...Forton...
Enri's first stop was her room where she kept a spare potion. 'Ow, this hurts... this hurts like hell...' She thought as she held her arm just below the wrist. 'Did she turn my bones to powder?! OK Enri, focus! First, use one of your husband's healing potions, then go see the Sorcerer King. I can't let her just 'do' this.'
Her legs moved barely slower than a run, the clacking of her feet on the floor made her think of her childhood. 'It's just like then...' She thought to herself as tears began to come unbidden to her eyes, the day she had been bitten by a stray dog, her father had witnessed it, attacked and killed the beast, but been bitten in the leg himself. He'd rushed her home for help, but tried to hide his own pain, the way he'd moved as if every step was agony... 'I wonder if it hurt like this...' She clenched her eyes as the pain built, she wanted desperately to just run to her room, but it jostled her arm too much, so a scurrying quick step was all she could manage.
'She doesn't even know, she has no idea what she did... dear god, that's it... she has absolutely no idea...' Enri's eyes widened at the realization as she reached her room, rushed to her bedside, and took the potion out of a drawer. She drank it down as fast as she could, and sighed with relief as the pain quickly faded to nothing.
She smacked her lips with satisfaction and wiped her eyes clean. "Thank you, husband." She said as she set the empty bottle down. "Now, as for you Neia... I'm not letting you do this." Enri reminded herself as she leaned against the wall to compose herself.
It took several minutes in her room, and a brief time at a basin of water washing her face, before she felt ready to go confront her Lord. When she was ready, she took a deep breath, and began to walk to his office with the same urgency she'd had with her injury only minutes earlier. Her arms swung at her side with the kind of brisk confidence that was now second nature to her and her legs ate up the floor with long strides, her eyes were fixed ahead and unshaking in their certainty.
She held all that together all the way to the moment she reached the door of the Sorcerer King's office. 'Wait... what if he does want this? What if this is all part of his plan?' She swallowed for a moment, 'Then you'll know, at least. Go on.' She answered herself in thought, and knocked on the door with her confidence restored.
"Enter." The noble voice she could never forget, called out, and she pushed one side of the heavy door open with great effort, it was slow, and only enough that she could slip inside, but- in she went.
As soon as she entered she walked to his desk and bent her knee before him. "Your Majesty." Enri said quietly, "I beg a moment of your time to bring a grave matter to your attention."
She saw immediately that he had been going through documents, but as soon as she'd knelt and spoken, he set the one in hand aside and folded his hands on the desk in front of him, she could feel all his attention focused upon her.
"Speak." He said simply.
Enri told him everything... save the part where Neia had crushed her wrist, or put a hand over her throat. At the end of her narrative, she glanced at the Sorcerer King and saw him rubbing his chin in thought before he spoke to her, "I see. Well, let me first say, you have correctly understood my will. I do not intend to terrorize my guests into submission. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."
"My Lord," Enri began reluctantly, "I... I must question the continued fitness of General Neia Baraja for command over her army. The events of Wheaton, and... other things, cause me to think she has lost reason to bloodlust, she is loyal and dedicated to your will, true. But she will only hand you a graveyard if she is allowed to go on as she is. She... she reminds me of the knights who came to my village, the day you saved us all. Worse, I don't think she understands how far gone she is, her perspectives are all skewed... and... my Lord... I see only death in her future if nothing is done."
"Explain." Ainz asked with a tightly controlled sense of urgency in his voice.
"I asked her about what was best for her, and without outright saying it, she implied that she has no future. Why would she think that? This war is nearly over... there's a world after that to work on making." Enri's voice gradually filled with fear as she imagined herself traveling the same path as the warrior pope.
"She is in... deep distress." Ainz admitted, "I have some familiarity with cases like hers from the First World, it sometimes happens to those who drink too deeply from the cup of war. I will be getting her help, but I believe she will only be destroyed if I remove her now. I am sending Sebas with her after the conference to help keep her... contained, while she fulfills another task. That should keep the bloodshed to a minimum, but thank you for coming to me with this." Ainz said calmly, "I will speak with her promptly."
"My Lord, may this servant ask but one more boon of you?" Enri asked hopefully.
