Date: Sun, 1 Jul 2001 19:50:51 EDT From: Bwstories8@aol.com Subject: Sword of Kings - chapter 13 Legal Notice: The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts. The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality. Don't read this story if: **You're not 18 or over, **If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live, **Or if you don't want to read about gay/bi people in love or having sex. The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this story on a website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's permission is a violation of that copyright. Legal action will be taken against violators. I wish to extend my thank you to Ed for his editorial assistance with this chapter. If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at http://members.tripod.de/wolfslair, in the 'Other Stories' section. E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive' comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com. * * * * * * * * The Sword of Kings-by BW (Fantasy/Sci. Fi.). Copyright 2000 by billwstories Chapter 13 - The armies take shape. January 2001 Madumda had not aged as well as the younger Beraut, and his appearance made him look considerably older than the only other survivor of the Council of Wizards. Where Beraut's hair was totally white and flowing, giving him a very commanding aura, Madumda's locks had a very unappealing yellowish tint covering the gray strands, and his head was an unkempt mass of tangles and snarls. His face also seemed to be more haggard than that of his slightly younger peer, and the creases on his forehead and cheeks were not only more plentiful, but also more deeply furrowed. The sorcerer was busy going over his own plans in preparation for the upcoming battle and what he knew would be his impending victory. This would allow him to declare himself the unchallenged ruler of the land and he would finally become the sole sovereign, leading the land as he saw fit. Treblanc had also fared poorly during this time, having fallen into a state of decay and disrepair since the Dark Lord had claimed it as his own. It was not deteriorated so completely that the former magnificence of the fortress could not be identified though, and it was still evident that this had once been a place of great power and significance. Though it was currently dank, musty, and in desperate need of a cleaning, the casual onlooker would still be impressed by how the thick, imposing blocks of stone had been aligned to form tight seals and provide a smooth, even look to both the interior and exterior of the building. The elaborately carved beams that supported the vaulted ceiling in the public rooms were still impressive and the intricately carved furnishings, that once filled this structure, were now strewn in a helter-skelter fashion throughout. Truly the Council of Wizards must have been a powerful and highly influential force in Tarolian political and social spheres to have been housed in such an imposing edifice. As Madumda continued his activities, a man dressed in dark, flowing robes crossed the room and addressed his master. He was obviously one of the Dark Lord's advisors and he was hurriedly discussing a matter of some importance with his evil master. Madumda was apparently not in agreement with his underling's assessment of the situation, as his brow was wrinkled above his crooked nose and his hair, beard, and moustache were flying wildly from side-to-side, as the practitioner of black magic shook his head in disagreement. "But, Lord Madumda, I suggest that we should be more cautious in our planning. Wouldn't it be more prudent to leave our spies in place and post additional troops at various strategic points? That would help to prevent against surprise attacks or to deter any clandestine attempt to regain control of the Sword of Kings?" "Why would they seek the Sword when they have no one to wield it? I have disposed of all of Ethelbert's heirs, no matter how distant their relationship to him, so there is no one left to fulfill that blasted prophecy. The Sword is of no use to them without a champion to bear it forth, and I have made sure that no such person exists any longer." "But, my Lord, won't you concede the possibility that you may have overlooked some insignificant heir of Ethelbert, one whom they might use to bring that dreaded prophecy to fruition?" "Impossible! You worry more than my old wet nurse, Drac. I spent numerous years using my magic to ferret out and destroy anyone who might have filled the role of my assassin, as that old oracle had predicted so long ago. I even spent many months after the last heir was disposed of, to make sure that none still remained hidden in this land. I have scanned every inch of this kingdom and I am convinced that no heir of Ethelbert remains to challenge me." "But couldn't Beraut or the elves be using their magic to shield such a threat?" "I considered that possibility years ago and I have had spies placed strategically within all areas that I was denied direct access to when using my magic. I have had spies looking for any signs that such a person existed, but there have never been any reports of such honored guests in any realm that I could not scan with my powers. I'm sure that if such an heir existed, he would be continually guarded or living in a formidable sanctuary, but no reports of anything of this nature has ever been delivered to me. Therefore, I'm confident that no such person remains alive to threaten my claim to power and I am ready and willing to make my next move. Now, carry out my orders immediately or you shall see for yourself what I do to those who stand in my way." "Master, I support you completely, but please reconsider. If we call in all of our operatives, we will have no one left to alert us of any acts of treachery carried out by our enemies. Please, I beseech you to leave half of them in place, so they will be able to apprise us of anything out of the ordinary." "We do not have the time or the manpower for such frivolous precautions. I will need every fighting man possible for the upcoming battle and I need to start assembling these forces together, posthaste. We must organize our troops into fighting units, designate the command structure, and ascertain that each warrior understands his duties, rather than waste our time worrying about phantoms coming out of the woodwork or analyzing any desperate acts that our enemies might make. If we do not prepare adequately, it will make it even more difficult for us destroy the opposition. I want our victory to be swift and decisive, totally crushing those who oppose us. Above all else, I do not wish for this opportunity to be squandered or my opportunity to seize control of Tarolia to be delayed any longer. I'm not going to let any nay-sayer make me lose my focus just when my prize is within my reach. My time is at hand and I will not allow you to diminish my chances or cast aspersions on our ability to succeed. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes, my Lord. I shall do as you have ordered, but would you at least consider doubling the guard around Treblanc?" "I thought I just made my position clear," Madumda screamed, his face turning crimson, his eyes bulging from their sockets, and his nostrils flaring. "You have my orders, now carry them out before I have you dragged off and fed to one of my pets. They are sufficient enough guards to prevent those things that you dread so greatly. Now be off with you before I decide that I prefer you better without your head." The advisor showed a sudden trace of fear on his face, but he bowed deeply before he backed out of the room, his body trembling visibly as he left. He knew that his master was quite capable of doing such things and he knew better than to tempt fate, even though he was convinced the Dark Lord was wrong about this matter. Nonetheless, he comforted himself by thinking that discretion was the better part of valor, because he knew that Madumda had ordered his spies and messengers executed for merely bringing him bad news and that he had cooks and servants disemboweled for serving him food that disagreed with him. No, he would leave things as he had been ordered, though he was certain that he was still correct in his assessment of the situation. After his advisor had left the chamber, the merciless mage began to paw through a collection of maps, diagrams, and an assortment of other papers, as he continued to prepare for this final confrontation before he could declare himself the Supreme Ruler of Tarolia. He was so close to realizing his long held goal that he could almost taste the sweet flavor of victory, and the corners of his mouth began to curl as a slight grin formed on his lips. Madumda was allowing himself to enjoy a slight distraction, something he seldom did, as he thought about claiming the prize that had eluded him for so long. While the Dark Lord made his final preparations for the engagement, he let his mind drift forward in time, and he pictured himself at his moments of triumph, first as the victorious conqueror leading his troops into Leander and then at his coronation, when he was being hailed as the Supreme Ruler of the land. While his liege was enjoying this distraction, the advisor was busily preparing the appropriate documents to recall all of their co-conspirators to Treblanc, though he knew the recall would take a minimum of several days to accomplish. He ordered all of the messengers to perform their task with the utmost urgency, knowing that he'd face unmentionable consequences if they did not perform these tasks quickly enough to please his master. In order to impress on them the need for speed, he told them of the punishment they would face if they did not carry out their duties with the appropriate haste. As the messengers departed from the fortress, the Dark Lord's advisor allowed himself some time to enjoy his own moments of leisure, as he took a brief rest until his master summoned him again. Madumda was still poring over the various documents strewn across the scattered collection of tables and chairs, trying to determine if there was anything else he could do to ensure his success. Over the years he had devised various plans, secured many allies, and incorporated many safeguards into his preparations for this day, but he knew there was always a chance that he might discover some minute oversight he had made or he would think of something new that would improve his situation. He was not about to come this close to claiming his prize, only to see it slip through his fingers just before it was completely within his grasp. He was even reconsidering his advisor's previous arguments, only to conclude that he had thoroughly eliminated any and all of Ethelbert's bloodline, thus making the prophecy just a collection of meaningless words now. There was little, if anything, that anyone could do to stop him at this point, including that upstart Beraut. Even though his only remaining brother mage had matured, developing his powers and skills over the intervening years, he was still no more than a minimal challenge to Madumda's awesome combination of powers, powers that he had stolen from his other brothers when he had destroyed them so long ago. No, the Dark Lord was convinced of his own invulnerability and now he only longed to have bestowed upon him the title for which he was destined. Madumda had even re-evaluated the circumstances of his only setback thus far, the slaughter of one of his patrols that scouted the Citadel Mountains and watched the High Pass for activity. Another patrol had chased the suspected assassins into Briarwood and then waited to make sure they didn't re-emerge. He was not certain that their fate was sealed there, but knowing the reputation of that woodland, he was confident that they would pay, in kind, for their audacity. Although he couldn't account for their presence in that area or justify the assortment of warriors reported within that group, over time he concluded that it was just a rogue band attempting to hinder his rise to power. Now he had to ask himself how much longer such insignificant fools would attempt such petty deeds before they acknowledged his unequaled power and ended their futile attempts at trying to stop him or delay the inevitable. Now Madumda began to add up the numbers he had received from his spies over the past few weeks, calculating the size of the force he would be opposing. Once this simple tally had been made, Madumda flashed a vile grin, as he realized that his numbers were far superior to his opponent's, even without figuring in one of the little surprises he had kept secret from everyone, including his advisors and military leaders. His pets would also add to this surprise, making it virtually impossible for the opposition to defeat him. He would savor his victory when it came and he would seek out the heads of Beraut and the leaders of the races who had stood against him, to show how he deals with those who resist him. He would also use their execution to alert others to the type of punishment any future rebellion would bring to those who led or participated in such an activity. To emphasize this point, he was planning to mount the heads of the allied leaders on pikes along the outer walls of Treblanc, to signify his total domination of the land and further deter any other challenges to his authority. Before he went to bed that evening, Madumda made his final mental scan of the surrounding areas, looking for any unusual activity. He let his mind scan the countryside for several leagues in nearly every direction from his fortress, but he focused mainly on those areas where any likely treachery might originate, in partial consideration to his advisor's earlier admonishment. When he was satisfied that nothing was amiss and no subterfuge was being employed, the Dark Lord took the opportunity to get some rest and rejuvenate his strength before he was called upon to utilize his enormous bag of tricks. As he crawled into his bed and settled in under the collection of quilts that covered him, Madumda let his body surrender into the realm of peaceful oblivion. His slumber was dreamless, but refreshing, and he enjoyed a rare lapse in his nearly constant vigilance, a small pleasure that he finally permitted himself to indulge in. * * * * The following morning at Valeda, Beraut awoke before the servant came to rouse him. The wizard had a very restless night and hadn't slept much, due to his concerns for the young prince and his companions. Even now, he was trying to mentally focus on the group, anxious to learn anything about their situation and their well-being. The few dreams he had experienced, during the limited amount of sleep he had been able to enjoy, had been disturbing scenarios concerning their present situation and he wished to learn the truth, if only to assuage his fears. Try as he might, all he could do was conjure up scenes similar to the ones he had seen during his previous attempts, which only unsettled him further. This only caused the wizard to scrutinize the reasons behind his inability to check in on them, but this only lead to more questions than answers. His first concern was that Madumda had found out about them and was therefore blocking Beraut's attempts or that the sorcerer held them prisoners in a facility designed to keep Beraut from scanning his charge. Beraut shuddered at the thought of such possibilities, realizing that would mean that his wicked brother already knew of their plans and about Kieren's existence. It would also mean that he had stopped their attempt to regain the sword and that he held the fate of the young prince in his hands. No! Beraut could not accept this as being true. There must be some other possibility, something simple and less devastating, something the mage had overlooked. Surely there must be some other rationalization for his inability to make meaningful contact with them, but