Maker of Fire

Hoydee on the Stem, Impotu, Growing Season, 6th rot., 10th day

On the morning of the tenth day of the sixth rotation of Growing Season, a Foskan force cut off all three roads into the city of Hoydee on the Stem River. To control Hoydee was to control Erdos, so went a famous saying. Fully half of the continent's river-based commerce passed through Hoydee. Because it was a linchpin in the trade network, the merchant houses of Hoydee juggled deals and commodities from Inkalem to Mattamukmuk. Because of Hoydee, Impotuan currency was accepted everywhere. A line of credit with a Hoydee bank was better than noble blood in some parts of the world. Hoydee mattered.

The garrisons from Kipgapshegar, Ashar, and Inkugi departed their respective cities at forced marches, heading for Hoydee. Before those reinforcements could arrive, the Foskans set up a bombardment of mortar shells that fell onto Hoydee from high above the city. The city's barrier defense was designed to prevent ballistae and trebuchet loads from breaching the walls from the sides. Overhead bombardment by exploding bombs was new to warfare, so Hoydee lacked an overhead barrier.

Hoydee was the home of the Valiant Shrine of Erhonsay, which was now mostly empty. Around half of the instructors and most of the trainees of the Shrine were living there, but the majority of the clergy was gone. High Priestess Ilsabess and the Impotuan war mages were missing, having fled the Empire after the destruction of Salicet.

The remaining Shrine faculty devised an overhead barrier, which they put into place overnight. On the first day of the seventh rotation, the city defenders expected a renewed assault of overhead bombs. None fell. When the defenders inspected the enemy positions at mid-morning, the camps were empty. Not a single Foskan soldier was present.

General Bobbo, Outside of Kipgapshegar, Growing Season, just before the dawn of the 7th rot., 1st day

“Hear me, Sassoo, Lord of the Hunt and Father of the Winds. Favor us in our cause to bring the sacrilegious wreckers of shrines to justice,” Bobbo prayed out loud for strong winds from the southwest as he used the long wooden spill to light the woven cotton wick. The oil-soaked wick caught fire and burned quickly into the mouth of the clay-lined pit of sulfur. Bobbo's troops dug fifty of these pits the day before and filled them with sulfur from both Kas and Salicet.

The sulfur in Bobbo’s pit blossomed with blue flames. The rest of the soldiers tending the pits saw the blue fire and lit their own sulfur. In the smudgy dark before dawn, fifty blue fires dotted the mountainside facing the city.

“That is a lovely sight to behold, Legate. Give the order to march upwind or in any other needed direction to get out of this smoke," Bobbo directed his current aide, a young silverhair tailing him on Fusso's orders. Fusso had several young mages set up in shifts to follow Bobbo around.

“Orders are conveyed, My Lord,” the aide reported.

“Let’s go, then,” Bobbo winked and started a brisk run on a horizontal traverse to the northeast. Bobbo’s practiced eye estimated that his aging legs would escape the growing smoke zone faster than running upwind, which was also uphill. A pair of senior over leaders, the kind that were in their second decade of soldiering, saw him pass and followed. Several more fell in behind them. When Bobbo was back at the head of the center, he saw that over twenty soldiers followed him out of the sulfur pit zone before returning to their regular posts.

“Are you not worried that we could start a wildfire, Sir?” the aide asked Bobbo.

“I’ll be worried if we don’t,” Bobbo grinning like a little kid who was up to no good. “The smoke from the burning sulfur is supposed to be bad for eagles and humans alike. Mixed in with wood smoke, we can make the whole city sick. This cooperative wind out of the southwest will blow the smoke straight into their faces.” Bobbo was pleased with the shocked look on the poor Legate's face.

“Do we have enough troops to garrison a large city like this, Sir?” the curious aide inquired after a moment of thought.

“No, we don’t,” Bobbo’s grin got deeper. “Such a shame.”

“My Lord?” the poor aide was sinking in Bobbo’s wake of exuberance.

“Legate Kisherlos,” Bobbo leaned against a tree, “our objective is not what you think it is. We are not here to take this city.”

“We’re not?” the young silverhair looked confused.

“Granted, if the city wished to surrender, I wouldn’t refuse,” Bobbo explained, “but our real purpose here is focused. All we need to do is capture or kill Empress Arkalla Ugi and her last living grandson, Arkashar. The fate of the city doesn’t matter.”