"You may ask, at least." Ainz said in a lordly tone that, as it often did, filled her with passionate enthusiasm for his service.
"My Lord, when this country is conquered, I would ask that you allow me to take governorship over the Slane Theocracy, at least long enough to oversee the reconstruction. I believe I can do it effectively." She asked hopefully and dared to raise her eyes to meet his staring red orbs.
"Is there perhaps some motivation to your request? A motivation you are not revealing?" He asked pointedly.
Enri lowered her eyes for a moment, "There... is. My Lord, I assure you I will work hard but... I have seen who Neia has become, she is a red hand, a weapon, a force of terror. She used violence and intimidation to maintain control over the reconstruction of her capital. I want to show her that was never the only way! That compassion and kindness also have value, I want to prove her wrong! Forgive my selfishness... perhaps... perhaps I want to prove it to myself as well... but please... please my Lord! I know I'm not wrong! You showed me this way yourself! You cared for my people, protected us, gave us your loyalty as we gave you our own! I know that this way works, but she has... well I don't think she's ever seen it! So I want to be the one to show her... and maybe that will help. Maybe if she sees, maybe if the whole world sees... we really can get that world that we all want in common!" Enri argued passionately and prostrated herself impulsively.
"Please! My King! Let me be the one to do this!" She asked with such force that her entire body trembled.
"Alright." Ainz answered after a moment, "Before the province is broken up into different governorships, you will retain control over the entirety and handle its reconstruction. Return to your quarters and get your rest for now, I must summon Neia to me."
"My Lord!" Enri said happily as she fairly leaped up to her feet and bowed deeply, before withdrawing from the office.
...Neia's Quarters...
'Go... go. God damn it! Go, get out of here before someone sees you.' Neia thought to herself, her senses were running hot, she felt like every touch of air over her skin was carrying the warning of a threat, her entire body was barely kept from a visible tremble. 'Damn her... why did she have to get in the way... why did I... do that?!' She folded her arms in front of her as she walked and began to push her feelings down into a pit in her stomach, trying desperately to ignore them and focus on taking one step at a time, she listened with extra care for any hint that someone else might be near, so that she wouldn't have to deal with nobody else.
She exhaled a breath she hadn't known she was holding as soon as she walked into her quarters, she turned, closed, and locked the door. For good measure, she looked around and found a desk with a heavy stone surface over a thick, dense, and expensive wood. "Yes, you'll do." She said, and went to where it sat, taking it with both hands, she dragged it over to the front of the door, and set it down to block the only entrance.
Satisfied with its relative security, and reaching up to touch her lips as she thought of the last time she'd kissed her wife, and a furious scowl formed on her face, she went to where a small round table sat, and brought her fist down on it hard enough to make it shatter, the pieces hit ground, and for good measure, she kicked one of the larger chunks hard enough that it embedded itself into the wall.
"Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it damn it!" She snarled out over and over again before she went to the wine rack in a corner and took a bottle up. She held it by the neck. "Just one drink, just one, just one and then... then, maybe get some rest." She said as she looked at it. Her fingers tensed, closing into a fist, the glass shattered and the bottle fell and hit the floor, it landed on its side and thick red liquid glugged out onto the floor. "No." Neia whispered and shut her eyes tight against the thought, the thought of someone she'd injured... killed... the way blood pumped out of his femoral artery when she'd thrust her sword there, leaving him squealing and clutching in futility as she left him to bleed out and sought another victim. The surprise when three had jumped through windows in a building and caught her off guard... "Too weak... too weak and too brave and too wrong and..." She shook the thought off.
She looked longingly at the bed and went to where it was. A large one, with a thick, soft blanket, it called to her. "Skana... I wish you were here... How I wish... no... no no no no no." She said as she thought about the way her hand went to Skana's throat. Her desire for the bed scattered like dust blown away by a sudden wind, she looked instead to a small closet, one she could close in, where she didn't have to risk being around anyone. "Yes, you'll do." She whispered, and went inside, she closed the door behind her, and slumped herself against the wall, and staring at nothing in the darkness, she began to drift off at last to sleep.
...Crossroads...
