Army of the Dead (63 page)

Lady Mystic marveled at the similarities of the Vandegar Temple to the one she had grown up in on the Island of Darkness. She had heard that the Motangan temple was modeled after an ancient one, but she was filled with awe to actually be in the original temple. She was vaguely aware of being led by Xavo as if he knew exactly where he was going, but her mind was distant as she tried to visualize what life must have been like in the ancient temple in the days of its glory.

Unexpectedly, Xavo stopped at a blank spot on the wall of a corridor. He waved his hand slightly while mumbling under his breath, and a door appeared in the wall. The mage opened the door and ushered Lady Mystic inside. He closed the door and cast a spell over it. Lady Mystic shook her head in confusion and cast an illumination spell so that she could see in the dark windowless wall. She involuntarily inhaled deeply when she saw the skeleton on the floor.

“An old friend,” Xavo shrugged softly as he picked up a chair that had been tipped over.

He placed the chair at a nearby table and ushered Lady Mystic into it. He then walked around the table and sat opposite her.

“Who was he?” she asked.

“His name was Brakas,” answered Xavo. “He was a Fakaran who aided Vand’s mages here. His death was satisfying, but I hid the room to avoid anyone discovering the body before I caught up with Smarc at the mouth of the Meliban River.”

“So no one knows that this room even exists?” asked Lady Mystic.

“I cannot guarantee that,” shrugged Xavo, “but we should be safer here than anywhere else that I can think of. What were those soldiers saying about a half million dead warriors?”

“I have no idea,” confessed Vand’s daughter, “but I did notice the mark of the hellsoul on each of those soldiers at the entrance to the temple. My father appears to be forming a formidable army to deal with the Torak.”

“And it appeared that the Torak’s forces were actually winning this war,” sighed Xavo. “Vand sacrificed a million men in attempts to secure the mainland. Do you think that was all a ruse to allow him to return here without opposition?”

“No,” Lady Mystic answered after some thought. “I think my father has had a lot of time to dwell upon his revenge. I am sure that he worked out several different attacks to control the mainland. The other invasions were serious attempts to annihilate the people living here, but it was not his only plan. The defense of Vandegar may not even be his last plan. There is no way to know.”

“Well there are some things that we must find out,” Xavo declared as he stripped off his pack and withdrew his black cloak and put it on.

“You are leaving the room already?” asked Lady Mystic. “Why not rest a bit first?”

“We do not know how long Pakar will be gone from the temple,” answered Xavo. “The soldiers are conditioned not to interfere with a mage, so it makes sense to find out what we can as quickly as we can. You can rest here while I go sniffing around.”

“That is hardly an option,” Lady Mystic shook her head. “Two can search quicker than one. Let me get my cloak on before you unseal the door.”

* * *

Thousands of Fakaran tribesmen gathered at the great bulge of the Meliban River, which was halfway between the Valley of Bones and Vandegar. The free tribes had followed the north fork of the river, while the Jiadin had proceeded along the south fork. The ancient forests along the banks of the Meliban River had escaped the devastation wrought by the mages of the old invaders, and the two massive armies met under the thick canopy to begin their ride across the open plains towards Vandegar.

By the time the free tribes reached the meeting place, the Jiadin had been waiting for two days. King Rejji, shaman Bakhai, and Marshal Wyant dismounted and walked towards the Jiadin encampment. Wyant led the way through the Jiadin camps until he saw the Jiadin leader. Harmagan rose with three of his fellow tribesmen.

“We meet again, Marshal,” smiled Harmagan. “I am sure you remember my little brother, Scarab. The others are Jaker and Niger. What took you so long? We have been waiting days for you and we had the longest path to get here.”

Rejji stared open-mouthed at Harmagan’s brother. His mouth opened to speak, but Bakhai’s hand was quick to land upon his brother’s arm. He purposely stepped in front of Rejji and spoke.

“It is proper to show respect to the king,” admonished the shaman.

Harmagan frowned in confusion for a moment, but his recovery was quick enough to avoid embarrassment. He bowed towards King Rejji.

“We meant no disrespect,” the Jiadin said earnestly. “It is hard for the Jiadin to grow accustomed to such formalities.”

Rejji smiled and nodded as he stepped around Bakhai.

“Then let us sit and talk,” Rejji said in a friendly manner. “I am not used to these formalities either.”