“But if we attack, what will stop the Empress and her grandson from escaping?”

“Our other secret ambush forces,” Bobbo smiled, feeling not the least bit sorry for the Empress of Impotu.

“Our what?” Aide Kisherlos squeaked.

Bobbo just laughed.

Usruldes, Kipgapshegar, Growing Season, 7th rot., 1st day

The growing light of dawn obscured the first orange flash of the mortar, but Usruldes heard the flat, low-pitched clapping noise the mortar tube made. He searched the sky over the mountain to the southwest for the smoke trail of the mortar shell. He didn't find it.

The roof exploded on one of the expensive townhouses across the park from the Summer Palace. If he had been visible, Usruldes might have laughed, but he and his wraiths were in Kipgapshegar under charms of circular light. Today would be the culmination of two seasons of effort. No matter how amusing he might find his current circumstances, Usruldes maintained his silence. He could not afford any mistakes today.

As his eyes began to itch a little, he noticed a faint but foul burning smell. He hoped his own business here was finished before the effects of the smoke became unbearable. He took out the shaped face mask with the layers of charcoal and quilted fabric. Then he closed his eyes and cast the charm of sightless sight upon himself. He needed to stay close to the two members of the imperial family today, no matter the cost. To be completely prepared for anything, he also cast the charm of dark vision on himself because he knew it worked with the charm of sightless sight.

*Center district, north seven, east six,* a spotter mindcast by matched crystals, *building four west.*

Usruldes smiled behind his mask. Over the last half-year, his wraiths and spies had made maps of Kipgapshegar and its environs accurate to the finger. Those accurate maps made it possible to adjust the mortar angle to perfect the aim. The artificers at the Building Shrine of Giltak spent most of a season experimenting with shell charges and firing angles. The result was a book of tables showing the distance to a target versus the firing angle for different sizes of shell charges. Usruldes was confident the mortar crew would be on target quickly.

Usruldes estimated Bobbo’s sole mortar had less than a tenth of a bell before the city's mages erected an overhead barrier. Before then, he hoped General Bobbo’s mortar soldiers could hit the palace multiple times. The morning’s plan would work best if the residents of the Summer Palace were panicked. He wanted Empress Arkalla to have difficulty getting out of the palace.

Usruldes heard the clap of the next shot. He had time to breathe in and out and then in again. Then, the front gate into the Summer Palace grounds exploded, sending the bodies of guards, pedestrians, and stonework flying inward into the palace's parade ground. Usruldes grinned because he knew the next mortar shell would hit the middle of the palace's roof.

*Center district, north eight, east seven, west palace grounds gate, northwest corner,* the spotter mindcast.

The next clap of the mortar came almost immediately. One and a half breaths later, the middle of the palace roof exploded. The wooden roof beams and planking under the slate tiles caught on fire.

It was time for Usruldes to make his next moves.

*All spotters out of the city,* Usruldes mindcast at his wraiths. All the regular spies had left the day before by the Zup Valley Road toward the Ahkeseld River. *Snow Bear, break the instant fire bomb,* Usruldes ordered.

Yesterday, Mole, a former Priest of Gertzpul with a talent for earth magic, planted a basket full of sulfur in the palace's wine cellar. In the center of the basket was one of the glass globes the Queen made filled with white phosphorus. The sulfur smoke would make the Summer Palace uninhabitable in less than a bell, forcing the Imperial family members to leave for more breathable quarters. The job of Usruldes and Snow Bear was to catch the two Imperials before they could flee into one of the escape tunnels or to one of the city's two Shrines.

Pandemonium began in the city as the sulfur smoke thickened. Fifty mounted cavalry on eagles erupted from the citadel in the back of the palace. They flew toward the plume of sulfur smoke on the mountain southwest of the city, directly upwind. Usruldes turned his head away to avoid watching their deaths, which he knew would be painful and horrific. The fliers and their eagles would die using the method Usruldes invented last year in Black Falls: an invisible, mounted wraith would drop an instant fire bomb on an enemy-mounted mage and explode it.

Using instant fire bombs to take out the flying cavalry wouldn’t have worked if the whole garrison had still been in the city. He only had twenty-two wraiths and their eagles with him. Fifty enemies were manageable, but three hundred were not.