Eire bent over the bucket and vomited as soon as she got out of bed. "Damn it." She said as she wiped her mouth and went to wash up. "Vomit... is... disgusting." She said, and then broke into a mild smile of relief. The cause of her relief was going to be outside the front door of her tavern in an hour or less. She quickly donned her work attire. A simple brown dress, flat shoes, and a black apron. She rushed down, 'almost' ignoring the bloodstains where men had died or been injured not that long ago. The business of living allowed her no luxury to reflect again, and for that she was grateful. She even ignored a very distant shout that said the entire city had not been restored to peace yet.
Here though, she was able to wear a smile because she felt safe. She went outside to the large oven, made the fire and set the bread to baking. Then it was inside to make another small fire and begin to heat the water and stock for the stew she'd be serving to the reason she was feeling safer.
Almost on the dot, she was going to be ready, her feet rushing around with the smoothness of an expert dancer who had danced the same dance ten thousand times. She pursed her lips and started to whistle with happiness as she flew from task to task, and then within to right the chairs at the many tables. She paused only once, to look with lingering longing at the corner where Petyr had first amused a crowd of patrons by a mocking song that had gotten him a fair sum of money. He'd had a gifted tongue and a quick wit that night, and every other night.
She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes, then resumed her life, rushing to the door, she unlocked it and the knights of the Baharuth Empire came streaming in and sat down. A raucous but respectable lot wearing steel plate armor and carrying swords at their sides and shields on their backs, they spent coins with Jircniv's face on them. Behind them came the soldiers of Black Justice, clad in black scale mail with varied emblems painted in the center, wearing black cloaks and carrying sharp swords and bows, the two could not have looked more different.
Behind both of those came soldiers from the Army of Carne, Enri's home town forces were distinct in that most carried spears or halberds with short swords, except for the goblin corps or demihumans that now also frequented the tavern. 'I still don't believe it. I can now tell one army from another just at a glance... but more than that... I'm 'comfortable'.' She shook her head in dismay and began rushing around to get beer, juice, and breakfast orders, lightly stepping over wayward feet and spinning by a chair that suddenly thrust out as someone stood without knowing she was there, in the battle of life, this was her arena and she was a master of the waging of it.
They all paid good coin, and to her shock, they all, at least the humans... seemed 'normal'. No horrible rituals, nobody hurt her or threatened to, nobody tried to walk out without paying their bill, at least not twice, because they were the victors and she was a conquered citizen. The few that did were dealt with by their own people and she got double the coin as compensation.
'It's enough to forget what they did to the rebels...' She thought to herself as she remembered the frozen bodies that had been hit by ice dragons, the burned ones where people had been set on fire, the hangings of those deemed to be 'outside the rules' by being out of uniform when they tried to fight. The temples of the six were all reduced to rubble, and the fighting had reduced the population by almost half, a great many had outright fled the city for the hope of safety in Kami Miyako. 'But you're alive.' She thought as she mindlessly started slapping mugs down on tables with practiced ease before she went outside to the oven to retrieve the first batch of bread.
Inside, she could hear someone start singing. 'Petyr?! No... not Petyr... he's dead.' She reminded herself, the voice wasn't quite right, close though it was. As she put the bread on the tray, she briefly pondered trying to get to Kami Miyako, and again dismissed the notion, if this was a game to make her and everyone else who wasn't fighting, feel safe before destroying them, they were truly committed to the role. 'Besides, what kind of sick fuck would do that to anyone?' She pondered as she headed back in and hands went up calling for bread and holding copper coins.
'No, I was just wrong, now I have to live with that.' She thought, and touched one hand over her belly where Petyr's child was growing, 'How I'll explain it to this one someday, I have no idea... no wonder that woman... monster thing... let me go... she knew. And she was right.' Eire thought as she started passing out the bread as coins were put into the apron pouch. She kept the frown from off her face as she felt hatred swell inside her breast, 'I will never forgive them. Never. Never ever. Fuck the priests, fuck the six. They ruined everything.' She thought to herself, hiding the vindictive thoughts behind a flirty smile that saw an extra coin tossed into her pouch as she handed a partial loaf to a good looking young soldier in steel plate armor.
Outside, a mile from where she worked, in another part of the city, fires raged as the last insurrectionists tried in vain to stave off their extermination for another hour.
...C'Teon...