what? He was struggling with this very question when the servant knocked quietly on the door, summoning him to awaken, get dressed, and join his host for breakfast. Beraut responded to the call, advised the servant he would be done shortly, and then he went about preparing himself to join the others. When he felt that he was presentable, the seer opened the door and stepped into the hallway. There he met King Brolin and Captain Baith, who were also ready to head to the dining area. After exchanging the customary pleasantries concerning their previous night's rest, they strolled together along the corridor and down the staircase, following the servant to join Magistrate Odilon. As they entered the room they discovered, much to their surprise, a most sumptuous meal. "It appears that you and your staff have gone to great extremes this morning," commented the King. "Yes, and although it is greatly appreciated," added the wizard, "it certainly was not necessary." "It is my honor to do this for you," replied Odilon. "It is not often that I have such distinguished guests in my home." "Well, I'm not sure how distinguished we are, with the exception of King Brolin, of course" chortled the mage, "but I would like to offer my humble thanks for your graciousness and generosity. I'm sure that I might be so forward as to speak for my dwarf companions, as well." The other two nodded their agreement, mumbling some phrases of consent to Beraut's comments, and then they turned their attention from the magician to the magistrate. "Don't be shy," Odilon encouraged them. "Please help yourself to anything here and, if you can't find what you're looking for, just let me know what it is that you desire. If it is within my power to do so, I shall see that it is provided for you." "I'm sure that won't be necessary, your Lordship," came Baith's humble reply, "for there is enough here already to feed not only us, but also my staff as well." They all shared a brief snicker concerning this last comment and then helped themselves to a delightful breakfast. When they had finished gorging their already overstuffed bellies, they sat back and lit their pipes. While enjoying a leisurely smoke, they began to discuss their plans for the upcoming campaign. "I know it was a bit presumptuous on my part," the wizard began, "but I did take the liberty to dispatch some of your servants as messengers, my dear magistrate, to advise both of our armies of our intentions. I have ordered that both groups be prepared to march within the hour, which by now is nearly up." Beraut paused briefly to take another long draw on his pipe stem, and then he slowly exhaled the smoke into the air above him, before he took a breath of fresh air and continued again. "I will be leaving immediately after we finish here to travel to the Plains of Asimae, so I may assist the Central Army. You, on the other hand, will organize here and then move out to join up with that same army as it marches northward to meet the enemy. If you conduct a forced march as soon as you ferry your troops across the River Sterling, you should be able to join up with the rest of us sometime around nightfall. As soon as you have been successfully merged with those forces, we shall hold our final planning session, in case intelligence reports dictate that we should make any changes or modifications to our strategy. We must pay careful attention to how our troops are assigned and how we appear to match up with the enemy. We must be sure to focus upon even the most minute details of our battle plan and be certain that is the best we can do, for the Dark Lord will leave us no room for error. "It will take another day's march to get near enough to Madumda's troops to engage in battle, so that will probably not happen until the day after tomorrow. That will be the fourth day since I parted company with Master Kieren and, if all has gone well for him, he should have reached Treblanc and will have finished with the first part of his assignment, recovering the Sword. That could happen any time, from now until the battle begins in earnest, though there is always the possibility that it could happen even later, if the companions should encounter any major difficulties along the way. If the gods favor our cause, however, it will happen before the battle has commenced and before the bloodshed has started." "That would certainly be the most auspicious timing for us," interrupted Captain Baith, " and it would save many lives on both sides, but I think the chance of that happening is highly unlikely. If this battle does become inevitable, as it now appears it will, much Tarolian blood will be shed and the flower of her youth and her future strength will be forever lost upon that battlefield. This encounter is certain to live in the minds of all the races of this fair land no matter the outcome. It will be remembered in glory if we are victorious and in infamy if we are defeated. Should the Dark Lord prevail, our ineffectiveness will condemn the survivors and all of our descendants for many generations to come, forcing them to lead lives plagued by misery and repression. For that reason, we must renew our conviction to this cause, so the uniqueness and well-being of this kingdom shall survive forever." "Very well spoken, my young friend," came Beraut's immediate reply. "I did not realize that King Brolin had such powerful orators in command of his troops." The wizard paused for effect. "No wonder the dwarfs have always been such formidable warriors. With speeches such as that, your soldiers would be inspired to defend the realm from even the most tenacious and ferocious foes, or they would be energized sufficiently to go forth and conquer the uncivilized portion of the world, if they were so inclined." "I agree wholeheartedly with you, Master Beraut," came Magistrate Odilon's comment, "and I suggest that you let this young man address the combined troops under your command on the eve of the battle. He could stir their passions, ignite their blood to boil, and lift their spirits to such a level that they would march into the depths of hell itself to defend their homeland. With the effects of such an inspiring challenge, many of the soldiers would probably feel competent to defeat Madumda himself in hand-to-hand combat." Captain Baith's complexion now turned to a nice rosy hue, due to this unsolicited testimonial about his oratorical skills. He had not spoken in order to gain recognition, but did it mainly for his own benefit. He needed to verbalize his feelings about the possible severity of this conflict and the untold harm it could generate, though he was pretty sure this had already been taken into consideration. But there was more than just that. It wasn't just that he was concerned about loss of life or the fact that Madumda would be in charge if victorious, but it was the countless little ways that things would change that bothered him most. If the Dark Lord ruled the land, many would be forced to flee the country in order to survive. They would have to reside in one of the adjoining kingdoms, but that would be the same as their homeland and, chances are, it would not protect them completely anyway. Madumda would probably try to expand his influence and power further, by trying to conquer and absorb all the other countries adjoining Tarolia, so stopping him here and now was imperative. If Captain Baith had realized that he would have gained such unwanted attention for his remarks, however, he would have remained silent. "Do not be embarrassed, my good Captain," came King Brolin's comforting words, snapping the young officer back from his thoughts. "You have just been paid one of the highest and most sincere compliments that could have been accorded to you. These honest souls were not making a jest at your expense, and they were merely acknowledging your extraordinary gift for being able to inspire the greatest levels of allegiance from those around you and your ability to motivate