Chapter Twenty-One: The Stranger
The Elid River was a sight for sore eyes. Athellenas's men had been marching through endless desert for weeks, now. Oh, there had been supplies of water in the cities they liberated, or the water holes they came across…but none of that even came close to comparing to the Elid River.
It had been three weeks since the victory at Shantay Pass. Sir Derren's covert attack right before dawn had succeeded—the young knight who served as Athellenas's second-in-command had taken a team of soldiers and artillerists behind the Shantay Wall, armed with high-explosive cannon shells. Using those shells, the strike team blew open the gate, allowing the entire 1st Element to pour through like molten lead into a mould.
The horde of Fel-Ungrroth had been devastated by the surprise attack, trampled under the hooves of Sir Havarell's cavalry. The legions quickly caught up and put down the monsters that had survived the cavalry charge.
Several thousand monsters had survived the carnage, and they had fled the Shantay Pass. Sir Havarell's cavalry had chased a good number of them down, but a few still managed to get away.
No matter, though. Let those monsters alert Thammaron that the Centralians were coming for him; the 1st Element was not trying to be stealthy.
After a week's rest to recover from the victory at Shantay Pass, Athellenas got the 1st Element moving once more. The Centralians marched south for a week, making their way through miles of burning, dry desert. Water had to be rationed and conserved, else the army would perish of thirst long before they even came close to Uzer. It had been a hot and miserable march, but the soldiers had done it without too much complaint.
Now, the sight of the Elid River was enough to elicit a deafening roar of cheering and whooping as the soldiers broke ranks and hurried down to the riverbank to refill their canteens.
Athellenas briefly considered trying to reel the men back in, but decided just to let them go. They had been marching a long time, and they deserved a quick rest. In the meantime…
"Gather the command staff," Athellenas ordered Sir Derren, his second-in-command.
Sir Derren gave a quick nod and rode off back into the column to seek the generals, artillery commander, and cavalry commander. Athellenas watched the young knight ride off with a measure of satisfaction.
In the past, most people had always been skeptical of having a knight as young as Derren in a position as high as second-in-command to the Warmaster. Even the soldiers had been wary of being placed under the command of someone so young, afraid that his inexperience would result in unneeded deaths.
No more. Sir Derren had permanently earned his place in the 1st Element after his part in breaching the Shantay Pass Wall. No one ever questioned his courage or inexperience any longer. Athellenas could see the newfound respect for his second-in-command as the soldiers all stepped to the side and gave respectful nods and salutes to him as he rode by.
This was especially good, because it gave Athellenas the secure feeling that, should ill fortune befall him, Sir Derren would be able to take the reins of the 1st Element without any trouble from the very men he would be leading.
Athellenas ended up giving the order to set up camp on the bank of the river. It was only midday, but reaching the Elid had been a milestone in the march to Uzer. Less than ten minutes later, as the soldiers unpacked their tents and started to pitch them, Athellenas met with the command core of the 1st Element in the central command tent.
"Congratulations are in order for us all," Athellenas said to the other commanders. "We have successfully reached the Elid River. Against insurmountable odds, we have so far prevailed. We have accomplished the impossible and survived the unsurvivable. But we are not finished…" the Warmaster took a drink from his water canteen.
"What is the word from Tethys, Warmaster?" General Dhalit, the leader of the X Legion, asked. His question was a good one; the 1st Element had had very little contact with the outside world during their campaign through the Menaphite Desert.
"Nothing warm and fuzzy, I'm afraid," Athellenas sighed. "King Osman sends reports of further unrest in the Hallowlands. The Iceyene are keeping pretty hush-hush about it, but there is definitely something bad happening to the east. I also received word from an old friend that Ullek has been destroyed…Thammaron is now concentrating all of his armies around Uzer. Hell, for all we know he's already taken the city."
"Pardon my interruption, Warmaster," General Dhalit spoke up. "From where I see things, Uzer is lost. Thammaron's hordes have already crossed the Elid River long ago—they must already surround Uzer. By the time we reach the Menaphite capital, it will have surely fallen."
"Perhaps," Athellenas conceded.
"What I'm trying to say is…why are we still out in this desert? There is nothing more we can do for the Menaphites—they have been defeated. We should be returning to Centralia and consolidating our defenses."
"Your reasoning is valid, General," Athellenas nodded approvingly. "But you are looking at this the wrong way. Uzer is not our objective; Thammaron is. If we do not destroy Thammaron and his horde here, in this desert…then we shall have to do it amongst our homes, for Centralia will be his next target. He must be stopped here."
None of the commanders could argue with that reasoning. Much as the soldiers longed for home, none of them would want to be fighting these horrible monsters in the beautiful forests and grasslands of Centralia. Such a war would destroy the kingdom.
"Our first order of business is getting across this river…" Athellenas said, unrolling a map of Gielinor and spreading it flat onto the table, pointing out the thin, winding blue line that was the Elid River. "We must find a way to cross it, otherwise we will have to march south all the way to where it goes underground…about two weeks' march. We do not have the time for such a detour."
"I would imagine that the Menaphites no doubt burned any bridges spanning the river to try to slow Thammaron down," General Sinclair surmised.