Noise and shouts rose up from the city well before the armies reached it. Gargantua alone would have been horror enough, but backed by tens of thousands of demihumans, a hundred thousand dark elves, wolf-riding dark dwarves, and human soldiers in the hated black armor... only added to the nightmare.
"Surround them on three sides." Leinas said with a malicious smile on her lovely young face.
"You have something in mind?" Khava asked curiously.
"Yes. His Majesty wants orphans, free of their parents hatred, to destroy an entire civilization root and branch so that it will never rise again? Alright. First you surround them on three sides, then we send Gargantua to the fourth, let it destroy the wall there so that the population can flee. Then as one, our armies shout one word, 'Run'. Let as many as wish to, run for Kami Miyako. I don't imagine the food situation there can be very good. Whatever stays here to fight, dies, what is too young to fight, we keep alive for later fostering, and as for those who run? Well, why fear cowards?" Leinas held her arms out in a casual shrug, closed her eyes, and laughed the grim laugh of the experienced killer.
Ryla and Khava shared malicious looks, "So our human cousins from afar are on friendly terms with death, it seems." Ryla's smile was more than enthusiastic as she rubbed her hands together eagerly. "You know... Chindai is the greatest of our men... and if you're..."
Leinas threw back her head and laughed, "Thank you for the honor, but... I'm afraid I'll have to decline, I've no intention of binding myself to anyone that way, unless my king commands it. Besides, much as I respect the dark elf traditions, they're to me, better visited than lived. I like a settled life now, I'm not one for wandering the plains. He is a handsome one though, I'll give him that."
Khava and Aureole Omega chuckled at the exchange. "Forgive the suggestion," Khava said with an amused laugh getting just a bit louder as it went on, "I had no idea your relationship with the Master of the Everplains was… like that."
Leinas turned red, "No no no no! I promise it isn't, that isn't what I meant!" Her response, exaggerated as it was, brought even more laughter to the little group as their horses trod onward to bring death to their common enemy.
"I will go back to Nazarick with stories to tell, that much is sure." Aureole Omega said as an amused smile formed on her face.
The flags went up and the armies' wings began to branch out to surround the city, wails of fear and desperation were carried far beyond the city walls, but confusion was added to the mix as it became obvious that the entirety of it was not to be surrounded.
Gargantua came close to the walls, passing close enough that it could be touched by those who stood at the parapets if they stretched out their hands but a little.
Garal stretched out his hand to do precisely that. His blue eyes wide with awe, the stone of the enormous golem was as smooth as his own flesh, it's steps were like a constantly rolling thunder. When it passed by, he looked down at the hand that had touched it, and ran it along his face as if unable to believe the comparison to be a true one. Sure enough, it felt much the same. "How could anyone... anything... make a mountain walk? What are they even making it 'do'?" He wondered aloud, beside him, his brother, Kalim, looked at him as if he were insane.
"How the hell should I know?" Kalim snapped at him, they were frozen but for their tongues, unable to truly process the reality in front of them, and as Gargantua moved on, the Theocracy soldiers were only slightly less mesmerized by the massive army in front of them.
"We're going to die here... aren't we?" Garal asked sadly.
"Probably." Kalim bowed his head in ascent, a few had chosen to swing their swords or maces at the stone behemoth, some had chosen to shoot arrows, and others turned their catapults and scorpions on it, but if there were even any scratches, let alone damage, it wasn't evident. All projectiles and all efforts at all, seemed to simply bounce away and fall to the ground as if they were never used in the first place.
Their heads went back and forth from the army to the monstrous construct, as its steps carried it to the eastern wall, and the mission of the moving mountain became evident. The enormous arm raised up over its head, and down it crashed in a firm chopping motion, screams echoed from those lucky enough to survive the impact, but they were drowned out by the sound of falling stone as it simply 'walked' peeling back the wall and toppling stone until its slow steady walk carried it all the way from the north east, to the south east tip of the long city wall... and then it just walked on, until it stepped behind one of the wings of the army on the other three sides.
A drum resounded from somewhere among the ranks of the largest host. Garal and Kalim reluctantly drew their swords, shaking with anticipation of the inevitable.
Then to their dismay, a single word was shouted in unison from all three sides. "Run!"
