Chapter 6 Part 1

THE TRAITOR AND THE WELL

"So should I demand the head of my brother for his failure?" Serpent paced the floor speaking softly to no one in particular. Miguel sat at a table reading a report from the infirmary about Morteous' condition. "Nay," he concluded, "I may be a tyrant but I am no idiot. I will not waste a master warlock just because he bit off more than he could chew. Tyson never mentioned this elemental control that the mage, Ultrecht seems to possess."

"Do not be so quick to blame Tyson, father," Miguel said in a calm voice. "It is possible that he thought we were aware of that kind of magic. It is obvious from Morteous' report that the powers of a warlock confused the mage as well. Tyson did not know what a warlock was until he met Morteous."

"They are regaining more and more of their power," Serpent said. "It is going to be much more difficult to destroy them."

"We have a report that our operation was at least partially successful," Miguel offered. "A fighter, a monk and an archer were slain in the raid. That is three."

"I do not feel like a monk or an archer," Serpent commented dryly.

"Give it time, father," Miguel suggested. "You did not feel the power of the druid immediately after his death."

"We shall see," was all Serpent would say.

"There is more news," Miguel said changing the subject.

"Our armies are drawing attention?"

"They are," Miguel confirmed, and quite blatantly, I might add. Already Seron and Elmendor have sent delegations to Kesron to petition the king to release the legions of High Branch."

"And what has King Rigel to say?"

Miguel laughed. "His Majesty is not convinced that a danger exists to the Pact." Serpent's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Even after we have raised an illegal army?"

"So it seems, father." The dark lord of Aspberg thought in silence for a moment.

"Perhaps," he said at last, "the king needs a little dose of reality."

Miguel gave a cruel smile. "You have something in mind, father?"

Serpent Blackheart stood and addressed the tapestry containing the giant map of the world. "If we quickly send a strike force to Kesron by ship," he started.

"We could lay siege to the capital within a week," Miguel finished. "But the armies of High Branch would march just as quickly. We would be caught in the open around Kesron."

"Perhaps," Serpent admitted, "but if you were the king, what would you think if you saw a fleet of strike barges coming down the Caleko River?"

"I would send for help of course."

"I think our rather old but cowardly king will do likewise."

"Father," Miguel said sincerely, "If we do this, if we openly violate the Pact of Quatar, if we start aggression, the whole world may turn against us."

"High Branch itself is a force more than we could handle without our allies, but if the rest of the world should oppose us we may not have forces to hold out against them." Miguel stood next to his father.

"We only have to hold out long enough for me to slay the god of war," Serpent reminded him. Once done whether we are victorious or defeated, we succeed in our plan."

"And if you fail to defeat the god?"

"Then no force in the universe will be able to save us. The gods, good and evil, will hunt us down and destroy us all. Even Set will turn against us to save himself." Serpent paused and faced his son. His face was hard and cold. "I will not fail," he said.

"And we will not have to face their forces of High Branch at the capital. The siege on Kesron will be carried out by a phantom army. We will send just enough militia to keep the gates of Kesron closed and their defenses busy. Thanks to the Pact that should not take much."

"When High Branch marches to the aid of the king," he contimued, "we shall attack them from ambush with our main forces. Caught unawares we stand a grand chance of defeating them in a blood bath of such magnitude that even the most peaceful of gods will view the conflict."

Miguel fell to his knees. In his father's oration, Serpent seemed to have grown dark and tall. His eyes flashed like lightning and his voice was like thunder. "Father," the young priest said reverently, "only you would conceive of the plan and dare violate the Pact of Quatar. Only you have the power to do the deed before us, and only you can lead us to victory."

Serpent glanced down at his son's adoring gaze. He reached out and stroked the younger man's brow. "Arise my son," he said tenderly. "You are my one true joy in this world, and you shall be most favored of me when I enter into my rightful divinity." Miguel stood and embraced his sire. "Now go," Serpent told him. "Go attend to your uncle's hurts. I shall need his power in the days to come.