The Reborn King (Book Six) (21 page)

“Come,” said Lousis. He handed his reins to a guard. “Drink with me.”

Normally, neither Mohanisi nor Lady Bellisia would partake of alcoholic drink, but on this occasion they did not balk at the suggestion.

After escorting them into the tent, Lousis tossed his sword aside and produced three bottles. By nightfall, all of them were more than a little intoxicated, though they drank in utter silence.

A report came through stating that the majority of the people who had fled the fireball had been caught and tended to. Most of them were from Kaltinor. They had been warned that, if they ran, the archers on the wall would fill them with arrows. None had known anything of the slaughter within the city.

“Do not allow the children to re-enter until all of the dead are removed and buried,” Lousis ordered the messenger. “And then only long enough to collect some belongings.”

“So what shall we do with them, Your Highness?” he asked.

“I’ll send a small group of soldiers to escort them back to Althetas.”

“You cannot shelter the world,” said Bellisia.

“Perhaps not,” Lousis retorted. “But I will help
these
children if I can.”

“And those that wish it, may make a new beginning across the sea,” added Mohanisi.

“Would your people allow that?” Bellisia asked.

“I will not give them a choice,” he replied sullenly. “The rest of the world is coming to our shores. This is a fact we will be forced to accept, be it now, or in a hundred years' time.”

As midnight approached, Chiron joined them, along with Lord Brasley Amnadon and Eftichis. Though Lousis was grateful for the company of his new friends, he dearly wished Victis was with him as well.

It took three days for the bodies to be attended. Less than fifty people were found still alive in Kaltinor, and most of these had decided to go west with the other survivors.

When the seekers returned they reported that the army holding Kaltinor had in fact been only five-hundred men strong, and that it was now hastening with all speed toward the Goodbranch. Lousis considered pursuit, but eventually dismissed the idea. It would be difficult for even the elves to catch them, and he would not risk the possibility of a trap being laid for a small force separated from his main army. As much as he longed to capture Merwood, he knew that it was time to keep moving.

As they passed by more towns, Lousis was relieved to see that these had not suffered the same fate as Kaltinor. Likely the fleeing dogs were in too great a hurry to get back to their master. By now, Angrääl would certainly be preparing for an assault. The only question remaining was, would they retreat north, or choose to meet his army head-on before it could cross the borders.

Three days before they were due to arrive at the banks of the Goodbranch, scouts reported that the army from Baltria was already awaiting them. Thousands of desert elves, together with a large contingent of humans – some recruited from riverside cities and from the Eastlands – were encamped on the west bank about thirty miles north of Sharpstone.

The hometown of Darshan
, Lousis reflected. He'd been informed that Sharpstone remained completely untouched. A good thing too. He shuddered at the thought of Darshan’s rage should he discover that the town in which he'd grown up had been ravaged. Only harm to his wife and child would be capable of eliciting a greater anger.

They had only just made camp when a courier brought him a letter from the Baltrian army. As he read it, a smile slowly
appeared. He called at once for Mohanisi. When he appeared, Lousis asked him to sit.

“The Baltrians have engaged and defeated the Angrääl force that was fleeing Kaltinor,” he announced.

The elf instantly leaned forward. “And Merwood?”

“Captured!”

Lousis' cheerful smile turned into a wicked grin. “And he knows that we are coming. The letter says he is begging to be released, and has offered valuable information in exchange for freedom.”

“And what was their response to that?”

“That the decision rests with me.”

Mohanisi’s normally stoic demeanor was now dark and dangerous. “And will you allow me to see him first?”

“I will, my friend,” replied the king. “You have my word on that.”

Mohanisi rose and bowed low. “Thank you.” Without another word, he turned and left.

Once alone, Lousis wondered if he would truly be capable of watching while Mohanisi did whatever it was he had in store for the General. But the thought of the man’s smug expression inflamed his anger; even more so when picturing in his mind yet again the countless devastated bodies of the innocent. 

Yes, he told himself. I think I will be able to bear it.

Mohanisi approached the tent with steady, deliberate strides. To him, the celebration going on all around was non-existent. A few of the desert elves had come to offer greetings, but after one brief look at his face they understood that this was not the time and quickly backed away.

The king had wanted to be with him, but his presence was required elsewhere. For this, Mohanisi was thankful. In just a few moments he would be face-to-face with the object of his fury. This was a time reserved for vengeance, and it would be a brand of vengeance that was best kept away from those close to him.

The two guards stepped aside and allowed him to pass without a word. His keen vision meant that adjustment from the brightness of the noon sun to the dim light of the solitary lamp took only a second. He saw him at once – General Merwood.

The man was sat on the ground and tied to the tent's stout center post, his clothes ripped and ragged from capture. He squinted as the sun struck his eyes. But they widened the moment the entrance flap closed and he could clearly see the tall figure of the elf standing over him.

“They told me you were coming,” Merwood said, clearly trying to mask his fear. “Are you here to torture me?”