"Thammaron would not need to use any bridges, anyway," Sir Derren shrugged. "The Menaphites have only succeeded in slowing us down."
"I propose we send a detachment of my scouts downriver," Sir Havarell suggested, thoughtfully stroking his short, black goatee. "See if there are any nearby fords."
"Agreed," Athellenas nodded. "Do this when we are finished here. If there are no nearby fords, we will have to move south. My only worry is that if we take too long to reach Uzer, Thammaron may have already moved on."
Athellenas cleared up a few more logistics issues with his generals before concluding the council, sending the commanders off to oversee their men, and Sir Havarell to put together a force of scouts to explore the Elid to the south.
The Warmaster went to the place in the encampment where Sir Derren had pitched his tent and quickly set up his own next to that of his second-in-command. When he was finished, he removed his helmet, along with most of his armor, wearing only light cloth shirt and pants that he always wore under his armor for padding.
Athellenas spent the next hour or so washing these clothes—they hadn't been washed since the 1st Element had left Shantay Pass. He did this at one of the supply wagons, where the head quartermaster kept a gigantic washboard which was being utilized by a dozen other soldiers as well as Athellenas.
The Warmaster's clothes dried incredibly quick under the hot desert sun. He quickly got dressed in his tent, donning a leather vest and a belt. He sat down and pulled his ebony pipe, which he had gotten out of Onyx's saddlebags. For a short while he just relaxed in front of his tent, leaning against Onyx, who was resting on his stomach in the sand. The steady rhythm of the battlehorse's breathing helped calm Athellenas down.
"Good evening, Warmaster Athellenas," a voice suddenly said, jerking Athellenas out of his rest.
Athellenas, whom common soldiers respected, but rarely spoke to, was curious to see who would approach him. He knew that it was not one of his generals or auxiliary commanders—he would have recognized the voice. This voice was unfamiliar.
Athellenas opened his eyes, looking at the owner of the voice. It was a thin, rather average-looking man with red hair and a short red beard. He wore a small, angled hat that had two red-and-white feathers sticking out of the back, almost like horns. He also had eyes that were an odd shade of brown. Athellenas had never seen him before. He certainly hadn't accompanied the 1st Element from Centralia.
Athellenas instinctively glanced at his sword, which was lying within arm's reach.
The stranger noticed the movement and laughed quietly. "I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me, Warmaster," the red-haired man spread his hands wide. "If I wished you harm, you would have been dead before you could have had the chance to lay eyes on me."
"How do you know my name?" Athellenas decided to ask, figuring it was a safe enough question to spark a conversation with this mysterious man.
"You've made quite a name for yourself around these parts, Athellenas," the stranger replied. "Thammaron himself knows of you. He knows how you killed the five-tailed demon, and he is looking forward to spilling your blood."
Athellenas tensed. Was this man an enemy? "Are you in league with-"
The stranger stepped forward and crouched down in front of Athellenas, coming level with the Warmaster's face. "I most certainly am not," the stranger whispered. "You are brave, Warmaster. Your men are brave as well, but you are leading them to a slaughter. All you shall find in Uzer is your destruction. Thammaron cannot be defeated by steel and gunpowder. You will need my help."
"Are you a mage?" Athellenas inquired.
The stranger stood back up, taking a step away from the Warmaster. His mouth curved in a half-smile. "Of a sort," the red-aired man answered cryptically. "Half a mile down the riverbank, there is a grove of palm trees. Be there tonight when the moon reaches its zenith. Come alone."
And with that, the stranger was gone, walking off behind the nearest tent and mingling with the throng of soldiers. When Athellenas sprang to his feet to pursue the man, he could not find him. It was as if he had never been there at all.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Sir Derren asked the Warmaster as he slipped into his armor. Athellenas had told Derren about his encounter with the red-haired stranger. Derren had been against Athellenas's going to meet this stranger, but the Warmaster disagreed with his second-in-command.
"If he wished to harm me, he could have already done so," Athellenas replied. "And he was right; we are heading towards slaughter. I have been driving myself crazy trying to think of a way to take down Thammaron that wouldn't result in most of our deaths, but…" the Warmaster sighed, strapping his sword to his belt. "This man says he can help. What sort of leader would I be if I did not investigate a possible way to save some of my men's lives?"
"At least let me come with you," Sir Derren tried to compromise, but Athellenas shook his head.
"I must go alone," the Warmaster asserted. He strode out of his tent and whistled to Onyx. The gray and white steed trotted forward, rising from his resting place. Athellenas swung himself into the saddle. "Hold down the fort whilst I am away," he said to Derren before digging his heels into Onyx's flank, spurring the horse forward.
A full moon hung high in the sky, surrounded by the star-sprinkled black void of the night sky. Onyx moved forward at a steady canter, just shy of a full gallop. The waters of the Elid moved with him, the moonlight reflecting off of the surface, like the Gods themselves were shining a lamp over the river.
Sure enough, after a few minutes' ride, a grove of palm trees came into view. It was one of the many patches of vegetation that existed along the banks of the river. As he had indicated, the stranger was sitting cross-legged in the middle of this grove, deep in meditation.
