvoy. His words are true about your last visit. He never left my presence. Let the captain tell us whom he told. That will finish the issue.”

* * *

The crew of the ship heard the shouting and the commotion from the city. They hurried to the rail and gazed towards the temple to see what everyone was shouting about. They saw the large demon marching down the front steps of the temple, its eyes fixed on the ship tied up to the wharf.

“Look at that beast,” shouted one of the sailors. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that. What is it?”

“One of the Emperor’s demons,” a soldier on the wharf answered. “We don’t see much of them unless the Emperor is in a really foul mood. Someone will die today, and not in a very pleasant way, either. I would stay out of its way if I were you.”

“But he is staring right at us,” one of the sailors gasped. “Look at his eyes. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

The captain of the ship pushed his way to the rail, the sailors moving apart to make room for him after they saw who it was. He stared at the approaching demon and swallowed hard. He had expected some type of reprimand after the spymaster came onboard hurt in Meliban. Clarvoy’s mistakes were always taken out on somebody else. He had fretted about the problem the entire voyage back from Fakara. When he heard the spymaster mumble something about the enemy knowing that he was coming, the captain remembered Lady Mystic’s conversation the day he had left the Island of Darkness. At first he could not believe that the Emperor’s daughter was a spy, but he knew it was true now. The problem, as the captain saw it, was that the Emperor would never believe that Lady Mystic was a spy. Vand would believe his own spawn over a sea captain.

Knowing that the vile creature was coming for him, the captain moved away from the rail. He looked around in desperation and saw that there was no escape. He looked once more at the approaching demon and felt his blood run cold. His whole body shivered at the thought of the demon’s touch. Hurriedly, he scampered up the mast as the demon drew closer to the ship. He pulled a line free from the mast and hurriedly tied it around his neck. By the time he had completed the knot, the demon stood alongside the ship. Shiny black claws reached out to snare the captain, but he deftly avoid them. He ducked behind the mast and then dove towards the deck. A loud crack rent the air as the rope went taut, the captain’s body swinging wildly from the end of the rope a mere pace above the deck.

* * *

The city of Teramar on the Island of Darkness was teeming with excitement. A sea of red uniforms flowed through the city as soldiers clogged the streets. Merchants closed up their shops as they ran out of merchandise to sell, and the inns were overflowing with drunken soldiers partying before the war. Outside the city, tents and campfires dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see. Tens of thousands of red-clad soldiers were still converging on the already packed city as the sun sank towards the western horizon.

On the roof of the main building hosting the headquarters of the army, Doralin stood watching the assembly of his armies. His red uniform was resplendent with numerous gold bars and stripes denoting the highest military rank afforded to an officer in Vand’s army, that of premer. There were only four premers in the entire army, and each had dozens of generals under his command. For the coming invasion, Premer Doralin had been assigned thirty generals, each commanding a force of ten thousand men. Those armies were now converging on Teramar to board the ships.

“It is quite a sight,” smiled General Valatosa, “is it not?”

“It is,” the premer nodded in satisfaction. “We have waited for this moment for far too long, but it is finally upon us. Are your men prepared?”

“My army arrived last week,” reported the general. “They are tired of sitting and waiting. Should I assume that we will be boarding within the next few days?”

“Your men will be boarding tonight,” answered the premer. “We have been placed on hold by a message from the Emperor, but I have been promised an answer by sundown.”

“On hold?” questioned General Valatosa. “Then the attack may not occur as planned?”

“The attack will occur on schedule,” replied Premer Doralin. “I understand that there may be a last minute change in strategy, but that will not affect your army. You will still be the spearhead that lances into the enemy’s heart. Make sure that the spirits of your men are high. They are to set the example for the other armies.”

“About those other armies,” frowned the general. “Many of the newest arrivals are a bit too deep into their ale. Fights have broken out at the inns. Can’t you put a stop to it?”