Abuud: the One-Eyed God (3 page)

"Well I am glad to find you alive," responded the Baron. "Did they make any attempt to approach the gates before they left? Did you overhear words regarding their man in the city? Did it look like they were waiting for him?"

A puzzled frown fell over Wylan's face as he recalled watching the pilgrim encampment. "No," he finally answered. "Everyone just rose as if it was expected. They folded up their camp and departed. It was too far to hear any conversations, but I remember wondering why they left without their supplies."

"Perhaps they knew he was ill," pondered the Baron.

"Ill?" echoed Wylan. "He did not appear ill to me before he entered the gates. He was quite lively in the ceremony that they had for him."

"Ceremony?" questioned the Baron. "They had a ceremony for a lad going to get supplies?"

"Well that does seem strange," agreed Wylan, "but I am not familiar with their religion."

"Describe the ceremony," command the Baron.

Wylan described what he had seen the night before. He struggled to leave nothing out. As he was telling his tale, a whiff of smoke caught his attention and he turned towards the city. His storytelling stopped as Wylan saw the huge bonfires on the streets of the city. He strained his eyes to see what was happening below. With the Baron forgotten, Wylan's mouth hung open as he saw bodies being thrown into the huge fires. He quickly scanned the ramparts for his fellow guards, but he could not see a one of them. Slowly he returned his attention to the Baron.

"What happened?" queried Wylan.

"The Black Death, lad," sighed the Baron. "It is why I poked with you with such a long pole. I needed to know if you were alive or not. You are probably the only person in Southland that I can be sure is not infected."

"The Black Death?" cringed Wylan. "How? Why?"

"The lad the pilgrims sent in was infected," scowled the Baron. "I thought it was just our bad luck before I heard your report about the ceremony. Now I am not sure. It would explain the prophet's threat and why they did not expect the lad to return, but I cannot imagine a heart so cruel as to do this intentionally."

"You mean the eight out of ten dying that he mentioned?" inquired Wylan. "Will it really be that bad?"

"It will," affirmed Baron Timor. "It may even be worse. I fear that none may survive. That is why I am pleased to have found you. You have a task to accomplish."

"What can I do?" asked Wylan. "I know nothing of the Black Death."

"I hope you can still say that come tomorrow," frowned the Baron. "My men are shooting citizens that are trying to leave the city, but I am asking you to leave on a mission for me."

"Why would you kill people trying to leave?" questioned Wylan. "And why would you allow me to leave?"

"Because I feel certain that you are not contaminated," replied the Baron. "The others trying to flee could spread this plague across the countryside. I cannot allow that. Still, people must learn what happened here in Southland. You are going to spread that word."

"Surely you can leave if you want to?" responded Wylan. "Nobody would dare stop the Baron from leaving."

"I do not know if I have been infected," answered the Baron. "That is why I used such a long pole to rouse you. I cannot ask more of my people than I do of myself. If you follow instructions, you will not pose a danger to anyone."

"I can follow instructions well," agreed Wylan.

"Good, lad," smiled the Baron. "You will have to leave the walls from where you stand. It is a long drop, but others have done it in the past. The first thing you must do is to mark each of the gates to the city. Mark them well so that people coming to Southland will know that the Black Death is inside the walls. After you do that, get away from the city, but do not come into contact with any man or beast. Keep yourself isolated for three days. Only if you have no signs of plague are you to continue. Do you understand?"

"Yes," nodded Wylan. "Keep to myself for three days. What do I do then?"

"If you show signs of plague, you must kill yourself," instructed the Baron. "This is very important. You must realize that if you show signs by then that you will surely die anyway. Do not let others suffer because of your own fears. Are you sure you can do this?"

Wylan tried to envision himself with plague and took a long time to answer, but the Baron showed no signs of impatience. "I can," Wylan finally replied.

"Good, lad," smiled the Baron. "After three days, head north of the city. I have an estate about a day's walk from here. My crest is upon the gate and you will recognize it. Enter the estate and describe what has happened here. Ask for supplies for a journey and a horse. You will need to ride hard to get to Cleb before the pilgrims. Warn the Baron of Cleb regarding what has transpired in Southland. This is what I ask of you."