The men sat around a fire, and Harmagan ordered food for the new arrivals.

“We had expected you sooner,” Harmagan said as he tried to assess the young man who changed the whole of Fakara. “Did you have problems along the way?”

“No problems at all,” answered Wyant. “We only travel half days.”

“Half days?” echoed Harmagan. “I do not understand. If we continue at such a slow pace, the Khadorans will have killed the Motangans before we get to Vandegar.”

“There is no need to rush,” smiled Rejji. “The Khadorans are two days away from Vandegar. Even at half day rides, we will arrive in plenty of time for the Jiadin to shed much blood.”

“But there are only fifty thousand Motangans there,” objected Jaker. “The Jiadin alone could handle such a force, and we could be at Vandegar within a day. Let us ride on ahead and save the Khadorans from the horrors of combat.”

“The tales of Vand’s strength are mere rumors,” interrupted Harmagan’s brother, Scarab. “Let me ride on ahead and assess the situation.”

“Alone?” questioned Wyant.

Harmagan laughed loudly and everyone stared at him curiously.

“My little brother is fearless,” he boasted. “He has been talking for days about going on ahead to scout things out. The thing is, I believe he can do it and come back alive. I think the king should seriously consider his offer.”

Rejji looked at Bakhai questioningly, and the shaman shrugged noncommittally. Wyant appeared to be greatly confused.

“Let me discuss this with my shaman and sheriff,” Rejji stated as he rose.

The three Fakarans stepped away from the campfire and spoke in hushed tones.

“Just what is going on here?” asked Rejji. “Is there some joke that I am not aware of?”

“Joke?” balked Wyant. “I do not think Harmagan means any disrespect. If he is guilty of anything, perhaps it is overconfidence. He believes that his brother can do almost anything. I would like to point out that Scarab was instrumental in getting the Jiadin to ally with us. He also saved my life in Meliban. Maybe he can successfully infiltrate the Motangan defenses.”

“The joke is on you, Wyant,” smiled Bakhai. “The one you call Scarab is really named Fisher. He is Emperor Marak’s personal friend and spy. The real question is what is he doing here?”

“Fisher?” echoed Wyant as a crimson tone spread across his face. “But how could Harmagan possibly believe that Fisher is his brother?”

“He doesn’t believe it,” replied Rejji. “Obviously, Fisher has some hold over Harmagan.”

“More likely,” interjected Bakhai, “Harmagan owes his life to Fisher. Whatever the reason, we should not let on that we know who Scarab is.”

“I also owe my live to Fisher, or Scarab, or whatever you want to call him,” nodded Wyant. “If he is Marak’s spy, there may be a chance that he could assess the situation at Vandegar. What is the harm in letting him try?”

“I think it is an excellent idea,” grinned Bakhai. “If nothing else, it would stop Harmagan from wondering why we are moving so slowly each day. We can say that we must allow Scarab the time to fully scout out the Motangan armies.”

“True,” Rejji nodded vigorously. “The free tribes are already questioning our pace. I do not need to add the constant questioning from the Jiadin. Call Scarab over.”

Wyant returned to the campfire and requested the presence of Harmagan’s little brother. Scarab smiled tautly and joined the group.

“Thank you for not exposing me,” Fisher said softly. “Scarab is a persona that I could not duplicate.”

“I can well imagine the truth to that statement,” smiled Rejji. “When this is all over, I want to hear the full story.”

“So you shall,” grinned Fisher.

“Can you really infiltrate the Motangans safely?” asked Bakhai.

“Safely?” echoed Fisher. “Nothing that I do can be done safely, but I am the best at what I do.”

“What do you truly hope to accomplish at Vandegar?” asked Wyant.

“There are several pieces of information that will be essential to see this matter closed,” answered Fisher. “We need to verify that Vand is indeed at Vandegar. We need to know what surprises he has up his sleeves, and if he has other forces that could be brought in behind us. The man seems to have an uncanny knowledge of our movements, and that causes me to worry about his strategy.”

“Do you need help?” asked Rejji. “I am sure that I could find others with the necessary skills to accompany you.”

“I work best alone,” Fisher shook his head. “It will be hard enough to get away from Harmagan without him sending an escort with me.”

“Does he know who you are?” asked Rejji.

