Serpentlord (Rise To Omniscience Book 9), page 17
“They’re not being softened up though, are they?” he yelled, stomping over to his chair and kicking it into a wall. “From all reports, their force consists of only around a thousand soldiers, while the rest are far behind, marching this way! By the time they reach us, they’ll be fit, well-rested and prepared for battle.
“Contrary to what we’ve been told, they still appear to have plenty of provisions and they’ve easily been able to predict where our harrying force will come from. So, does anyone have any good suggestions!?”
He glared around the room, daring anyone to speak up. When no one did, he debated melting the lot of them into a puddle of goo. It wouldn’t really accomplish anything, but it might make him feel better.
“Your majesty,” Luriel said, stepping forward cautiously.
“What?” Shedra snapped. “Any other false information you have to give me!?”
Luriel winced, her hand flashing up to her face, where an angry, red burn marred her otherwise clear skin. Shedra had not been happy that the spy had been caught, and that as a result of her discovery, they’d been fed false information. Honestly, she was lucky to be alive.
“Perhaps,” Luriel said, doing her best to keep her voice steady, “we can try and mount a counter-assault?”
“Oh, really?” Shedra asked, his voice dripping with scorn. “And how do you propose we do this, oh wise creature of the stone age?”
Luriel’s cheeks flushed at the insult. To a gnome, a race who considered themselves advanced and scholarly, being compared to a savage was extremely insulting. Despite that, she plowed on, not daring to allow her anger to show.
“We’re losing right now, for a simple reason,” Luriel said. “They’ve got us on the back foot. They’re advancing quickly, taking territory and wiping out our forces. We both know that if just a few more troll cities fall, they will surrender and may even defect. I say we mount a counter-offense here.”
She pointed down to the map spread before them, to a city that was well known to all in attendance.
“Tark Swamp-City,” Shedra said flatly. “You want to mount an attack in the single-most crowded city in the entire Bayou? Have you lost your mind?”
“I was unaware that you cared for the lives of civilians,” Luriel said. “Your majesty,” she quickly added.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about those filthy trolls,” Shedra said, waving his hand. “But with how mobile the enemy is, they’ll be at a serious advantage in a place that crowded while those moronic trolls bumble into one another.”
“Send sappers,” Luriel said simply.
Shedra straightened, finally paying attention.
“Since you don’t care about the lives of the trolls, open portals in these locations,” Luriel said, pointing to several places on the map. “With their destructive power, they’ll be able to cause a massive amount of damage. With the enemy force all but wiped out, we can gather our own defenses, recalling whatever trolls remain to our borders.
“At the same time, we send a group of sappers here,” Luriel continued, pointing to the projected route of the enemy force. “We hide them in several groups of attacking raiders and set them off where they can do the most damage. With this single strike, we should severely impact the ability to travel, though if we time it right, we’ll be able to inflict some serious casualties as well.”
“How many will we need for an operation like this?” Shedra asked, stroking his chin.
“All of them,” Luriel replied.
Shedra’s nose wrinkled as he thought about it. Sappers were a very special group of cultists, those who had surrendered themselves so fully to Strangler’s cause that they’d accepted an extremely risky procedure. It took months to make a single sapper, and their survival rate was perhaps one in fifty.
Their basic function was that of a bomb. They would run into an area and set off the implanted explosive, rupturing their own cores in the process and causing a massive explosion. In other words, they were a one-time-use attack, and then they would be gone.
They currently had seventy-one sappers, and he’d been hoping to save them for the final battle to deal a massive blow to the enemy when they were least expecting it. If they used all of them now, that would be it months before they could make more, and by that point, the war would most likely be over, one way or another.
Shedra debated for a few more minutes before finally letting out a grunt of annoyance.
“Fine,” he said. “We’ll use the sappers. But, if your plan doesn’t work, Luriel, I’ll be turning you into one.”
Luriel paled at that as she knew what it would mean. The procedure alone was excruciating and the subject needed to be awake for the entire thing. Additionally, there was a horrible survival rate. But she’d already opened her mouth. There was no taking back what had already been said, so she just had to hope their plan would succeed, or she was as good as dead.
25
Grace sat, hunched in her cage, as she watched the guards switch out.
Forty again, she thought, starting the mental count in her mind once more.
She’d been keeping careful watch of the guard rotation over the last few days – there wasn’t much else to really be done here – and had noticed that they swapped out every forty hours. It was a ridiculous amount of time to leave guards in one place, and even if they were strong enough to handle it, they were extremely restless by the time their watch change came.
Several hundred more elves, dwarves, and beastmen had been marched down in the last week or so, though the number of new gnomes and trolls wasn’t to be sneezed at. As the place filled with more and more people, the guards had to work harder to keep them all in line.
By this point, Grace had seen each and every guard and figured that there were no more than thirty in all. Of course, she had her own personal set of guards, but even they grew weary when their shifts were nearing their ends.
