Chương 72: The Royal Messenger

Naytor held a pin over the map and glanced over at his adjutant.

"Read that list again, lieutenant." Marsh did as instructed. Only ten sectors had been breached. A fraction of what it was yesterday.

"Are you sure there hasn't been a problem with communications?" he asked.

"I've sent runners out to confirm, but preliminary surveys suggest that most of our outer zones are holding," she replied. For the past week, the trend had been steadily rising against them, yet seemingly overnight it had reversed in their favor. Only one explanation came to mind. He met Marsh's eye.

"No," she said.

"It can't be."

"Ask the strategy team about the changes Amberlin made. I want every little detail recorded." As Marsh left to carry out his orders, he looked out to the ghost fleet and recalled what Havlo had told him. The enemy's ultimate target was the keystone. It seemed his city had been caught in the middle of something bigger than he'd ever imagined. Little wonder that an entity like Amberlin had gotten personally involved. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a shout. One of his soldiers was pointing into the air.

Something was coming. Something completely black and well camouflaged against the night sky. There was a tense moment until his spotters confirmed it was the royal messenger. He waited to welcome the new arrival.

"Crowley! I was worried you'd forgotten about us." The ravenkin man shook his wings and furled them up against his back.

"I did say I would return today." He began with the most pressing concern.

"Did you bring reinforcements?"

"The soldiers were deployed some days before I left the royal capital. I checked on the way here, and they're crossing the peninsula right now. Expect their arrival by sunrise." This was excellent news.

"How many?" Crowley puffed out his chest.

"One hundred of the best mages in the royal army." His mood instantly soured. This evidently wasn't the reaction Crowley had been expecting.

"What's the matter? I thought you'd be happy." He jabbed his finger toward the bay.

"Look out there and tell me what difference a hundred soldiers is meant to make. Tell me, Crowley, where is my damn army? Why is the regency council holding back on me?"

"I took a look last time I was here," Crowley replied calmly. Being a frequent bearer of bad news, the man no doubt had a lot of experience dealing with other people's disappointment.

"A hundred mages should be plenty."

"Circumstances have evolved!" His volume kept rising and he didn't care.

"I warned you it would. And now my city is going to fall because the fools running the palace think they understand military matters?"

"The decision was made based on the intel they had at the time. It's on you for not sending any updates." The messenger remained infuriatingly composed. He took a deep breath to keep his rage from boiling over.

"I sent out several riders." Crowley snapped his fingers.

"Oh! The Lorear Hills had briefly fallen under the control of bandits. If your riders had to take the long way around, that might explain why they didn't get to the capital in time. Especially if they went to Lorelark first and had to turn back." The excuse sounded plausible enough. And that was precisely the problem when dealing with Crowley. Mud rolled off his feathers as easy as rain.

But Crowley had no reason for wanting the bay to fall, and Naytor had no choice but to accept that maybe the council hadn't yet received his updates when making its decisions. This thought helped him to refocus on the here and now.

"In that case I take it you didn't speak with any of my messengers on your way here?"

"I flew over the hills, so my path wouldn't have crossed with theirs. But the mage company might have. We can ask them when they get here."

"It doesn't matter," he replied.

"I can tell you what you need to know. The mucks have reached the mainland." He took some grim satisfaction at seeing the messenger's composure slip.

"You take a joke too far, governor."

"Why don't you fly around the bay and see for yourself? Then go and count the ships parked off my coast." He leaned in and whispered this next part.

"And while you're out there, check if they're still attacking the keystone." Crowley's eyes widened. Naytor stepped away from the messenger and said calmly.

"Return once you're satisfied, and we'll discuss what must be done."

When Crowley returned an hour later, Naytor took him down to his office, where they could speak in private. His adjutant joined them.

"I had to stop by the temple for healing," Crowley explained, somewhat shaken.

"I-I never expected the decay field to be that strong."

"Why'd you go into the water?" he asked.

"I stayed in the air." Naytor shared a glance with Marsh. What would happen once the decay field could have that sort of effect on their shores? Crowley was shaking his head.

