Battle is no time for democracy.
Excerpt from The Beasts of the Dungeon.
REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK p^o^q REPLACE WITH LINE BREAK
Elly looked around the room, her brief interruption of tending to Marcus not having taken long. General Pator was just wrapping up the meeting, commanders Zotor and Eskna at his side.
Itmof and Kinna were on the opposite side of the table, the other six commanders busy actually directing the battle. Going from a pitch fight to a slow slog was hard on the soldiers, she knew that, but they'd impressed her. Especially because this was about as far from a traditional siege as one could get.
Morale was actually improving, too. Marcus had managed to come out smelling like roses, solving a problem no one had been even close to dealing with yet, and he'd done it with seemingly no effort.
The word 'seemingly' was doing heavy lifting there, but all the same. Overall morale improved, loyalty to the Crown was strengthened, and no one had died. A win for any general.
Now she just had to live with the fact she might have fallen harder for him than initially expected. Damn that man. The more dangerous he became, the more she liked him.
That didn't imply anything about her, she was sure. Elly focused when her general wrapped up his speech, five heads turning to her. She cleared her throat. "Do it. Sustainability is important, but holding back now is foolish. We can always arrange for more specialty supplies to be brought here from Mirrania."
"Understood," Pator replied, waving his hand. The attendant behind him started to quietly take notes, the general heaving a long sigh. Or exhaling slightly harder than normal, but for him that was the same thing. "There is another matter."
Elly raised an eyebrow at his reluctance. "Yes?"
"An Imperial retrieval team was admitted this morning, before your return. They brought a first hand account with them, but I will stress this information hasn't been independently verified yet."
A retrieval team? Oh, no, she remembered. Probably butchering the Calamity she and Marcus had killed, the vultures. Elly grunted. "Out with it, Pator. Are they making trouble?"
"Nothing of the sort," her general assured. "In fact, after their intake screening, they seem content to rest and wait out the battle. But apparently they saw signs of another two Calamities close to the corpse of your own. They were investigating it, perhaps, but either way the group seemed very sure both were coming this way."
Elly felt terror trying to grip her mind, shaking it off with some effort. "They're sure?"
"They are. Apparently there are 'subtle signs only their expertise can spot'. Their words, not mine." Pator not-sighed again. "If it's true, we will have to abandon the Eastfort. How is the Archmage?"
She felt her tone cool, not quite able to stop herself. The commanders stiffened slightly, though her general didn't. That man knew her far too well to be afraid. "Resting, and most certainly not up for a hunt. Not anytime soon. Even if he was, these conditions are nothing like before. If we leave, the army might break."
"Yet if you stay the Calamities might assault the fort," Pator finished, a grim smile stretching over his face. "Two choices, neither of them good. Just like old times."
Elly barked out a laugh. "This is nothing like old times, Pator. Damn me for saying it, but magically adapting zombies seem almost easy in comparison to this mess. The tunnel is complete?"
"I reassigned another thirty earth mages the moment the siege ended," he replied. "The original is finished, but with this many Hounds it needs to be extended by another four klicks. The work should be done the day after tomorrow."
"Good. Run evacuation drills with suitably rested companies, and make sure no Burrowers can get close. I want the entire army to be able to leave at a moment's notice."
Pator nodded, the commanders saluting. Which was unnecessary, really, but she appreciated the gesture. It also signaled an end to the meeting. Elly stretched lightly, looking forward to a nap.
She'd been awake for… she forgot how long. Too long. So a nap would be nice, and then she and Marcus could see about hunting that Champion commander.
Going after Calamities, unverified Calamities at that, was out of the question, but hunting a single Champion? Oh, that they could do. And without them the army would fall apart, which would return the enemy to their customary tribal state.
Now there was a plan. A good plan. Elly sighed.
The plan was going to get interrupted, wasn't it?
She stepped out of the meeting room, being greeted by one of her pupils. The man was wringing his hands like he wasn't twice her age, saluting stiffly when she stopped. Elly sighed. "Yiton. You're one of my Fearless Fourteen. Stop cringing and tell me what happened?"