"I will do as you have commanded," assured Wylan. "Should I come back here afterwards?"

"I do not think there will be anything to come back to," frowned the Baron. "Someone must always burn the last person that died. It is hard to do that and not get the disease yourself. Already half the city has died. They are dying quicker than we can gather their bodies. Find a new life, lad. Better yet, spread the word about the prophet Azmet. Any scourge that would intentionally spread the Black Death must be destroyed."

"Are you sure this was intentional?" quizzed Wylan. "I do not want to accuse the prophet of something he did not do."

"I would not have believed it myself until I heard your report," scowled the Baron. "There are some things I am familiar with about the nomad tribes of Sordoa though. The ceremony you witnessed was the Farewell to the Martyr ceremony. The red headband and the kissing of the sword are the final farewells to a warrior on his way to certain death. That lad knew he was never going to see his people again. And his people knew it as well, which is why they left without waiting for him. Spread the word, lad. There is no doubt that the prophet attained the destruction he sought here in Southland."

***

My people are ready, Deliverer. Send the goblins to us, and we shall ensure that they do not escape.

The safety of your warriors means more than a few escaping goblins, Shamora. Kill as many goblins as you can, but do not needlessly pursue them. Let them run from their defeat if it saves unicorn lives.

Larastrides snorted and bowed his head to Arik.
It shall be as you wish. It pleases me that you place a high value on my people. We shall not let you down.

Arik could not see the thousands of waiting unicorns, which lined the natural clearing that split through the forest to the north, but he had no doubt that they were there. With the thick fog that Jenneva had created, Arik could not see farther than thirty paces. He wondered how they would even know when the goblins were coming. Arik turned and strode over to Alex and Jenneva.

"How will we know when the goblins are coming?" Arik asked.

"Prince Midge will keep you informed," Alex answered. "He will be above the fog as he creates the illusion of the Goblin Killer. We must allow the front ranks to pass us by before we attack. The more goblins we lure into the fog, the more that will die quickly."

"Won't they pass out the other end?" asked Tedi as he and Tanya joined the group.

"Hardly," replied Jenneva. "Larastrides has his army stretched out over several leagues. The entire goblin army could enter before they start to escape."

"Will they all chase after the Goblin Killer?" queried Tanya.

"That we don't know," frowned Alex. "That is where the Alcea Rangers come in. And the Tice garrison," he added. "We must clean up whatever is left behind. Let us hope that most of them fall for the illusion. Has Prince Midge returned yet?"

"No," Arik answered.

"Indeed I have," chirped Midge as he fluttered down to Arik's shoulder. "I was just hovering above the fog. The goblins are moving their siege engines and I wanted to see where they were going."

"And where are they going?" inquired Arik.

"They are lining the engines up in attack formation," responded the fairy. "They do not appear to be ready to attack yet, but I imagine it will be soon."

"We need to get into position then," interjected Alex. "Did you deliver the details of our plan to the men inside Tice?"

"I did," affirmed Prince Midge. "They are very excited about the plan. I think they had given up hope of surviving the attack over the past few days. Now they are anxious for the battle to begin."

"Good," nodded Alex. "Let us hope that the goblins react as we expect them to. Everyone get to their positions."

"You never told me where I was to go," interrupted Tanya. "Should I be with Tedi or Arik?"

"You are coming with me," smiled Jenneva as she turned to leave. "Get Frea and prepare to ride."

Tanya stood open-mouthed as the Alcea Rangers split up and faded into the unnatural fog. After a moment she raced to get Frea. She mounted Frea and was wondering which way to go to find Jenneva when Frea started moving of her own will.

Where are you taking me?

We are to go with Jenneva and Yorra. I know the way.

Am I the only one who does not know where I am going?

It was not my turn to question what the others might know.

Very funny, Frea. Why are you keeping secrets from me?

It is not a secret. You just weren't there when the plans were made. I smell Yorra.