"I don't understand. How did it get so bad so fast? The mucks were everywhere. Those numbers, they're making that many every night? Who in the world has this much power?"

"Someone capable of damaging a keystone. You saw it for yourself, right?" Part of his motivation for sending Crowley out over the water was to verify Havlo's claim. He'd learned a long time ago not to simply accept everything he'd been told. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Crowley shook his head.

"The decay field was too strong. I couldn't get far from the shore, even flying as high as I could—which isn't easy without good thermals. I had to turn back or risk falling out of the sky."

"So you couldn't confirm if they keystone was damaged?"

"I felt something. But you don't understand how painful that field is. I couldn't focus." Crowley wasn't a particularly strong mage, so they couldn't draw any conclusions from his experience.

"But I did see the ships," Crowley continued.

"I don't know if they were targeting the keystone, but they spelled out a message."

"A message? For us?"

"I think so. They formed the words BE WAR."

"A taunt? Or a declaration?" After a quiet moment, Crowley said softly, "There's something I haven't told you."

"With everything that's at stake, you've been keeping valuable intel from us?"

"It was the council's decision. They didn't think it was relevant to your situation. You had enough to worry about."

"Spit it out," he said impatiently.

"Annaconda is back." Marsh's face was one of horror. But within Naytor, a different emotion rose to the top.

"The lich?" he spat.

"My city is under attack by the king of the dead and you send me a measly hundred soldiers?"

"We don't know if he's actually here," Crowley said.

"The signs pointed somewhere else." But it made perfect sense if the lich was behind this. Who else but that ancient monster was powerful enough to go after a keystone? Who else could bring together so many ghosts and spawn this endless horde?

"We need the saint," he decided.

"She won't get here in time. Not with the way things are going out there." Crowley pointed to the shuttered window that would have provided a view of the bay.

"The saint isn't in Cisteen?"

"She went to hunt Annaconda. Where we thought he'd be."

"Where?"

"It's classified." He glared at the messenger. Crowley held his hands up placatingly.

"I'm already treading the line by telling you about Annaconda. Just know that where the saint is now, even I couldn't get to her in a timely manner. We need to find a solution without her."

"Is what's happening here not enough to mobilize the royal army?" he asked. While a hundred mages wasn't the reinforcements he'd been hoping for, maybe together with Amberlin's team they'd be able to hold out until the main forces got here.

"It would be," Crowley said, "if the army wasn't already deployed elsewhere. Our spies reported Shidokun amassing its army near the border, and the council didn't want them to get any ideas."

"What reason would they have to invade us?" he demanded.

"You know how anxious the council has been after the loss of the navy," Crowley replied.

"Those fools!" Naytor growled.

"They send the army to deter a potential invasion while an actual one is happening right on their foot." To make matters worse, the Shidokun border was to the north, meaning that the royal army would have to cross through the entire length of the kingdom to get to the peninsula.

"I'll return to the capital immediately," Crowley said.

"Maybe something can still be done."

"No, I need you here," Naytor said.

"What you need is soldiers."

"Soldiers, I needed yesterday. Our only hope now is to locate the lich quickly. He must be close by. On the peninsula, right under our very noses."

"Very well, then. What leads do we have?" He was surprised by how agreeable Crowley had suddenly become. Then he realized that the messenger could just fly away at the first sign of danger. Staying to help came at no risk at all to the political climber. He told Crowley about Havlo's theories. The ravenkin listened with a deepening frown and then asked a question he didn't expect.

"Do you remember the date on Lord Wanderbilt's letter?"

"The date? Why would that matter?"

"Just humor me." He did indeed remember because it had been very recent. Less than a week ago, in fact. He told Crowley.

"And this is their second night at the bay?" Crowley asked.

"Which means they got to the Indy Way Pass three nights ago?"

"Good Goddess." How had he not realized this before? Crowley nodded grimly.

"This Havlo fellow said that his companions aren't aware of his abilities, right? Which means they couldn't have flown here like me. Even if the Lorear Hills were clear of bandits at the time, there was no possible way for them to arrive when they did." And because even archmages couldn't get through the haunted hills west of Ardark, the only other option was to go north through Cisteen, which would have taken even longer.