Apparently, Shedra didn’t think it important enough to send more guards here, which may very well be their salvation.
“Hey, gnome,” Grace said, calling to the sleeping gnome in a hushed whisper.
“Leave me alone,” the gnome said, answering as he always did.
“Stop being such a grouch and answer my question. I promise I’ll leave you alone after that.”
The gnome cracked a bloodshot eye, fixing her with a glare.
“That’s what you said last time, and yet, here you are, still bothering me.”
“That was yesterday,” Grace said, not at all apologetic. “It doesn’t count.”
There was a loud sniff, and she half-turned, seeing one of the trolls shuffling as he tried to get comfortable. The gnome who’d come to guard her cage wasn’t even bothering with any pretense. He’s slumped right into a chair and had fallen into a dozing sleep. He would wake up if she made too much noise, but so long as she was careful, she could talk to the gnome without being overheard.
“Fine,” the gnome said. “Ask your damned question.”
Grace smiled at him, but the gnome didn’t return the gesture.
It was probably her greasy hair that was causing this reaction. If there was one thing that made her furious about her incarceration, it was that she wasn’t given anything with which to wash, forcing her to use what little drinking water she could spare to rinse her hair. Since she didn’t have any soap, however, it didn’t really do much.
It was knotted and tangled, and her roots were beginning to show. The blue streaks in her hair were traveling further down than she’d have liked – or so she imagined, as she didn’t have a mirror. Regardless, she imagined she looked atrocious, which was why this gnome was being so grouchy.
“Can you fight?” Grace asked, still keeping her smile on her face.
“No,” the gnome said, then turned over and pulled the rags that served as his clothes over his head.
“Then why are you being kept locked up here with me?” she asked.
“You said one question,” the gnome replied. “Now shut up, or I’ll start screaming for the guards.”
From experience, Grace knew that none of them reacted well when they were disturbed from their loafing – especially the gnomes who guarded her. Having no choice, she shut her mouth and sat back, the silent clock continuing to count down in her mind.
There had to be a way for her to get herself out of this. Every day that passed, risked a greater chance that Strangler would finally come for her, and if there was one thing that terrified her, it was the idea of being devoured by that massive serpent.
There was also the fact that all these people were basically here to be killed. All these poor, innocent people who couldn’t even defend themselves. They were so helpless that they could be kept in by a group of just fifteen guards – while there were thirty in total, they switched off in shifts of forty hours.
Grace’s gaze flicked over to where the gnome and troll pens were located. They seemed like her best option at the moment. Some of them, she could read with her Aura Sense, but others, she could not, which signified that they were strong. However, her current predicament prevented her from being able to speak with them.
She’d been hoping that she could get something out of the gnome, but even after all her time here – nearing two weeks now – she hadn’t been able to get more than a sentence or two out of him per day. She knew he was strong, as she couldn’t read his status with her skill, so right now, he was her only hope.
That was why, despite the constant rejection, she continued trying to rouse him each and every day.
Grace let out a sigh as she leaned back against the bars, staring up to the cracked ceiling and the small patch of sky visible on the other side. She missed her friends desperately and silently prayed every day that they would show up. By this point, that hope was starting to wane as despair began to creep in.
She gave herself another mental shake, trying to force the negative thoughts from her mind.
A busy mind is a happy mind, she told herself.
Reaching up to her hair, she felt at the oily strands. The way it was now, it looked horrendous, but maybe if she put it into a braid like Sarah’s, it might look a bit better. Of course, her hair wasn’t nearly as long, so it wouldn’t look as good. But it would give her something to do to pass the time and make her poor hair look just a little better in the process.
She had no mirror, so it would be far from perfect, but as Grace started working, pulling her hair into separate bunches, she found herself beginning to relax and her troubled mind easing. Working on her hair always made her feel better, and this time was no exception.
***
Elyssa marched alongside Gilderon, her feet drumming the ground in quick steps, in time with the double-march. She’d have liked to be at the forefront of their armies, but Gilderon had expressly forbidden it, saying that as their commander, she needed to remain where it was safe. Losing a few soldiers in an ambush wouldn’t be nearly as damaging as losing her.
Despite knowing he was right, she couldn’t help but be annoyed with him about it. She didn’t want to look weak, nor did she want others to have to sacrifice themselves so that she could be more comfortable.
She was stronger than 99.9 percent of their forces. She could handle punishment. Unfortunately for her ego, all the other rulers, Ragnar included, agreed with Gilderon. Him, she might be able to fight, but when everyone ganged up on her, she had no choice but to cave in to their demands.
She was still sulking when Ragnar appeared at her side, stepping easily through the crowd, despite his bulk.
“We have some unusual activity on our flanks, as well as our rear,” the dwarven king said. “Cultists are pouring through portals by the dozen and throwing themselves recklessly at our defenders.”
“So?” Gilderon said. “Cultists throwing away their lives is nothing new.”