The city, already distraught, panicked beyond all reason, Garal and Kalim simultaneously found their eyes pulled away from the front, to look back into the city to see the chaos for themselves. From their position on the high wall, they could see people trampling each other, men, women, children, the elderly, the people with horses did not care if they shattered the bodies of those in front of them as they rode past, the young did not care for the old nor the strong for the weak, among the many who tried to flee, there were men in armor whose slowness and fear made them prone to simply being pushed out of the way, falling, and suffering a painful death as they were trampled. The armor meant to keep them alive, only gave them slower and more painful deaths as the city began to empty.
"Damn them!" Garal swore.
"Who?" Kalim could only ask as he fell to hands and knees and looked out helplessly over the city as it destroyed itself.
Garal felt his will leave his body and he fell back, against the stone crenelations. The spirit of defeat drained strength from his body. "I... I don't even know who I'm cursing. Them..." He gestured to the fleeing masses who slew their neighbors as they sought the safety of the path out of the city, "or them." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the army that caused the horror to take place. "Or all of them!" He threw his hands up in frustration before they fell at his sides.
All they could do, all anyone on the walls could do who was not actively fleeing for themselves, was watch and wait. Finally Kalim asked him, "What will you do?"
Garal frowned. "I'm a soldier of the Slane Theocracy, my enemy is out there. Besides, my brother is here with me, I can't leave him."
Kalim winked at him, "Same, good to stand with you. That is... if I can get my feet under me again."
Garal shrugged, "Yeah, remember that time when we were little, and you let father's horse escape the barn, so you hid in the hay pile while I took the blame?"
Kalim's pale face blushed and he sheepishly took off his helmet and ran his hands through his short black hair. "Yeah... I never did pay you back for that one."
"No, but since we're on the subject... maybe there is some way you can do it eventually." Garal said as he looked out over the wall, and saw a single figure stand in front of the host and perform some sort of ritual like motions.
"What's that?" Kalim asked as he watched his brother go from the crenelations, back to the edge and look down.
"Name your son after me." Garal said with a wry smile.
"Funny, but I'm not even married." Kalim said with an unfortunate and regretful laugh of his own.
"No, but someday you will be." Garal replied, "And when you are, I hope you can forgive me for this."
"Forgive you for what?" Kalim asked in confusion.
"Well, for pointing that out over there." Garal replied and pointed down the side of the wall where a large hay pile sat.
"Looks like the one from when we were kids, what about it?" Kalim asked.
"It's just that, just like back then, there's only room for one." Garal replied, and Kalim had a moment of dawning understanding on his face, before the mailed fist of his brother connected with him just as his mouth was opening to object.
Kalim slumped, and Garal grabbed him before he could fall the wrong way, then stripping him of the metal armor, and leaving his brother with only the padding beneath, he rolled him over the edge of the wall, thirty feet below, where his unconscious body disappeared into the large pile of straw.
"Hope you make it, brother, and forgive me." Garal said as he watched the lone figure start it's advance against his position. The army behind it waited for a good fifty paces, and then began to follow.
Aureole Omega finished her ritual and advanced against the wall by herself, behind her, they counted out her steps, and on she went, she ignored them and focused on the task at hand, she took an almost whimsical skipping pace to herself, a few arrows came her way when she was within range, but she saw that most of the wall was abandoned, few bolts of the scorpions were shot and no catapults were evidently manned. Clumps of soldiers gathered for their final duty. A pale young man of considerable courage drew his bow and sent arrow after arrow straight at her heart. "Not bad shooting really, some of these Theocracy Soldiers are actually very brave." She said thoughtfully as she came to the wall. When he saw his arrows weren't working, she saw that he gave up on that, and took up a rope, tied it to the crenelations, and jumped down, using the rope to help him repel down to the front of the wall, putting his body between her and the stone she was going to smash.
"Futile effort." She said playfully.
"But my effort! This is my city! Back there is my family! This is my country! And I won't just let you take it! I'm Garal of the Theocracy, monster, and you will not pass while I live!" He shouted at her and let out a battle cry, charging the last few feet from where he was, to where she approached.
