Zesshi was not a loud woman, not by any means. She was a placid sea, but every drop was wrath, cold as the frozen winter or hot as the surface of the Sun itself. She could not remember the last time she'd raised her voice, save to address her soldiers just a moment ago. This was different, this was wrath given voice, pain spoken to the air, hatred boiling out of her lungs as she swung her scythe and reaped a harvest of stone.
Her voice carried over the shattering noise as she swung, and swung, and swung, so great was her ferocity that both armies for an instant, froze in utter disbelief that anyone, however strong, could do what she was doing now. She was a vendetta made flesh, and her heart and her flesh were harder than the stone she struck. And so it gave way beneath her, crumbling into pebbles and fragments and falling down like a spring rain, the dust hiding her briefly like a fog, and she the monster concealed within it.
Queen Draudillon watched this with abject disbelief, and an ever increasing hatred for the Slane Theocracy. They had that woman in their ranks… and had not sent her to aid the Draconic Kingdom? Such a warrior could have reaped a harvest of beastmen sufficient to end the war in a day, had she only been unleashed. She looked up at the head of the dead messenger that sat affixed to the pike. "We will avenge you, that much I can promise." She said softly.
Though she knew it was impossible, she felt like even the dead eyes of the murdered man were transfixed by the spectacle of destruction as the walls of the Forlorn Fortress, which had stood for centuries, snapped and broke like toothpicks.
Zesshi's command armor was designed expressly to make her stand out and make her more effective in her leadership position, that much Queen Draudillon knew without a doubt, but it seemed it also offered top notch protection as arrows that struck her body when the various armies came to their senses, simply 'pinged' off of her, bouncing off or breaking and falling straight down to the ground at her feet.
The elven commanders gave each other hungry looks as they watched their general personally demolish stone walls, the flying column of mounted soldiers was filled with hatred and bloodlust, and though initially put off by the enormous walls, that faded as the awe of their general's power was put on full display. In their heart of hearts, many still had their doubts about whether this was anything but a suicide mission, the elf King was widely considered to be invincible, yet here was one who seemed to be his equal, one who could bring him down. It did a world of good for their morale as the lingering doubts, some of which were buried so deep that they were not even recognized by their bearers, were blown away like dust in the wind.
The humans of the Slane Theocracy were brave, nobody would deny that, and here at the Forlorn Fortress, that was doubly true. Where the walls still stood, so too did human warriors, their arrows flew out against the massed ranks of the armies of Draudillon and Zesshi, here and there a foot fell for the final time and a cry of pain was cut off by an arrow in the throat or in the eye. Yet the tide did not stem.
Still it was a bitter fight as desperate and zealous soldiers of the six great gods came screaming into the fray, only for Zesshi to spread the blood of their bodies into the air like a red mist with a swing of her scythe. Squads began to advance down roads and kicked down the doors of buildings, from within the obscuring walls desperate scuffles could be heard and shouts for aid that would never come, pierced the air to find indifferent or helpless ears, or worse, to draw in another eager to spill blood.
The fighting was bitter and harsh, with quarter neither given nor asked, but house by house, street by street, the outer zone of the Forlorn Fortress began to fall into the hands of the besiegers. Queen Draudillon had begun to advance herself, only to be stopped by the outstretched hands of one of her honor guard, a slender, almost womanly looking young man of delicate features named Coeur. "Majesty… no." He said in a kind, even sympathetic voice.
"My people are out there dying… where else should I be?" She asked sharply and made to advance again, only for the young man to stop her again, tugging at the reigns of her massive white horse.
"Here." He said firmly, "You are not a warrior, you can't use tier magic, if you go, you may hearten your soldiers, but you will also present an irresistible target, and many more may die to protect you. Please… stay here." He said, daring to lock eyes with the descendant of a dragon.
Her eyes were not full of wrath as she met his gentle look, it seemed so out of place on what must have been a highly skilled warrior, the tone of his words touched her heart, and though it cut somewhat that she could do nothing more than she had, his message reached her and her tense body relaxed. "You're right," she said with a sigh, "I appreciate your counsel, Coeur."