“They’re usually quite reckless, but never this careless with their own lives,” Ragnar said. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Do you think we should halt our advance until the attack is over?” Elyssa asked, biting her bottom lip.
“That would be my recommendation,” Ragnar replied. “Until we’ve wiped out the attacking forces, I think our best option is to stay put.”
Elyssa turned to Gilderon and nodded.
“Give the order,” she said. “Also, call Malachi in if you can. I want to double our scouts. Oh, and bring me a map,” she said as Gilderon was about to leave.
Something was definitely up; Ragnar was right about that. The air felt charged somehow. There was no tangible evidence that something was wrong, but she trusted her instincts, and they were telling her to err on the side of caution right now.
“As you wish, ma’am,” Gilderon said, giving her a salute.
He and Ragnar left, leaving her alone with her honor guard. She could hear shouts going through the army, orders to stop. Reaching into the neck of her armor, she fished out the pendant Katherine had given her. She flicked a small switch on the side and waited for the Queen of the North to answer.
“Elyssa?” Katherine’s voice asked, sounding clearly in her mind. “We’re getting ready to launch our next attack. Can whatever it is wait?”
Elyssa pondered that question for a few seconds before answering.
“Something isn’t right here. We’re pausing our troop movement and assessing the situation. Something big might be happening. At the same time, it could be nothing at all. Pass the message on to Morgan. Tell him to be careful and stay vigilant for any traps. The enemy might be planning something we’re unaware of.”
There was a pause at the other end as she released the switch.
“Should we call off the attack?” Katherine asked.
“No,” Elyssa said after a few moments. “Proceed with the attack. But be careful. I know Shedra. We haven’t seen any major pushback from them so far, and although I have no evidence to suggest he might try something now, I have a bad feeling.”
“We’ll stay alert,” Katherine replied. “I’ll contact you if anything happens.”
Katherine went silent then, and after a few more seconds, when nothing more was forthcoming, Elyssa tucked the pendant back into her armor.
Gilderon came jogging back at that moment, a rolled-up map tucked beneath his arm. A couple of soldiers followed in his wake, carrying a small table, and several of their commanders pushed through the crowd to their location.
Elyssa waited patiently as the map was set up, and her commanders gathered around.
“As the situation stands, right now, there’s an unknown threat,” she said, addressing the crowd as she leaned over the map and scanned the landscape as well as their current trajectory. “We’re engaging several groups of cultists on our flanks and rear,” she continued. “King Ragnar believes that they’re behaving more irrationally than normal, which is saying a lot. So, right now, we’re assessing the situation to see what we might be missing…”
Elyssa trailed off as her eyes alighted on a small mark on the map, one that their troops would reach within the next hour if they kept their current pace. Her brows furrowed for a moment as she tried to think through the jumbled mix of thoughts in her mind.
“Silica Gorge,” she said, looking up from the map. “How many scouts do we have in that location now?”
One of Malachi’s two remaining wives, Malia, stepped forward. She would speak for her husband when he was otherwise engaged.
“We have fifteen at the moment,” she replied.
“Send another twenty,” Elyssa said. “I want that gorge swept from top to bottom. Tell them not to leave a single stone unturned and to report even the most unimportant details. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Malia said, running off to follow her orders.
“Is there anything specific you think they’ll find?” Gilderon asked as Elyssa leaned over the map again.
“I don’t know,” she replied distractedly.
This was just another hunch. If it came to nothing, then they’d just wasted two or three good hours of marching. But if she were right and something was wrong, then she could potentially prevent massive loss of life.
In her position, she needed to weigh risk versus reward, and losing a couple of hours’ march over the chance of an ambush was well worth it, in her opinion.
26
Morgan sat with his legs folded up beneath him, watching Sarah pull in the massive core of red and blue energy he’d collected for her. In the last battle, Morgan had been careful to gather the energy from those he’d killed, instead of letting his body passively absorb it. Sarah was growing stronger, having reached rank 66 just a couple of days back, but going into a big fight like this one, he wanted to make sure she was as prepared as could be.
He looked up, brows furrowing, as a red-edged portal opened just a few feet away, and Katherine stepped through.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, preparing to get up and go with her, but Katherine motioned for him to relax.
“I just got a communication from Elyssa,” Katherine said in the way of an explanation. “She’s halted her own forces and sent a warning. She thinks something might be wrong and told me to stay alert.”
Morgan nodded, wondering what could have gotten Elyssa to stop the entire military in their tracks.
“Are we still going forward with the attack as planned?” he asked.
Katherine nodded.
“You’ll hear the signal in the next few minutes. Just…keep an eye open. Elyssa sounded worried.”
Morgan nodded again as she turned and stepped through a conjured portal. His eyes flicked back to Sarah, who was shuddering lightly as her body went through yet another rank up. The amount of energy needed at their level was astounding, but killing thousands and harnessing their energy was a good way to gain strength quickly.