others. With a few well-chosen words, you are capable of elevating an ordinary soldier into a fighting demon. Commander Elgin and I have long been aware of this talent and it has helped you to get to where you are today. You should be extremely proud to possess such ability, and you should be thankful that you are able to use this gift to your advantage." Slowly Captain Baith glanced around at the others, searching their faces before he began to speak. "I believe that you accord me a greater honor than I deserve. I will do whatever I am ordered to, although I do not thoroughly agree with your inflated assessment of my abilities. I do not believe that I possess or can summon the qualities that you have graciously claimed that I am endowed with, but I am a humble servant of my King. Therefore, whatever talents I have are at your disposal." Each of those present made a personal comment or gesture meant to reassure Captain Baith of their sincerity: a quick slap on the back, a simple word of admiration, or the firm grip of a handshake. When each had made their feelings known and the young dwarf officer began to feel more at ease with his newfound status within the group, they turned their attention back to the situation at hand. "I believe we should be on our way," came Beraut's matter-of-fact statement. "Each of you should join your troops and assemble at the ferry, where you will cross the River Sterling. While you are making your preparations for departure, I will be on my way to organize the Central Army. It is time that we make all haste to keep to the timetable that I laid out for you earlier. Gods' speed and good fortune to you all." The wizard made his way to each individual, making some personal comment to him before he moved on. When he had spoken this way to everyone in attendance, he left the room and began the next leg of his journey. After Beraut left the meeting, he headed straight for the stable, to collect the mount that Magistrate Odilon was so generously providing for him. He soon discovered that It was a mighty beast, very sleek, yet muscular, and it could rival any another horse he had every ridden. If the wizard's judgment of horseflesh was correct, this animal was capable of galloping at great speeds for very long distances, while simultaneously carrying a considerable load. It would be an honor to travel upon such a fine creature. The stable-boy already had the animal saddled and ready for him by the time he arrived, so the mage lifted his left foot, stuck it in the stirrup, swung himself onto its back, and together they raced toward the river. Beraut reached the ferry long before either army had a chance to even form up, and he quickly boarded it to make his way to the far shore. When the ride was over, he thanked and tipped the boatmen for the swift crossing, and then he forewarned them about their upcoming task before setting out at a full gallop toward his destination. He traveled in a southwesterly direction, heading toward the rendezvous point they had previously agreed upon, wishing to reach there and get things organized before everyone else arrived. The time flew by quickly, as the magician and his mount sped across the plains, and he was making very good time. It must have been strange sight as he and his mount galloped by, with his hair and beard whipping over his shoulder and his robes flowing behind him as they went. It was about an hour before midday when he first noticed a movement in the distance, which he soon attributed to a great wave of warriors tramping their way north. Even from here he could tell that they were trampling the sea of vegetation under their boots as they moved forward, leaving this telltale trace of their passing in their wake. The wizard gently guided his horse on a course that would intercept this army, angling toward a spot just a short distance in front of where they were now. As his mount continued forward, this time having slowed to a brisk canter, the perimeter scouts noticed his approach and went back to inform their superiors. After identifying the horseman as Beraut, those in charge rode out to meet and greet him. The mage saw them approaching and rode directly toward them, shouting his greetings. "Hail, my friends. You have made good progress and we should be able to make camp upon the Central Plains this evening. I see that you, like the dwarfs, were unable to keep the old war horses in the barn." He released a muffled chuckle after saying that, while the others shyly glanced in the direction of the duo to whom Beraut was referring. At the same time, King Dylan and Balaster Rombaire were trying to formulate their own retort for the wizard. "And to whom are you referring as old war horses, you prehistoric fossil?" began Rombaire. "Besides, there was absolutely no way I would miss participating in this conflict. You should know me well enough by now to realize that I was not about to sit at home and play nursemaid to the children or sit and embroider with the women, while all the able-bodied men were going off to fight. I am willing to endure the same hardships and face the same dangers as any other patriot who is willing to defend our nation." "As for me, you old goat," added Dylan, "I am a King, not some decrepit, sleepy old watchdog who is left to lie around the dwelling under the pretense of doing his job. If Tarolia is to be won or lost with this battle, then I choose to be part of that process." "Spoken like the true leaders I know you both to be. I'm sure that we will all benefit from your presence and that you will prove to be great assets to our cause. Now, what news do you bring me?" "Nothing of great importance," responded Balaster Rombaire. "Our scouts have reported that the enemy has formed just south of the mouth to the Devil's Horseshoe and that, according to their calculations, the enemy's strength is as it was reported at the Second Council of War." "Aye, Master Beraut," chimed in General Daveel, "and no scouts have reported seeing Madumda anywhere in that camp. It is believed that he is still holed up at Treblanc, for what reasons we cannot conjecture, but that means they are not ready to wage battle just yet. They would not dare do such a thing without him, nor do I think he would allow them. If I were him, I would be leading my forces down to engage us in battle before we had a chance to join forces and come to full strength." "Of course you would, for you have a true military mind, my dear general. Madumda, however, believes his forces are vastly superior to ours and that his powers are far greater than my own. Therefore, he is letting his arrogance cloud his judgment, a flaw that I hope we might be able to exploit during this campaign." "Nonetheless," began Andrieu, "I will feel much better after we have joined up with the western army and know that the eastern and northern armies are in position." "Quite true," stated Beraut. "Speaking of the eastern army, has there been any further word on their situation?" "Absolutely none," answered Dylan. "There has been no communication with them since their representatives left Leander but, if it's any consolation, there have been no signs that the enemy has encountered them or learned of their existence either. Hopefully this just means that our communications network is not as reliable as we might have wished or that there has been some minor, unforeseen delay in their deployment." "Not too long of a delay, I pray, if that is the case," commented the mage. "The timing of this mission is crucial and we can ill afford their failing to strike at the designated moment. As for Madumda, the fact that he has not yet appeared, that does concern me. I have been unsuccessful in watching over Kieren's progress and monitoring how he fares, and I sorely hope that this does not mean that my evil brother has learned of him or our plan. Unfortunately that would explain why he has not appeared with his troops up until now, though there are other possible explanations. I