Mohanisi knelt down to be at eye level. His face was expressionless, though his eyes burned with the fire of justice.

“Answer me, elf!” the general demanded. But his bluster quickly disintegrated as the threatening silence continued. Before long, a tear began to fall from the corner of his right eye.

In a blur of speed, Mohanisi’s hand shot out and caught the drop on the end of his index finger before it reached the man's cheek. With exaggerated fastidiousness, he then wiped it away on the front of Merwood’s shirt.

“Did you know that I would burn the people you placed in front of the gate?” he asked. “Or did you think they would flee so your men could fill them with arrows?”

“I only did what I was ordered to do,” he whimpered. “My master....”

“Your master is far from here,” snapped Mohanisi. The steel in his voice caused the man to flinch. “I want to know how you intended for them to die.”

Merwood’s lips quivered. “Darshan. Darshan was meant to kill them. We hoped his anger would drive him to leave the army and travel to Kratis alone.”

“So you
did
want them to burn. And what else?”

Merwood looked confused. “I…I don’t…”

Mohanisi reached out and lightly touched the general's forehead. There was a hiss of burning flesh, quickly followed by an agonized scream from Merwood. Mohanisi removed his finger, revealing a black spot.

“I will burn you one inch at a time on every single part of your body, which will prove to be infinitely more painful than the relatively quick death many of those poor innocent souls that you condemned suffered.” His voice was calm and his countenance detached. “Then I will remove your manhood. And when you beg for death, I will heal you and begin all over again. Know that I can repeat this indefinitely. You can only avoid this fate should you choose to speak. Do you understand?”

By the time the elf had finished speaking, Merwood’s features had already turned a ghastly shade of dirty white. The stench of urine was also filling the tent.

Mohanisi smiled. “That is good. I think we are now ready to begin.”

He interrogated General Merwood for the next three hours without pause. The sounds of merriment going on outside the tent were an ironic backdrop to the severity of the grilling as he demanded answers about the plans and strategy of the Reborn King. When Lousis finally arrived, he looked at the two of them in surprise.

“I was just about to go out and find you,” Mohanisi told him. He stood up and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I thought he would be…well…in far worse condition.”

“I have questioned him about the enemy. He lied, naturally.”

“I did not!” Merwood protested. “I swear it!”

“Silence!” Mohanisi snapped back. “Of course you did. You think I know nothing? You are no mere foot soldier. One such as you will have been in the presence of your master many times. This
much I learned from my conversations with Jacob Nal’Thain.” He turned to Lousis. “The general is incapable of betrayal. Should he attempt such a thing, it would kill him.”

“So how did you learn anything?” the king asked.

Mohanisi smiled. “You would be amazed what can be discovered from lies. When you know what is
not
true, then the real truth often is revealed.”

“So what did you find out?”

“A large force awaits us one hundred miles to the north,” he said. “They are meant to test our strength and give us a sense of confidence before we reach the Angrääl border. They want us to think that the battles in the west have diminished their ability to fight. Naturally, this is not the case. From there, the way is clear until we reach Kratis. That is where the real war will be fought. And I am sad to say, it does not appear to be a battle we can win.”

“Is that all?”

“No. They are led by a new commander. Someone in whom the Reborn King has complete faith. And whoever he is, his soldiers have great faith in him too. Also, the Vrykol are noticeably absent from their plans. No one seems to know where they are. This may serve us in battle.”

Merwood stared at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape. “How could you have divined all this from what I told you?”

“Because you are a fool,” Mohanisi said, waving his hand dismissively. “And had I the skills of Theopolou, I would have learned much more. But as is stands, we know as much as we need in order to proceed.”

“And what of Merwood?” asked the king. “I thought you intended to…well...you know.”

“I did,” he admitted. “But fortunately, I came to realize that it is not
my
justice he must face.” He paused before asking: “Are there still people remaining in Kaltinor?”

The king nodded. “Around a dozen of them. They refused to go west with the others, and I had no cause to force them.”

Mohanisi looked down at the general. “Then I ask that Merwood be escorted back to Kaltinor. There he will face the people he has truly wronged.”

Spasms of fear began to shake the man's body. “Please. You promised that I would be released.”

“I promised nothing other than I would not torture you if you answered my questions,” Mohanisi countered. “I never said that you would not be brought to justice.” He looked up at Lousis. “Is this agreeable with you, Your Highness?”

The king thought for a long moment. “My commanders would wish to interrogate him themselves first. But after they are done, I have no objections.”

“They can do as they like, they will not learn any more than I have,” Mohanisi stated. He gave Lousis an unnerving grin. “But I suppose there no harm in being thorough.”

Lousis chuckled. “Indeed. No harm at all.”

* * *
* *

Prince Lanmore gazed out over the ramparts. The chill air felt good on his skin, though for most of the men along the wall it was far too cold for their taste.
It probably would have been so for me as well
, he thought.
When I was just a man
. But now, thanks to his master, he was much more than that.

