Geneshan officers shouted orders and troops sprinted by in a frantic commotion, heading toward the storm of sorcery as we snuck through the enemy’s camp. All the while, bugles blared and drums thumped.
The beauty of all that panic was it made our job easier. The spell of concealment Ava used was one she had put into practice many times before. It didn’t turn us invisible, but it confused anyone who noticed us. A person might assume they saw something else or in some cases forget altogether what they had been doing. It was a great spell, but not without its limitations. Those like me with a resistance to sorcery could usually see through the illusion.
We passed halfway to our goal. The enemy soldier was scrambling out of a latrine to join his squad and came to a grinding halt. He did a double take, pointed, and opened his mouth to warn others. I withdrew a knife quickly and pounced. The edge of my blade slid across his throat. Blood poured down his neck, covering his chest.
I froze for a moment when I looked at him up close, seeing what I hadn’t seen seconds before.
The soldier looked no older than fourteen. About the age my daughter, Myra, would be now. That shook me. I ordered Hamath to dispose of the body while Dekar kept a lookout for other Geneshans lagging behind. The immediate danger of our situation was the only thing that prevented me from dwelling on ending the kid’s life. I knew his face would haunt me at a more opportune time.
By the time we reached the base of our target, the blood-red sky of dawn had passed. We crested a small rise that led to the larger hill we still needed to climb. It afforded us a better view of the battlefield. A brightening yellow illuminated the teaming masses below.
Armies swarmed atop each other like ants. Large companies attempted to flank and outmaneuver their opponent until clashing once more in a horde of steel and flesh. Despite the sweat on my skin from the morning heat, a small shiver ran up my back. Though it had been many years since I had fought in those tight presses, the smell, the fear, the general uncertainty of where death would come stabbing in from, never left me.
A scent of pine from nearby trees masked the sulfuric odor of the brilliant violet and blue flashes of sorcery. Dark shafts of crimson descended from black clouds that slowly blocked out the sun. Given the distance and the chaos of it all, I had no way to tell who held the advantage. Based on what we could hear, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Neither side would be the same afterward.
I called for a halt behind a patch of ratty bushes.
Ava already sat with eyes closed in concentration.
Her eyes opened a moment later, and I saw something I had rarely seen before. Fear. She leaned over, trying to hide her emotions. “It’s here,” she whispered in a quivering voice.
“You want to be more specific?”
“It. The gods-cursed artifact the Geneshans were rumored to have found.”
My throat tightened. “Are you certain?”
“Pretty certain. I’ve never been around it so I don’t know its signature like I would some of our weapons. Whatever it is, it’s more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt. That must have been why they said ‘we’d know it when we see it.’”
I blinked. That changed things.
All cultures had stories of ancient weapons somewhere deep in their history, lost because of natural disasters, world events, or sheer stupidity. Everyone searched for those weapons, though few found them. In the rare cases that one was found, it almost always fell short of the myth bestowed upon it.
That was what happened to us. In the early years of the war, the king diverted resources to finding the mystical artifacts in Turine’s past, hoping they would tip the scales in our favor. All that work, all the lives lost in mudslides and cave-ins, brought us very few benefits. The artifacts did do some pretty useful things like one that always found drinkable water regardless of location. However, none of them actually helped the grunts fighting on the front lines.
Rumors came out a few weeks back that the Geneshans had found their “holy” weapon and this one might be everything it was thought to be. I never believed it. I assumed the Geneshans were feeding us a bunch of false information like we did to them. My assumption changed when I saw the look in Ava’s eyes. Whatever she felt, it had her shaken.
I blinked and then kept on blinking. I needed to do something while I gathered my thoughts.
“Tyrus?” Ava’s voice had lost some of her fear and found a bit of frustration instead.
I cleared my throat. “Give me a second.”
Like everyone else, she looked to me for a way to get out alive. The best option really wasn’t an option at all and that was to desert. Those pressed into the army hated the years stolen by war. Those who volunteered eventually felt the same when they realized that once in, they could not voluntarily leave. However, we all respected our fellow soldiers too much to just leave. And as crazy as it sounded, a part of me still believed in the ideals of our king. If he said the Geneshans were evil and needed to be stopped, then who was I to question him? I sure hadn’t seen anything to contradict that view.
“All right, what are we facing up there?” I asked her.
“Two dozen. Four D’engiti.”
“Four D’engiti?” hissed Ira.
Dekar elbowed him, but it was too late. I had been too caught up in my discussion with Ava about the weapon to realize Ira had drifted over. Heads had all turned, eyeing me closely.
“Well Ava, the D’engiti are yours,” I said. The Geneshan creations were tough, but a good mage could tip the scales back in our favor.
She licked her lips. “Sorry, big brother. There’s still a Master Sorcerer up there along with two squad level sorcerers.”
More muttered curses came from my unit than I may have ever heard in my life. I was among them, wondering how much I truly believed in the ideals of my king with each passing breath.
I wanted to ask Ava to double check her numbers, but knew she probably had already done that at least a half dozen times before telling me.
“You want me to go take a look at things?” asked Hamath.
My second’s face had turned grim. Everyone knew what the odds meant. The chances of any of us surviving this assault were slim. That being said, some chances weren’t worth taking.
I shook my head. “No. We’re going to rely on Ava’s report for now. The last thing I want is for some sorcerous trap to snag you and warn them of our approach.” I swung my head back to my sister, who had her eyes closed again. “Ava, can you draw something up?”
“Working on it.” She opened her eyes after seeing it from a distance with sorcery. “All right. Got it.”
We crowded around Ava as she drew a crude outline of the post in some dirt. I constructed a quick plan based on her map with the understanding that things might change once we got closer. Since we still had roughly another two hundred fifty yards to climb, we’d stick together a bit longer.
Hamath took point. Ava stayed a step behind him in case we needed her.
We took our time moving for obvious reasons, but especially since I had Ava cut off the concealment spell. Ava was so good at them that most of our own High Mages had trouble detecting us when she used them. Still, I wasn’t about to underestimate the skills of the enemy’s mages.
We made good time considering our trepidation and the fact that the sun left us exposed. Adding to our misery, the mud we coated ourselves with had begun to crack and peal in the heat of the early morning.
We came to a halt eighty yards out. Since we hadn’t encountered any traps or even a sentry for that matter, I changed my mind and decided to chance sending Hamath up alone. It’s not that I didn’t trust Ava, it’s just hard for sorcery to see everything as clearly as a set of eyes.
Hamath crawled off while we all laid low, weapons drawn.
No one made a sound.