sincerely hope that this is not the case, but merely a coincidence or an outward sign of his lack of regard about our threat." They all agreed on these points and spent several more minutes in random conversations concerning various topics of interest. Eventually, however, the wizard requested their attention once more. "We must now move on, for we have a considerable distance yet to travel. The weather does not look favorable to the north and the elements could slow us down noticeably, if it turns against us. I suggest that we make haste to reach the rendezvous point by the appointed hour." "Should we consider this another ill omen and might Madumda have a hand in this?" Daveel asked, pointing at the dark clouds on the horizon. "Neither," the wizard responded. "I believe that this is just a natural occurrence, no matter how ill timed, and I am confident that it is not something produced or summoned by the Dark Lord. Its appearance, however, should be enough to entice us into using greater haste, so let's be off." With that, Beraut fell into the center of the front ranks and the military leaders gave the commands to march northward. They could tell that some distance in front of them and extending off to the west raged a mighty storm, but they continued to make their way forward, crossing right into the path of the squall. As they neared the perimeter of this weather condition it didn't seem all that bad, but as they continued on it got progressively worse and it did slow their pace considerably. Eventually, large accumulations of water began to appear in their path and there was no way to avoid them, so they plowed straight ahead, doing the best that they could to continue on. It took them a few more hours of enduring these hardships before they reached the place where the seer anticipated meeting up with Commander Massil and Captain Baith's forces, and they waited there. Without hesitation, they set up their temporary headquarters and did what they could until the others arrived. * * * * Magistrate Odilon summoned one of his servants and instructed him to guide King Brolin and Captain Baith to the area where the dwarf troops had bivouacked the previous evening. By the time the leaders had reached the site, their troops had already broken camp and they were awaiting their orders. Upon Baith's command, the dwarfs quickly fell into formation and were marched to the ferry, which would transport them to the far shore. It was a very time consuming effort and it took numerous trips, as the ferry was loaded to capacity and the river men painstakingly guided the vessel across the tricky current to the far shore, where the troops then disembarked. The return trip was much quicker, as the ferry was empty and weighed next to nothing in comparison. Once they returned to the near shore, it was loaded with the next group and the process was repeated. Once everyone was across, Captain Baith's troops reassembled and then they waited for the men to complete the same steps. Upon leaving the meeting, Magistrate Odilon was joined by Commander Massil, and together they set off to lead their troops. It took them slightly longer to get organized and reach the ferry that would carry them over the River Sterling, and the dwarfs had nearly completed this feat by the time they arrived. It was a time consuming process and the sun was slightly more than half way through its trip from the horizon to its zenith before the men joined forces with the dwarf contingent. Captain Baith urged Commander Massil to align his troops at the front of the formation, knowing that it would be easier for his dwarf troops to slow down and follow their lead, than to expect the Valedians to try to keep pace with the dwarfs' upbeat cadence. When all was in order, the makeshift army began to move forward. It was not a beautiful day, because a large number of clouds were slowly drifting into the area and the sunlight was being partially blocked by that billowy covering. The temperaature was considerably cooler than it normally would be for this time of year, which might be an indication that they were in for an early winter this year. The temperature, however, did turn out to be to their advantage, as it was more conducive to a faster marching pace and would allow the human troops to continue more quickly than they normally would have. They were moving along quite well, although the dwarfs still found the pace a little too leisurely to bear. These hearty souls never wished to spend more time on a march than was absolutely necessary, believing that every moment saved is precious, and they knew they were wasting much time by having to follow the men of Valeda. After much grumbling and the casting of disparaging looks in Captain Baith's direction, they finally got their message across to their leader and he went to see if he could spur the men to increase their gait. The dwarf officer began to move forward, so he could speak to Commander Massil about this issue, but he soon was distracted by other developments. As he made his way to the front of the formation, the young captain noticed that the sky before them was growing increasingly darker, as a large mass of threatening looking clouds moved in to occupy the sky above them. As he reached the side of his counterpart and Magistrate Odilon, the heavens unleashed the first hint of rain and the cold droplets stung his face. "Commander," he said, looking at Massil, "I came here in an attempt to urge you to order your troops to double their speed, but I now believe that this will soon be impossible. If the rain comes down very hard or for any substantial duration, the ground will become soft and the footing will become uncertain. I pray that this passes over before we become bogged down in a muddy quagmire." "I'm afraid your assessment is quite accurate and that a storm of any great magnitude will only add to the deteriorating conditions and slow our progress accordingly. I gather that your men find our pace too casual as it is?" "You interpret the situation correctly," Captain Baith informed him. "What would you suggest that we do now?" "I would recommend that we stop here and wait for the storm to blow over. We shall let this front pass us by and allow the rain the opportunity to be absorbed into the ground before we continue. Otherwise, each step any of us takes will scar the face of the terrain and make it more difficult for those who follow to find a suitable foothold. Hopefully the rain will subside and the ground will absorb the excess moisture in a relatively short period of time." "You have made some valid points and I agree with your suggestions. We shall wait out the storm here but, when we resume, I respectfully request that we move out at a swifter pace than we have been using. We have a tight schedule to hold to and we don't want to keep the wizard and the rest of our army waiting for our arrival." "Agreed," the commander told him, and then gave the order for the formation to halt. Captain Baith returned to his command to tell them what had happened. As the troops broke formation, they set up any portable protection they had to shield them from the elements. They had nearly finished establishing this makeshift village when the heavens opened unmercifully and doused them in a torrential cloudburst. The rain came down in buckets, falling so furiously that the ground couldn't possibly drink in the vast quantities of moisture that were collecting on the surface. It was becoming impossible for anyone to find a dry area to wait out the storm on, as the rainwater was seeping into every crevice and overtaking every previously semi-dry clump of soil. This, of course, was making everyone miserable and it was giving the troops the impression that even the elements were conspiring against them. It appeared as though this downpour would never cease when, nearly as suddenly as it had begun, the rains let up and the sun tried to peek through the gaps in the clouds. This minor occurrence