Athellenas brought Onyx down to a slow trot, and then a full halt. He didn't bother tethering the horse to one of the trees; Onyx never willingly wandered too far from his master, unless Athellenas specifically ordered him to.
The Warmaster's fingers brushed the hilt of his sword as he walked towards the stranger, but he forced himself to remain calm. The stranger had no reason to harm him now when he could have done it back at his tent.
"I am glad you have come," the stranger said, not moving from his meditating position. "Good leaders know when they need help. Excellent leaders are the ones who actively pursue it, choosing it over any sense of misguided personal pride."
"I would never admit it to my men, but you were right," Athellenas confessed, standing behind the stranger. "This whole time, we have been marching to Uzer. What we would do once we got there, once we clashed with Thammaron…" Athellenas shook his head. "I've been agonizing over it for a long time, but I do not know how to bring him down without getting all of my men killed in the process. If you know of a way to avoid such a bloodbath…"
Athellenas hesitated, and then—as an act of trust—unsheathed his sword and dropped it off to the side.
The stranger, recognizing the act of trust, opened his eyes. Athellenas now saw that the stranger's eyes were not some odd shade of brown—they were actually a deep red. The stranger turned around to face Athellenas, getting up to his feet. "You play a dangerous gamble, disarming yourself in this way. I am a stranger who, before today, you have never known. A stranger whose motives still remain unknown to you. Either you are extremely intelligent, or just plain stupid. I am willing to lean towards 'intelligent'. You would trust me?"
"Can I afford not to?"
The stranger gave a low laugh. "No. You cannot," he chuckled. "I like you, Warmaster. I don't meet many men like you, but when I do...when I do, I consider it a treat."
"Let us talk, then," Athellenas gestured for the man to sit back down, doing so himself. "How do we take down Thammaron?"
"You don't," the stranger replied. Before Athellenas could say anything, the red-haired man held up a hand, preventing the Warmaster from speaking, and clarified. "Killing Thammaron and defeating his horde will be my job."
"You?" Athellenas raised a curious, but skeptical eyebrow. "By yourself?"
"It'll be an exercise, I admit, but perfectly within my ability," the stranger said. "I can see that you do not believe that I can defeat them all. Well, I can understand that, but in this matter, you shall have to trust me. Killing Thammaron is my job."
"Alright…" Athellenas scrutinized the man with new eyes. He was a straight-talker, and he hadn't lied yet. Athellenas detected no lie in the man's voice and expression as he spoke, so there was a strong possibility that he was telling the truth. The Warmaster had no idea how this strange man would take down Thammaron's entire horde, but if he said he could…
"What do you need from me, then?" Athellenas asked, getting straight to the point. "If you are perfectly capable of taking down Thammaron by yourself, then you would have done so already. Obviously, I need you to keep my men alive. But you must need my assistance as well…else you would have had absolutely no reason to approach me."
"You're smarter than you look, Warmaster; has anyone ever told you that?" the stranger nodded, a note of respect in his voice that hadn't been there a second ago. "Yes, I do need the assistance of your men. Uzer has already fallen."
"Uzer is gone?" Athellenas exclaimed. The Warmaster bit his lip nervously—he had not expected the great Menaphite city to fall so quickly.
"Well, no, it's not gone," the stranger corrected the Warmaster. "The city remains, just without the people who lived in it. They are all dead, or scattered. The city itself is now occupied by Thammaron and his hordes…nearly a million of the monsters from your deepest, darkest nightmares, all of them burning Uzer down and thirsting for a bite of your army. You wouldn't last an hour against them all."
"So where do I come in?"
"You need me to defeat Thammaron and his horde," the stranger reiterated, scratching the red scruff on his chin. "But I need you to get me inside the city. Thammaron has enchanted the walls of Uzer to keep the likes of me out. Members of my kind cannot get past those particular enchantments."
"So you need my men to breach the wall so that you can get inside?"
The stranger nodded. "Precisely."
Athellenas rose to his feet, extending a hand to the stranger. "I suppose we have a deal, then."
"I suppose so," the stranger agreed, shaking Athellenas's hand. "I believe you need a way to cross the river, so, as an act of good faith..." the stranger walked over to the riverbank, sank into a sturdy, dense stance, closed his eyes, and raised his hands. Athellenas felt a buzzing sensation, knowing that the stranger was invoking magic.
The surface of the river began to bubble and the ground rumbled slightly. Athellenas watched in awe as the man raised an entire bridge of earth out from the bottom of the river, stretching all the way to the opposite bank. It was wide enough for a score of men to walk abreast of each other. It would be perfect for crossing the Elid. It also must not have been a solid wall of earth, because the river still continued to flow under it.
With that done, the stranger took a deep breath and composed himself, turning away and walking off into the shadows.
"Wait!" Athellenas called after the stranger just before he disappeared into the night. The red-haired man stopped, turning his head to the side so he could hear the Warmaster's question. "I never got your name, stranger. Who are you?"
The stranger hesitated, obviously considering whether or not he should give away his identity. He decided to go ahead and do it. What did he have to lose? "I am known by many names among your kind," the stranger said. "But you may call me Azzanadra."