The Powterosian War (Book 5) (38 page)

At the arch, Memlatec chanted the incantation and the three men jumped through the portal just ahead of the blue shimmer. When they reappeared outside the castilyernov, Saxthor heard the metal armor of the imperial army coming up the mountain. The three men dashed down the mountain slope, half sliding and half running. They raced out beyond the trees onto the plain where they encountered the waiting Neuyokkasinian army. The three men turned to look up at the peak.

The blue shimmer, dazzling with arcs of electric currents, blanketed the mountain. The Chowzenshwang, with electrified blue arms, rose over the ruins. It was pure energy that shot bolts like wizard-fire down on the south face of the highland. The energy was so intense all the trees near the top instantly fell as ash without flame. The men felt heat even on the plain. Then the blue shimmer rolled back inward as if sucked back into the Helgenstat.

“Nothing could have survived that,” Bodrin mumbled.

“Not likely, but I must be sure,” Saxthor said. “We don’t know how severely it damaged the imperial army.”

“You think they will still want a battle?” Tonelia asked.

“After the flood losses and now this, it’s not likely they will want to continue the war,” Saxthor said. “I’ll have to go and see what has happened to the legions, the status of this regrettable war. I don’t know what I’ll do if they still insist on attacking. I can’t keep our army here any longer.”

Memlatec summoned a winged watcher and sent the eagle around the mountain with instructions not to enter the mountain peak airspace lest it arouse the Chowzenschwang. The great bird flew and disappeared over the mountains, returning just as quickly but just soaring. It came directly to Memlatec’s arm and they conversed, as only happens with a bird and a wizard.

“The imperial army still exists, Saxthor, but the remaining men are in complete chaos, running in every direction.”

“Do you think they still want war?”

Memlatec shook his head.

“I must be sure; I’m going back around the mountain to see where we stand. I’ll not fight a battle near this mountain. If they still want war, we’ll have to take them on at Konnotan. We must not ever risk arousing that Chowzenshwang’s anger again.”

“Move the army back, back to Konnotan. No…on to Heedra without delay. Send word when you learn of the status of Hoya and the other border fortresses,” Saxthor shouted to his commanders, who’d come up behind him, staring up at the mountain with gaping mouths. They were clearly stunned at the sight of the shimmering blue mountain, as were the troops behind them. The entire force stood frozen for a moment, then the trance broke. The commanders shouted for their units to reform as legions and march double time for Konnotan.

As the army hurried north across the plain toward the capital, Memlatec, Bodrin, Tonelia, and Saxthor turned back to stare at the unbelievable sight of the blue mountain. The blue shimmer, then as if sucked up, pulled back up the mountainside with the Chowzenschwang who sank back down beyond the Helgenstat’s walls, presumably into the abyss.

“You three go with the army,” Saxthor ordered, still trembling.

“Let’s go,” Bodrin said, heading up the slope toward the ash blanket.

“I ordered all of you go back with the army,” Saxthor commanded, again staring at Bodrin who didn’t look back or slow his pace. Memlatec patted Saxthor on the back as he passed by him, following Bodrin.

“Give it up, Saxthor,” Tonelia said, coming from behind him and following the wizard. “You know he never does what anyone tells him to.”

“You’re one to talk, Tonelia. Where are you going? You’ll be killed. Get back here!”

“Come on, Your Majesty, you don’t want to be the last one up the mountain,” Tonelia said, looking back, smiling in a momentary break in her stride.

“None of you listen to me,” Saxthor grumbled, starting up the slope behind the others. “I don’t know what good it does me to be king. No one could rule such obstinate people.”

“It will be all right, Your Majesty,” Memlatec said. He glanced at a grinning Bodrin.

Saxthor displayed a furious face but felt warmth deep inside, trying to catch up with his friends.

*

The company stopped and gathered together two thirds the way up the mountain amid the ash. Searching everywhere around the Helgenstat, no one saw movement, just lingering wisps of smoke and tingling in their feet.

