The Tervola blasted away as they withdrew. They salvaged the bulk of their army. He tried to pursue them, but each mile they covered lessened his control of his warriors.
It wasn't till the last redoubt had fallen that he flew over to join his army.
Sahmanan returned from the desert. "He's back in his temple. I can feel his rage and fear from here."
"He shouldn't have tried to trick me. Look here. We've won. They can't stop us now. There aren't any more big barriers."
"What happens when you destroy them? Go on till the only people left are the dead you command?"
He looked at her, and sensed a touch of loathing, of incipient hatred. "Let me be, woman. I have only one goal. The eradication of Shinsan. We'll worry about what's next when that's done."
"I thought you'd say that."
"What do you mean? Never mind. Let's go. We have an appointment at a city west of here. If we move fast they won't have time to prepare. And we can catch up with the refugees."
Sahmanan shook her head dolefully, led him to their dragons.
For two days Ethrian patrolled the remote flanks of his host, seeking recruits. His efforts were hardly worthwhile. Only the very old, lame, and weak had stayed behind.
He recruited them. He took anything that would move.
The third morning after the Tusghus crossing Ethrian departed a wood and found himself facing Northern Army across a small plain. "I don't believe it. Where do they get the nerve? After what we did at the river."
Sahmanan laughed. "You said they were the best. You said they don't frighten. You said they wouldn't have time to prepare that city. What else could you expect?"
"I don't know."
This time the enemy came to him. They cut their way through the recruits. They slashed deep into his better soldiers, whose efficiency suffered from continued decay. They went after legion dead incorporated into his army. They brought with them portals mounted on wagons. The fighting continued till it seemed both armies must be destroyed. Then the legions withdrew.
Ethrian wept in rage.
They had taken back their dead. They had robbed him of the seed of a new host. They had left him with fewer than twenty thousand bodies able to hobble or crawl.
He reviewed them in the dawn. They were gaunt, stinking, horrible things all, clad in rags, with limbs lost, chunks torn from their flesh, missing ears or noses or eyes. Maggots crawled in their flesh. "Looks like the earth opened up and a battlefield yielded its ancient dead."
"And you want to go on?" Sahmanan demanded.
"I intend to destroy them. I'll find a way."
"They bought another day. They'll be another day ready."
"So be it." He marched westward, leading his shambling, dragging parody of an army. "It doesn't matter," he said. "Destiny rides with me. I know. I hear its voice. I was chosen. I was anointed. I am the Deliverer."
Sahmanan stared at him, aghast. The madness had enslaved him. "I don't want to die," she whispered. "Not for your nightmare or the Great One's."
Next day they came to the city called Lioantung.
Ethrian had made a spirit-visit by night. He had seen the panic-stricken mobs streaming westward, leaving the city to the army. He had had an inspiration for his attack.
It would take time, but time he had. He had been into the minds of those legionnaires who had served him briefly. He now knew that stubborn pig of a Lord Ssu-ma would get no help. Shinsan had bigger troubles on another frontier.
He was in a gay mood as he surveyed the city walls.
12 Year 1016 afe
The Day
IDON'T LIKE THIS, Bragi," Varthlokkur whispered. "I've never liked transfers." Serpents the size of anacondas were at play inside him. He borrowed a trick from the enemy and began silently chanting the Soldier's Ritual.
"What?" The King thumbed the edge of his sword. "Why not? What's wrong?"
"They scare me," Varthlokkur admitted. "There's something that lives in the transfer stream... I detected it way back when I was a student. Something huge and shadowy, that snaps up the unwary traveler." Varthlokkur scratched his forehead. His skin was wet and cool. Was he pale as well?
Bragi looked at him oddly. "How often does it happen? Can't be too often or Shinsan wouldn't use them all the time."
"Seldom," Varthlokkur admitted. "Once in ten thousand times. And I haven't heard of anyone disappearing in the last four or five years."
"Those are pretty damned good odds. Whoa! There's the signal, Ch'ien says. Ready?"
Varthlokkur nodded reluctantly. He did not want to make the transfer, but a man had to do what he had to do. He gathered himself together.
Bragi sprang at the waiting portal. The wizard heard an echo of curse and metallic clash, cut off suddenly. Then he was through and in the midst of it himself. He unleashed a spell meant to blind the defenders. The King howled.
"Damn it, I told you to keep your eyes shut!" Varthlokkur roared.
The King shouted, "The doors! Grab the doors!" They were in a great hall of some sort, rather like the ground floor of a public building.
The wizard had no time to sightsee. He applied the flat of his blade to the behinds of soldiers stumbling out of the portal. "Move it!" he shouted. "Over there. Block that hearing charm."
Wild spells ranged the eastern headquarters, caring nothing for allegiances. Priceless tapestries went up in flames. Works of art wrinkled and blackened, or sagged and began to run like wax in the sun.
Lord Ch'ien arrived and took charge of the friendly Tervola. In fifteen minutes the inner headquarters was secure. In five more Lord Ch'ien had made peace with the garrison outside. Shinsan's soldiers avoided becoming involved in the squabbles of their nobility. These men just needed assurance that the headquarters hadn't been invaded by Matayangans.
"All secure here," Varthlokkur said. Lord Ch'ien agreed.
"For now," the King said. "Better see how the other groups did. Varthlokkur, send some messengers."
The wizard grabbed one of Lord Ch'ien's assistants and quickly adjusted several portals. He chose soldiers and sent them through. They were back in seconds.
"Baron Hardle has taken his objective," Varthlokkur told the King. "But Colonel Abaca is in trouble. He dropped right into Lord Kuo's lap."
"We'd better get there before Kuo closes the portals."
"It could be too late already," Lord Ch'ien said.
"The more we talk, the worse our chances." The King charged the portal Varthlokkur had reset. The wizard followed as closely as he dared, the snakes in his gut coiling and writhing once more.
They exited into a vast cavern. The nether end was a den of chaos. Abaca was cornered, making a last stand. Varthlokkur hurled a vicious spell of corruption. A dozen eastern soldiers rotted where they stood. Then he was too busy using his sword to loose more than the occasional nuisance spell.
He was cornered, battling an equally inept swordsman, when Lord Ch'ien announced that Lord Kuo's people had decided to surrender. He dropped his guard, sighed, shook his head. His opponent, a mere Aspirator, smiled weakly. "It's over, Lord."
"Aye. Come here. You're as nicked up as I am." They supported one another as they limped over to where Lord Ch'ien and the King were assembling the prisoners.
Baron Hardle, who had led the third assault team, staggered up to the King. "By God, sire, we pulled it off."