did a great deal to brighten the spirits of the warriors, as well as illuminate the land, and the clouds continued to move eastward, taking their remaining moisture with them. Captain Baith and Commander Massil held a hasty conference and decided to spread the word to take this opportunity to eat, while they waited for the ground to absorb as much of the moisture as it could. They knew it would be some time before these massive puddles seeped below the surface and made it easier for them to choose their route, so they decided to do their best not to waste any of the precious minutes it would take for that to happen. The meal they now consumed was not a pleasant one, for both the food and the diners were soggy, but they were professionals and made the best of a bad situation. After waiting for some time, the sun had warmed the air slightly and the ground had absorbed some of the rainwater that had fallen over such a short time. Massil and Baith checked out the area, conferred, and decided that it was the appropriate time to continue their journey. Although the footing was shaky, Commander Massil kept his promise and his men increased their earlier pace. This pleased the dwarfs, whose deployment this time was even more appropriate. Seeing they were used to performing well even in the worst of conditions, they were able to navigate across the soil, pocked by the many footprints of those who had gone before, and still managed to keep pace. This performance seemed to justify their reputation as foot soldiers extraordinaire and give credence to all the tales of impossible deeds performed by their ancestors. The small army continued to make their way like this until they spied the distance fires of the temporary encampment of Beraut and the others. Scouts were sent ahead to make certain that this was indeed the case, and not a ruse by the enemy, so when their speculations had been confirmed, they moved forward to be challenged by one of the sentry posts. Once the proper passwords had been exchanged and identities had been confirmed, the dwarf and Valedian contingents were allowed to pass the outer perimeter and set up their camps next to the others. While their troops were doing this, the leaders were conducted to Beraut's tent, to meet with him and the others in charge. As they entered the large tent, they noticed that the interior was well lit by a collection of torches that had been stuck into the ground at various points, with one large torch placed strategically near the center. These new representatives were greeted by the wizard as they passed through the tent's flap, and they were encouraged to seat themselves on one of the supply barrels that had been arranged throughout as temporary furniture. After the initial exchange of pleasantries, Commander Massil informed the wizard about their journey and was, in return, filled in on what new information the intelligence community had reported since they last spoke. The mage then mapped out the next day for them, explaining how they would march north to the upper plains and stop only when they were within a short distance of Madumda's forces. There they would make their final preparations before engaging the enemy, and the battle would commence the day after. Beraut then went over the battle plans with them again, explaining contingency plans in case the enemy decided to attack before that time. Slowly, he dictated each and every move tthat each unit would make and under what circumstances they would deviate from these plans, until he was sure that everyone present could repeat all phases of this plan back to him in unison, if he so desired. This was done so that everyone knew what the others were doing, so no mistakes would be made, as the wizard orchestrated this engagement down to the smallest detail possible. When everyone was aware of the battle plan, the timing of each maneuver, and every contingency plan, Beraut urged them to get what sleep they could, while time still permitted. As King Brolin made his way toward the exit, he stopped to chat with his lifelong friend. "You have done well to prepare everyone, but I'm concerned about other factors. There is considerable grumbling going through the troops, which I fear may have some credence. You must admit that this weather is definitely atypical for this time of year. Could the Dark Lord be at least partially responsible for it, as a way to hinder our movements against him?" "As I have told others, your highness, the inclement weather does not appear or feel magical in nature. Nor do I sense any supernatural presence involved. I am afraid that it is just an unfortunate coincidence that we are experiencing such unseasonable conditions at this time. One thing I am fairly certain of, however, and that is that a chilling frost will probably settle in this evening, as a result of the rain and the massive cloud cover." "Then I was correct on at least one point, as I too had calculated that we would be experiencing a rather numbing chill as we slept. I guess that I shall see that my bedroll is placed nearer the campfire this evening, as these old bones can't endure the cold as they used to. Good night, my weary old friend, but could you grant me a boon as I retire? Would it be possible for you to conjure up some sort of spell that would keep us safe and snug throughout the night?" "I would if I dared, but I believe it best that I conserve my strength for the test that lies ahead. Sleep well, your Majesty, for it might well be a very arduous row we have to hoe tomorrow." The two parted company, with the King returning to join his countrymen, and the wizard spread his gear beneath the tent they had just met under. He had offered to share these accommodations with the others in attendance, but they opted to spend this final night amongst their own troops. The eve of a battle or possible battle is quite often a very unsettling and reflective time for soldiers, and this night was no exception to that rule. None of the warriors in the upper echelon slept very soundly, going over their orders in their dreams, picturing the carnage that was to come, worrying that they wouldn't respond decisively or appropriately enough for each situation. The officers were also concerned about what the following day would bring, if they should live that long. The common warriors had their own concerns, though of a more personal nature. They generally faced visions of their families or other loved ones, wondering if they would ever see them again and worrying about how those closest to them would survive if they were killed in battle. They would also suffer through images of the horrors of battles, either seeing possible visions of what was to come or by reliving scenes from engagements they had fought in long ago. It would be later in those dreams that the questions would begin to arise, questions about their proficiency as a fighter. They would wonder if they were too old or if they had lost their agility or their edge against younger opponents. They would question whether their senses were keen enough to anticipate the moves of the enemy or if they were still strong enough to counter the staggering blows they would deliver. Then they would wonder if they had the stamina it took to endure the long, drawn-out encounters, such as they would be facing, or whether they had to come up with ways to conserve their strength or avoid the worst of the battle. Finally they would begin to question if they had just been arrogant and overconfident in the past, thinking themselves better combatants than they actually were, but then they came to the conclusion that those who fell into that category had already come to a gory end. The night seemed as though it would never end, as these soldiers battled their demons while they slept, when the evening mercifully drew to a close and the camp began to stir to life. The trembling of their bodies was now a result of the severe drop in temperature while they slept, and not from