NexLord: Dark Prophecies (33 page)

"He has no free will!  He is under
the command of the council until he has come of age," Niler
sputtered, his face red.

Mara sighed, "Everyone has free will, at
least everyone alive… regardless of laws."

"You impinge on the laws of the
state!  I accuse..."

"Are you actually going to say treason
again?" Mara interrupted.  "I have told you that I was
going to ask Gandarel to leave the city; there is no way to assign
treason to the intention to ask someone if they wish to leave a
place."

Niler was furious, and the powers to put two
words together coherently had suddenly left him, so Enolive stepped
into the gap.  "Let's put aside these various accusations
for the moment."

"By all means," Mara agreed.

"Why are you counseling the boy not to fight
for this city?  It is his duty, a duty set by the King
and his forefathers.  To allow this army to ravage the
countryside, destroy other smaller towns and villages, and
perhaps," and here he paused in horror, "even cross the Dragonback
to attack the west for the first time in history, would be a
dereliction
of the Warlord's
duty."

"It wouldn't be the first time the Togs
reached the west," Mara said and then added, "but regardless, this
cannot be helped.  I feel for the villages and towns the
Togroths will destroy, but we cannot stop them at this
time.  Their numbers are too great.  Any of our
forces who attack them would be killed, and then the Togs could
stay in the east permanently without fear of the
Guard.  Once they hold the east they could prepare for
that attack on the west that you so fear."

Enolive straightened his skinny frame to his
full height, "Nonsense, how would you know about the size of this
army?  It has not yet reached the city.  Have
you spoken with the man who first came to report their
approach?"

Mara shrugged, "I don't need to since I've
already read about it."

"Read about it!" Enolive exclaimed,
"How?"

"If you have read the prophecies of Gold you
would know of the siege, and its outcome," Mara stated.

"You’re basing your cowardice on that old
piece of garbage?  I have ten prophecies, and each is
different.  That is the worth of those documents."

Mara shrugged, "I have found this one to be
true."

Niler had regained control and now spoke,
"Well, I can tell you this, Gandarel is not going to leave this
city, whether we fight or wait out the siege."

Now it was Mara's turn to look momentarily
angry, but she controlled herself quickly.  "He must
leave.  You do not understand the danger if he does
not.  I quote, "For if the son of the Warlord is
to..."

Enolive answered in anger, "I will not stand
here and listen to you quote that stupid text, written by the hand
of a charlatan!  The truth is you are a coward, and you
wish to run before the battle commences.  You have
counseled Gandarel to have us
seal
the city so that no one can leave, except you, I
see?  You will run, and you want to take the leader that
these people turn to for their strength?  You realize
that without the symbol of the Warlord here to strengthen the
resolve of the Guard, this city could well fall?"

"It will not fall, if
battle
is not engaged the Togroths will retreat," Mara
stated, but her voice sounded less impressive to Gandarel than it
had.  Enolive was making good points that the young heir
could not refute.

"They will retreat for no reason, right when
they have this city under their thumb?  You are insane,
much like the crazy woman who wrote this nonsense.  We
must attack before we are weakened from short
rations
before they get entrenched around the
city.  Only then can we defeat the Togroths and send them
fleeing back to their Wastelands, as in the battles in the Final
war!"

Mara knew she had lost this
argument.  They would not believe the prophecy, and
without
that,
there would be no
convincing them.  She feared what would happen if
Gandarel did not leave.  "If we attack the Togroths
everyone will die, men,
women,
and
children.  They will sack and burn this city to the
ground."

"You are a coward," Enolive hissed.

Gandarel swallowed in a throat gone dry, he
was disturbed by Mara's words, and against his better judgment he
had to agree with Enolive.  With Mara telling him to
decree that everyone is to remain in the city, but then leave the
city herself before the Togroths could arrive, she seemed to be
fleeing and leaving the city to fend for itself.

