The Immortal Mystic (Book 5) (5 page)

“More light,” he growled. The system of caves in the hills was perfect for housing the orc army. It was strong, hard to find, and only had two entrances, both of which were heavily guarded. Still, Maernok much preferred the open air and sunlight to the stale, damp atmosphere within the caves.

An orc disappeared from the chamber only to return a moment later with two additional lanterns. He placed them at the edges of the table and then backed away.

Maernok ran his fingers along the map before him. “Today was a shameful defeat,” he said.

An old, but hardened orc by the name of Gerarn stepped out from the shadows. A scar creased his cheek and reached up into his left brow. The eye was white and dead. An old wound from a battle long ago. One of his tusks was broken, leaving a ragged stump. The orc was balding. What little hair he had left ringed his cranium with thin wisps of white. For all that, his muscles were large and thick. His arms appeared as though someone had shoved rocks into his skin. Veins snaked along the middle of the biceps, zig-zagging down to the elbows.

“My clan did what they could,” he said unapologetically. “None of my warriors wavered. The fire did not stop them, and none ran from the dragon.” He then puffed up his chest a bit. “Beyond that, we have brought all of our goargs to aid in the battle. Most of them will arrive tonight, and you can put them and their keepers here in the hills until they are needed.”

Maernok nodded. “The goargs will be a good addition to our numbers.” He cast a glance out around the room. He then moved his eyes back to Gerarn. “So, have you heard the casualty report? Are all of your warriors dead then?”

“Only the warriors you ordered for me to hold in reserve remain. All others died on the field today. Yet, if you command it, I will lead the remnant of my clan to battle even now.”

Maernok held up a hand. “That isn’t necessary.” He looked across the table to Serndar.

The orc stepped forward. “My captains held the field, but their warriors fled.” He stood rigid, eyes looking beyond Maernok, rather than at him, chin out and chest puffed up. “After the goargs were defeated, and the trebuchets destroyed, their faith broke. The dragon was too much for them.”

“I cannot abide cowards,” Maernok said solemnly. “Hammenfein does not reward the weak.”

Serndar nodded. He pulled a curved dagger from his belt and laid it upon the table. “If it pleases you, allow me to remove my shame.”

“Your warriors should have remained on the field until they heard the sound for retreat. Instead, they broke rank and ran like dogs!” Maernok slammed his fist on the table. One of the lamps teetered over the edge and shattered on the stone floor of the cave. The candle rolled onto the stone and the flame died.

“To retreat without permission is to shame us all,” Gulgarin put in as he stepped up to the table. He crossed his arms, proudly displaying his wrist bracers with the engraved image of a horse trampling a snake. “I say he is shamed before this council.”

Gerarn bristled at Gulgarin’s words. His eyes fixed on the bracers and he spat upon the ground. “I say there is no shame. Serndar did not lead those warriors. He was here, with us. His captains held firm until they died honorably, with sword in hand. The only shame lies with the cowards who fled. I say let Hammenfein deal with them when the time comes.

Serndar removed his tunic and grabbed the dagger. He placed the tip into the side of his belly, a few inches above his hip. “Maernok, the vote is tied. There are four orc clans here. As I am the one with the shame, I cannot vote. The decision rests with you.”

Maernok looked to the dagger and let the heat of his anger burn within his mind. Under normal circumstances, perhaps he would side with Gulgarin. However, this was not a simple battle. This was his key to get at the necromancer. Defeating Ten Forts would release him from his debt, and he could finally slip his blade through that worm’s neck and spill his sickly, twisted blood upon the rocks.

As if on cue, Gilifan strode into the chamber. “I heard there was a dragon,” he said flatly. “Pity you couldn’t destroy it.”

Maernok snarled and his lip curled back over his upper teeth. He pushed off from the table and looked to Serndar. “Serndar, you are an honorable warrior. The fault lies not with you. Put the dagger away.”

“Sorry, was I interrupting something?” Gilifan asked with feigned concern. The necromancer’s eyes fell with heightened interest upon the dagger.

“Had Gulgarin told me of the necromancer’s involvement, we would not have come,” Gerarn said.