the lingering effects of their uneasy slumber they had just endured. This day both armies would be content to zip through their morning meal, so they could prepare themselves for the events of the day. They would ready their weapons by polishing them and sharpening their cutting edges, so a dull blade would not fail to do what was demanded of it. The archers would test their bow strings and check their arrows, making sure they were not missing feathers and that the arrow heads were as sharp as possible. The soldiers no longer concerned themselves with the cold, knowing the exertion of the march and the ensuing conflict would make them grateful for the cooler weather. The evening frost had also helped to firm up the ground, so they wouldn't have to be quite as concerned about their footing, meaning this unseasonable chill was actually fortuitous. The change in weather also had another interesting effect, in that it improved morale. When they recognized the fact that the rain had ended and the ground had become firmer, the troopers had finally come to accept that Madumda had not been responsible for these meteorological changes. If this had been of his doing, he would not have caused it to change at this point in time, for it would have been to his advantage if this sea of mud continued indefinitely. Now the soldiers were certain that these quirky conditions had been merely a natural phenomenon and their lot was no worse now then when they initially volunteered to participate in this battle. Time passed fairly quickly as they made their way forward, as it usually does when you exert great amounts of energy, like on this march. There was also a secondary factor at work here too, as time also flies by when your spirits have been lifted by an unexpected change in fortune, such as the turnabout in the weather. These changes definitely seemed to favor the allied forces now. Throughout the day scouts had been continually scurrying back and forth, constantly reporting to their superiors what they could see happening at the enemy's location. The most important news came when Madumda had finally been spotted entering the enemy encampment around twilight, and now it appeared that he and his army were also preparing for the confrontation to begin on the morrow. There was to be no turning back now and no question as to what would lie ahead. They had reached the point of no return and the only uncertainties that remained were how Commander Elgin had fared, what had happened to the eastern army and the men of the northern city-states, and how Kieren was doing in his attempt to enter Treblanc and retrieve the Sword of Kings. Madumda's appearance among his troops had also helped to reassure Beraut that his evil brother was still unaware of the existence of an heir to the Tarolian throne. Beraut believed that if his evil brother knew what Kieren was up to, he would have remained at Treblanc, so he could set a trap and eliminate that final threat to him. It was also obvious that the Dark Lord hadn't already disposed of Kieren and the others either, or he would have dispatched his standard bearers to display the heads of the young prince and his protectors on poles, to alert the others as to their fate and to dishearten the opposition. No, their plan still had a chance of succeeding, and the wizard hoped that Kieren could find the inner strength to complete his task. Beraut also wondered if the young prince could pull it off before the genocide began and as to how the two would engage each other, if Madumda were here and Kieren was at Treblanc. Would his evil brother sense the treachery and go back to his fortress, or would Kieren find the sword and come here to call the Dark Lord out. The latter occurrence would be extremely dangerous for the young prince, as he would have to travel through hostile territory and past Madumda's henchmen before he could throw his gauntlet down in challenge. No, there were still many questions remaining to be answered, but none of them may ever know the resolution to any of these queries. Beraut was once again tempted to look in on Kieren again this evening, but he realized that such a move would not be wise. Such an effort might come to the attention of his evil brother, alerting him of Kieren's existence and his present location. No, Beraut would have to trust in providence and the skills of Kieren's protectors, leaving up to them to keep the boy safe and to make sure that the prophecy would still be fulfilled. The army was now setting up camp and the wizard urged those erecting his tent into greater haste, as his battle commanders were approaching for their final briefing. At this meeting Beraut would make sure that everyone remembered their assignments, as well as those of the other groups, and he would fill them in concerning his suspicions about the prince and his protectors. After the last of his subordinates had arrived, he went over everything one final time. Andrieu of Leander would be in charge of the infantry and would anchor the center of the offensive thrust. The elven General Daveel would command the archers, and they would begin the conflict with an aerial barrage. After the archers had expended the appropriate number of arrows, they would fall back and make up the reserve assault force. The cavalry would be commanded by Tristan of Cassander, and his assignment would be to protect the allied flanks, after he led the initial charge into the midst of the enemy formation. Those troops would be all that would be needed or used in the first phase of the battle-plan and Commander Elgin, leading his dwarf troops and the Tunstanese army, would be in position to carry out their assignment once the confrontation began to escalate. At the point when the two armies were fully engaged, this secondary force would plunge into the fray and, hopefully, tip the momentum in favor of the allies and negatively affect the morale of the opposition forces. Once that was established, the wizard now assigned wood elves' King Dylan, the dwarfs' King Brolin, and the river elves' Balaster Rombaire to serve as his aides-de-camp and chief military advisors. His primary reason for doing this was to placate the three aged heads-of-state and satisfy their desire to participate in some way, but it also helped Beraut as well. He would be able to draw upon their vast strategic prowess and tap their accumulated military wisdom once the battle had began, allowing him to make the necessary adjustments if the battle should change drastically. There was also another advantage of having them serve in these roles, as they would be in a rear position and protected from the physical exertion and dangers of actual combat. Though the trio wanted to be involved, this was definitely a case where the spirit was willing but the flesh was weak, as they could no longer endure the rigors of battle. The planning session continued for a while longer, but soon they found they accomplished all they could, so they ended the session. As the others were leaving, Beraut summoned Captain Baith over to him and they went to a corner of the tent alone. The two spent the next half an hour in a private meeting, and no one else was privy to what the pair had discussed. When he and Beraut had finished, the dwarf officer returned to his troops, selected about one hundred of them for a special assignment, and they slipped out of camp under the cover of a very deep darkness. Only a couple of the perimeter guards and a few of the troops in the dwarf encampment even noticed their departure, yet no one except for Captain Baith and the wizard knew why they had left. Beraut used the remaining time to sequester himself, securing the flaps of his tent after the others had left. He thought about Kieren and his protectors, as he sat there alone, and more than once he was almost persuaded to make contact with them. No matter how much he wished to, he knew that would be too dangerous, so resisted the temptation again. All of this