"Gandarel is leaving with me," Mara stated,
suddenly her voice was different, cold and powerful.  She
glanced to Yearl and Tocor.  Yearl reached for his sticks
in the sheath behind his back, Tocor already had his metal staff in
his hand.

"What is this?" Niler stated with his eyes
widening.

"Hold!" Gandarel yelled, and even Yearl and
Tocor stopped moving for a moment. "I am commanding that the city
be
sealed; no one shall leave, not
even you, Mara.  I will see that you are protected, so
you don't need to fear."

Aerin,
Lor,
and Dono dropped to the ground from the rooftops at that
moment.  Gandarel took them in with a glance, but
couldn't spare the time for anything more.

Gandarel continued, "However, I also state
that I will NOT be leaving my post during this time of crisis, not
for anyone.  We have a defense to mount and we best get
on with it.  Any interference with these commands, by
anyone, WILL be considered treason against the state.  Am
I clear?"

Mara glowered at Gandarel for a moment, but
she did not signal to Tocor or Yearl.  Then she spoke in
one more effort to convince Gandarel, "Darel, listen to me, this
could mean the difference in winning and losing the entire
war!  This cannot be allowed; you must leave..."

"I have stated my intent and will brook no
more arguments!  I will not abandon my post, not for
Prophecy, and not from fear of my duty.  Mara, do not
make me arrest you, please?"

Mara's head bowed, as she fought for control
of her emotions.

Gandarel took this as a sign of
defeat.  He turned and headed from the courtyard, his
Guardsmen and council members following.

Hork
and his
priests were the last to go; the priest sent a glance of pure
hatred at Mara and the Willowman.  He took a step forward
toward
Yearl
but stopped when
Tocor pulled down his hood exposing his bald head and golden eyes
for Hork to see.  At this
sight,
the High Priest's eyes nearly bugged out of his
head.

Tocor peeled off one of the black leather
gloves he always wore, exposing the four tentacles that grew from
his wrist, where a human hand would normally have
been.  He pointed at the priests with one of them while
the others writhed around, seeming independently
alive.  Tocor's deep voice rolled out into the air, “Do
not approach my friend with your hatred, priest, it is
offensive."

Hork
fell to
the ground in his haste to back away from the suddenly revealed
Quarian in their midst.  Incantations of protection
tumbled from his lips as he found himself in the company, of what
he believed, was a demon.  He scrambled to his feet, the
dirt smudging the white robe of his office.  All his
battle priests now had weapons drawn as they backed out of the
courtyard, protecting their High Priest from what they saw as the
evil one's minion.

When they were gone, and Katek had closed the
gate, Mara wearily sagged onto her cane.  "That could
have gone better," she noted in obvious
understatement.  "Somewhere the Dreadmaster is laughing,
for we fell sway to his powers today, and lost a battle for which I
have been preparing for more years than you can imagine."

Aerin approached his sad looking teacher,
"We're going to lose to the Togroths?"

Mara looked at Aerin, and pulled the young
boy against her side, "No, not yet, anyway, but we lost something
more important than this siege."

"What have we lost?” he asked.

Mara's gaze was far away, but an answer came
in a whisper from her lips that Aerin just caught, "We have lost
our way; we have entered the Dark Prophecies."

Chapter Ten

"I saw the heir to Ragol's power taken by
the betrayer into the enemy's camp, and the world was cast into a
darkness not seen since the coming of the first Dreadmaster."

-  From the Dark Prophecies

Early the following morning, during the false
dawn before the sun had actually crested over the eastern horizon,
Aerin, Lor and Dono climbed high atop a city roof to watch the
ocean of Togroths approaching the sealed city.  Their
numbers were too many to count and covered the land as far as they
could see, like a tide of metal.  Some still carried lit
torches that had been used to move through the night, as well as to
burn farms and homesteads outside the city.  Fires could
be seen glowing in the distance where Togroths had ravaged the
land.  The torchlight glinted off flat spearheads, helms,
shields,
and armor.