“Any news from the south?”

The high-pitched whining voice of General Jasish had always irritated him. And hearing it now, while enjoying a rare respite from the burdens of command, made him want to throw the man from the wall. He was another noble born fool who rankled at the thought that someone from the lower classes could rise so high. But unlike many of the others, he was a capable leader. A fact that, at this very moment, had saved his life.

“Kaltinor has fallen to the west,” Lanmore replied. “The enemy will be upon us soon.”

“I advised that you leave a larger force there…my prince.” The words 'my prince' were spat out as if a bitter seed.

“Your advice was stupid,” he shot back. “Kaltinor means nothing. I only left that idiot Merwood there in order to establish the location of Darshan.”

“And?”

“He is not with them.”

The short, stocky man’s shoulders sagged with relief. “That is good to hear.”

Lanmore sneered. “Is that so? Is it a good thing to not know the location of our deadliest enemy? Have you any idea of just how powerful Darshan is?”

“I think so.” In defiance of the cold weather, beads of sweat were forming on his brow. “At least, I know what I’ve heard.”

“You
think
so?” Lanmore mocked. “You know nothing. Darshan could wipe out an entire army with just a thought. He could descend from the heavens and burn every living creature to cinders with no more effort than it takes to draw a sword. Only the power of the Reborn King can stop him.”

Jasish pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. “Then it is good we have our master’s protection.”

“That is the first intelligent thing you’ve said so far. Now go tell the other commanders to muster their soldiers. We march south in three days.”

“South, my prince?”

Lanmore gave him an irritated look. “That is what I said. Now that Merwood has served his purpose and led them to believe that we cower behind our walls, we will go forth and slaughter our foes like the dogs they are. King Lousis and his army will never gaze upon the spires of Kratis – that I swear.”

Jasish hesitated. “Is it true that you are from Kaltinor, my prince?”  Lanmore gave no reply. “I see. Forgive me for asking,” the general quickly added. After a brisk salute, he hurried away with quick nervous steps.

Kaltinor
, thought Lanmore.
Yes, that was my home
.

And because of Merwood’s blood lust, it was now all but gone. Its people killed needlessly to satisfy one man’s insanity. Through the power bestowed upon him by his master, Lanmore had peered through Merwood’s eyes and heard his thoughts. He'd seen the bodies of his brother and mother sprawled out in the streets like heaps of abandoned rubbish.

He did his best to feel outrage and anger, but could muster only mild displeasure. Had the power bestowed on him stifled his human emotions? No, that could not be. He felt rage toward the army that now sought to destroy him; he felt hatred for Darshan; and he felt a love for those who were loyal to his king. He laughed softly. Even that fool Jasish. But the murder of his family was bringing forth no urgent desire for justice or revenge.

Still…no matter...Merwood had earned his reward. He closed his eyes and reached out across the vast distance separating them.

He quickly found the man. “Merwood,” he whispered. “You have failed me. You have failed Angrääl. And you have failed your king.”

“Please,” he responded weakly. “I did as you commanded. I told them nothing. I swear it.”

“You are a wretched fool.” Lanmore pressed deeper into his mind. “Little better than a wild animal. No one ordered you to slaughter the people of Kaltinor. Your only task was to find out if Darshan marched with the west's army. Nothing more.”

“But my prince. I could not escape. I only did it to give myself time to....”

“Time to what?” His thoughts were like a claw wrapping itself around Merwood’s spirit. “Time to save your miserable skin? Better for you to have died.”

Merwood was weeping now. “I beg you, my prince. “Spare me.”

Lanmore laughed viciously. “I’m not going to kill you, fool. But you will wish that I had.”

* * * * *

Mohanisi and King Lousis sat together talking by a small fire just beyond the king’s tent. Only light conversation was permitted. It had been decided between them that dire subjects had no welcome until the sun rose. Meanwhile, Chiron and Bellisia were acquainting themselves with their desert kin, and the commanders were organizing their ranks with a man from Baltria called Bevaris. He was a knight of Amon Dähl, and, from what Lousis could make of him, an extremely capable leader and tactician.

As dusk turned into night, the merriment rose to a fever pitch. Lousis had never seen such joyous abandon as that being exhibited by the desert elves. Stories of their prowess in battle were already spreading quickly about the camp. It was enough to give hope to a doomed cause.

A distraction
, he thought.
A mere distraction from all this death
. He wondered if he would ever be able to look at Darshan again without feeling anger. In his mind he knew this was not the young god's doing. It was the only path to victory. But his heart was telling him something different. If only Darshan would engage and defeat the Reborn King before they faced the enemy in battle…

He shook off these dark thoughts and returned to his wine. A short time later, Mohanisi produced a small silver flute – something Lousis had never seen him do before – and began to play an unfamiliar yet delightful tune. Clearly the elf was being influenced by the high spirits of his kin.

“Is that a melody of your homeland?” Lousis asked when the music was over.