Lord Serpentine Viperous Blackheart, the Tyrant of Aspberg, the Firstborn of the Godking, the Dark Lord of the Serpentine Dynasty was dressed in full battle armor. Standing high above the ground in his observation tower, he overlooked his troops on the plains of the eastern states as they made ready to do battle. The fifty foot tower had been erected so that he could observe the proceedings of his operations directly. It had a small pavilion near the rear where maps and discussions could be reviewed protected from elements or prying eyes.
He and his advisers had escaped the besieged city of Aspberg by airborne mounts five days ago. He had sent word by scrythe carrier to his troops at Keron to retreat and draw the kings forces to this place. Just before his troops had reached the rendezvous, he had fled the Citadel of Aspberg with High Branch air forces in hot pursuit. But Blackheart had expected that and the mounts he had ridden had been devils in the guise of air elementals carrying him swiftly but safely away before the gold dragon that had given him chase could close within range of its deadly breath.
Blackheart was fully aware that dragons would fight in the name of the king, but their help would draw heavily on his treasury, for dragons rarely fought for no reason and unless their own existence was in jeopardy they never fought for free. And even though the existence of the Luster Clan of dragons was endangered, not even the gods could perceive it.
The army was vast. The Serpentine Dynasty had wagered its entire future on what would happen within the next weeks. House Blackheart's family treasury was drained almost as dry as it could possibly get. He had not the financial resources left to dig a ditch to drain a field. And yet Serpent Blackheart was gripped with the icy glove of excitement.
This army was the bait. The men and the slaves would serve to draw the larger forces of High Branch into combat, then the demons and devils would be summoned. That should turn the open plain into a slaughterhouse. With the addition of foes from the nether worlds, surly the obnoxiously fair god of war would appear. Serpent placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. Reaper grew warm at his touch. Serpent wondered if the sword's power was enough to transfer the god's strength to himself.
"My lord?" Serpent's thoughts were interrupted by the approach of general Kana, his chief strategist. Kana mounted the observing platform and glanced out over the sea of yellow and black pennants that marked hundreds of companies of men and slaves.
"Yes, Kana?"
"Our supplies are in stock, but we have only enough surplus for a single day." The general presented a report and pointed out the significant figures.
"We need not worry about that, general," the tyrant informed him. "You’re forgetting that over three quarters of our army are not among the living. The animated corpses will magically follow our commands to the letter and without complaint or need for sustenance. So our supplies will last for about four days by my reckoning."
"Yes master, but," Kana broke off in mid-sentence.
"Yes?" Serpent coaxed.
"Forgive me lord for not completely understanding, but I wouldn't think that even four days would be enough for a major campaign."
"Quite right," the lord said in return. "But this will not last more than a week. Let the men know that we only have enough food for a few days. That will motivate them to fight all the harder."
"Fear not old soldier," Serpent said with a laugh. "By the end of the week you will be the greatest general in all the world, and perhaps someday soon I will personally place you in direct command of both High Branch and Pandara."
Kana smiled and bowed. "As you command, my lord. I’m simply worried because I don’t know the plan of battle nor the goal."
Serpent considered this for a moment. It had been decided that the reason for the war and its tactics would be kept secret and directed by Serpent himself. The anxiety of the general was quite understandable.
"Faithful servant," Serpent said alleviating his tactician's fears, "the battle itself is the goal, and the plan is to shed as much blood as we possibly can. We need not win the battle to win the war."
Kana nodded. Understanding was not needed. He would simply follow orders to the best of his ability. But the words of his master played on his mind as he returned to the planning staff awaiting him on the ground. Serpent's original orders had been to fortify their position and prepare to repel the attackers. It had sounded like preparing for a siege, and that is what had prompted him to point out their supply reserves in the first place. Now he was being told that they did not even need to win the battle. He had been told that even should he lose the upcoming fight he would still be honored in the aftermath. Just what did the Firstborn of the Godking have in mind?
The dread lord of Aspberg watched his servant descend the tower, then turned his attention back to the swirling mass of bodies below. "Time grows short," he said to the shadow hovering in the corner of the pavilion set at the rear of the observing platform.
"So it does, great one." The shadow approached from the shade to reveal its form. The jet black skin and upturned nose were the most attractive of its features. Its tusks curled upwards from its snout and the sickly green glowing eyes glared insanely from their sockets. The body was covered in short hair that hid any sign of gender.
This was a demon. It was a thoroughly disgusting creature that obeyed no rule save its own, and that it changed at a whim. However, at this time it had been ordered by a superior demon, a prince of the Abyss, to act as a liaison with the human called Serpent Blackheart. What his superior wanted with this man was of no concern to it. Normally it would have killed the man at its convenience, but to disobey a demon prince would certainly result in its own destruction, so for now it obeyed.
"Our sentries spot the enemy less than two days march from here," Serpent continued. "They will probably withhold their attack until both flanks are in place to cut off our retreat. That should give us about two days. If I’m right they will probably begin with aerial bombardment to soften us up then follow with a ground assault." Blackheart began pacing to and fro across the tower platform. He had planned this very carefully.
"Withstanding their air attack won’t hurt us too much. Many of the undead will fall giving the illusion that we’ve taken a crippling blow. When the enemy charges over the fallen dead, your lord, Orcus, will bring his army in from their rear. His presence will revive the dead in their midst and we’ll trap them."