His armor and that of the rest of her honor guard relaxed visibly, the metal rattling as they sat back in their saddles while they watched the fighting. From where they sat atop their massive horses, they could see their soldiers were reaching the tops of the walls. Close fighting was bitter, and sometimes they could see someone fall over the crenelations down to the ground many feet below. They could not hear the sickening 'thud' of a body being forever stilled, but there was not one who did not wince as they imagined the sound. Others fell within and could not be seen, but the deadly toll was telling the story of the end. Each soldier who could see what was happening, was so thrown off by the shock and horror of their outer defenses being so easily breached by humanity's trump card, a trump card they did not even know their nation had ever held, or how it had been turned against them that for minutes, precious, vital minutes, they could not find the ability to resist.
Even the bravest may be frightened of sudden terrors, and that was the case here. They could not see where Zesshi was as she moved within the fortress, but they could guess. She was an army unto herself, and they could see where she had casually demolished a building when the dust or stones were flung up beyond the height of what walls still stood. House to house fighting, for her, meant destroying the house with everybody still inside it, that much was obvious.
"She was right." Queen Draudillon said.
"About what, Your Majesty?" Coeur asked curiously.
"When I expressed doubt about her ability, she said that was the last time I would doubt her. She was absolutely right." The Queen's voice was awed, but it carried with it a bitter note as she marked down in her heart's ledger, another strike against the Slane Theocracy that had used her people as meat shields while they kept the weapons necessary to save her people, clutched tight to their breasts. This in turn also marked up in that same ledger, the gratitude and reverence she felt for the king to which she was going to submit.
That was when the wave hit. Like a black cloak that briefly hid the eyes, it consumed the world in an instant and only the fact that they were holding the reigns of their horses tightly in their tense state, kept them all from being bucked off the suddenly rearing mounts. There was Terror for an instant at the sudden pressure as if some giant was pressing its finger down on them hard enough to squash them like ants… then not, instead a rush of warmth and comfort as if they had been gathered to the bosom of a powerful and protective father, but nonetheless it left them sweating and staring in awe. The entirety of their armies had been gripped in that same moment, forced to their knees as if in deference to royalty. The effect on the Slane Theocracy however, was very different.
Terror, raw unbridled terror struck the bravest hearts as they felt a skeletal hand close around the beating life within their breasts, some fainted, a few suffered heart attacks, others dropped their weapons and fled as soon as they could get to their feet again, bitter fighting became a rout and the slow going on the outer wall went from a crawl to a walk to a sprint as their soldiers occupied positions held by the Theocracy. Many of the soldiers within the Forlorn Fortress trampled one another in their desperation to flee, a few fell into a madness that did not last as a vengeful elf or angry human cut down their madness with the swing of a sword or the thrust of a spear.
"There can be but one source for that…" Queen Draudillon said, trembling in an almost religious reverence.
"My Queen?" Coeur asked.
"I felt that once before." She said, "When the Sorcerer King came to avenge one of his servants upon those who had wronged her, he crushed them with the force of his aura alone, turned their bodies into jelly, something has angered him greatly, and I think I can guess what." She said by way of explanation.
"What?" He asked in his lilting voice.
"The Sorcerer King seems to take two things very personally, the first is the wellbeing of his people, as any decent royal should. The second would be his agreements, in the years he's ruled I have never once seen him break his word to anyone. For him to be this angry, I would lay odds that he has found out that his agreement with our common enemies have been completely breached or nearly so, and that this has resulted in many of his people suffering. I wonder how far his rage spread?" She asked rhetorically after she told the young knight what she knew.
He and his fellows gave a brief shudder at what she'd said. "You chose the right side, Your Majesty." He said emphatically.
"I know." She said with absolute conviction.