At least three hundred mounted mages had escorted the bulk of the Kipgapshegar garrison toward Hoydee the day before. By now, they might be heading back as fast as they could fly. He was counting on finishing his business before they arrived. Besides, the duty belonged to Imstay to confront the Impotuan cavalry if they returned before Snow Bear and Usruldes were finished. Usruldes would need to trust Imstay.

Granted, Usruldes thought to himself, Imstay was many things. He was charismatic, ambitious, exuberant, conniving, manipulative, as chummy as your best friend, as duplicitous as a fake potion seller, more frightening than the kingdom executioner, and more intelligent than he appeared. Imstay was also a man of his word. If he said his troops would intercept the returning Kipgapshegar flying cavalry, then it would happen.

How fast would the sulfur smoke from the wine cellar spread? Usruldes hoped it would take out one or more of the four mages who formed the Empress' day-and-night security. They maintained a barrier around her that traveled with her everywhere, except for when she was flying on her eagle.

It was time. He wrapped himself in misdirection, shadows, and forgetfulness and became one with the outer barrier of the palace. Many breaths later, he passed through without alerting the forces that guarded Empress Arkalla. Soon, he was walking down an outside stair into the cellars of the palace, where the food stores were kept. He had to run back out in a hurry to avoid the servants using the stairs to escape the spreading smoke and fire.

By the time the servants fled up the cellar stair, the kitchens on the first floor of the back wing were engulfed in flames.

Would the fire and smoke make two underground escape passages too dangerous? If Empress Erkalla or Heir Presumptive Arkashar attempted to exit through either, they might pass out or die from inhaling the smoke. Knowledge of the tunnels was recent and was due to Usruldes' own work. The exits outside the city were now surrounded by magic traps and Foskan war mages. If the two Imperial family members tried to escape by either tunnel, they would be captured.

If they fled some other way, it was up to Usruldes and Snow Bear to capture or kill them. He should have delegated the assassination or capture of the Empress, but he didn't want to. He wanted her for himself. The angry beast inside of him, the one that murdered three hundred soldiers because they attacked the Healer Kayseo, wanted to see Arkalla die. Arkalla started this war, and her soldiers raped, tortured, and mauled Pinisla Heir Kayseo, a full priestess and healer of Mugash. They cut off her feet, sliced off her breasts, gouged out her eyes, severed her tongue, snipped off her nose, and whacked off her ears. Arkalla's suffering today would never approach what Kayseo suffered; however, an untimely death was still a robbery of her most precious possession: her life.

He gave up on entering the cellars. Instead, he found a comfortable perch in a tree, cast a charm of immobility on himself so he wouldn’t fall, and then used his deepest trance to survey the palace and its grounds.

Usruldes found Arkashar in one of the two tunnels, along with two of the three war mages who watched over him day and night. He conveyed the information to Imstay so the boy could be taken into custody. Capturing the Heir Presumptive would be easy—too easy. Something about the situation left Usruldes feeling like something was out of place.

*Snow Bear, where is the third of Arkashar’s war mage guards?* Usruldes mindcast, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

*I don’t know, Spider,* Usruldes deputy cast back. *The boy is in the west escape tunnel, so does it matter?*

*Whoever is in the tunnel will be captured, but what if it is a body double?* Usruldes replied. *We know he has one. Find the third guard, please. I will be hunting Arkalla.*

Usruldes knew Empress Arkalla's routine so well that he felt he knew her better than his wife. Of course, he had never spied on his wife like he had spied on Arkalla. He even knew what Arkalla liked for bed play.

Usruldes had a momentary thought that maybe he should spy on his wife like he spied on Arkalla. He might be able to surprise Oyyuth in some unexpected way if he did. Then, he discarded the idea because every man's wife should be able to keep her own secrets. Oyyuth gave him room so he could live as he wanted. He needed to do the same for her.

He discarded his thoughts of the lovely Oyyuth as he searched for Arkalla in all her usual places. He didn’t find her. With the sun just up, the Empress usually finished her bath after a short workout with her halberd and her personal weapons master. Morning repast should be waiting for her at her personal dining nook, just off her bedroom. Instead, her meal was missing, and her rooms were empty. Clothes were scattered on her bedroom floor.