“He does,” nodded Fisher, “but he will never tell anyone. He will maintain that I am his brother until his dying breath.”

“Impressive,” acknowledged Wyant.

“Get your gear together and leave when you are ready,” ordered King Rejji. “I will keep Harmagan occupied with other matters.”

Fisher nodded gratefully and ran off into the Jiadin encampment. The three Fakarans returned to the Jiadin campfire and sat down with Harmagan, Jaker, and Niger.

“Your brother is a most amazing man,” smiled Rejji as he sat down. “His courage and dedication speaks volumes of the bravery of the Jiadin.”

Harmagan and the other Jiadin beamed with pride, and the Jiadin leader signaled for Jaker and Niger to follow Scarab.

“Stay,” ordered King Rejji. “You have not been dismissed yet.”

“They are going with Scarab,” objected Harmagan. “He needs someone to watch his flanks.”

“Have you so little faith in the skills of your brother?” questioned Rejji. “Besides, I have decided to ride the rest of the way to Vandegar with the Jiadin as my escort. I would like Jaker and Niger to be my personal escorts, with you at my side of course.”

A look of surprise spread over Harmagan’s face, but he beamed with pride. Even though the Jiadin had ceased their war with the free tribes, they still felt like outsiders.

“It would be our pleasure,” Harmagan said with a bow of his head. “I could arrange for others to ride with Scarab.”

“Scarab just rode out of camp,” smiled Wyant. “I do not think he needs any help in what he plans to do. You must be very proud of him, Harmagan.”

“I am,” Harmagan conceded worriedly. “All Jiadin are proud of him, but I worry for his safety. Let me send someone after him.”

“The night Scarab saved my life,” Wyant shook his head, “he told me that he prefers to work alone. I think I understand why now, but we must allow him to do what he does best.”

Harmagan stared into Wyant’s eyes trying to determine if he knew Scarab’s secret, but the marshal was stone-faced. Finally, the Jiadin leader nodded in acquiescence.

“It will only be for a day,” Harmagan sighed.

“It will be two days,” corrected Rejji. “We will continue to ride half days. We must allow Scarab time to assess the enemy before blindly charging forward.”

“You are right,” agreed Harmagan as the Fakarans got up to leave.

The Jiadin waited until the king and his party had left before talking among themselves.

“What happened?” asked Jaker. “I know something is going on, but I cannot tell what it is.”

“Why does the king want us to ride with him?” questioned Niger. “Why did they speak to Scarab alone?”

“And why are we riding half days?” added Jaker.

“You ask too many questions,” bellowed Harmagan, but those very questions were rolling around in his own mind.

“Are we wrong to question things?” asked Niger.

“No,” Harmagan sighed heavily. “Scarab is a convincing person. I am sure that he insisted that he could spy on the Motangans and that he could do so alone. The king obviously agreed.”

“And the king is riding with us to spy on us?” posed Jaker.

“I don’t think so,” replied Harmagan. “He has no need to spy himself. He has many under his command that could do that for him. I suspect that he wants to completely heal the rift between the tribes. Maybe this is his way of doing that.”

“Alright,” conceded Niger, “but what about the half day rides? He says that is to allow Scarab time to spy, but the free tribes have been doing half days since the Valley of Bones.”

“Now that is a true mystery,” granted Harmagan. “I want you two to filter through the camps of the free tribes and find out what you can. No Fakaran horseman rides half days when a battle is ensured at the end of the trail. There is a reason for the king’s pace, and he has not yet revealed it to us. I want to know his secret.”

“You can count on us,” grinned Niger as he and Jaker rose eagerly from the campfire.

Fisher dismounted at the western edge of the woods and set his horse free. He did not intend to ride into the enemy encampment, and the sight of a free horse roaming the plains would cause a curiosity that he preferred not to happen. It was still a long walk to Vandegar, but the sun would be setting soon. If he encountered no difficulties and kept up a decent pace, the spy could be in Vandegar when the sun rose in the morning.

Fisher stripped off his Jiadin disguise and pulled a Motangan uniform from his pack. He had last used the uniform on the Island of Darkness and it was in good shape. He rolled his Jiadin clothes up and shoved them to the bottom of the pack in case anyone wanted to give a cursory inspection of his belongings. Attired as a Motangan soldier, the spy stepped out of the forest and headed westward.