Mindbender (68 page)

Alexander looked out at Northport and shook his head in frustration. “That city is a deathtrap. I have no doubt we can defeat them but at what cost?”

“I know how you feel, Son, but I don’t see that we have much choice,” Duncan said. “They have to be dealt with and sooner would be better than later.”

“I agree. But we can’t afford to grind our army into dust doing it,” Alexander said. “We need a better strategy than an all-out assault, because I guarantee this isn’t going to be the last battle we fight before this war is over.”

“Sleep on it, Son,” Duncan said. “Maybe things will be clearer in the morning.”

Alexander spent the rest of the afternoon circulating through the vast army encampment. Jataan trailed silently behind him as he talked with the soldiers. He wanted to gauge their determination and morale but also wanted to thank them for their sacrifice and service. He was humbled by their willingness to face the enemy no matter the cost, but he also knew that much of their enthusiasm was born of inexperience. The younger soldiers who had yet to step onto the battlefield were the most eager to prove themselves. Those who had recently fought in the battle of Headwater or at the Gate were more somber and reserved, although no less dedicated.

Alexander returned to his command tents with renewed determination to limit his army’s casualties as much as possible. After dinner he listened silently to a lively debate between his general officers and a number of wizards, including the Guild Mage. They presented options and strategies for assaulting the city, exploring every possible capability they could bring to bear. Many of the strategies hinged on the unique magic of one wizard or another, while other plans of attack were more blunt and direct, depending on the sheer size of his army to overwhelm the defenses of the enemy.

In the cases of the wizards, Alexander knew they would be able to do significant damage to the wall and even to the enemy forces but nowhere near enough to overpower a force of a hundred thousand soldiers dug into a walled city. The strategies that relied on the brute force of numbers would be far more costly than he was willing to accept in terms of lives lost.

He lay awake in his bed with a growing feeling of dread. So many lives hung in the balance. The future of tens of thousands of souls rested on the choices he would make in the coming days.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Little One,” he said silently to Chloe. “So many lives—how can I decide their fate? What gives me the right?”

“It isn’t your right, My Love, it’s your duty,” she said. “The enemy fights for ambition and power. You fight for the Old Law and the protection it guarantees to the innocent of the world who simply wish to live in peace. If you fail, many more will suffer.”

“But how can I send so many soldiers into that city knowing that most will die?”

“It does not matter how the enemy dies, My Love, only that they do,” Chloe said in his mind. “Battle is not always the best way to kill those who must die.”

Alexander felt a great weight lift as he settled on a strategy. “Thank you, Little One. I think I can finally fall asleep now.”

***

He woke with a start in the dead of night. There was commotion outside his tent. He sat up and reached for his baldric when he heard it. An inhuman howl like a cross between a dying pig’s squeal and metal scraping against metal. He’d heard the sound before and his blood ran cold.

Chloe buzzed into a ball of bright light and was suddenly hovering a few feet in front of him.

“Darkness comes, My Love.”

Alexander was pulling on his boots when Jataan entered his tent.

“We’re under attack,” he said.

“I know,” Alexander growled. “It’s nether wolves. Send out the word to cut off their heads. Arrows are useless against them, but they don’t like bright light.”

Jataan nodded and left the tent.

Alexander stepped out into the night and was greeted by the distant sounds of chaos as the unnatural beasts wreaked havoc in the outskirts of his camp.

Anatoly came running up, with Jack and Lucky not far behind.

“Sounds familiar,” Anatoly said, axe in hand.

Jataan returned with Boaberous. “Your orders have been given.”

“Good. We need horses,” he said, turning toward the stables.

Lieutenant Wyatt and his dozen men were strapping saddles on their mounts. Alexander’s horse and a half dozen more were already prepared.

“I took the liberty,” Wyatt said as he cinched the last of his saddle straps into place and mounted.

“Well done,” Alexander said, then turned to Jataan. “You’ll need a sword.”

Within moments they were riding through a camp fraught with confusion and distress. These men were willing to fight enemies that they understood but this was something else. The very sound of a nether wolf’s howl was enough to send shivers of fear into the heart of even the most battle-tested warrior. Alexander understood how they felt all too well.

As they neared the area of the attack, the chaos grew. Men screamed and ran into the night. Some huddled in groups of four or five with their backs to each other, brandishing torches to keep the night at bay. A few called out in challenge to the darkness to show itself and fight. Still others cowered in the shadows, hoping that the darkness wouldn’t find them. Men lay broken and bleeding all around.

Then Alexander saw the eyes that he remembered only in his nightmares. The hate in those eyes was visceral and timeless. His horse caught a whiff of the unnatural monsters and became skittish and afraid. He dismounted, turned his horse away from the enemy and slapped it on the rump, sending it running off into the night.

The first nether wolf came with terrifying speed, but Alexander held his ground.

Several more of the foul creatures in the darkness abandoned the frantic soldiers they had been stalking and turned to attack their real prey.

He drew the Thinblade in his right hand and Mindbender in his left. He didn’t know if he would be able to hear the thoughts of the nether wolves or if he even wanted to, but having another blade in hand couldn’t hurt.

His friends and the Rangers all dismounted. They drew swords in anticipation of the attack, all except Boaberous who was armed with his giant war hammer and Anatoly who always fought with his war axe if given a choice.

“Take their heads,” Alexander said to the small army surrounding him.

The lead nether wolf leapt through the air, black as night with colors darker still. Alexander waited calmly until it reached just the right range, then slipped to the side and brought the Thinblade up fast. The beast’s head came free and its body crashed to the ground in a broken heap of bleached bone and dried-out hide.