The friends sat in silence, each pondering
their own thoughts at the approach of the
fell
army
.  It
was the first time either Dono or Lor had faced their
mortality.  There was no doubt in any of their minds;
they could not win against such a hoard.

"Gedin, there are a lot of them," Lor finally
muttered, breaking the silence.

Aerin remembered the stories he had read of
the Togroth armies of old, their descriptions had been much like
what he was seeing, but then it had just been a story, now they
were real and coming for his blood.

Aerin spoke in a subdued
voice.  "Mara has often said that the Final War was a
joke, at
last,
I understand what
she meant.  We never defeated the Dreadmaster, we only
made him wait.  He has once again come to take what he
wants."

"How can the Guardsmen stop
them?  They are outnumbered fifty-to-one, a
hundred-to-one, it might even be worse," Dono noted glumly.

"The walls will stop them," Lor noted, though
her voice was uncertain.

Aerin sat upright, "The sewers, they came in
through the sewers when we saw them in that church, do you think
that was a test?"

Lor and Dono were also up now, and Lor
said, "Yes, we need to warn the Guard!"

The three friends headed over the rooftops at
a run, as they headed for the familiar large stone structure of the
Seat.  Worried about the first Togroths arriving at the
tunnels before they could sound the alarm, Lor took a
chancy
route that she seldom considered, and
never before with Aerin.  There was one jump that
required a perfectly executed, headfirst leap to a horizontal
flagpole, which she used to swing herself up and onto a
ledge.  It was a very dangerous jump.

Lor called back to Aerin, "There is a tough
move up ahead, don't try it if you are afraid."

"I'm fine," Aerin called back.

Lor accelerated to get slightly ahead of her
two followers, so they could watch her leap.  That would
give them time to see how to make the jump, or stop if they weren't
sure. 

She saw the spot up ahead and gauged her
speed.  Her leap took her head first out
over
the fifty-foot drop to the street
below.  Her hands struck the pole and she let her
momentum swing her body around in an arc underneath.  As
her body snapped through the bottom of the arc she released the
pole and bent at the waist into a pike position before
straightening out and landing lightly on the ledge. 

Immediately Lor looked back to see how her
friends fared.  Aerin was already in the
air.  Lor realized he must have
leaped
while she was still flying.  Aerin hit
the bar a little strong, but close enough to make the grab and
start the swing underneath.  The pole bent slightly more
with his greater weight, and he released a little
early.  He came in low and Lor grabbed his arm and the
back of his jerkin to help pull him all the way onto the ledge.

"Thanks!" Aerin said with his face flushed
red.

Lor smiled, "Don't mention it."

Dono landed lightly beside them, though he
too was flushed from the danger of that jump.  "Let's not
do that one on a regular basis, OK?"

Lor nodded, "I usually save that one for life
and death
chases
, or when I'm
bored," she added with a wink, and then headed off at a run toward
the nearby gate into the Seat.

They descended rapidly and arrived at the
large gate a few minutes later.

Aerin acted as spokesman to the Guardsman at
the gate.

"We need to speak with Gandarel Trelic, it is
of utmost urgency to the defense of the city," Aerin explained.

The Guardsman frowned at the three young
people, "He's much too busy for the likes of you three street
urchins.  Be on your way!"

Dono bristled, "I'll have you know we saved
Gandarel's life!  It
was Aerin
and Lor who sounded
the alarm when the Togroths would have
slain you and your pals in your
cots
!"

The Guardsman scowled at Dono, "And I'm the
Dreadmaster's mother."

"Listen, if you don't tell them..." Lor
began, but the Guardsman interrupted.

"You'll what?” he growled, "Cry?"

Lor stepped toward the man and then suddenly
extended the movement into a spin that brought her
boney
elbow into his gut.  His breath
came out in a whoosh.  Lor snagged the hilt of his
sheathed sword, and as she danced away she pulled out the sword and
took it with her.  She stopped a few feet away and
planted the sword, point first, between two cobblestones, so that
it stood up in the street.