"And the Dukes of Hell?"
Serpent smiled. "They will attack from the opposite flank. I’m aware of your enmity, and would not put you in such a vulnerable position."
"Orcus will be pleased to hear that."
"Do you not also serve the other demon princes?"
"This one serves only the one who sent this one."
"I see." Blackheart paused his pacing and glanced sidelong at the demon. "Have you a name?"
"None that I would tell you."
"Of what order are you?" The demon faltered momentarily. It would never for any reason reveal its name lest it give the bearer of that knowledge absolute power over it. "The fifth order, great one."
"You are a demon of the fifth order and you have no name?"
"This one does have a name, great one, just as the lowliest of demons have a name, but this one has no name of common reference."
"Then I name you, Fandaral. For I require a means of identifying you. If this dissatisfies you or your master then you may relinquish the name upon the completion of our contract."
"I thank you, great one," the demon said referring to itself in the first person. "You do me great honor. Now if you will excuse me, I wish to convey your messages to my master." In a puff of smoke that reeked of sour milk and decayed flesh, the demon was gone. Serpent commended himself. By naming the demon he had given the creature, at least temporarily, that which all such creatures desire, identity. If only for the moment he had a loyal demon. That was something he would soon need.
Serpent spent the rest of the day reviewing the establishments of his forces. By first sunset, he was satisfied that they were ready for what was to come. He ended the day with a hot meal of porridge and cheese with fresh baked bread and some cold ale. Miguel paid a visit to his tent later and reported on the army's preparedness as well as the readiness of other factions that had interest in their dealings. By this Miguel meant that the patron of House Blackheart; the god, Set, was ready to do his part as well.
"Will you not join me in this meal, my son?" Serpent offered a place at his table. "It may be the last meal we share as father and son."
"I would speak to you, father, but it’s on a matter other than your future."
Serpent leaned back. "I’m listening."
"It concerns my daughter."
"Your what?"
Miguel swallowed. "My daughter."
"Your daughter!?" Serpent Blackheart, Lord of the Serpentine Dynasty came to his feet instantly.
"Yes father, your grand-daughter." Miguel was unsure what to expect. The Blackheart line had had several female offspring, but as a rule, they were killed at birth to prevent the bloodline from falling into another name. The only exception had been those few others who had been raised as virginal sacrifices to the gods. Many of those had been taken by the gods never to have offspring nor return to the realm of the living mortals.
"Is she of sacrificial age?" Serpent was obviously disturbed, but he was not about to go into a temper tantrum. Things were too tight to lose control now.
"Not yet, father," Miguel replied. "I knew not of her existence until recently. But the auguries confirm the lineage. She is a Blackheart."
"She could be sacrificed," Serpent considered quietly.
"I am afraid not, father. She is not pure."
"Damn!" Serpent slammed a fist onto the table. "One of our oldest family covenants is broken on the eve of our greatest moment." He took a deep breath. "I’m afraid we have but one choice," he said. "You, my son must take the darkest road. Make it quick and painless, but end your daughter's life."
"Father I cannot!"
"You dare refuse me?"
"Father there has to be another way."
"It is our bond! We must obey the covenant."
"Hey what’s all the noise?" A familiar voice drifted in trough the outer entrance of the pavilion. It was soon followed by Morteous Blackheart, the half brother of Serpent. "You two’re getting pretty heated in here."
Serpent filled his brother in on the discussion. Morteous thought about the situation for a few moments. "I think I may have an answer," he said after a moment. "We do have several options but they are quite unusual and stretch the letter of the Covenant of House Blackheart."
"Well," Miguel said impatiently in a tone that bordered on desperation, "spit it out, man."
"We could sacrifice her to a god."
"Did you not hear? She is not a virgin."
"Ah, but to this god, that would not matter."
"What god are you talking about," Miguel asked.
"Why your father, the god of war of course. He would value a living sacrifice of his own flesh and blood greatly, virgin or not." Morteous smiled. "You could offer your daughter up to the new god of war and Serpent could accept the sacrifice alive. Then you," he turned to Serpent, "could marry her off to one of the other gods or even one of the Dukes of Hell in return for an alliance. The mortal nobles do things like this all the time. In fact it was a similar wedding arrangement that put Rigel on the throne in the first place. If you remember his majesty King Alpheratz III married his daughter off to Rigel's father. When Prince Alpheratz IV died of fever, Rigel was named Heir Apparent."
"Father," Miguel asked reverently. "Would you accept my daughter as a living sacrifice?"
Serpent smiled. "Of course. And I will treat with her favorably. But tell me, Miguel, you have sown wild oats before, why would you not deal with this one as you have all the others."
"Because, father, this child is the mirror image of my mother."
Serpent beamed. "Even your mother has returned in her own way to stand by our side in this new venture."
"I remember your mother well," Morteous said. "Where is this child?"
"She is in Hell in the keeping of Darwina," Miguel said.
"Let her remain there for now," Serpent remarked with a sigh. "There at least she is safe."
"Yes, father I have seen to her safety even should we fail on the morrow."
"Tomorrow?" Morteous sounded surprised. "I only recently arrived. Is it going to come to head so soon?"
"Yes," Serpent replied. "Perhaps even sooner."
No comments:
Post a Comment