Silent Requiem (Tales of Ashkar Book 3) Page 8

  Up ahead, on the still turbulent waters off the coast, sped along Liberty's flagship. It was unscathed despite the devastation around it, and it was still at the forefront leading the charge. Together Graeme and Wu had taken out hundreds of ships, but that had just been the first wave. On the horizon loomed what seemed like thousands upon thousands of ships, and while their devastating attack had thinned out a significant amount of Liberty’s forces, it was nothing compared to the rest of the fleet.

  The rest of Arcadia's defenses followed suit with the commencement of battle, and elemental attacks of all kinds flew across the air toward the incoming vessels. Likewise, the siege weapons manned by their non-elementalist forces also fired as fast as they could. Shockwaves filled the air, the silence of serenity nowhere to be found.

  Likewise, Liberty's forces fired back just as hard. Elemental attacks of all sorts assaulted the beach, and some of Graeme's senior elementalists moved to provide defenses in the form of barriers of stone and walls of ice.

  “Shall we try again?” continued Wu, no doubt speaking of Liberty himself.

  Graeme reached into his garment for a flask, twisted it open, and took a long swig of the refreshing water. He then handed it to Wu, who gladly obliged. The Grand Arcanist took a moment to answer, first perusing the battlefield below and then setting his sights on Liberty's flagship once more. “If Guy was unable to strike him down, then I'm unsure if we can produce a different outcome.”

  Wu wiped his mouth with his arm, handed the flask back to Graeme, and then stroked his beard lightly in pensive thought. “While the attack was staved off, it might have weakened him. He might have had to use most of his energy.”

  “I'm not so sure,” replied Graeme, but he readied himself regardless. “I suppose that it's worth a shot. If this doesn't work then we focus on the other ships until we have to fall back.

  Wu nodded in agreement, and reached for the moldable essence that waited for him. “Lightning this time?”

  “Lightning,” repeated Graeme, and he tapped the ring on his thumb with the one on his left ring finger. They concentrated their minds together to a cloud that was drifting by in front of Liberty's flagship. Graeme felt a surge of weakness in his head as he channeled the energy. The electric impulses in his brain continued to fire, and a rumble rolled through the air as several bolts of lightning struck repeatedly at the passing ship.

  The weakness caused Graeme to withdraw and close his eyes. Continuously channeling lightning taxed the central nervous system of the brain, and it was a dangerous game to play when it came to overloading it. With usage came fatigue, and since the central nervous system was responsible for many of the body's autonomic functions, it was wise not to extend too far.

  Once he caught his bearings, Graeme reopened his eyes and immediately looked to where Liberty's wreckage would be if he had been struck down by their attack. He sighed, though he was not particularly surprised that the ship continued its indomitable charge. Most of the other fleet had also reached close enough to counterattack, and it was becoming obvious that the beach's defenses would not hold for much longer. Bodies littered the beach, most of the mortars were either overturned or blown apart outright, and the sandy shores now appeared more like a desolate wasteland filled with craters.

  A horn blew from down below, and Graeme looked to where the sound came from. One of the officers was signaling the retreat, and alongside him was Guy loosing windy arrow after arrow. Like before, entire ships were torn apart, but even he was backing up between every shot that he took. He also shouted at the other men and women to start moving back. They would need to fall back without breaking formations, and they would not leave behind anyone. That was the Arcadian way.

  Graeme joined in, ensuring that his men and women would be able to escape. He tapped the ring on his thumb with the one on his left middle finger, and joined in with the others in generating an icy shield that repelled the incoming fire from the ships. While it was able to block many of the attacks, the barrage was simply too much and portions of it were shattered as it was struck by blast after blast.

  “How will we deal with him?” asked Wu, his mind always on thoughts that drifted far from Graeme's. Where the Grand Arcanist's was focused on the retreat, Wu was always thinking in offensive terms. Perhaps that was why they made such an effective duo.