"The King had the Imperial retrieval team arrested," the man replied, managing to straighten. "Its unclear as to exactly what happened. He has since collected his apprentices and retired to one of the towers."
"Has anyone asked him what happened?"
Yiton looked at her like she was mad, making her sigh again. The man cleared his throat. "I could send a messenger, ma'am."
"They'll probably be too scared to go into the damn room," she grunted, taking a deep breath. So much fear for such a laid-back man. Idiotic. "I'll go. Did anyone die?"
"The retrieval team surrendered before it could come to that."
Small mercies. Though if they had resisted an arrest by a monarch in power, they'd hang. Personal guarantee of safety be damned.
It reminded her how nice it was to be in charge of the military. Armies fought, and if one was better at fighting than the other, they won the war. She would leave diplomacy to Marcus, even if that gave him more power over her than she would usually permit.
Not that she minded, these days. He'd given his trust freely, and so far she hadn't found a single reason to believe he was working against her. It was nice to let someone else worry about their image.
It gave her time to meditate, relax, and build the greatest army this world had ever seen. Diplomacy tended to become simplified if one side brought overwhelming might.
She shook her head, casting the thought away. Marcus was indeed locked inside a tower, which she deemed was a strange place to hide, and she could see why no one had bothered him there.
The six Royal Guards guarding the door sure didn't seem inviting.
Elly waved them aside and was let through with silent obedience, half-plate scratching lightly over chain mail. That order was very well funded, but outfitting several hundred guards with full suits of armor was a stretch. Not that it made them any less dangerous.
The enchanted bone-daggers they carried more than made up for it, for one. The perks of serving an Archmage.
She stepped through the door and found two faces turning to look at her, their names not coming to mind. Marcus' apprentices, Don-something and dog-sound.
"Out," she ordered, holding the door open. They hesitated, Marcus still busy peering at a small wooden box. Elly narrowed her eyes. "Do I need to repeat mys-"
Marcus' voice interrupted her own, tone distracted. "I need them to keep this stable. Donna, hold the first and second matrix. Barcus, try to keep the third from falling apart. It's fine if it fails, we need to measure energy atrophy anyway."
The pair scurried over, Elly casting a curious glance at the thing. It smelled like his teleportation spell, but far, far more complex. Like the difference between a boiled potato and a noble's feast.
He moved over, a basic illusion falling over them. Marcus looked at her, tilting his head slightly. "What's up? You don't try to order my apprentices around unless you're annoyed."
Try to?
Well, yes, kind of, but still. Elly grunted. "You're doing magic."
"I am," he allowed, glancing at the box. His apprentices were whispering something or other, and she didn't care enough to eavesdrop. "Its small scale portal testing. Just initial matrix weaving until a certain point of complexity has been reached, which requires far more skill than power. I'm fine."
Whatever that meant. And of course he would say that, but it also wasn't why she was here. "I'll reluctantly trust you to know your limits, then. Not why I'm here. You arrested the Imperial retrieval team."
"And you're… displeased?" he asked, curious. "I technically didn't arrest them, either."
Elly snorted, feeling some of her irritation drain. Not even irritation aimed at him, though the flagrant disregard for his own well-being was annoying. And somewhat attractive. "That's the problem. Half measures sent the wrong kind of impression. Kill them, lock them up and return them to the Empress, whatever, but don't leave them in the middle. It shows indecisiveness, which a leader can't afford."
A shout of surprise interrupted his reply, Marcus turning back to his apprentices. Donna was poking a very splintered box, though no one seemed to be injured. Elly focused, noticing the runic wards lightly imprinted into the air.
Subtle. Unnecessarily so, in her opinion, but Marcus probably had his reasons. He'd also dropped his auditory illusion, speaking a moment later. "Leave it. Discuss what happened, combine your notes, and we'll go over it later today."
The pair bowed, taking the dismissal for what it was. He turned back to her, blinking a few times. "Sorry, you were saying?"