"What a waste of courage." Aureole Omega said with annoyance as her fist flew out, and his torso shattered, his own bones pierced his body as they broke into pieces, and he flew back against the wall he tried to defend, staining it with his blood. His eyes were losing focus as she drew back for a second strike, this time against the stone.
"No..." He gurgled out through the blood he was hacking up. His blue eyes wild with desperation.
"Oh no you don't!" Aureole Omega snapped in annoyance as he seemed intent on at least spitting blood on the clothing given to her by a Supreme Being. She jumped away by a few feet, and then the one who called himself Garal staggered forward, and fell, a look of relief on his face as his eyes dulled and the light died.
She drew back her fist again, and brought it forward, shattering the wall as easily as a hammer smashed a melon. 'What the hell was that about?' She wondered idly, then shrugged it off and got back to work.
C'teon began to fall like a puppet whose strings had been cut, the handful of city militia, better fit for breaking up tavern brawls or dealing with bandits, had no quality answer for the army that had come against it. Here and there, Leinas could detect the sound of desperate fighting, but by and large she and her companions had only to trot their horses forward.
Still, hard experience or not, she felt her heart moved somewhat by moments, the reedy wail of a woman's newborn as she brought forth life at the worst possible time, and found herself alone as someone she trusted, abandoned her and the child to their fates.
Sometimes she felt her heart swell in admiration, as a farmer with a pitchfork tried to defend what little he had against soldiers he had no chance at all of defeating. Still, step by step, her soldiers seized it all, the howls of dark elven revenge were notable as they gloried in the moment, but as she rode on, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, that Khava's hands were tense on the reigns of her mount.
"Something wrong?" Leinas asked her, "We're not in any real danger anymore, this is probably the most embarrassing defeat the Theocracy has suffered in its entire history."
"It isn't that," Khava replied coldly, "Before I escaped from Kami Miyako, I was a slave here. C'Teon was something of a... waystation, if you will. It was the first city most elven captives saw, if they didn't end up going to Wheaton. That's where the city got its name, 'Central One' used to have some other name, but it was a major distribution hub for Theocracy armies, goods, and so on. It's like..." She scratched her head as she tried to think of an analogy.
"E-Rantel." Leinas said impulsively.
"E-Rantel?" Khava asked doubtfully.
"Yes, E-Rantel was the assembly point for the Kingdom's armies in their wars against the Baharuth Empire. They kept warehouses in great abundance, far greater than the city's needs by itself, it held food, goods, everything, and because it was only used for soldiers during war, the rest of the time most merchants would rent out the extra space, and it became a major trading hub despite it having a lower population." Leinas explained patiently, and Khava nodded enthusiastically.
"Exactly. Feron's exported raw materials usually found their way to smithies here, slaves bound for Kami Miyako, wheat from Wheaton... Kami Miyako was too densely packed to serve the same purpose without expanding the walls. So C'Teon took up the difference. So... I know this place... and I hate every stone of it." Khava hissed through clenched teeth. "I want to kill everything still living inside these walls... and... if I weren't convinced that the people who ran, were running to their doom, I'd want to chase them down... I don't know how much rope it would take to hang them all... but I'd like to see if there's enough.
Ryla reached out and took her by the hand, and Leinas could not think of anything else to say, not until they reached the central plaza before the governor's manor and administrative center.
"We'll check the place... thoroughly." Leinas promised somberly. Khava did not answer, neither saw the need to do so.
...Slane Theocracy...
General Boabdil rode back the way he came. The snow drifting down threatened to bury him more than once as he considered his encounter with the undead General Oma.
'How long have I been on the road now? Everything seems to run together?' He wondered to himself as his horse went step by step back to the army he'd so recently left, the clip clop noise of the hooves was buried like the hooves themselves, beneath a layer of snow and anything left was carried off by the steady wind.
When he could, he spurred the horse to galloping, holding his cloak tight against his body to keep himself as warm as he could, his once immaculate beard more akin to that of a homeless beggar than a much esteemed commander, only having changed into his elaborate armor and equipment suggested his true status.
