Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron) (12 page)

"
Aye, Commander.  Kale and I grew up together and, though he balked at leaving my side, it is he I would send.  There are none better under my command, and he understands the importance of this mission."

"
Well then, Kale, gather your men while we see to the Avari and good luck to you."

Kale inclined his head to Commander Salic
.  "Aye, Commander."  Kale bowed to Bran.  "By your leave, Axethane."

Bran waved a dismissive hand to Kale.
  "I will meet with you and the men before you depart."

Kale turned on his heels and headed back into the pass.

"He seems displeased with his assignment," Salic commented.

"
He is displeased with me.  He feels I send him away to protect him," Bran said.

"
Is that what you are doing?"

"
Yes and no.  The mission is a critical one, and I trust Kale as no other, but any of my men could carry it out.  I promised his wife I would watch after him.  This mission satisfies both objectives.  He sees it as sending him out of harm’s way and resents it."

"
Would it not be easier to send another?"  Salic inquired.

"
Aye, but as a Commander, you know it is the men’s duty to obey orders, not question them.  If one can accomplish two objectives with a single order, then is it not wise to give that order?"  Bran stated.

"
Aye, it often is.  I do not question your orders, Axethane.  You know what is best for your men; but think on this.  If a command is to cause dissent, then is it not better to amend that command to preserve order?"

Bran eyed Salic out of the corner of his eyes
.  "Point taken, Commander."  Bran sighed and slumped a little.  "I nearly lost him, you know.  If it hadn’t been for Dain, Kale would no longer be among us.  I find it increasingly difficult to send him into battle.  Though this mission may cost me his friendship, it is a small price to pay if it keeps him alive.  I can handle him hating me for the rest of his life.  What I cannot abide is having him honor me to an early grave."

They both fell silent as they continued to the Avari camp.

Chapter Twelve

Mael lounged in the chair before Mortow’s desk, his gaze unwaveringly locked
onto Mortow’s ice blue eyes.

"
The Avari Lord was not pleased in the slightest," Mael said with a crooked smile.

"
How do you read his reaction?  Will he withdraw?"  Mortow asked breaking his gaze away from Mael’s to look up at the ceiling.

"
He is a hard one to read, but I feel that your message was not lost on him.  I think he will first try to rescue his man before giving in.  It may be prudent to increase his guard."

Mortow chuckled
.  "There is no way for him to enter these premises.  He is barred from Gratton like the rest of them."

"
Aye, he is barred, but you cannot bar every Avari from entry.  That requires knowing to whom access should be denied.  It would not surprise me if such is his intent.  With the armies marching forth tomorrow, the prisoner will be more accessible."

Mortow frowned
.  "Perhaps you are right.  We may need to increase the guard around him.  I will leave a squad of trolls behind.  That should be sufficient."

"
Master, have you ever seen the Avari fight?"  Mael asked.

"
No, but I know they are formidable.  What's your point?"

"
The Avari are fearless in combat.  A mere group of ten could decimate an entire squad of trolls.  They are that good.  The only thing they do fear is magic.  Perhaps you should leave one of the others behind, perhaps Megan.  She was wounded.  It would give her more time to heal, and she could certainly hold off a few Avari."

"
No. Megan is needed elsewhere, as is Maklin.  That would only leave you, and I doubt you would relish being out of the…fun."

"
No, I do not wish to be left behind, but if one has to stay, it should be the one you need least.  I will do as you wish, as always."

Mortow nodded.
  "There is nothing to say you cannot join us after the fact, that is, if the scenario you paint turns out to be real.  I think that would be best after all.  I do not like the idea of leaving Gratton totally devoid of wizards.  I do, however, expect you to keep me apprised of anything unusual that transpires."

"
Of course, Master," Mael replied heavily.

"
Very well, then.  We leave at first light tomorrow.  Meet me in the courtyard at that time.  If I have any further orders, I will inform you of them then."

"
As you wish, Master," Mael said rising to his feet.  "If there is nothing more, I will begin transporting Dascus and his men."

"
Reiterate my wish that Rydon and the elders be returned here alive.  Get them as close as possible, and then leave them to it.  This treat will help bind the Weres more firmly to me.  Inform me in the field when Rydon has been delivered to Gratton."

Mael bowed, spoke the words of transport and vanished from the room.