  “We will devise a strategy, after we get everyone out and back at the main front,” asserted Graeme. “For now, assist me in our defenses.” He didn't mean to sound so commanding, for each looked upon the other with the utmost respect. They were on the same level, they understood that well. It was simply a matter of urgency, and Graeme was not going to let Liberty take any more than he could from Arcadia.

  “Of course,” returned Wu quickly, and opted to generate some cover fire for the retreating troops.

  By now, most of the soldiers had already made their way up to the inner hills where their mounts were waiting. Like Graeme and Wu, they provided much needed help to those straggling behind. Some carried the wounded, others did their best to carry entire bodies. Regrettably, Graeme noticed a few lifeless corpses on the bloody sands that could not be accounted for during the retreat. At the very least, he hoped that Liberty had the spirit to send them off properly whether or not they were men of faith. If not, then Graeme was sure to come back for them.

  Like the bodies strewn about the shore, so too were the fortifications and siege weaponry. The ones that had not been completely torn apart by the onslaught had been destroyed by the retreating forces themselves. The fortifications were not too important, but leaving tools and ammunition that could siege Arcadia’s walls would not be helpful. Everything and anything would be done to ensure that Liberty did not gain any more of an advantage than he already had.

  “Let's go, Wu,” said Graeme as he looked over to his friend.

  Wu nodded, though his eyes were still fixed on the approaching fleet. His gaze lingered for a few moments, then shifted to the Grand Arcanist and, together, they turned around and made their way to their steeds.

  Another horn sounded, and Graeme hurriedly mounted his horse. He tugged on the reins so that the animal turned to face the beach. “One last one, Wu.” Graeme tapped his right thumb with his left index finger, and eyed the ground a dozen feet before him.

  Understanding the gesture, Wu took a larger portion of his moldable power and focused on it until it turned an earthy brown, then tossed it into the air. In unison, the ground shook and trembled until it split into a deep fissure up-and-down the coast as far as the eye could see. If Liberty sought to move most of his army through here, then his earth elementalists would soon lament their existence.

  Graeme felt a dull pain in his bones, and knew that it was time to stop. “That should halt their movements a bit.” He looked over to Wu, and received a sheepish smile.

  “I thought that you specifically said not to overextend before the real battle?” asked the Grand Master Magus, who more than likely felt the weakness in his bones as well. Being on the other side of youth didn't quite help the two of them, either.

  The real battle…

  Graeme gently tugged again on his mount, directing it to the west.

  Too many have died already.

  _ _ _

  Vanessa had finally made it.

  She was finally in Corsair Cove. It had been a long swim, from the Isle of Undeath all the way here. It must have been months since she had left that accursed place, and it had taken her much longer than she had anticipated due to the fact that she did not have a source of blood to sustain her transformation for flight.

  And so, this was the first time in decades that she had been away from that island. She had been confined there for years not by force, but rather by choice. It had been just despair at first. The despair that came when everything was stripped from you. The last thing that she thought someone could ever strip away from her was her life. It was a shocking revelation when she discovered that it was actually her death that h
ad been taken from her. Up until now she had regretted that fact.

  That despair had given way to indifference. Indifference to her fate. The indifference to act even though the only thing that bound her had been her will. It was a numbness that she once thought was death's smile. It was much worse than what death would have brought her. She had languished under that indifference for far too long, but now she knew that Kalic was out there waiting for her.

  How long has it been, Kalic? I thought I had lost thou, and yet thou hath been searching this whole time…

  It was the hours of twilight by the time that she reached the notorious coastal city. She swam up to a collection of rocks that were jutting up on the southern point just off the shore. Several ships were anchored or tethered to the docks, bobbing and weaving as the waves rolled through. Pushing off one of the rocks with her legs, she swam around some of the boats and underneath others, wary of any wandering eyes.

  It wasn't long before Vanessa was at the end of one of the long docks that jutted out onto sea. She followed underneath it until she was at the end of the dock, and she placed her hands onto the sandy shore and slowly crawled onto land.

