Darkstone - An Evil Reborn (Book 4) (30 page)

“What happened?”

“Not necessary to know right now. I don’t know anyway. Go do it. Retain any person with power.”

“Of course, Marshal.” Tishiaki grinned in the torchlight.

Anchor didn’t need to command Tishiaki’s army any more. He was about to order his Ropponi escort to take him to Jellas when a fireball erupted among the deserters. He took off at a run, pushing and shoving through the men until he stood amidst the carnage. To the side he saw a few torches light up a Dakkoran sorcerer in his death throes.

“Tishiaki!” He looked for the commander and found him, breathing but burned.

“We weren’t quick enough,” Tishiaki said. The man grit his teeth in pain, as dead and dying lay around him.

“Do you teleport?” Anchor asked another Ropponi who shook his head.

“He doesn’t speak Bessethian very well,” his escort said.

“Can either of you heal?”

She said something to her countryman. They shook their heads.

“Take Tishiaki to Sally’s Corners and find Shiro. He knows where Chika is.”

“I’m right here,” Shiro said. His friend disappeared and a moment later, Chika appeared at Shiro’s side.

“Tishiaki,” Anchor said, kneeling next to the fallen commander.

~

Tensions and the infighting of Histron’s army continued until dawn. Shiro had spent much of the rest of the night splitting the sheep from the wolves. The number of Histron’s men who had made it through the lines and into the deserter population surprised him. Fully one-quarter of the men were unrepentant supporters of the usurper.

The fighting in the rogue army finally stopped when Anchor sent his relatively unscathed forces into the camp. Tents were collapsed and piles of them grew, depriving soldiers of hiding places.

Finally, Histron’s officers surrendered. Anchor had won, thanks to Tishiaki, who would survive, but with scars from the burns.

Anchor walked through Sally’s Corners. The deserters had been moved to a field outside of the village and would be subject to Shiro’s Sunstone later in the day. Anchor sifted through the smoking wreckage of The Traveler’s Rest. The meeting room, built onto the inn had been the sorcerer’s main target with another ball thrown into the common area.

His men had recovered seven bodies among the remains of the inn. Two were his soldiers. He could tell by the vestiges of uniforms left. The other five were inn workers including Regetta, the inn’s owner.

Duke Jellas put a hand on his shoulder. “Our headquarters are gone.”

Anchor grunted. “We didn’t need them anymore, but these fine people, including the inn’s owner, gave their lives last night. They should be remembered properly. I’m sure the Dakkorans thought that the Princess was inside.”

Regetta had been a good friend and confidante to Unca for many years. He would miss her and she would be noted along with others close to him that the alliance had lost, like the Duke’s son, Morio.

“War is never very pretty, is it Unca?”

Anchor didn’t even flinch at the duke’s use of his real name. “You know, too?”

“General knowledge for a few days,” the duke said. “I didn’t bring it up on the eve of battle. You are amazing. I wouldn’t have thought it was you. The Unca I remembered always deferred to King Billeas. You’ve learned not to, and have exceeded him.”

Anchor laughed. “Not a few of my ideas were his, but he always had the practical knowledge to know if my schemes would work or not.”

“I’d say you have plenty of practical knowledge now,” the duke said.

“More than I would have ever wanted.”

Shiro walked up to them. “Too bad.” He said as he noticed the charred bodies lined up. “We lost a few of our own to fire that burned Tishiaki last night, too. It is all too bad.”

Anchor could see weariness in Shiro’s gaze. “I need you to talk to the Histron officers. Those that won’t support us will be quickly executed for treason. I want it done today, then we can return to the southern alliance armies. We go to fight the forces that Histron has put around Foxhome.”

~~~

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ayrtan

~

D
aryaku rode up to her tent and walked in, sniffing the air.
“Get me Bishyar.”

Vishan laughed.
No one followed you in and I am unable to fulfill your command.
The time on the saddle went by much quicker for him as she began to set him aside again every time Vish became too active in telling her what a big mistake she had made leaving Dakkor to its own devices. It only used up her powers more quickly.

“Bishyar!” She yelled it as loud as she could, in Vishan’s voice, of course.

A Captain ran into the tent. He carried a satchel with messages and put them on the table. Bishyar soon followed. Vish could tell the man loathed Daryaku.

“Did you read them?” she said.

“I did. Not good news, I’m afraid, Emperor Daryaku. Histron had relied on a hidden army to seek out the Bloodstone. They were defeated in an unlikely place called ‘Sally’s Corners’. None of your sorcerers survived. An army from Learsea appeared from nowhere and took Histron’s force from behind. More men deserted Histron’s force than fought, it seems. With that army gone, Histron has vowed to fight to his last breath.”

Daryaku threw the satchel into the wall of the tent. “And what good will he be to me dead? Am I to do everything?”

As she continued to rant and rave, Vishan merely observed. He thought of himself standing in a corner of the tent, with arms folded and a wry smile on his face. He wanted to gloat, but he restrained himself from saying a word to his captor.

“Your orders?” Bishyar’s face betrayed his opinion of Daryaku complaints, but she was too irate to notice anything but her own anger.

“We leave for the West coast tomorrow at dawn,” she said. “I will start my conquest at Learsea.” She threw their body onto the bed. “I must rest.”

Vishan yearned to speak to General Bishyar and talk him into stopping this foolish attempt to invade Besseth, now that her major ally was about to be crushed. How many more lives would be lost to Daryaku’s ambition? She once had a chance to succeed and now? Vishan couldn’t see her path to victory. It made him ecstatic.