"Is there anyone less lucky than you?" He asked aloud as the cold bit into his old bones. "Okay... yes, dead people... and... yes probably the elven slaves, them too. Alright, lots of people, but of comparable people to my position, I can think of nobody less lucky than I. Not least because I'm freezing my balls off going back the way I came to the place I was almost assassinated to tell everybody it's hopeless. And to top it all off, I'm talking to myself like a crazy person and I can't even tell how long it's been."
He shivered and shuddered, but on he rode, sleeping in the saddle and pausing only to relieve himself or let his horse rest. He made the best time he could, and eventually ran into outriding scouts of the army, who brought him swiftly back to camp.
He went immediately to the command tent, where he found General Heikeren waiting for him. His escort dismissed, they clasped hands in greeting, but each wore a joyless expression as Heikeren gestured to a chair, into which Boabdil quickly flopped himself without even a pretense of dignity.
"General Boabdil..." Heikeren leaned forward urgently, lines of care etched on his face, "Why are you here? You should be with your new command..."
"I have no command." General Boabdil replied bluntly. "Because the army to which I was riding, was exterminated to the last man before I could take control over it."
Heikeren's face went gray as death, and his lustrous eyes seemed to become dull and hopeless as Boabdil watched. "What... happened?"
Boabdil held up one hand, and then one finger. "One spell, that was all it took. You remember the briefings, before all this began?"
Heikeren swallowed audibly. "I do, Sir. The Katze Plains, the meeting for the Accords, the tall tales of other impossible magics... everyone believed he'd used a trump card at the Katze Plains but... I guess that isn't true, is it?" He asked with hopelessness rising in his voice.
"No, clearly it wasn't, he pointed, said something, and... everyone just 'died' consumed by some shadow and not even their bodies were left behind. Worse than that, do you want to guess 'why' he did it?!" Boabdil asked in agony as he pulled at his own hair in frustration and despair.
"I probably don't." Heikeren replied as he looked down as the urgency of his mentor's tone hit him.
"No, you don't, but I'll tell you regardless. Those gods be damned Agante! The fools assassinated General Oma!" Boabdil snapped.
"Oma is dead? That is... regrettable. I worked with her when you sent me to the Draconic Kingdom. She was a great talent, had a good sense of humor, and speaking as a man... well, she was very beautiful." Heikeren felt the wind leave his sails as he thought of his former ally on the other side, and a hint of mourning struck his heart.
"Speaking as a man, she's still very beautiful, because... she is not exactly dead. Despite the fact that the Agante burned her body to nothing, the Sorcerer King was able to restore her... she's now a legendary undead... She was... there. The Sorcerer King wanted me to see, wanted me to know. She rode to me on a black horse that gave off black smoke with every step, she spoke to me of my mission... the Sorcerer King is coming, his generals, the fingers of his bloody hand, are coming to Kami Miyako. He showed me how futile it all is, we simply... we can't win." Boabdil's words were slow and mournful, there wasn't even any bitterness left in his voice, just weariness.
"What do you propose we do?" General Heikeren asked, utterly at a loss to even close his mouth as he desperately asked the question and pondered his unthinkable circumstances.
Boabdil reached out and clapped Heikeren on the shoulder, he held him there, still strong despite his age, the weathered general hardened his heart for what he had to say next.
"We can't defeat anyone, not anymore. But that doesn't mean we're without options. We can save some. We'll back away from Crossroads, we've harassed Enri's scouts since we abandoned the place, keeping her from coming South. The insurrection... has at least kept her busy I'm sure. We can slip away without notice, and head for Kami Miyako, we can get in the way of General Neia. If someone is going to seize the capital, I'd rather it not be her. I'd rather General Enri be the one to do it, out of all the Undead King's officers, she's the one most likely to see our people left alive."
"That's an option but... Sir, I propose something else... our men are loyal to you, they trust you. I say we return to Kami Miyako, with the entire army, and take the place ourselves. We depose Dominic, install you in command, and allow you to surrender to General Enri when she arrives." Heikeren said enthusiastically.
"It could work." He thought to himself... "Or... they'll just kill us all regardless. General Baraja cut her teeth on Jaldabaoth's armies as a squire, she sharpened them on surviving demihumans, she made her reputation against Remedios and Suchala, and what's more, if what our few remaining spies say is even remotely true, she's the human hand of the Sorcerer King. Every single army is likely to be put under her command when she arrives. That means she 'can't' be allowed to arrive." Boabdil thought the matter over as his 'replacement' looked at him intently.