  Wood groaned above her as footsteps made their way toward the city—presumably for a hard drink and night of forgetfulness. Carefully, Vanessa moved toward the end of the platform where wood gave way to ground and jagged rocks. She climbed up, raising herself just enough so that she could peek at the vast dock. It was mostly empty except for a few people bumbling about and participating in shady activities.

  To her left were the high cliffs that the city was built against. Even from here she could hear the clamor of Corsair Cove's less-than-classy taverns as the seas' vagabonds released their woes upon themselves and each other. While the waters had been calm, Corsair Cove didn't seem to have much room for it.

  With unnatural speed, Vanessa swung herself over onto the top of the dock and rolled onto the first set of crates that she could find for cover. She slid to the edge and took a gander. No one had been alarmed, and the air remained still. Perhaps she was being too careful, but she didn't really know. She had been stuck on that island for too long. For all she knew, dragons could have taken over the world.

  Vanessa returned to her crouched position and then looked to her right. Not too far away was a ramp that led to the upper levels of the city. She looked around one last time, and finding nobody but the moon gazing at her, dashed for the ramp. Her strides were long and concise, and it wasn't long before she made it up.

  The ramp continued to ascend dozens of feet, and by now she was surrounded by sets of wooden buildings that ranged from taverns, shops, or homes. The taverns were easy to spot, and she made her way toward one. She started from the back and slid her way to the left side toward its entrance.

  Vanessa stopped to listen. Drunken laughter, obscenities, and the clinking of glass on hardwood filled her ears. She leaned over, her eyes drifting toward the front door—

  It swung open. She jerked away and placed her back against the side of the structure. Her eyes shifted down to the wooden planks to her right, watching carefully the shadows that were cast by dangling lamps.

  “That was too…” said a voice, though it trailed off without finishing.

  “What?” said a second man, and he held the 'a' just like the mind poisoned by alcohol would.

  “I think—ugh hold on,” continued the first one, and through the swaying shadows Vanessa noticed the man placing a hand on his forehead. “Cap'n's gonna be… mad about all o' the drinkin'“

  The other figure belched rather noisily. “We… we got a long trip to Arcadia. Cap'n won't mi—” one shadow caught the other before the drunk could collapse onto the ground.

  “Get yer act together, Buck,” said the first man.

  The drunken stupor ceased as the two shadows separated and moved in different directions. One came Vanessa's way, and she slipped further into the shadows. Warily, she watched as the drunk's form came into view and stopped.

  She tensed, ready to jump into action if need be.

  The man's gaze held in front of him for a few moments. He swayed slightly, placed a hand against the corner of the tavern for support, then turned away from Vanessa and bumbled down one of the ramps.

  As his form disappeared, Vanessa quickly moved toward the front again and peeked to the right. The other seafarer slowly trudged down the wooden platform away from her. She listened for a moment for any groaning of wood that would indicate another soul heading for the door, then quietly stalked the drunken man.

  So slow was he that she caught up in a flash, and waiting for the perfect moment, Vanessa grabbed ahold of him from behind and dragged him behind one of the structures where light did not follow. With one hand she covered his mouth, and the only sound he could muster were muffled grunts as he tried his best to jerk away. He failed miserably.

  Vanessa's other hand gripped his left wrist tightly behind his back, and she took her time to let his futile resistance wither into hopelessness and surrender. It did not take him too long despite his slow mind. “Make a loud noise and I shall have thou make a louder one that will have thine forefathers weeping. When doth thine ship sail for Arcadia?” Slowly, Vanessa removed her hand from his mouth.

  The man growled at her. “You witc—”

  Vanessa once again sealed his mouth shut with her hand, then moved her mouth close to his neck and bared her fangs. “Doth thou wish to become a vampire? I can make it so.”