The next came quickly out of the shadows behind Alexander. Jataan was covering his flank. When he saw the beast, he raised his blade, waiting for the right moment to strike. The nether wolf ignored him in its path to Alexander and lost its head for the miscalculation. Then the remaining wolves were all around, peering from the darkness and waiting for their opening to strike.

Another bounded out of the darkness from the flank. Anatoly didn’t have the angle to get a clean stroke at the creature’s neck, so he swung horizontally at its foreleg. His axe blade sliced deeply into the side of the beast but that didn’t stop it from crashing into Alexander.

He saw it coming but not quickly enough to bring the Thinblade down on it. Instead, he brought Mindbender up and across his body to shield against the powerful, oversized jaws, snapping and snarling, as it bore him to the ground. When he went down, several more of the beasts darted into the fray from all sides.

Boaberous met the first. His downward stroke hit the beast just behind the head on the center of its neck, driving it to the ground in a broken heap. But the one just beside it crashed into the giant, knocking him to the ground and landing on top of him.

A Ranger fell and died quickly when a nether wolf knocked him to the ground and ripped out his throat. It looked up in a frenzy and leapt toward another terrified Ranger.

There were at least a dozen all around and they were coming too quickly.

The one on Alexander bore into his chest with one claw and pinned his right arm to the ground with the other as it tried to tear into his throat with its fangs. Somehow he managed to get Mindbender into its mouth. With the point of the sword against the ground beside him, he leveraged it up to push the monster away as much as possible.

With his all around sight, he watched Jataan face off against another beast. It seemed to be toying with him, distracting him from helping Alexander in his desperate fight against the one on top of him.

Anatoly drove the top spike of his axe into the rump of the nether wolf trying to kill Alexander but only succeeded in shifting the monster’s weight a little. It didn’t waver from its single-minded effort to kill Alexander. As it bore down on him, Mindbender cut deeply into the sides of its mouth but it didn’t seem to care. Alexander could feel the coldness of its breath. The rotting stench of it made him gag.

Then there was light flooding into the area all around him. Jack and Lucky held their night-wisp dust high and pure white light flooded into the desperate battle. The nether wolves suddenly turned into thick black smoke that sank to the ground and seeped into the dirt to escape.

At least two nether wolves outside the field of light howled in rage and frustration. Alexander rolled to his feet and surveyed the scene. Three of the Rangers commanded by Lieutenant Wyatt were dead. His men had paid such a high price for their loyalty. Many more were bruised and battered. Boaberous had a deep gash on his left arm.

Alexander looked off into the darkness and found the two pairs of eyes.

“Anatoly, Jataan, you’re with me,” he said. “Jack, Lucky, hold your position. Everyone else, stay in the light.”

He stalked toward the darkness and the creatures of the night that awaited him. When he reached the edge of the darkness, they attacked with snarling rage.

He met them with righteous anger. The two leapt in unison. Alexander killed one with the Thinblade in midair. The second came for Anatoly. He crouched as he planted the butt of his axe in the dirt and aimed the top spike into the chest of the nether wolf. The creature sailed over him and crashed into the ground. Jataan darted in and cleaved its head from its body in a stroke.

The next hour was spent carefully moving the light of the night-wisp dust to allow just one of the nether wolves at a time to rematerialize in a spot flanked by soldiers waiting to cut it to pieces. Word of the battle rippled through the camp and a crowd gathered to watch Alexander and his men destroy the fearsome beasts, one by one.

They gasped when each materialized from thin air and cheered as each fell. When they’d killed the last of them, Alexander ordered his war council to assemble. It was still hours from dawn but he was angry and filled with deadly purpose. The enemy needed to die. They needed to die today.

He strode into the command tent and found it was full. His father and mother, Hanlon, Conner, Erik, Wizards Gamaliel, Sark, and Dax, Generals Markos and Brand all sat around the table. Two dozen commanders and a few other wizards sat in chairs around the walls of the tent.

He took his chair and waited for Anatoly, Jack, Wyatt, and Lucky to sit as well. Jataan remained standing just behind him while Boaberous had taken a position just outside the door. Chloe buzzed into a ball of light as she materialized from the aether. She stood on the table in front of Alexander and surveyed those in attendance as if assessing their worthiness before she sat down cross-legged in front of him. Her appearance quieted the room and drew everyone’s attention to Alexander.

“Northport dies today,” he said with anger still flashing in his golden eyes. “The necromancer within those walls called forth more than a dozen nether wolves and sent them into our midst in the night. Hundreds of our men are dead. Such attacks can’t break the strength of our army but they can weaken the morale and resolve of our soldiers.”

“I take it you’ve decided on a strategy then,” Duncan said.

Alexander nodded gravely. “Fire. We’re going to surround the city at a safe distance and burn it to the ground. None of the enemy will be spared. They are all guilty of treason against the Old Law and I sentence them to death.”

The room fell silent as the magnitude of Alexander’s pronouncement sank in.

“Speak your mind,” Alexander said. “If you’re in this room, then I value your counsel and I will not fault you for presenting your opinion.”

The silence lingered on for several moments until Duncan smiled grimly.

“Northport is an ancient city,” he said. “Must it be destroyed?”

Alexander understood the tone of his father’s question. He’d heard it countless times during his lessons when Duncan had wanted him to think more deeply on his answer, but this time his question was a prompt meant to give Alexander a reason to explain himself.

“I’ve heard every conceivable battle plan we can employ,” Alexander said. “Either we can cause some damage to the enemy with limited risk or we can destroy the enemy but lose half of our army—or more. Neither option is acceptable. The city is just buildings, stone and timber. It can be rebuilt. Our soldiers are flesh and blood. Their lives cannot be replaced.