"A leader can't afford to show indecisiveness," she repeated, hearing the door close. She relaxed, leaning against the wall. "We should deal with them. Preferably now."
Marcus frowned. "Killing them will have consequences."
"So will letting them get away with disrespect. I assume that's what happened?"
"It was," he confirmed, shrugging. "I was tempted to just ignore them, to be honest."
Of course he had been. "Thank fuck you didn't."
Marcus snorted. "Let's go deal with them, then. I still prefer not to kill people for being rude. The human race can't take that kind of hit."
"No killing," Elly agreed. She wasn't planning on it in the first place, so that was an easy concession. "We'll keep them locked up for now, make sure they won't do something stupid in their desperation."
He raised an eyebrow. "They didn't seem overly desperate."
"You don't know?" No, of course he didn't. How could he? Elly sighed. "They brought word that another two Calamities visited the corpse of the one we killed. They probably believe the pair is making their way over here, and apparently don't have much faith in us killing them."
Marcus paused, not saying anything for a long few moments. Then he sighed, a tired, resigned sound. "That explains that, I suppose. I assume the army is being prepared to evacuate?"
"So it is."
"Good," he replied, humming briefly. "I'll go see about summoning a flock of Phantom Bats. Their stealth should allow them to evade most flying Hounds, and since we know roughly where they're going to be, locating them shouldn't be as impossible as usual."
Elly blinked, nodding after a moment. Stupid. She should have thought of that. "Have your mages do it. We both need to rest and conserve strength. Now let's go, I want that retrieval team dealt with."
He shrugged amiably, following as she led them outside. She watched him as they did, which he seemed too distracted to notice. It was strange, looking at him walk. Between one moment and the next he could vanish, reappearing a dozen feet or several klicks away, and she could almost see it.
See how his eyes took in their surroundings, probably noting how far his line of sight stretched. She watched him note down vantage points, strolling forward like no obstacle could possibly block his path.
If he had been trained to walk like that she would call it arrogance. But being able to teleport apparently made one lose certain earthly boundaries, and the way his eyes seemed to be without depth added to the picture.
Those glowed if he drew on enough power, and she supposed spatial magic did… this. Whatever this was.
She refrained from commenting on his space-eyes, though only barely. He needed to be in a certain mood to deal with the retrieval team, so as much as she enjoyed banter, it would have to wait.
Still, this was increasingly feeling like a waste of time. Not that that suddenly solved the issue, but Marcus could have dealt with this whole thing right when it happened. She would have been annoyed, but then she was supposed to deal with the army anyway. That included maintaining discipline.
Not like she ever really needed to deal with his mages, or anything. He kept those in line with the title of Archmage alone, which was just plain cheating. Which she was going to tell him over dinner, she decided. Cheaters never learned if they got away with their vile schemes.
Elly suppressed a grin, her own mood already miles better than it had been even half an hour ago. Good enough that she smiled at the retrieval team when they got to the prison complex, which really was nothing more than a spatially enlarged storage chamber inside the keep.
The guards saluted when she strode inside, though the pair of mages had eyes only for Marcus. Bah. Elly dismissed them all, only the six Royal Guards remaining behind. Those, at least, knew how to keep their mouths shut. It also added to their image, which never hurt.
Marcus closed the door without saying a word, just kind of looking at the not-prisoners. He did that, sometimes. Lost in his thoughts, debating some minor detail only he would ever know about. The Imperial spokesperson stepped towards the unlocked cell door, the twisted vines serving as bars blocking his path.
And while the door was unlocked, none had tried to escape. They weren't that stupid. The man spoke, tone faintly condescending. "Ah, the Archmage and his Life Enhanced queen. Don't listen to what anyone else says, your highness. That art is every bit the equal to magic. Now to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit, especially so quickly after our arrest?"
"Tomson," Elly greeted mildly. He didn't seem startled by her knowing his name. "I'm here to deal with you, in short."
The man whistled, gripping the vines and tilting his head. "Oh, you have that look down, your highness. I know some generals that would stiffen their spines if you looked at them like that. But we're not generals, are we?"