Gulgarin spat on the ground. “I knew only of the conquest,” he lied. Of course he had known of Gilifan’s involvement. He and the necromancer had been planning this very assault on Ten Forts for some time. Gulgarin had even been communicating with young Eddin Finorel. The deal was simple. Gilifan wanted to weaken the Middle Kingdom and, as far as Gulgarin knew, rule over Drakei Glazei. In return, Gulgarin was to get access to the lost orcish lands, which would then enable him to position himself as a new high king, a true conqueror the likes of which had not been seen among the orcish tribes since they were pushed south of Ten Forts. Still, if any knew of his involvement with a wizard, no orcs would follow him into battle. There was only one orc that could request such a thing, and that was Maernok. Maernok was well known throughout all the tribes, and his offer to split the honor of conquering Ten Forts was enough to entice all of the clans.

As the orcs continued to stare in disgust at the necromancer, Gilifan shrugged and moved to the table. “Oh, I suspect that Gerarn, chief of the Viper Clan, would have come even still. This battle is one that shall earn you a high place in Hammenfein. Not many orcs have dared the like.”

“The council has work to do,” Maernok said sternly. “Have you come to assist, or do you simply enjoy wasting our time?”

Gilifan smiled wryly and turned his head to regard Maernok for a moment. “Both, my dear Maernok.” He held his hands out wide to the side and addressed all of them. “They have a dragon, but he cannot remain in that form for long. Every moment he spends as a dragon shall warp his soul. Eventually he will be forced to fight as a human, or he will be overpowered by Nagar’s ancient magic and be under my control.”

“So you would have us throw ourselves at the walls and draw the beast out?” Gerarn asked.

Gilifan nodded. “I would.”

“This is not a sound plan,” Serndar put in. “We suffered a major defeat from the dragon.”

Gilifan held up a finger. “But, now you know to expect him. Furthermore I will fight alongside you.”

Maernok looked up and a wry sneer curled his lips at the corners. “You would speed our victory?” he asked. “You do remember the terms of my debt?”

Gilifan nodded. “Just remember you have to wait two days after Ten Forts falls.” He narrowed his right eye on Maernok for a moment and then looked back to the others. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve that can aid you.”

“No magic,” Maernok was quick to throw in. “That is a dishonorable path to victory.”

Gilifan chortled. “Victory is victory. How a battle is won is not important. All that matters is that it was won.”

“I disagree,” Maernok said sternly.

“And that is why you will never defeat me,” Gilifan concluded. “Now, as for what I have to offer, I believe even Maernok will approve.” He turned to the hallway and called out. “Gersimon, come in.”

Gersimon strolled in proudly, a grand smile upon his face. He marched up to the table and unrolled a yellow parchment over the table. The orc chiefs stepped in for a closer look. “This is my battering ram. It is made of solid iron, with a steel cap over the ram itself.” He stepped back and waved his hand at the design. “It takes a team of twenty to move. It can destroy the gates.”

Maernok snarled at Gersimon. “And how, may I ask, did the two of you meet?”

Gersimon’s proud smile vanished and he fumbled with his fingers.

Gilifan stepped in. “As you know, I was quite close with your predecessor, Chief Gariche,” Gilifan began.

Maernok narrowed his eyes on the necromancer and growled low. “I am aware that you helped him murder my father and scheme his way to become the chief,” Maernok said. “I was also the one who found the two of you scheming together in Gersimon’s home when Gariche died suddenly.”

Gilifan smiled and held Maernok’s gaze. “And then you became chief,” he said. “What a lovely turn of events for you. It seems everything has turned full circle, as it were.”

Maernok clenched his fist and his body stiffened. “When did you two meet?” he pressed.

Gulgarin stepped between them all. “This is getting us nowhere,” he said. “Let them present the idea for the ram. If it helps us conquer Ten Forts, then all is well.” The orc looked to the other two chieftains for support.

Gerarn and Serndar voiced their agreement.

Maernok bit his tongue and gestured for them to proceed.

“As I was saying, the ram is made of solid iron and requires twenty people to move it.”