Usruldes stretched his search, hall by hall, room by room, looking for Arkalla and her four guards. Then, he found her exiting the front of the palace onto the parade ground, surrounded by others escaping the burning building. She was gasping for air and rubbing her burning eyes like everyone else. She was wearing a palace guard's brigantine and bronze plate arms and legs, and her four silverhair guards were wearing the same. They all wore helms that obscured their faces.

One of the five carried Arkalla's halberd, but Usruldes knew it wasn't her. The halberd user was too short. Arkalla was a silverhair who was bigger than her mage guards. She couldn't hide her height. If she was as good as her daughter, Arkalla would be a challenge for Usruldes in a fair fight. Rumors were that the Empress was a better fighter than her daughter, and that prospect made Usruldes nervous because he might need to fight her soon.

Usruldes had no intention of fighting fairly.

Empress Arkalla was walking in front of her four silverhair guards. Marching two by two, the four mages wrapped a barrier around her that only someone with powerful body clairvoyance could detect. The barrier was an artful and complicated piece of magic. It traveled with Arkalla as she walked toward the destroyed front gate of the palace grounds. A group of guards and servants had already cleared a path out the front gate and onto the main north-south road through the city. Now, they were widening it. The best place to stop Arkalla would be before she left the palace grounds and disappeared into the city. Usruldes had to prevent Arkalla from reaching the front gate.

Arkalla had magic protection wrapped around her, courtesy of her four mages. Sadly, her mages had no protection other than their own numbers and armor. Usruldes apologized to them in his head as he walked up behind the back pair of mages. One must have had good battle precognition because her sword was in her hand, and she was twitchy and looking for threats. His thrusting spike with its triangular cross-section slipped in under the back of her helm, just above the top of her gorget, and into her brain stem from behind. While she fell silently to the ground, Usruldes stepped to the front of the group to slip the spike between two brigantine plates of the front left guard; he punched upward to pierce the guard’s heart. As the back left guard caught the front guard’s body, Usruldes slit her throat with the long iron knife waiting in his left hand.

With three mages dead, the fourth could not maintain the moving barrier for Empress Arkalla.

*Mortar crew, please drop a shell on the gate into the palace grounds as soon as possible,* Usruldes mindcast as he flew upwards out of the way, keeping his eyes on Empress Arkalla as she spun around, looking for her assailant.

"Assassins! Assassins!" Arkalla shouted. "All guards to me!"

Recognizing their Empress’ voice, several guards in both palace and city garrison uniforms started running toward her, pulling out their weapons.

A great noise left Usruldes ears ringing. He was glad his eyes were shut because of the sudden swirls and billows of dust and debris. Despite his altitude high above the gate, Usruldes was struck on the knee with a rock shard, shattering his right patella. He cast a charm to ignore the pain.

Most people trying to exit the parade grounds were now on the ground, including Arkalla and her last remaining guard. Usruldes landed silently next to the Empress. As the dust settled, she struggled to her knees.

Usruldes did not dare let her stand up. He knew he was no match for her one-on-one. He had to take her by stealth, or he would be either dead or in flight. He tossed one of his throwing spikes into the air above his head. It became visible the moment it left his hand. Empress Arkalla saw the flash of the metal and turned her head to look. He had been counting on her doing that. As her head turned and her chin came up, the tip of his long knife sliced neatly through her carotid artery on the side of her neck.

"Show yourself, you filthy assassin," she screamed as she felt her life’s blood spill out. She tried to stop the flow with her hand. He cut through her hand to distract her from casting stasis on herself. She howled from the pain and then fainted from blood loss. He grabbed her by the back of her brigantine and flew upward to deliver her to Imstay.

The King was blocking the highway north out of the city with 10,000 infantry and five hundred flying cavalry. The King’s ambush force prevented the people from escaping the city and reaching the Kip River Valley and breathable air. The swell of refugees helped dissuade the city’s rump garrison from attacking. Soon, once the sulfur fires were out, Bobbo’s larger force would march through the south gate.

The Foskan forces still had five more walled cities to take and the Imperial Heir Arkaline Ugi to kill or capture. Regardless, with the death of the Empress — and her body to prove it — the war against Impotu was now won even though it wasn't over.