made the mage feel powerless and helpless, and he blamed himself for not being able to watch over and defend his ward when he was most vulnerable. The seer thought about how he had assured Kieren that he would watch over him and help to protect him as best he could, and now he couldn't even keep the first half of his promise. He even began to question his ability to lead the combined forces into battle and whether he was capable of making the necessary adaptations as he went. All of this combined to make Beraut consider this as an omen of how impotent he would be if he were forced to face his evil brother face-to-face, and this possibility disturbed him even more, causing his confidence to melt like the snow in spring. After that, the wizard tried unsuccessfully to sleep. Instead he spent the night wrestling with his conscience and other demons, trying to come to grips with his doubts. He spent most of the night pacing back and forth in his tent, trying to come up with way to counter these concerns that had suddenly emerged and shattered his previously healthy ego. After a few hours of this activity, he sat in his chair and gave in to his exhaustion, getting some rest, though not much. Before long he was dreaming and his visions took him back to the time after Madumda had split from the Council, having already performed his dastardly deed. Beraut was still a novice and this was the day when the other wizards informed him that he was to be left alone to defend Tarolia against Madumda. They explained once more why they were doing this and why they felt confident that he was the best to carry out their plan, and he listened intently as they enumerated the strengths they felt he possessed. Their faith in him was inspiring and subconsciously this helped to boost his confidence from the lows it had sunk to, and he began to feel capable of doing what was required of him once more. He was nearly back to his former self, when he awoke to the sounds of the camp stirring around him, and those devastating doubts were now a thing of the past. He greeted the morning with a renewed assuredness and he passed through the flap of his tent to discover that the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon in the east. The sun was not yet capable of delivering much warming power and an icy blanket of frost still covered the countryside, so the mage pulled his cloak securely about him and blew warm air from his lungs into his hands. The mage turned to greet some passing troopers and he was able to watch the words emanate from his own throat, as the warm moisture from his breath crystallized in the air almost as soon as it left his vocal cords. He shuddered slightly from the chill, and made a decision to find someplace warmer to go, until the sun had a chance to warm his surroundings a little more. He walked briskly toward the mess facilities, seeking something hot to warm his insides and something more substantial, to ease the rumblings of his stomach. Soon he was drinking a steaming liquid from a large mug and eating hot porridge from a wooden bowl. He also took the time to chat with the others who were there with him, members of the various races who were also enjoying the frothy brew and filling gruel, as they tried to warm themselves also. While he chatted, the seer would wrap his hands around his mug, letting the warmth from the liquid thaw the chill in his fingers and ease the pain that the cold brought to his old hands. At that moment he spied the three elderly leaders stroll into the area, so he excused himself from the other soldiers and went to join his chief advisors. As he approached, he greeted them. "Hail, my noble friends. Did you have any trouble dragging your old bones from your blankets this morning?" "No trouble," quipped Brolin, "just a lack of desire to take my weary old frame from the warmth of the bedding and thrust it into this frigid morning air. I trust you slept well?" "Not particularly. I have had much on my mind and I have been distracted by many different thoughts, so sleep is at a premium. How soon before the troops are ready to march?" "Less than an hour," offered King Dylan. "They seem as anxious as we are to get their bodies moving and their blood pumping, so they can generate some heat of their own. If the enemy is as inspired to move in our direction, then this battle could commence by mid-morning." "Splendid," commented the mage, as he scanned the sky above him. "It looks as though it will be a clear day after all. The clouds remaining in the sky are soft and billowy and there doesn't seem to be any trace of the storm clouds remaining. I only pray that all is well with our two remaining armies and that nothing is amiss. Has there been any word from either of them? "None, Master Beraut," answered Rombaire, "but they might deem it more prudent to leave us in doubt than to risk the capture of a messenger who might reveal their existence and location. There has been sufficient time for Commander Elgin to move his troops into place, even allowing time for him to take additional precautions and deal with unforeseen distractions." "Yes, my worried friend," added King Brolin, "Commander Elgin is a fine leader and he has always been extremely dependable, even under the most adverse conditions. If there is even the slightest possibility of completing his mission, he will be there." "I hope your assessment is correct. It is now time for us to stow our own gear and organize our command. Please meet me at the northern perimeter of camp as soon as you can." They all nodded their assent and headed back toward their own campsites, where they spent the prior evening. It was not long before they were rejoining the wizard at the head of the troop formation, ready to advance and meet their foe. They started the march normally, but soon increased the pace to a very invigorating gait, to help warm up the men and loosen their muscles, to make sure those stiff bodies were limber before the fighting and bloodshed was to commence. It had not been very long before they could make out the movement of the enemy line, which was heading in their direction and moving at a similar swift pace. You could feel the tension building with every step, as each soldier strained to see the enemy's ranks, so they could determine for themselves just how powerful they might be and what types of troops they would be facing in the upcoming fray. They wanted to know such things as how many foot soldiers, archers, or horsemen they had. Were there any surprises that they could see, like weapons they hadn't counted on or unexpected foes? What were their numbers and would the armies be even or would they be fighting against greater odds? After much inspection and speculation, the allies felt some sense of relief upon discovering that everything was pretty much as they had expected and they could find nothing supernatural or otherworldly about their opponents. Both armies continued marching, with both sides staring at the other's ranks and wondering what they had planned and what thoughts must be going through their minds. When at last they were nearing fighting range, the wizard ordered them to disperse from their marching columns and deploy into their attack formation. There was much activity as this was carried out, with various groups breaking out in all directions and forming under their new commanders. The infantry, cavalry, and archers all broke into their respective groups and moved to their assigned locations, there to be given a quick inspection by their new senior officers. Soon each group was at the ready, standing a few hundred meters from their opponents, who had deployed in a similar fashion, with both sides waiting for one of their Supreme Commanders to bark out the command to 'attack'. * * * * * * * * If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at http://members.tripod.de/wolfslair, in the 'Other Stories' section. E-mails may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.