Touch Of Fate 249 Enjoining Threads

Once the last s.h.i.+p was in place, Count Graveston ordered the fleet to depart. They had a lengthy haul to a beachhead where the small army they carried could be offloaded, but it looked like they would make it in time. Thanks to the experienced seamans.h.i.+p of the raiders that formed the backbone of the fleet, they'd been able to quickly dump their refugee cargo, and depart for the front lines with little delay.

The Count took a seat in his cabin, and turned to his aide, Leo, a veteran soldier from common origins who had served at his side for decades. "Report."

"Yes, sir. It seems that things are progressing more or less as you antic.i.p.ated. Although communications have become unstable due to their proximity to the Lacotians, our contacts in the coalition army have confirmed that the Dragonknight and his companions were able to defend against two separate attacks, and he is now preparing to a.s.sault their formation in earnest. As to the city, things are largely quiet, save for a ma.s.s exodus of the criminal underworld."

"Are they finally abandoning s.h.i.+p?" The Count asked disinterestedly.

"Actually, sir, it seems that someone claiming to be the successor of the King of Thieves has united them, and is in the process of leading them to join with the coalition army."

"Hmm...interesting. This could work to our advantage. Prepare a dossier with all the information we have on this new King of Thieves."

"Of course, sir, however, I do have one last piece of information to report."

"Oh?"

Leo nodded, "I believe you are aware that the Prime Minister has been missing for much of the last few weeks."

The Count shrugged, "He'd been sidelined politically, and by all appearances had chosen to retreat away from the public eye. I believe there were a few reports of him acting suspiciously, but we didn't really have the resources to waste on him."

"Indeed. We actually lost track of him for quite a while. However, he was spotted leaving the city in the company of two others yesterday, a man and a woman."

This caught the Count's attention.

[For him to be making a move...could he have an inkling of the true threat here. To what purpose, though? Individually, he lacks the ability to influence events...Unless...]

"Do we know who he was traveling with?"

Leo shook his head. "Our information is coming from one of the gate guards on our payroll, and he only barely recognized the Prime Minister after the fact. However, he did have some information that might be of use."

He pulled out a sheet of paper and began perusing it. "According to the guard's report, he'd found the trio unusual from the start. Not only were they leaving the city during wartime, but they had hardly brought any luggage with them. Following standard procedure, he asked them a series of screening questions which were answered by the man accompanying the Prime Minister. The answers were satisfactory and he was forced to let them go, but the guard thought the man's appearance a bit odd. He was deathly pale, and almost seemed to be on his deathbed, but moved with the strength and purpose of someone in the peak of health."

[A message for me, is it? Looks like that old monster decided to take action, after all.]

After a few moments of consideration, the Count gave his orders. "Ignore them for now, but have someone investigate the current status of the King."

Leo blinked, but saluted. He knew better than to question his lord. "It will be done."

The Count nodded absently, and resumed reading, only speaking up again when the aide was about to leave. "Oh, and Leo? Once our agents have discovered that the King is also missing, make sure they keep the news under wraps."

The veteran adjutant froze at the door, a flicker of fear appearing on his face before his usual professional indifference prevailed. Finally, he saluted again. "As you wish, sir."

Once Leo had departed, the Count glanced out the window with a slight smile. He watched the pa.s.sing scenery absently while mentally revising his plans in light of this new information. It was looking to be an interesting battle.

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"Are really you sure this is wise, my lord?" Tanya asked again, unable to completely conceal the tremor in her voice.

Viscount Wendel, the now infamous traitor, didn't spare her a glance as he continued putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches on the ritual circle. "My dear, we no longer have the freedom to rely on wise methods. All that is left for us is bold, daring, and some would say reckless actions. It is, unfortunately, our only way out of this mess."

They were currently sequestered within one of the few transport wagons the Lacotians had bothered to bring with them. Being an army compose entirely of tireless troops who had no need for shelter or food, their supply requirements were minimal. However, even the undead had some use for war material, so a few wagons had made their way into the army's ranks, pulled by zombified horses.
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Tanya gave him the look she used when she was still full of doubts, but had resolved to see it through with him anyway. He'd been seeing a lot of it recently. "If you say so, my lord. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Unfortunately, no. The process of forming this kind of ritual circle would be difficult under normal circ.u.mstances. Now that I have to compensate for the Lacotians' s.h.i.+elding effect, it requires every component to be perfect." He muttered while carefully pouring a crimson liquid into his most recently carved rune, filling the etched s.p.a.ce with a dark, red substance that gave off a slight glow.

It was an impressive piece of work, if he said so himself. Worthy of an expert Summoning Mage. However, he knew that it was merely a stop-gap measure, and if things didn't go according to plan, then it would accomplish nothing.

Their situation had been precarious from the start, having little to offer the ma.s.sive, armored creature that served as the leader of this army, but Wendel had succeeded in persuading the Skull Lord of his usefulness.

He'd provided detailed information regarding the Almiran defenses, as well as everything he knew about the important players that would need to be contended with. He was also the one responsible for proposing the unconventional strategy of a swarm of exploding undead birds as a means of decimating the coalition army. When that particular plan failed due to actions of the severely underestimated Dragonknight, Wendel's value in the eyes of the Lacotians had fallen dramatically.