Imstay King, Kipgapshegar, Growing Season, 7th rot., 1st day

The crystal around Imstay's neck vibrated in two short bursts, signaling that Usruldes was about to arrive under the charm of circular light. Imstay continued to watch the milling crowd of refugees from Flavriansha's back. The refugees were becoming more densely packed against the picket line across the road. The King began to consider letting a controlled flow of traffic through his lines to prevent suffocation or trampling deaths.

Imstay didn’t want to create a lot of non-military deaths. His objective was the head of the Empress. Taking Kipgapshegar would be a nice bonus, but he had been prepared to walk away from the city if he could take the Empress.

Now that Arkalla was dead, he would be garrisoning Kipgapshegar by the end of the day. He wanted his future taxpayers to be hale and hearty and safe in their homes. Imstay knew that winning the peace was as important as winning the war.

*I am behind you, Mighty One,* Usruldes mindcast, as formal as ever. *I have the corpse of Empress Arkalla in my hands.*

“Aide!” Imstay shouted. “Heads up, Flav.” Imstay patted his griffon on the neck, “I’m getting down. Stay ready for flight, please.”

The King hit the ground, bounced on his toes, and walked to where he guessed Usruldes was standing. "Drop the charms, Usruldes."

Usruldes appeared in front of him with Arkalla hanging from his right hand. The spymaster’s left hand still held his bloody long knife.

“The blood is still shiny,” Imstay noted as he knelt and laid the body of his enemy down gently. “Lord Usruldes, pray clear some space. Where’s that aide?”

"Here, Mighty One," a tenor answered close behind him.

“Be so kind as to find some kind of respectable covering to put underneath her. There should be something suitable in the page's stores. And get something to clean the blood off her face. Leave the blood elsewhere. We must display the cause of death to the people if we can.” Imstay raised his voice, “Captain Gunndit, can you hear me?”

“Mighty One?” a distance baritone asked.

“I need you over here, Hoyumey haup Gunndit,” Imstay shouted back.

In moments, a young beefy silverhair in a spotless coat-of-plates arrived at a run. Sliding to a flashy stop on his armored knees, the young mage made his obeisance.

“You are such a showoff, Gunndit," Imstay shook his head at the antics of youth. "Captain, I need a royal honor guard around this body. Also, prepare a bier for her after you set the guard. Lord Usruldes, please keep the area clear until young Gunndit gets his men in place. Can you also give me the status of Lord Bobbo's troops?"

“Lord Bobbo's army is marching in good order for the south gate. He should be in position before the third bell." Usruldes cast a charm on himself to clean the blood off his hands and sleeves.

Snow Bear appeared by the dead Empress’s feet. He made a bowing obeisance to the King and then shared his news.

"Spider, Mighty One, I have bad news regarding Heir Presumptive Arkashar," Snow Bear began. "The youth in the escape tunnel was the body double. We do not know where Heir Arkashar or his third mage guard disappeared.”

Imstay swore. “Well, there’s not much we can do other than be vigilant. How many wraiths can you spare to look for the boy, Usruldes?”

“Maybe ten at the most,” Usruldes replied, “assuming that they are no longer needed for surveillance on the palace here in Kipgapshegar.”

“Detail some of your wraiths to search for the boy and his mage,” Imstay ordered. “Send a message to Bobbo warning to look out for the missing Heir Presumptive. When you're done with that, please visit the Shrine of Sassoo in the city and arrange for the Empress to lie in state. We'll march her into the city on a bier with honors so the populace can see that she is dead. That should take the ginger out of the remaining garrison guards. After you visit the Shrine, see if you can convince them to help with crowd and traffic control for processing the Empress’ body to the Shrine.”

Usruldes looked up as he ran through his list of things to do and counted on his fingers, "Clear some space, provide an update on Bobbo's troops, find Arkashar Ugi and his guardian mage, message Lord Bobbo, visit the Shrine of Sassoo, negotiate collaboration with the city guard . . . Is there anything else you need done, Mighty One? Polish your boots? Take Flavriansha for some exercise? Arrange the surrender of Hoydee? Convert the Tirmarrans to eating a vegetarian diet?”

“Skip the boots,” Imstay scowled at his spymaster. “The boots might be a bit too much with everything else you need to do.”

“Your will, Mighty One,” Lord Usruldes made a perfect bow.