Well, I know it has been an insanely long time but I think, just maybe I'm coming back to this story. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: The usual drill, I only own the cool bits.

FLAWLESS EVIL

The Beginnings of a Mighty Plan

The bells rang throughout Belisaere, from every watch tower and church steeple, and in every cookery's baking house. Wherever there was a bell to be rung it was ringing and it was the middle of the night.

All across the city people rang the bells, shouted and caroused on Reece's order. The white-mancer in contrast stood in the commandeered royal bedchamber, a room which he had little taste for but one which he had retreated to because it was mercifully soundproof, or almost.

The city had had a noticeable decline in its population during the capture, however the stores of alcohol hadn't. Having an unruly city behind him was no way to launch a conquest of the known world and so he had decreed a festival of the bells, essentially the first thing that had sprung to mind, as an excuse to make the people more cheerful, and with the reduced person to alcohol ratio the populous seemed to be having a right good time.

While this went on his more trustworthy people that had come with him out of the north went about making certain repairs and 'improvements' to the city which would otherwise have disrupted the people.

With them all drunk and disorderly though it was easy to slip a few things past them, things which otherwise would have been met with general outcry, such as the construction of certain thoroughfares for the dead, small tunnels or adjustments which allowed grave dirt to be placed strategically to give his undead minions access to the city despite the aqueducts.

Opening the door and allowing some of the cacophony into the room Leif and Knut, mainly messenger boys for now, entered a wildly excited look in their eyes.

"It's done, it's done!"

Reece almost smiled, but didn't. It wouldn't do to let on how he found their existence amusing. Gesturing imperiously with one hand he follows them out down and down to the lake beneath the palace.

Here a crude, but most likely effective, construction of wood had been set up over and around the charter stones. It was not complete but it was a framework that would suffice.

There were several workers down here still, and some of them the more talented users of the Charter that had been marked and recruited, but Reece dismissed them all with a glance.

As they sloshed out and slowly made their way back up to the palace proper Reece circled the construct slowly, checking to make sure nothing was out of place. It was only basic but it had to be right.

Finding something slightly amiss he utters a harsh word, slamming the flat of his hand against on of the stubborn planks of wood which lay off-kilter on the edge of the charter stone. With a violent grinding sound it jumped sideways, shaking the whole frame before sliding almost smoothly into the right spot.

Satisfied Reece finished his circle, checking briefly that the cave was deserted before raising his hands and exhaling.

He doesn't speak but a fine mist seems to flow out with his breath, like the puff of your breath on a cold morning. But unlike warm breath it did not rise, it fell.

Stealthily it crept across the gradually stilling surface of the water, spreading progressively until it had surrounded the construct and filled the space within the ring of stones. Then, with faint tendrils first, it began to flow up the wooden beams of the construct as if it were water running down but in reverse.

Up from each of the carter stones it rises until it flows into the geometric pattern above the ring and begins to drip down in fine trails to rejoin the mist at the water's surface.

Now water begins to flow within the mist and across the structure until it is a vast shimmering gazebo of water weaving shapes and patterns.

Finally Reece speaks, another single free magic syllable and in an instant the entire structure snap-freezes, as well as the water around the stones, creating a plinth of ice in which the stones are embedded, a majestic structure hanging delicate and white above it.

Reece smiles.

There is no crack of frost, with everything frozen already, as Kaddison and the two twin girls appear, having travelled bodily through death.

Reece's secret weapon had arrived.

Sameth stood upon a plinth in the main square of high-bridge, just watching. Over the last couple of days he had become somewhat obsolete, not being experienced, as the generals and guard captains took over final preparations. Most of the army that was likely to come had already come, stragglers could stay behind to guard high-bridge in the case of an attack, though the city was rather well defended, both by its natural position and its magical defences.

Final wagons were being packed and what there was of the southern 'army' was packing up its tents outside the city skirts.

Sameth had to admit it was pretty impressive, to him anyway, though he'd never seen an army mobilised but he couldn't conceive of a force which could beat these men. With the sun shining and their armour glinting they looked like a force to be reckoned with.

He started suddenly as a hand touched his arm, spinning to find the captain of the high-bridge guard.

"My lord, your friend is waiting for you with the royal escort. All will be ready to depart shortly and you should head out to join the troops before the wagon shift clogs the streets."

Eyeing the man shrewedly he says, "Nick you mean? Just cause he's from Ancelstierre doesn't mean he bites, use his name."

He wasn't actually sure why that annoyed him but it did. Without acknowledging the captain further he turns and starts walking towards the escort stables, they'd leave for the sea by the afternoon and then march north to Belisaere, hopefully avoiding possible ambushes in the forest. It was going to be a long week.

So yes, if you ever want to see another chapter R&R!

Hehe, on another note love you for reading this. See ya next time (hopefully).