“Don’t go near it again,” Memlatec warned. He led the way around the slope to the south face of the mountain. When they stood on a crag and looked down on the exposed plain, they saw what remained of the imperial army in shambles. The old general in charge of the army saw the Neuyokkasinians at the same time. He had narrowly escaped vaporization by electric arcing and now shouted something to his aide. The adjutant got the attention of the bugler, who blared out a command on his trumpet.

“Do you think they still want war?” Saxthor asked Memlatec. There was no response. They watched the imperial army. Saxthor felt his throat tighten as the remaining legions reformed. “I shouldn’t have sent the army back. Bodrin, try to catch up with them and bring them back. We must stop these remaining legions at the pass where the gorge gives us a chance against them.”

“There must still be six or eight legions down there,” Bodrin mumbled.

A sudden calm swept across the plain as the army’s frantic activities stopped. All looked toward the general who was saluting King Saxthor high up on the crag. Bodrin, Memlatec, and Tonelia stepped back, leaving the king facing the army. The general shouted something to his army and the command was passed along through the other generals and commanders. The legions were quickly reforming into their units. The general continued to salute King Saxthor. He shouted something, and it passed along among the legions that at once stood at attention, faced Saxthor, and saluted. They began shouting something more and more, but Saxthor couldn’t hear what they said.

“Can anyone hear what they’re saying?” Saxthor asked, turning to his comrades.

Memlatec stepped forward turning his old wizard’s ear to the army. He smiled.

“Well, what are they saying?” Saxthor asked.

“You’d better salute, Saxthor. They’re proclaiming you emperor!”

“Emperor!” Saxthor exclaimed.

“Emperor…Engwan must have been killed. They cannot fathom such power as you displayed. That general is leading the proclamation, declaring you emperor. He’s saying, ‘Long live Emperor Saxthor I.’”

Saxthor stood stunned. Bodrin stepped up behind him and pushed his elbow up to start his salute to his new army.

The old Powterosian general struggled up the slope to his new monarch and laid his sword at Saxthor’s feet, bowing on one knee, grimacing in arthritic pain.

Saxthor didn’t know what to say. He looked at Bodrin, then Memlatec, then back to the general. “Rise, general. What’s your name?”

“General Occtec, Your Imperial Majesty. Your immense power vaporized Emperor Engwan as he started up the mountain, screaming for the army to move faster. He’d worn out the legions. They hated him, his outrageous demands, and pompous displays. The Engwan dynasty is finished. The army will follow you as you command if you will spare them retribution. They have found an emperor worthy of their respect and devotion.”

Stunned, Saxthor looked left and right at his companions in disbelief. He cleared his throat. “Will you and the imperial army join the Neuyokkasinian army in repulsing the forces of Dreaddrac now attacking Neuyokkasin’s borders?”

“Your will is our command, Imperial Majesty. I beg your indulgence in granting a day of rest for the troops. They’ve been demoralized by the loss of so many of their comrades on the plain, the forced march to get here, and now this monumental display of your power. If Your Majesty will grant a general amnesty and the day of rest, we will cross the mountain pass and follow you to whatever destination your majesty commands.”

“The amnesty is so granted,” Saxthor said, offering his hand to General Occtec who shook to the bargain, finally catching his breath. “We must leave immediately for the front, but we will leave General Vicksnak with you to lead you back to Konnotan.” With that, General Occtec saluted his new emperor. Saxthor returned the salute and started to depart back down the mountain to catch up with the Neuyokkasinian army.

“General Vicksnak,” Bodrin whispered as Saxthor passed.

“Field promotion,” Saxthor said.

“Your Majesty,” Occtec called out, “one more thing.”

“Yes, general.”

“What do you wish done with the traitor, Rakmar?”

“Rakmar! Is he with your army?

“He remained in Engwaniria, Majesty. He’d made some pact with Emperor Engwan to assist in overthrowing Your Imperial Majesty and Neuyokkasin.”

“Send word to Engwaniria to put him in chains in the palace dungeon. He’s to speak with no one until I have a chance to question him.”