Within hours the entirety of the outer wall had fallen, but worse than that for the Forlorn Fortress was that there were so many soldiers on the exterior that they could not afford to simply cut them off, and so some noble soul held open the portcullis to allow them to flee within. This nameless, noble, loving, foolish soul kept it open to save his brothers and sisters, but hot upon their terror struck heels were the thundering hooves of undead mounts as cavalry began the process of butchering them from behind. In this desperation to save his fellows the gate was not closed until it was too late, a handful of elves and humans made their way through and rushed up the tower, quickly killed the lone defenders, and began to raise the gate back up. The chains groaned as they put muscle and bone to the task. Two sweat-soaked figures inched it back up while their comrades waited beyond, some firing arrows at the backs of those who fled, or into the faces of the few who found courage enough to rush to prevent the breach. Men with swords bright in the light, unstained by blood, fell back with arrows piercing youthful faces, their virgin blades never to be raised again.
Though a small number did reach the tower and attempted to mount the steps, that brave band of elves and humans that had first breached the secondary interior wall marked themselves as heroes, defending with their lives the valiant comrades who turned the wheel, inch by inch the portcullis was wound up, and each on the other side strove to be the first to join their brothers on the interior, rolling themselves or crawling under when only inches were given to them. They were heedless of the blood that slicked the way like oil when it soaked into the dirt and dust. This intensified the rout, but on the inner wall, time had allowed for men of courage to find their wills again and return to the defense, they manned the ballistas along the wall, and sent enormous arrows where they could, pinning down the mixed ranks at avenues and juncture points. They had resigned themselves to the loss of the exterior two walls, but they had not given up the fight. Driven by the mindless instincts brought on by constant preparations, they loaded and fired their weapons at every place that the two armies had to move through to gain ground.
The secondary interior wall fell easier than the outer wall, as did the entire area surrounding it, but such were the number of siege weapons and their massed ranks of archers, that had filtered back to their positions, that no further advance was possible without the breaching of the wall itself. By then, darkness had begun to set in. The orange light of the sun bathed the bodies of the living and the dead in its warm glow, and night's cloak was draped over defender and attacker in unison. This became the unspoken mutual agreement to a truce between the two armed camps, and those within could only watch as their buildings were torn down to make fires for cooking, or turned into shelters for their enemies.
When darkness had consumed the world entirely, Zesshi and her two commanders made their way to where Draudillon had established her tent. She approached with the vampire elves walking two paces behind her holding torches aloft, not for themselves to see, but rather that they may easily be seen and not mistaken for anyone else. Her command armor made her stand out as shadows danced on white in the firelight, and the duelist armor of the siblings at her back had an imposing, dangerous aura about it that caused even brave ones to shiver. They did not help comfort anyone by hiding their eyes, and so the blood red that was illuminated by the flames revealed easily just what they were. For those humans not yet familiar on a personal level with the inclusive policies of the Sorcerer King, this sent shudders of fear down the backs of those who saw them. More than one moved out of the way as fast as if they had charged into the breach points earlier in the day.
If it bothered the siblings, they gave no sign of it, they simply marched in even time behind their general, who stopped at the command center of the Draconic Queen. Two guards were stationed at the entrance to the building she had occupied as her headquarters, their stern faces like statues carved of stone, they did not flinch at either the scythe wielding Zesshi or at the vampire elves at her back. That drew a mental note of approval from the trio, courage was always to be revered. "A moment, General Zesshi, I'll go announce you."
"I can do it myself." She said bluntly, and the soldier paused, reflected a moment, and then nodded.
"I suppose you can." He replied, and she and her companions walked past and opened the heavy wooden door. When they entered, she looked about and found the room lit by 'continual light' enchanted objects hanging from the ceiling. Queen Draudillon was hunched over a map, staring intently, her hands pressed down on each corner, she looked up when the half elf walked in as brusquely as one might expect of a woman with her background. "You were right." She said firmly.
Her odd first words caught Zesshi off guard. "About?"
"I will not be doubting you again." She said, her voice tingedtinted with a note of apology.
Zesshi let out a slightly cocky smile, "No, I think you won't, but apology accepted."