Now that the second wave of attackers, composed of some form of wraith that the Skull Lord put a great deal of stock in, had been annihilated by that same Dragonknight, he feared that they would be viewed as spies of some kind. Based on his a.n.a.lysis of the powerful undead, it wouldn't be long before a squad of Death Knights pulled them out of their makes.h.i.+ft prison and put them to the sword.

Ordinarily, it would be a simple matter to escape the army using his...o...b.. but the s.h.i.+eld around the center of the Lacotian army would give the necromancers running it enough of a warning to disrupt the teleportation effect. When moving large distances, even the smallest interruption could be disastrous, so he was biding his time while devising alternative escape methods.

"Its unfortunate." He announced once he was done with his task, and observing the elaborate chain of symbols now inlaid in the crate in front of him.

"What is, my lord?"

Wendel gave her a quick glance, feeling a degree of pressure from her trust-filled eyes. "I was saying that its unfortunate that we have come to this. In what I can only describe as a masterpiece of subterfuge, the Dragonknight, or rather his master the Serpent, has systematically ruined all of my plans. Even my last ditch effort to ingratiate myself with the Lacotian hierarchy has proven fruitless in the face of their interference. Now, I am forced to abandon everything I've accomplished here and flee for my life...Quite frankly, its enough to make a lesser man lose hope."

He thought back to the decisions which had led him to this point. How his disillusionment with the current political structure in Almir and a driving sense of personal ambition had led him to seek an external power to back. How, when the Tenundians turned out to be useless for his purposes, he'd negotiated with a shadowy organization and provided the Dutchy with the tools necessary to win. How, when even that failed, he was forced to turn to the worst enemy of all, out of desperation.

Yet he couldn't let these kinds of setbacks get him down. If anything, the struggles he was facing now pushed him to try even harder.

[Alright. My return to prominence begins today. Once we escape, I will succeed and keep on succeeding until nothing remains between me and the power I deserve.]

Wendel glanced back at Tanya, feeling more energized than he had in weeks. He was just about to relate his renewed determination, and hopefully quash any doubts she might have about his ability, when he was interrupted by a t.i.tanic explosion which threw their wagon onto its side.

It took a few moments for him to recover enough to sit up, feeling the aches of new bruises being formed after colliding with the contents of the storage compartment. Looking around and confirming that his st.u.r.dy companion was none the worse for wear, he noticed that enough damage had been done to the covering of the wagon that he could see outside.

As far as Wendel could tell, disaster had struck the Lacotian army. A ma.s.sive cloud of smoke had formed to the south, and clods of rent earth were still raining down around them.

[What in the h.e.l.ls...] He found himself thinking, before he caught sight of a brilliant spot of light in the sky, glowing an angry reddish-white as it began to get larger.

He realized with some chagrin that he was witnessing the approach of a second meteor, not doubt summoned to finish the job.

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Mike watched as the impact struck the eastern portion of the Lacotian force, annihilating a portion of the plains in a wave of light and destruction. Once again, he'd noticed a reduction in the antic.i.p.ated force of meteor strike. Somehow the undead were mitigating the force of his spell while simultaneously redirecting it, limiting the damage to the fringe elements of their army, which was composed of their weakest and most expendable troops.

They'd been keeping their formations loose and spread out, no doubt hoping to minimize the exact kind of destruction he was now raining down on them, but his two spells had likely destroyed tens of thousands of the undead.

Unfortunately, there were still plenty more where that came from.

[Its not quite as obvious as the spatial redirection the Tenundian Mage Commander used, but they evidently have some means of altering the course of the meteor.] Mike thought as he observed the after effects. He'd aimed both spells towards the center of the enemy army, but on both occasions, they'd been pushed off course by some force.

He briefly took stock of his mana reserves, and determined that it would be at least eight minutes before he could try again. Thankfully, his newfound command of Elemental Magic had made the spell easier to use.

If he could figure out how to work around the strange redirection effect, perhaps he could still end this without having the strike force risk themselves. Unfortunately, he didn't have long until they made their move. He had, at best, one more shot. Any longer than that, and he would have to worry about friendly fire.

[In the meantime, I guess I should work on cutting down the enemy's numbers.] He thought while pulling out several scrolls of his now standardized Fireball spell. He stuffed the majority of them into his s.h.i.+rt, to keep the powerful wind currents from blowing them away.

Ensuring that he had one out and ready to use, he sent a mental command to Red, urging him to begin the strafing runs. With a thought projected shrug, the dragon folded his wings and fell into a sharp nose dive.

Mike forced his eyes to stay open, despite the intense wind currents that threatened to push him off his mount's back. Once they'd gotten close enough to see individual figures, he activated his scroll and began chanting.

A knot of skeletal undead surrounding an overturned supply wagon looked like an ideal target, so he directed the spell there. As soon as the fireball was in the air and before it had even reached its destination, he dropped the expended scroll, letting it disintegrate in the wind, before pulling out another, eyes already roving for his next target.