“It shall be done, Imperial Majesty.”

Saxthor rushed toward the pass and back down the mountain’s north slope with Memlatec. There before him was Belnik, standing with arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“I understand Your Majesty has taken outrageous personal risks,” the frustrated valet chastised. “Memlatec, have you no influence with this man? How are we to keep him safe if he’s always rashly charging into situations endangering his life and the stability of the kingdom?”

“Well he is emperor, you know, he will do as he thinks best,” Memlatec said.

“You mean, king,” Belnik corrected.

“I mean emperor.” Memlatec corrected.

Belnik’s jaw dropped. He looked back and forth between Saxthor and Memlatec, unable to speak as Saxthor passed by on the way to catch up with the army. Saxthor shrugged his shoulders, grinned, and winked at him as he passed.

“No one ever tells me anything. I’m always the last to know. I suppose that one there has eaten the entire imperial food supply and they’ve had to surrender or starve,” Belnik said, pointing back up the mountainside to Bodrin.

“It’ll be all right, Belnik,” Memlatec said.

Belnik jerked his head up, glaring at Memlatec. “You got me into this…running around everywhere trying to take care of a whirlwind bunch of crazies.”

Memlatec put his arm around the stunned but agitated valet’s shoulder, leading him along beside Saxthor.

“There there…I’ll explain it to you as we go along. Right now we must hurry back to Konnotan. You see long time ago…”

Saxthor watched this play out from the corner of his eye and couldn’t hide his grin.

* * *

Just as Saxthor was beginning his race back to Konnotan with the Neuyokkasinian army ahead of him and the imperial army soon to follow, General Sekkarian shut up Hoya’s massive gates as the Prertstenian army disembarked on the shore of the Pundar River north of the city. Two massive oak barges continued on, oars pounding the water, rushing the great vessels toward the city’s wharfs. Sekkarian and his aide could see ogres whipping the sweaty orcs to row faster. From the command post at the Hoyahof’s great keep tower, Sekkarian and the aide studied the city walls below checking to be sure the army was ready to repel the looming attack.

“Those barges will smash through the great chain general,” the aide said.

“Order the catapults to focus on those barges surging toward the great chain. They must not break through. If they open the river, those ships could ferry the army across the river to this shore. We’d be under attack from both north and south. Even the wharf would be vulnerable to attack.”

The aide dashed off to the catapults on the city’s northeast wall. “Concentrate all fire on those two barges racing for the great chain.”

The catapult commander nodded understanding of the order. He had the catapults shifted to aim at the barges. The barge rowers slammed their oars wildly into the river. Water splashed everywhere. A foamy surge swept up the barge bows as the vessels plowed ahead toward the chain.

“Hurry men, we’ve only minutes. We’ll not have many chances to get the range right.”

The old sergeant that had almost run afoul of Prince Saxthor on his adventure up the river long before now commanded a battery of the catapults. He’d practiced for this opportunity.

“Those barges won’t get past my catapults, commander,” the crusty, potbellied old veteran said with a grin and a wink. “I’ll not let King Saxthor down. I’ll make him proud of his mercy and generosity shown me, I will.”

The old man grabbed a torch from a bundle beside a tripod of burning coals, and lighting it in the flame, rushed along the wall, lighting the tripods beside the catapults set for incendiary missiles.

“You sure you can rely on that old veteran?” the general’s aide asked, watching the old man’s stomach jostling as he ran.

“There’s no one I’d trust more. That man has a passion for proving his worth to the king, but that’s a story for another time,” the commander said. He stepped forward and shouted to the catapult crews. ”Load stones and fire bundles. Prepare to fire on the battery sergeant’s order.”

The old sergeant grinned, constantly rushing back and forth between the catapults, checking the sightings and range. He ordered this one shifted left or right, raised that one, getting all just so.

The aide fidgeted, seeing the first barge was a dozen yards from the chain blocking river traffic. “Why doesn’t he order them to fire?”