The tension of their initial evident dislike of one another began to thaw a little, as Zesshi saw that the woman, however weak compared to her, was not without her strong points. That little glimpse of justified nobility set her more at ease, noting with satisfaction that she had been doing several things right along the way, not only in making a sincere apology, but now pouring over a map while other soldiers rested, ate, and drank. "Who works when others layabout, wins." She muttered under her breath as she remembered what Neia had said to her about their preparations.
Behind her stood several men in light armor, her staff, Zesshi presumed from their gear and their expressions. "Thank you for joining us, by the way." Queen Draudillon said politely, "These are my advisers, some of the few nobles to have survived my purges."
"Purges?" Zesshi asked.
She nodded, "I had entrusted the treasure that is my kingdom, to the guardianship of thieves. The power of the Sorcerer King, both in mind and in raw might, gave me the means to not only see them for what they were, but to remove them, publicly and permanently. The only ones who remain are with us because they demonstrated both character and ability. The rest are dead."
The voice of the queen was one of ice and contempt, while behind her the few she still had with her, looked proud and confident.
"They are, Count Cabron, Baron Leywin, Duke Asta, and the Marquis Neville." She said without looking behind her, and each one in turn raised their hand in greeting and politely inclined their heads.
"These are my vice commanders, Thirg and Tefl, and yes, they are both former slaves of the Slane Theocracy and yes, they are also both vampires." Zesshi said, and they gave smiles that showed off their fangs.
"The Sorcerer King's inclusive policies are indeed everything I have heard them to be." Count Cabron said in a neutral voice.
"They are, as long as they take only from the willing, or in battle against common enemies, and abide by his 'social contract' they are free to live openly. Nobody can harm them without cause, nor deprive them of the right to purchase goods or live where they wish or how they wish. Only breaching his peace will result in the loss of an equal place in his society under his laws." Zesshi said with a reverence that reminded Queen Draudillon of her own sense of awe.
When their eyes met again, a measure of understanding and the recognition of common ground, passed between the two, and that thaw of initial hostility over their obviously radical differences, intensified considerably.
"So, down to business, how do we take the rest of the fortress?" Queen Draudillon asked.
"I go smash the walls. Everybody goes through them, we swing our weapons until they stop moving." Zesshi said casually as if she were describing how to dig a latrine pit.
Thirg laughed, his massive torso heaving from the force of it, while beside him his lithe sister curled her lips in approval and nodded along. "Simple, but effective, idn' it?" She asked rhetorically.
"Yes… ah, yes it is." Queen Draudillon half stammered out, behind her, her staff looked at Zesshi in surprise.
"That isn't the question I came to ask or answer though." Zesshi said.
"Oh? What did you have in mind?" The queen replied.
"The real question is what do you do once you've taken the fortress?" She asked, "You can destroy it, but, I would actually suggest you leave some of your soldiers to hold it, a few thousand swords can hold out for a while, and it would serve very well to guard the way into your country, after all, and as a staging area for any reinforcements you have coming to you." She elaborated on her thoughts as she pulled the map of the Slane Theocracy over the top of the one detailing Zesshi's description of the fortress layout.
"I'm moving here." She said as she traced her path to the sea. "General Enri is moving here." She said and traced the path from Ikari to Crossroads. "That means you can move southwest, towards Wheaton to join with General Enri, however if you don't mind a suggestion…?" She looked up from the map at Queen Draudillon, who nodded for her to continue. "Why don't you move directly south instead, seize Yaksun and then turn east to capture Fortress Igan on the coast. My ships can catch them in a pincer action and seize the fortress from two sides. They won't expect an attack from the sea, then after that we'll seize what supplies we need, and take ship for the rest of the way south, leaving you free to capture townships all over the eastern area of the Slane Theocracy."