The rest of his team laughed, some mockingly and others in genuine humor. Elly felt Marcus step up next to her, his own tone mild.
"Are you trying to die?" he asked, seeming honestly curious. "Because to me, this behavior seems suicidal."
Tomson grinned like he was having the time of his life. "Is he getting mad? Did we insult his love? Might we finally see the wrath of our most junior Archmage? Could it be that we are so lucky?"
Marcus sighed, turning away and taking a seat on the single available chair. His eyes went vacant, magic rising into the air as he practiced Silent Gods knew what. Elly snorted, turning back to the Imperial.
"It seems you're not quite important enough to hold his attention," she observed. For the first time, Tomson's genial mask cracked, genuine irritation leaking through. Elly shook her head. "You never answered the question, though. Are you trying to die? You think the Calamities will do it anyway, right? That we stand no chance against them and death will soon embrace us all."
Tomson grunted, half turning away. "We understand Calamities better than almost anyone, girl. We track them down, observe their behavior, worm our way past hundreds of thousands of Hounds to butcher them. That brute you killed? It would have done a lot of damage. Crushed the Eastfort before making it way further towards the coast. But it would have been killed before long, and those aren't the kind of monsters I fear anyway."
"What do you fear?"
"I fear the Calamities in mortal skin," the man hissed, the last traces of humor draining away. "I fear the things that pretend to be Champions, learning and scheming and capturing. Death is something I embrace every time I do my job, but that? To be pulled apart by some apathetic creature, kept alive for weeks or months until its wrung all usefulness out of me? No. Give me a clean death."
Elly looked at his people after his rant subsided, finding that opinion to be the prevailing one. As Marcus had said, that explained a lot. Still not something she could let slide, of course.
"None of you will die," she finally said. Tomson's eyes flickered towards Marcus, which made Elly bark out a laugh. "He's already decided you don't matter, remember? Death, freedom, a gift of a thousand gold pieces each. The Archmage won't waste another second of his time on you. No, if you want to die, you're going to have to do it yourself."
And they wouldn't. She knew their type. Death by Archmage was honorable, in some ways. An indomitable force their pride could tolerate being crushed by. But suicide? That was the coward's way out, or so they thought.
"What then, oh queen?" Tomson asked, an easy smile finding its way back to his face. He was almost stroking the vines now, apparently set on being as annoying as possible. "Floggings? Public humiliation? Being sent to die against the Dungeon, our compliance assured by magic?"
Elly hummed. "Not quite. No, your punishment is going to be irrelevance. You, and your people, are going to sit here. You're going to nap, and eat, and be so very safe while the battle rages around you. And when we're done, we'll take you with us and return you to the Empress. Pulled from your rooms like cowering nobles, freshly washed and without so much as a scratch on you."
The man's eyes almost flashed with rage, and a few of his people rose to their feet. For some what she described would be paradise, no doubt, but not these men and women. No, this would hurt far worse than a flogging.
"You utter bitch," Tomson replied, sounding almost impressed. "If you think we're going to sit here and do-"
His voice cut off a moment after Marcus rose to his feet, the illusion layering over their cell like a blanket. More magic saw the door click shut, the man moving towards it a moment too late, and vines grew to latch it closed.
Marcus rolled his shoulder, not bothering to even look at the now screaming man. "It doesn't solve the problem of their public disrespect, but well done."
"Thank you," Elly preened. "And we'll deal with that tomorrow. A few of them aren't quite as headstrong as the others, so I'll pull them out and have them parade behind you, or something. So, lunch? Uhm, dinner? What time is it?"
He hummed, moving towards the exit of the prison. The Royal Guards moved with them like shadows, their presence easy enough to ignore. "Early dinner, I think, and after that I'll see about those scouts. If Calamities are coming here, I want to know about them."
Elly made a noise of agreement, falling into step next to him as they ascended the stairs.
This whole endless war business wasn't nearly as much fun as promised, but at least it had its fun moments. And winning, well.
Winning felt as sweet as ever.