The Line of Illeniel

Chapter 35

Two hours later I had finished the bottle. I might have gone for another but I didn’t want to risk leaving my rooms. A knock at the door took the choice from me.

“Go away!” I shouted.

A key turned in the lock and Penny entered, “There’s someone here to see you.” She had a serious tone in her voice.

“Such as?” I said, taking care to slur the words eloquently.

“An emissary from Vendraccus, he came under a white flag,” she answered with a tone of disapproval in her voice. “Have you been drinking?”

“Perhaps,” I said carelessly. “I find it to be invigorating. Tell Dorian to accept his surrender and send them packing.”

“He hasn’t come to surrender and he won’t speak to anyone but you,” she replied, her frown deepening.

“Fine,” I growled. “Clear the hall and have him brought to the high table. I’ll meet him there. Tell Dorian to wear his sword, I don’t want anyone there besides the two of you.”

She gave me a look that spoke volumes. I ignored it and played with the empty bottle. “Are you coming?” she asked.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” I replied casually.

“What sort of minute?” she asked, “The kind that is just a minute, or the sort where we sit around waiting for you to sober up for half an hour?”

I gave her a look of offended innocence. “If you must know… the sort of minute where I empty my overworked bladder, this bottle didn’t just empty itself by magic.” I twirled the bottle in my hands but the effect was spoiled when I dropped it. She slammed the door as she left.

Once the door closed I stood and assessed my balance. It seemed good… at least I was able to walk without needing support. I considered my options and decided the balcony was a bad idea, someone might be below. I didn’t relish a trip to the privies so with a sigh I found the chamber pot. I chuckled when I thought of what Penny would say later.

A few minutes later I entered the great hall and made my way to the high table. Our guest was already seated there and Dorian stood nearby giving the impression he was but moments from committing a crime against hospitality. Penelope stood by the door; apparently she had thought I might need a hand reaching the table. I shrugged off her proffered aid and made it to the table without assistance.

As I walked I made careful note of our visitor. The emissary carried a dark aura around him, much like the one that had cloaked the man who had used my teleportation circle to sneak troops into the castle yard. Considering I was the only known wizard I assumed he was a channeler, much like Marc, though for a different god. I paused to put a shield around Penny and she gasped for a moment when she felt it settle around her.

She met my eyes and I gave her a look that told her I was worried, then I took a seat across from the man who had so boldly come to parlay with us. “Have you had anything to eat? You must be hungry after such a long journey?” I asked him in a mocking tone.

“I am quite satisfied with what you have already provided,” he answered. His voice was far too deep to be normal, which verified my suspicions.

“I don’t recall having fed you, Mal’goroth. That is you isn’t it?” I asked mildly.

“As much of me as this lowly vessel can handle,” the emissary said, gesturing at his body with disdain. “I came to thank you for your work on my behalf.”

His tone rankled, and rage burned through the haze of wine. “I would sooner have two sisters in a whore house as do anything on your behalf. Do not think to anger me with poorly considered insults. You have already lost.”

He laughed and replied, “Oh but you have done my work. Surely you realize how the ‘dark gods’ as you term us, work? We are unable to draw sustenance directly from human worshippers, sacrifices are required. Today has been the greatest sacrifice in the history of your wretched race.”

I hid my dismay, “Your men made their choice when they chose to serve you. I will not feel sorry for them.”

“Some of them, yes. Others had to be persuaded to join the army,” he said, giving me a broad smile.

“It’s all the same to me,” I replied.

“Is it?” he asked. “What if I told you those men’s children are held hostage at my temples in Gododdin?” Whether it was the wine, or shock I couldn’t be sure, but the room swayed when he spoke.

“If you keep pressing your attack here you may not have many followers left,” I said. I could think of nothing better, my mind was still reeling.

“Fool! Kill them all, I care not. Saving your kind has never been my goal. You kill the men, I will kill the children and either way I grow stronger,” he said with growing menace.

“Your men will not follow you if you slay the hostages,” I stated bluntly.

“That is why I only kill the children of those who fall in combat. I reaped a double harvest this day,” he replied with a sickening grin.

I felt ill but I held onto my resolve, “If you hope to undermine my determination you’re sadly mistaken.”

“On the contrary I am here merely to educate you. I find it unsatisfying to destroy an ignorant foe. You should be honored. Not since your ancestor Tirion has one of your kind killed so many in one day,” he replied smugly.

“Who?”

“How quickly mortals forget. Tirion Illeniel was the founder of your line, the man who raised the Elentir Mountains. The man who destroyed my people and who set me on the path that has led me now to you, his great grandson many times removed. Did you think you descended from some noble line? The man was a murderer a thousand times over, he slew almost as many of his own people as he did mine. Genocide is a crime that does not go unpunished.”

“Why tell me this?” I asked.