"Let's ride," ordered Jenneva as she saw Tanya appear from the fog. "We have little time and a ways to go yet."

"Where are we going?" questioned Tanya as the two unicorns started galloping.

"We are going to see how good your magic skills are," replied Jenneva. "Remain quiet until we get there."

They rode for half an hour before coming to a halt upon a small rise at the edge of the forest overlooking the wide plain before the city of Tice. Tanya jumped off Frea and marched to the lip of the rise. The massive plain was boiling with goblins, and huge siege engines were lined up in the center of the plain. She saw large catapults with huge fires roaring near them. In front of the catapults were several crudely constructed wagons with large trees slashed to them. The forward ends of the trees appeared to be rather pointed like large spears. To the left and the right of the other siege engines were large towers on wheels. The towers had crude roofs to shield the goblins that were hidden within the towers.

"There are far more goblins than I expected," Tanya murmured. "I do not see how Midge is going to lure them all into the trap."

"Prince Midge alone cannot do that," Jenneva replied. "That is what we are here for. We are going to make that plain into a very inhospitable place for the goblins. We will start at the south and work northward. The idea is to cause most of the goblins to migrate towards the trap. When the Goblin Killer appears we want them to be very anxious to chase after him. Fear of staying on the plain will help them decide to give chase."

"So I am to provide security for you while you cast your spells?" queried Tanya. "Do you want a shield or should I just stand guard?"

"Neither," laughed Jenneva. "I suspect you are more powerful than you have let on. Today we shall see what you are made of. Do not use any projectile spells that will give away our position. Anything else is fair game."

"You want me to use offensive magic to kill goblins?" frowned Tanya.

"Yes, lass, I do," responded Jenneva. "Do you have a problem with using magic to kill?"

Tanya did not answer for a few moments. "I haven't used magic to kill before," she finally admitted.

"Is it really any different than using your bow?" queried Jenneva.

"Yes," Tanya replied quickly. "My bow is a weapon. It is meant for killing and protection. Using magic as a weapon is dangerous."

"Of course it is dangerous," frowned Jenneva. "That is what makes it such a potent weapon."

"That is not what I meant," retorted Tanya. "I meant that it is dangerous to the caster. Magic is a power that must be respected and used sparingly. It is too easy to become addicted to using magic to kill, and the caster can be turned to the dark side when she becomes heady with her power."

"You have had a kind and cautious tutor," Jenneva smiled thinly. "There is always a danger of becoming enamored with the power of magic, but is it not the same with mundane weapons? Is there not a risk of a great swordsman becoming so impressed with his own skills that he ends up bullying the less skilled?"

"Alex never did," pondered Tanya. "He must be the greatest swordsman that ever lived, but I would never consider him a bully."

"Because it is not in his nature to become one," smiled Jenneva. "I do not think it is in your nature either. Your tutor was wise to warn you, but I have little fear of you being drawn to the dark side."

"You do not even know who I am," reminded Tanya. "How can you be so sure that I can resist it?"

"Because I can see that you are afraid of it," answered Jenneva. "You have an inner strength that will not allow you to succumb to the dark side. I am fairly sure of that, but if you do not wish to aid me that is understandable. I surely would not force you to do something you are uncomfortable with. For all I know, you may not have even been taught any offensive magic. And if you were, it may not be that strong. Keep watch for me then."

Tanya noticed the sly grin on Jenneva's face as she ended her statement and knew it was a taunt to get Tanya to join in. Tanya was not prone to falling for such ploys, and she turned her attention back to the plain. As she watched the great goblin army assemble for its attack, she pondered Jenneva's words. Tanya had been taught offensive magic, as she had been taught the skills of using mundane weapons, but she had never had to resort to using such magic before.

"How do you avoid the lure of the dark side?" Tanya suddenly asked Jenneva.

"There is no lure of the dark side for me," Jenneva answered. "My Master, Egam, warned me of the lure before I started to study dark magic, but I have never experienced any desire to exert my will over innocents."

"You mean that you actually studied the dark arts?" questioned Tanya.