  The man froze, finally realizing why he had so much trouble breaking free from her grasp. Finally, Vanessa felt his soul being filled with fear. He appeared to sober up instantly.

  She removed her hand again, though continued to hover her mouth over his exposed flesh. “Shall I ask again?”

  “We sail on the morrow,” answered the swashbuckler. “Cap'n's orders.”

  “Then thou will make sure that I am on that ship when it leaves port,” Vanessa asserted.

  _ _ _

  Kalic slowly made his way across the Bellford Plains. He wasn't in a rush. There was nowhere for him to be except right where he stood. He was far removed from the main forces of Arcadia, who had set up further south at Fort Bellford.

  Fortifications had been bolstered there. Tents filled with food and other provisions were already set up both inside and outside the fort ready for the decisive battle. Officers of rank strategized, soldiers trained, blades were sharpened, and armor maintained. Medicine men and women were at the ready to treat the wounded and the dying. Both would be in surplus soon.

  Satisfied with his position, Kalic looked around for a suitable tree to rest under until the blades started speaking. He noticed several trees with thick barks and verdant branches, but his eyes lingered on one that was relatively isolated from the rest. As he walked up to it, he reached out and felt its bark. It was brittle, the outer layer flaking off as Kalic ran his plated fingers across it. The tree was paler in color. Its branches were not supple like the rest, and even its own leaves betrayed it. It no longer bore any fruit.

  Kalic stood there for a moment in silence, then set down his sheathed blade and shield and nestled himself against the base of the tree.

  Chapter 7

  217th Dawn of the 5010th Age of Lion

  Cad stood inside the fortified chamber at Fort Bellford designated as Arcadia's command center for the coming stand. It was much like the one in his sector where the leaders of Arcadia had gathered nearly every day in the recent week, except where that one was atop a fortified tower of stone and filled with many of Cad's collections, this one was barer and did not reach the sky as high.

  Opposite the Avanos sat Ohrl'han, and the two were waiting eagerly for the arrival of the other forces from the defense at Banton Beach. While that contingent paled in number to their forces gathered here, among them were Warren, Srdiv, and many others who were vital for the survival of Arcadia.

  Cad found himself staring at the map that was laid out in front of him—the same map that th
ey had been staring at for weeks. The wait before the battle was always the most unnerving, and Cad hated to admit that there was anything that could reach him in that manner. But there was, and it was the slow moments just before edge drew red.

  During battle, there was nothing that could reach him. The Tokkan Peaks had taught him that. The mountains were harsh, and the frost harsher still. The frost made hunger. And hunger brought violence. That was long ago, when he was but a child. When Arcadia was just an unconquered land of colonizers.

  Cad had risen to lead his people to something better. He rose because he commanded that frost, and so others followed him. A few remained in the mountains, but many were with him in the kingdom.

  And now, it was time to lead again. The Dommogin could not defeat them, the Seamenders could not, and Liberty would not.

  “I'm not sure if there's anything more that you can garner from staring at it,” remarked Ohrl'han, snapping Cad out of his thoughts.

  Cad looked up at the veri who smiled at him, and Cad let loose a groan of impatience. “There is naught else to do while we wait. What would you suggest?”

  The veri shrugged. “Read a book, perhaps. Try a new delicacy that you might have been saving. There are plenty of things to do, especially when you might meet the jaws of death soon.”

  “And yet you're here too,” Cad said. “Unless, you have the gall to claim that you will reach the other side of this war.”

  “Is it because we long for the battle?” asked Ohrl'han, “or is it because we long for the battle to be over?”

  Cad stopped to ponder the riddle, for the veri always seemed to have one. Garen, the homeland of the Veri, must have kicked Ohrl'han out for coming up with so many conundrums; Cad nor the other human leaders had as of yet to discover the veri's reason for leaving behind his people. Warren had stopped his advances long ago, though Srdiv and Cad still pressured Ohrl'han constantly to divulge that information. The veri had so far declined every inquiry.