His eyes lit with joy for a moment. “To remove one final delusion. You think yourself a hero? You are no better than a common thug. You think you fight to save innocent lives? You do nothing but take them. You think me a mad god of a forgotten age? You are right, but I have fought for a thousand years and more to avenge the murder of my people. Your revered ancestor destroyed the truce that existed between the She’har and humanity for generations. He murdered them for nothing more than pride. I tell you this so that you will know you are no better than he was; so that in the end, when despair has overcome you, you will know that you fight for nothing, and after you have passed I will continue my war until every member of your worthless race is gone.”

My face went pale as he spoke, his words hammering into me, showing me the folly of my dreams. I couldn’t accept the truth of what he said, for doing so would have destroyed me. I struggled to find a logical response but I came up empty. I was saved from doing so when Penelope’s sword lashed out, seeming to come from nowhere. Its magically enhanced edge went through the emissary’s shield as if it didn’t exist and seconds later his head fell to the floor, still leering at us. Dorian and I stared at her in shock.

Penny stared boldly back. “He talked too much,” she said and began cleaning her blade with the dead man’s robe.

Her nonchalance broke the darkness that had gripped my heart and I began to laugh. Dorian didn’t see the humor though. “The man was here under a white flag! You can’t… you can’t do that!”

Penelope smiled at him. “You’re just jealous that I thought of it first,” she replied. A knock came at the door before Dorian could reply. I rose and answered it to avoid thinking too deeply about what the emissary had just said.

Marc stood at the entrance, looking like a servant, a tray with food and several mugs of ale in his hands. “I thought you might want to offer our guest something…,” he began, looking over my shoulder. It was obvious he was merely curious since I had left him out of the meeting. His eyes grew round when he spotted the headless corpse on the floor.

“Our ‘guest’ isn’t feeling well,” I told him flatly. “But since you’re inclined to play the servant perhaps you would be so kind as to clean this mess up.” I gestured at the corpse and then eased past him. Penny came up and took one of the mugs of ale.

“Oh that’s very kind of you Marcus,” she said and followed me down the hall.

He stared after us for a moment before returning to the kitchen with his tray, leaving Dorian standing alone in the great hall. Dorian gave the dead man’s body a steady look. “Well damn,” he said to himself.

A few hours later I stood in the castle yard watching Cyhan’s group returning. He reined his horse in beside me and looked down. “You did your work well,” he complimented me. It wasn’t the sort of praise I relished.

“How did it look out there?” I asked.

“At a guess they lost almost eight of every ten of their men. Your magic was most effective. We searched the road for survivors but most were dead before we found them,” he told me.

“Were you able to ride all the way to Arundel?”

“No, there were a few groups of cavalry patrolling, we were forced to return or face a pitched battle. They still outnumber us by a considerable margin,” he informed me. “From what I could see they are reforming in the valley, much as we had hoped.”

I remembered what Mal’goroth had told me and winced inwardly. I couldn’t know how much of what he had told me was true, but the knowledge made my task even harder. “How soon before they’re able to field an effective force?”

Cyhan’s brow furrowed in thought, “It should take them a week at least. Their army is burdened by a large number of wounded. They’ll have to reorganize, sending those unable to fight back to Gododdin. Some of the lightly injured will be kept, if they can fight within a few days.”

“I’m surprised they still have the stomach to fight.”

“Whatever Vendraccus is using to motivate them is highly effective. Any normal army would have routed after today,” Cyhan remarked before leading his horse toward the stables.

I watched him go. Tonight then, I thought. I couldn’t afford to let them reorganize. I went looking for Dorian.

“More bodies for me to dispose of?” he asked me sarcastically when I found him. He was inspecting a group of warriors preparing for the next patrol mission.

Despite my dark mood I chuckled a bit at that. “Not this time, although there are plenty out there that need your expertise,” I gestured at the gate and the road that led toward the valley. “I need to know how many men we have left. I’m planning to destroy the dam tonight, so we’ll want to prepare for a sortie in the morning.”

“Seven hundred and twelve,” he answered promptly. I was surprised at his exact count, but then on second thought I shouldn’t have been. Dorian had always been meticulous, especially when he was worried, which was most of the time. “I’ll have them ready at dawn,” he added.

I nodded. “Where do you plan to scout next?” I asked.

“We’re going to head through the forest to the east, toward Lancaster. We’ll make our way through to the road between here and there,” he replied simply.

“There shouldn’t be any in that direction,” I commented.

“The key word is shouldn’t, ” he said grimly. “It isn’t a word I like to hear when it comes to battle. That word has killed more men than any other word, except perhaps one.” He waited for my inevitable question.

I sighed and asked, “What word is that?”

“Charge,” he replied with a smile.

Dorian left after that, taking fifty riders with him. I hoped they wouldn’t find anything.