Mortow folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair.  The prospect of the coming war brought a slight smile to his lips.  "Soon now, soon it will be decided.  The races of Thelona will be brought to bear, and the wars will cease.  Soon, I will rule all of them."

Mortow turned his chair around to the new marble basin the trolls had carved for him.  He gazed at the mirror smooth surface of the liquid within and said,
"
Ostendo
." 

The reflective liquid
turned black then opened on a scene of pure fury.  He saw Maklin, his face twisted with a grin, hurling great globes of fire into the ranks of dwarves.  Charred body pieces were scattered over a wide area.  The ogres were in their element as well.  There were several lying slain, but most were up and engaged with the dwarves in close combat. Their massive hammers and giant swords were scything a bloody swath through the ranks of their smaller enemies.  Portions of the city in the background were ablaze and lightning was striking building after building, reducing the stone dwellings to rubble.  Megan was doing her job well.  With the majority of the dwarven warriors engaged with the ogres, the citizens of the city were naked before her magic.

Mortow had studied the dwarven realm for a long time
, scouting to find a place of seclusion where the ogres could be transported in groups.  A place large enough to hold the kind of numbers he would need to accomplish his goal, but not so far out of the way as to pose a strategic problem.  He had found such a place right off the shores of Delven Lake, less than a league from the city itself.  Mortow himself had taken large groups of ogres to this place, aiding Maklin and Megan in the transport.  Once he had two thousand settled there, he ordered them to attack.

The attack had com
menced in the early morning hours when most were still asleep.  He knew the dwarven guard would see them coming but, by that time, it would be too late.  The best of the dwarven warriors would be guarding the pass and the East and West Gates.  They would still have nearly three thousand Forgers and close to the same number of Delvers.  With the ogres outnumbered three to one, Megan and Maklin would be needed if his plan was to succeed.

The dwarves had to be eliminated
because from them came the majority of the healers.  If Mortow was to have a chance, he needed to make sure that every enemy he put down stayed down.  Granted, the elves had healers among them, but they were few and probably still within the borders of Trelom.  Dascus and his clan would take care of them.  No, the dwarven Delvers were the real problem. 

Naturally,
all of the squads stationed in the pass and at the gates would have their own healers. If Mortow could foreclose any chance of replenishment from the city, well then, battle healers had as short a life span as the warriors around them.  Before the sun rose on another day, the dwarves would be decimated in their ranks.  Mortow would stop short of genocide.  Dwarven healers may be a problem for him in the war, but they had their uses in everyday life.  Once he had control of Thelona, Mortow would have control of them as well.

Mortow shifted his focus and the liquid again
became black.  It cleared slowly as several ships began to take shape in its depths.  Slowly, the scene resolved to a gently rolling ocean with ten ships all headed in the same direction.  None of the ships bore any kind of standard, and all of the crews appeared to be normal sailors.  The only marked differences were that they traveled together on the same heading and that their size was of the largest sailing vessels ever seen on the Thelonian oceans.

In truth, most of the Weres under Mortow’s command manned these ships.  They would beach southwest of Kantwell and hit Branna from behind. 
In four days, they would make land.  With the trolls and remaining ogres hitting Branna from the east, Mortow would smite the men of Branna between his forces.

With Micah’s man
from the other world safely confined in Gratton, the Avari would not be an issue, unless the Avari Lord decided that the life of his man was not worth as much as Mortow had bargained.  No matter; the Garoliths would be able to handle the Avari.  Avari swords would be useless against them.  Merric, however, was another story.

"
I know I am stronger than he, both physically and magically, but the man is damnably devious.  I was sure I had him when we fought before, and he still nearly killed me.  This time it will be different.  Then, I was only an eighth key.  Now, I have surpassed him.  This time, father, no little trick is going to save you."

Michael
, on the other hand, represented more of an unknown than the Avari Lord.  The boy had surprising abilities and even more unsettling was his magical strength.  If half of what Mieka had told him was true, then Mortow was truly impressed.  He would have to tread carefully where Michael was concerned.

"
I am going to have to come up with a way to separate him from everyone else.  Once he's alone, with Maklin, Megan and Mieka beside me, not to mention a few of the Garoliths, it should be over before he knows what hit him.  It will be such a shame to have to kill him.  There is much I could learn from him," Mortow pondered.  "No matter, somewhere the knowledge contained within him is recorded.  It just needs finding. Once I have settled everything else, I will seek it out."