"But that means—""They lied." He tore at what was left of his hair.

"But why? It doesn't make any sense."

"Are you sure that letter is authentic?" Crowley asked.

"Positive."

"Then there is only one possibility. They're all capable of flight."

"They're undercover sapphire-rankers?" he asked, knowing in his gut that this would be too good to be true. Crowley shook his head.

"They wouldn't have a reason to tell you the lie that they did. There's a simpler explanation. The entire thing is a ruse. They're working with Annaconda." The three of them stood in silence. Naytor was the first to speak.

"There must be another explanation." He simply didn't want this to be true. What hope would be left to them?

"Not even Annaconda has the mana to create all these mucks on his own," Crowley said.

"Even the Amber Mage could only dream of having reserves so deep. This can't be the work of a lone villain. There must be a team of them." The ravenkin's words made him think back to the rumors of Amberlin's limitless mana reserves. Spending all of last night multicasting [Fireballs] must have eaten into a significant chunk of it. And now the muck numbers just happened to drop the next day? Marsh let out a gasp.

"I was just thinking about the last time Amberlin slept. She's on duty tonight, spent all day touring the city with the strategy team, was on duty all last night, and before that had spent another entire day escorting the caravan."

"Are we dealing with a second lich?" Crowley asked in horror.

"Wait!" Naytor said, scrambling at what he hoped was a lifeline.

"She only arrived at the peninsula three days ago. How could she have fueled the mucks all the way from Ardark?" Crowley gave this some thought and responded, "How sure are we that she was in Ardark? Governor, did that letter from Lord Wanderbilt refer to all the adventurers by name?"

"It only spoke of Havlo." His blood ran cold. How hadn't he realized it before?

"But what are they planning? Why are they putting on this charade?"

"I think that's obvious," Crowley said.

"They need something from us." Naytor caught Marsh's eye and they both cried out at the same time.

"The scholars!" Pretending to pursue an artifact to keep it out of the necromancer's hands when they were working with the necromancer all along. He began to question everything they'd ever told him. All that talk about the keystone being damaged was probably a lie. Amberlin had tricked them into teaching her how their defense strategy worked. And they'd given Havlo the names of the peninsula's top scholars. He turned to Marsh.

"Lieutenant, I need you to visit all the scholars and instruct them not to help the adventurers. They must pretend to cooperate and not let on what's really going on." Crowley nodded.

"So long as they think they can get what they need from us, they won't let the city fall. I expect the swarm will be lighter for the next couple of days until they catch on."

"We need to find everyone they're working with," Naytor continued.

"Put some surveillance on them. But make sure they keep their distance. We can't afford to tip them off. We can't make a move until we confirm Annaconda's location. In the meantime we need to come up with a plan for dealing with him. While we do have a couple of archmages here, they're academics. I don't imagine they'd fare well against a lich, let alone two."

"I'll speak with the priests," Crowley said.

"Maybe they have a way of summoning the saint. She is a demon, after all." There was a brief pause while the three of them contemplated the clergy performing a demon-summoning ritual in the temple.

"It's all right, isn't it?" Marsh sounded worried.

"The Goddess won't smite us for this?"

"She won't smite us just for asking," Crowley assured her.

"It's the priests performing the ritual who've got to worry." Naytor sighed.

"If only Amaya Poshit were here. She's the one I really wanted when the archmages were called up. Not only is she capable in battle, but with her expertise in monster biology, I was going to have her study the mucks. She might have realized the connection to Annaconda long before it got to this point. It's too bad she couldn't leave Ardark due to illness."

"I'm afraid I've got bad news," Crowley said somberly.

"Poshit is dead." Naytor gasped.

"But she's so young! I hadn't realized she was that sick."

"Can we really survive this?" Marsh asked nervously.

"We were barely holding on when it was just us against the mucks. Now we're facing two liches, a party of fifth-circle archmages, and their assorted associates."

"We were always up against this," Naytor pointed out.

"All that's changed is that now we know."