~~~

Chapter Thirty

Besseth

~

“W
ould you tell me again why you stayed
in Highfield after you had discovered the hidden army?”

Prince Peeron looked about him with blank eyes. Anchor really didn’t care that the other officers observed the prince’s dressing down.

“I captured Highfield and held it.” Peeron lifted his chin as if invading a defenseless city was a great accomplishment.

“Did it occur to you that following the army might be something worthy of your attention?”

“I notified you and your army defeated the enemy,” Peeron said. His eyes began to shift more.

“Duke Jellas’s son and another good friend of mine were killed along with a lot of our soldiers. That wouldn’t have happened if you had kept both armies together to snipe at their heels and slow them up so we could position our troops. It is clearly evidently your imagination doesn’t stretch far enough to put yourself into any kind of danger.”

Anchor had enough of Peeron. He’d never give the prince command of an entire army again. King Willom certainly wouldn’t support his son in this debacle. Not now and not if he knew that Peeron had feasted every night from the food and wine in Histron’s larder while good men fought and died.

“You will be re-assigned. I’m giving you five hundred men to guard our flank and our supply trains. If you fail in that, you won’t command a single trooper. Do I make myself clear?”

Peeron’s eyes grew large. “You can’t. My father will withdraw his troops.”

“No, he won’t.” Anchor tossed a folio at Peeron, who dropped it and picked it up. “I just came from Learsea. He wrote that order.”

Peeron’s jaw dropped as he read the order. “He gives you all discretion in assigning me to any position in the alliance army.”

“It’s your father’s hand. I can make you dig jakes for the rest of this campaign if I choose. Leave us. I’m putting you under General Antzen’s command.”

Antzen groaned as his eyes followed the Prince out of the tent. Anchor couldn’t restrain a smile. “I didn’t say he had to report directly to you.”

Anchor looked around at the men standing in the tent. “Tomorrow, we will reach Histron’s defensive circle around Foxhome. The battle plan is for General Bastian to take most of the men, now transferred to the eastern army, and plunge deep into the center of the main force.  Then we will attack from the South and the Alliance forces will squeeze in from the North, splitting Histron’s army.  That should be the end of it.

“But I hope it won’t come to that. Anter Hovitz, who helped us escape from Antzen’s clutches in Grianne, Shiro and I, along with a small force will work our way to just west of the castle. Before our forces close in on Foxhome, we will secretly enter the castle from the same passage that I used to leave Foxhome. Our mission is to take care of Histron before we have to engage. Good luck to you all and to the alliance. Tomorrow, the final battle for Besseth begins and I certainly hope the war ends before the battle starts. It won’t be our last as an alliance, but it will return Besseth back into Bessethian control and Daryaku’s influence will be crushed on this continent.”

The men saluted and left. Shiro brought Anter Hovitz in. The large man from the duchy of Ashof looked around Anchor’s tent with wide eyes. “Any more officers left?” The man shivered.

“Anter, I’ll need your strength for a certain assignment we’ve got.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Anchor looked at Shiro and at Anter. “We are going to invade the royal castle at Foxhome; the three of us with a few Ropponi and Lotto Mistad, seven in all.” Anchor enjoyed watching Anter’s reaction to his proposal.

The big man laughed. “Seven? What about all of your armies?”

Anchor waved his hand as if swatting away a fly. “Merely there to distract.”

“A very mighty distraction,” Shiro said and grinned.

“But why me?”

Anchor offered Anter a seat and Shiro sat as well.

“We will be using a secret entrance. I am presuming that Duke Histron hasn’t found out about it. That’s why we will have Ropponi with us. If something goes wrong we will use their powers to retreat. Lotto Mistad is a sorcerer with unusually strong talents at getting us through locked doors. And I want to use your strength to get us through the stuck ones. I’m going because I know the castle better than most. I lived in it for twenty-odd years, as a matter of fact.”

Anter laughed. “You’re playing a joke on me. I know you two are always bantering with one another.” Anter sat back in his creaking chair and thought better of it.

“I’m not who I seem. My old identity was Unca, the Court Wizard.”

“I’ve heard of him. An old guy who…” Anter furrowed his brow. “You’re only twenty-odd yourself.”

“The Bloodstone has the capability of granting youth, if you incant the proper spell, which I did. Unfortunately, or fortunately for me, youth came at the cost of my power.” Anchor didn’t tell him that his power had already started to fade with old age.

“I’ll have to believe you.”

“Good, you do that. We will disguise ourselves as Histron’s soldiers, so we won’t be immediately set upon. Our goal will be to capture Histron and then flood the castle with teleported soldiers.”

“Cut off the head, eh? That’s always a good strategy.”

“Difficult to execute in war,” Anchor said. The daring approach would eliminate a great deal of bloodshed and Anchor needed all of the credit he could get before he told Sallia about the way he contributed to her father’s death.

~~~