With many things yet to do before leaving Gratton on the morrow, Mortow loosed his concentration on the basin and rose from his
chair.  He needed to check in on his new guest.  Mortow spoke the words of transport and materialized in a spacious living area. 

The room was about twenty f
eet in length and almost thirty in width.  There was a large fireplace on the wall Mortow was facing with a nice fire burning.  Behind him was a door, barred from the outside, leading out into Gratton proper.  A large blue, green, and black area rug occupied the floor in the immediate vicinity of the hearth with a medium sized square table and four high backed utilitarian chairs around it.  Arranged around this table were a russet colored couch and two matching overstuffed chairs.  Being an interior room, there were no windows.  Another door, in the middle of the right hand wall, led to the bedroom.

Even though Mortow had come unannounced into the room, neither occupant stirred.  The blond
e haired man seated at the table continued to rest his head in his hands, elbows braced on the table.  His clothes were still in disarray and torn from his struggles with the Weres.  His guard, a large man with white hair and wearing only a white loin cloth, stood at the far left wall.  Even though his hair was white, he seemed to be only about thirty years old.  He was lean and well-muscled with piercing green eyes that remained fixed on the room’s other occupant.

Mortow looked to the white haired man
.  "Would you excuse us for a time, Rein?  I would like to have a chat with our guest."

Rein turned his gaze to Mortow and bowed his head in acknowledgement.  He then walked across the room and entered the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Mortow walked over to the table and stood opposite the blonde man.  "Mind if I join you?"  Mortow asked, his deep voice held in check at a pleasant level.

The blond
e man finally raised his head and looked at Mortow.  "As I am your prisoner, I have no say in what you do," The blonde man said sullenly, raising himself to sit straight-backed in the chair.

Mortow pulled the chair out and seated himself across from the blond
e man, noticing the bruising on the man’s face.  "I regret that your invitation had to be executed with force, but look around you.  This is hardly a dungeon cell.  Though you are an unwilling guest, there is no reason for you to be uncomfortable.  Rein and his brethren have orders to provide for your every need."

"
Despite your pleasant attitude, Sir, I know damn well why I'm here.  No matter how pleasing the surroundings, this is still a prison cell; and your men, no matter how cordial, are still jailors."

Mortow gave a little shrug.
  "I had hoped to lessen your confinement with luxury.  Be at ease.  You are in no danger here.  If such had been my intention, we would not, now, be having this conversation.  Let us begin this at the beginning like civilized men, shall we?  I am Mortow, Headmaster of Gratton."

"
I know who you are even though I have never laid eyes upon you.  The black robes, the stature and the eyes; you could be no other."

"
I am pleased that you have knowledge of me, but I fear that knowledge is one sided.  As in any tale, there is always another side."

"
The side I know is the only one that matters to me.  I have known Uncle Micah all my life.  I am inclined to believe his side of things."

"
Uncle?  Come now, how could you possibly be a blood relative of the Avari Lord?"

"
I am not.  Uncle Micah took me in as an infant and raised me after my parents were killed.  Uncle is simply a title of respect."

"
I see.  Since you know who I am, it only seems fair that I should know your name as well."

"
You obviously know more about me than I do about you or I would not be here."

"
True.  I know a bit about you, but I do not know your name."

"
Very well; I am Joshua."

"
There, you see, that wasn’t so hard.  Well, Joshua, the wizard who brought you here said that your house was full of wondrous paintings.  Am I to assume then that you are an artist?"

"
Assume what you like.  It has a tendency to make asses of those who try."

Mortow raised an eyebrow and looked quizzically at Joshua.

Joshua chuckled slightly.  "It is a saying from my world."

"
I inquire so as to help ease the tedium of your confinement.  If you are a painter, I could have supplies brought up to you.  There is no telling how long you will be required to remain here.  Having a distraction may be helpful.  I do not wish your stay to be more unpleasant than need be."

"
The unpleasantness is with the situation, not the surroundings.  Of course they are a bit more Spartan than that to which I am accustomed.  I have always wanted to see this world, and now that I am finally here, all I can see are the stone walls of this room," Joshua said gesturing around the room.