"Alright... what about this? I'll go to Kami Miyako, I'll just bet there are dissident elements in the city, I can raise the hue and cry, and warn them of the army's coming, if I can rally the population and overthrow Dominic myself." He said, holding out his hands hopefully.
General Heikeren rubbed his temple, "And 'us'?" He asked.
Boabdil spoke somberly, "You go north, meet General Enri, and surrender your army... on the condition that she gets in the way of General Baraja herself."
"You realize you have almost no chance, right?" Heikeren asked his mentor as he grabbed the old general's hands.
"I'm already dead, remember?" He replied, "I can't lead the army against General Baraja, she knows my name too well as the one who fought General Enri for this long, the one who captured many of their scouts, killed many of the people that her organization trained. If I go to General Baraja, she's more likely to kill me than to listen. If I am with the army when it surrenders to General Enri... she'll likely consider Enri a traitor for accepting it, or for getting in her way. If I take this army to block General Baraja... she'll slaughter us for the sake of it. I've always been an... unlucky man." Boabdil said wistfully, "However, I've done and accomplished more with bad luck than most people do with good. Let this old man use his bad luck to his nation's benefit, one more time."
Heikeren looked at him for a long time, "We're soldiers... we're supposed to do more than this!" He said urgently, "We were supposed to withdraw, conduct a fighting retreat, rally the..."
He stopped when one hand of the old general left the hold and touched Heikeren's beard.
"You're also people, and people are supposed to live, and nothing else we do gives any of our people a chance at that. I wasn't exaggerating when I told you what the Sorcerer King was capable of doing. He 'wanted' me to see, he 'wanted' me to know, so I could tell you, so I could tell everyone. His herald wrought terror by speaking, his general defied our knives by rising from ashes and he took away an entire army, right out of existence, horses, wagons, men, women, everything when he pointed at it and decided it should cease to be!"
Heikeren looked down at the snow on the ground beneath them, and Boabdil went on, "You and Ira aren't just proteges to me, you're like my son and daughter. I've seen enough death for a hundred lifetimes, and I know what's coming if nothing is done to avert it."
"General Baraja will take command over the others, with her record, the only other competitor is General Enri, and given that the Agante managed to stain her reputation with their stupid and futile insurrection, it's very doubtful she'll get the job. She'll have that damned walking mountain knock down the walls, and then everything in Kami Miyako that counts as human will be exterminated. She 'hates' us like the elves do. All this time... we worried about monsters. And look at us... we made one out of a human, and that's what comes to end us?" Boabdil laughed a bitter, brutal laugh that Heikeren could not share.
"Sir... alright, it sounds utterly mad, but... maybe? But I won't let you go alone! Go in with at least a small escort, say... twenty soldiers. Something at least." He said urgently.
"Alright... fine, I get the feeling you'd have me knocked out and chained up for my safety if I refused even that much." Boabdil agreed reluctantly, but let a proud crack like smile form from his lips
"Yeah... probably." General Heikeren rubbed the back of his head a bit sheepishly.
"You'll need some rest at least, we've got a few days before any action can take place, this storm brewing is all but impossible for her human troops and for some reason General Enri hasn't been sighted at all. The assassin squad that went to eliminate her during the uprising... well, they never reported back, or so the Agante liaison said before he took to his heels." Heikeren grumbled incoherently. "That was the point, by the way, they started this uprising to throw her off balance and create a chance to kill her, they threw away the lives of thousands upon thousands of our people in a rebellion they couldn't win, just to get a 'chance' at taking one life, the only life that actually treated our people with real compassion."
Boabdil groaned, "I hope she's still as kindly inclined after that, I wouldn't be surprised if all of them started brutal crackdowns in imitation of General Baraja, after all if treating us well doesn't work, but brutality does, which would you choose?"
"Ah, shit." Heikeren said crudely.
"Agreed." Boabdil replied succinctly as he stood up and went to pour a bottle of wine into two cups. "Last one, I take it?" He asked as he handed one over.
"Last one. Well, nobody I'd rather drink it with." Heikeren replied, and together they finished it off.