“Solid iron?” Maernok echoed. “That would take a team of oxen to move. We’ll never get it close to the gates.”

Gersimon shook his head. “Not so,” he said emphatically. “I have been testing it while the army marched to this location. I actually brought it here with a team of twenty she-orcs. The design is flawless.”

“Where did you get she-orcs?” Maernok asked.

Gersimon smiled. “I asked for volunteers. They were eager to help you, my chief.”

“I didn’t authorize that,” Maernok snarled.

Gersimon bowed low. “I apologize, my chief. You had taken all of the males. So, I asked for volunteers. The she-orcs are all single, and they come from the lands outside of our city, where males are scarce. They were eager to aid you, and did not want to dishonor their village by not sending in volunteers.”

“I have done similar things at times,” Gulgarin commented.

Serndar nodded. “I will be sending out for more volunteers as well, to replace those who fell today. I will likely include she-orcs.”

“Tell him about the fire,” Gilifan said, moving the presentation along.

Gersimon nodded. “I improved upon the original design and changed the cap of the ram. The ram has two openings in the front that will spray oil over the door with each strike. Then, it is simply a matter of lighting it to weaken the door.”

“What about dragon fire,” Gerarn pressed. “Surely the flame of a dragon could destroy it. I don’t see any Telarian steel.”

Gilifan stepped forward. “That is where I come in,” he said. “I can transmute the metal.” The orcs looked to each other with confused frowns. “I can change it to Telarian steel.”

“Magic,” Maernok grumbled.

“Not directly aimed at the enemy,” Gulgarin put in. “It might work.”

“With a dragon in their midst, I don’t see another way to protect the ram,” Serndar added.

“Do not let your pride blind you from your victory,” Gilifan told Maernok.

The other chiefs turned and watched Maernok. The orc’s face darkened as blood rushed to his cheeks and forehead. His eyes grew hot, and would have likely consumed Gilifan in a single blink if they had had that power. “I will move my warriors to the west. The other chiefs may decide for themselves if they wish to follow a meddling magician and this contraption to the gates.”

“The term is necromancer, my dear Maernok. A magician does parlor tricks, I alter the very fabric of the realm, and can extend my reach to other planes.”

Maernok walked around the table and stood close to Gilifan so that his hot breath forced the necromancer to take a step back. “I swore before to kill you. I intend to see that through.”

“Then you should get your warriors inside Ten Forts,” Gilifan said. “For you will never be free to pursue me until your debt is paid.”

“Careful,
necromancer
,” Maernok cautioned. “The longer you talk the more enticing it is for me to slice your throat and rip out your insolent tongue.”

Gilifan sneered and nodded quickly. Maernok pushed by, jolting Gilifan’s shoulder and exiting the chamber. “Well, Maernok is nothing if not stubborn,” he said to the others. None of them laughed. “Make your choice,” he said. “Shall I alter the ram or shall I let you continue to waste your warriors until the dragon is transformed?”

“Change the ram,” Serndar said. Gulgarin and Gerarn nodded their agreement.

“Very well. Serndar, Gerarn, come with me,” Gilifan said.

“Gilifan,” Maernok called out.

The necromancer turned expectantly. “Yes, Maernok?”

“I want you to remember always that I work with you only because of the token of debt you hold. Had you come without that, I would have set your head above my mantle.”

“Oh, I know, dear Maernok. Believe me, I know full well.”

Maernok folded his arms and glowered at Gilifan. “Then remember also that after Ten Forts falls, and my debt is paid, I shall visit you upon the third day. This I say in front of all the orc chiefs. I don’t want any of them to think there is any love between us.”

Gilifan nodded and smiled.

Gulgarin and the other two orc chiefs looked to each other and then back to Gilifan. Gersimon gathered up the parchment and motioned for them all to follow Gilifan. The three orc chiefs and Gersimon followed the necromancer out of the caves. Once outside Gilifan stepped to the side and waited for Serndar and Gerarn to pass. Gersimon also continued on, stuffing his parchments into containers and chatting up the other two chiefs to give Gulgarin and Gilifan a moment of privacy.