Queen Draudillon looked over her shoulder at her command staff, and Count Cabron approached. "That is a reasonable plan, but that still means two sieges in a row, that is a lot to put on anyone without your prodigious strength. Might I suggest this instead?" He traced his finger along the sea route. "Travel slowly, we leave no survivors here and then our army will march double time to Yaksun, we'll send a double agent to Igan to report our armies are moving towards the city, they'll nearly empty the fortress to rush to its defense, then when you arrive to find it undermanned, you simply capture it with minimal effort in a surprise attack. If they invest Yaksun, then instead of taking the city, we ignore it and begin to capture the surrounding townships. They'll have no choice but to come out and pursue us, then you depart the fortress, and take the now lightly guarded city from behind while we lead their forces around by the nose."
Predatory grins surrounded the table as he laid out the plan.
Zesshi however, wore a small frown. "How long will all that take? My target is the elf kingdom, and long delays will hamper the war in the west." She said hesitantly.
Count Cabron thought it over, "Including the time to march, maybe two weeks, and Fortress Igan has to be taken anyway, they practically control the sea, so if you try to pass them by, they'll send out warnings to every city, fortress, and town in the South that you're coming."
Zesshi's frown deepened. "I suppose we have no choice then. Alright, we'll do as you suggest. By the way, before I came to see you, the rest of my army arrived, so we'll make quick work of the rest of the Forlorn Fortress in the morning."
"A drink then?" Draudillon asked, and gestured to the bottle on a nearby table. Zesshi nodded, and the Marquis went and poured several cups and passed them around, each took a cup in turn and passed it around until no hand was empty.
"To victory, revenge, and tomorrow." Draudillon proposed and raised her cup, they brought their cups together, the vampire elves, the half elf, the blood descendant of a dragon, and her human nobles. They drank, save for Draudillon, who set her cup aside.
Zesshi raised an eyebrow. "You don't care for it?" She asked.
Queen Draudillon shook her head. "The opposite, but, I don't need it anymore."
…Kami Miyako…
Dominic was happy. The wave of terror that had struck the city made everything so much easier for his propaganda about being personally responsible for tracking down the 'serial killer' that had been slaying breakers, burning down brothels, and so on. It was a master stroke, such a simple lie and he'd become as a god to the population, the man who personally slew a 'Black Justice infiltrator'. He snickered as he walked to the council chamber. How much power could come from lying to the ignorant and the fearful? The wave of terror that had passed over the city after that was icing on his cake.
Such was the terror over the nation that the emergency powers act which he promised would ease the way for him to give them victory passed without opposition from the temples and gave him almost absolute authority with no meaningful checks against him. Ginedine and Berenice had opposed the measure alongside Raymond, but sans the support of the temples and the now paranoid population who saw him as the only hope for victory and the great defender of humanity, there was nothing they could do. So it was that Dominic attained the title of 'Great Defender'.
He arrived at the council chamber just as the others were filtering in, and as per their sacred routine they all cleaned and dusted the room, it was the only time they all ever truly worked together anymore. The rest of the time… well part of him missed the collaborative way they were all on the same side, but it was a small part, a mote of dust in a sunbeam, there and then blown out of view by the winds of change. When they were done, they took their seats.
"First item," Dominic said, "from Raymond…?" He said as he looked at the document in surprise. "You're proposing a pay increase for all of us?" That brought some funny, even incredulous looks.
"Not really pay, more like… bonuses, our pay is fixed, but bonuses are certainly deserved and there is nothing that says we cannot have them, and as a rider to this I also propose we register the slave merchants, their stock, and their security and require that any who are deemed to have an insufficient number of guards per lot be levied severe fines for their lax security." Raymond said in a completely reasonable tone of voice.
Dominic, Yvon, Maximillian, Ginedine, and Berenice looked at him with shock. Dominic's face became a sneer as he put his elbows on the table, then drew his hands together, making a pyramid with his fingers and looking down his nose at his 'soft' rival. "Are you serious?" He asked.
"Absolutely." Raymond said.
"Why?" He asked with suspicion. "Surely a sympathizer like you hasn't… come to his senses?" He asked sarcastically.
Raymond mentally sighed, Dominic's soul seemed blacker every day. "It's simple, this is my country and I don't want it to fall to internal rebellion because some idiot skimped on security. Moreover, the increased revenue from fines and fees can cover our bonuses."
"That is a… sensible proposal." Maximillion said reluctantly, "We've raised considerable numbers of soldiers in the last few weeks and have even lightened the city guard, so we have to make sure the slavers do their part to maintain the security of their own property."
Dominic looked at Raymond with lingering suspicion, but he did not flinch, and it was with some reluctance that he agreed with a hesitant bow of his head. "I can see how useful that would be… Alright, vote."
The motion passed unanimously, but Berenice and Ginedine looked daggers at Raymond until the end of the meeting.
That evening when they parted ways, they made a long winding trek to Raymond's home and knocked on the door. An elf answered the door who was smartly dressed in a black outfit and fine shoes. His face, formerly looking stiff, fearful, and formal, lit up when he saw the pair and he swiftly moved aside to grant them entry. For a moment his 'fearful' expression set them at discomfort, however they quickly recognized it was an act when his face relaxed.
"Raymond." They said in unison.
"This way." He replied and lead them to his office.
Within his office was an unexpected sight. His walls were surrounded by a wealth of books, in the back center of the room was a cherry stained desk with a finely made chair on which their comrade sat, reading a document and writing notes with his free hand. What was surprising to them was that along one wall sat a number of small elf and half elf children who were reading in small chairs of their own, while just in front of them a young elf woman waited patiently holding up a sheet of paper.
"What…?" Berenice began with surprise and confusion evident on her face.
Raymond looked up, set down his quill and folded his hands in front of him on the desk. "Cherat, you and the children give us ten minutes, would you?" He asked politely. The elf woman smiled sweetly and called the children to her, shooing them along with a tender wave of her hand. They smiled and waved at Raymond as they filed out, and she closed the heavy wooden door behind her.
"What was that?" Ginedine asked.
"School." Raymond said simply. "What did it look like?" He asked innocently.
"A better question would be… what was that back at the council? Heavier security for the elves? You're going to make life harder on them? This doesn't make any sense?!" Berenice hissed out venomously.
Ginedine nodded sagely, rather calmer than his counterpart. "I thought we'd come to one mind on this, and while I see you harboring many here… that only makes what happened out there more insensible?!" His voice was low and calm, but most emphatic as the words poured out.
Raymond shook his head, "I'm disappointed in you both." He said with a smile that warned them he was only being somewhat sarcastic. "I'm honestly surprised, you didn't think I had a reason for my actions? It's quite simple," he said in the tone of a teacher to a student, "There was no way Dominic was going to increase the price of slaves if I had proposed it, however by imposing this burden on the slave traders and owners and disguising it as a security measure, I have reduced the demand due to the increased cost of ownership. Fewer people will buy slaves, and those who do will bear a higher cost that in turn gets passed into our hands, which means 'we' can secretly buy up more ourselves to see them secured. The paranoia over the possibility of a slave rebellion is unfounded and we all know it, the breakers were very good at their work, there is little to no chance of any mass escapes or anything else, so the increased security doesn't change that at all. Therefore, what it means to us is that they're less likely to buy, and less likely to abuse those they have due to the high cost of ownership. As long as we keep our own purchases secret the cost doesn't change much, plus the high bonuses mean we can purchase and support more of them more easily." He explained, and their angry and confused looks became satisfied expressions.
"Clever." Berenice admitted reluctantly.
"Agreed." Ginedine said happily.
"Yes, I know, I did think of it after all." Raymond said with a bit of mock arrogance in his voice.
"So then, what next?" They asked.
"We get them out." Raymond answered, "We just need a little bit of help from the one figure pissed off enough and powerful enough to help us do it."
AN: Well this was fun, hope you enjoyed it. If you did and you'd like to support the author's (free) projects such as turning this into an audiobook, you can do so at p atreon dot com slash godrising.