B2: 44. Hull - This Is War
We crept through the woods in a spread-out wedge, the elf advisor Qi’shen taking point, Gale and Gerad a few yards back on either flank. Everyone had all their source circling their heads and a hand full of cards, but we’d been told not to summon anything – more bodies meant more noise and more risk of discovery. We didn’t think we’d run into any Orcs this deep into the forest beyond Treledyne, but none of us knew for sure, and so we tromped on in tense silence.
The trees were tall and branchless, widely spaced like crooked spindles, stretching up to a green canopy far overhead. The dry leaves underfoot barely made a hint of a crunch when I stepped on them, and the deep-forest twilight look of shady green lent a spooky air to everything. It was like being in an empty noble’s ballroom, except that an Orc might step out from behind a pillar at any time hell-bent on murder.
A gentle touch on my elbow sent me leaping into the air, my heart in my throat, but when I came down it was just Afi. “Feeling jumpy?” she asked quietly, raising an eyebrow.
“You aren’t?” I responded. Then, hearing my own words, I stopped, feeling confused. I’d spoken at normal volume, but it had come out in the same muted, hushed tones Afi had been using, almost like I was speaking through a thick-stuffed pillow. “What the hell?”
Afi gestured up ahead to Qi’shen. The elf’s bristled blue mane of hair waved like a pennant as he walked. He kept the sides of his head shaved and used some sort of glue or paste to make the long hair up top stand stiff and tall, falling into a braided queue behind. For all that the elves excelled at forestcraft, he stuck out like a red silk ribbon on a grunting sow. Afi didn’t seem to mind – her look in his direction was admiring. “He has a silence aura that’s keeping us safe.”
I nodded sourly, resuming my place in the formation. No wonder the leaves aren’t crunching like I thought they should. “At least the elves are doing their part.”
Afi’s face darkened as she thought of the dwarves who so obviously weren’t. She seemed to hold some personal grudge against them, though I didn’t have the first clue why. We hadn’t spoken much since last night’s disastrous Gala. She’d stood up for me in front of Edaine, which I hadn’t expected, but I hadn’t seen her after that. I’d been so busy spending my last few credits to upgrade the last of my Commons that everything else had slipped my mind. I ached to do some more substantial elevations, but a quick jaunt over to the Lows had resulted in nothing more than Roshum laughing in my face when I asked if my new card bath might be ready; he’d said it’d be at least another week. I hadn’t been able to find Bryll. She often slept late after keeping midnight hours, so that wasn’t a huge concern. I’d come across Naydarin, who’d grinned and shown off his fifth Fire source but just shrugged when I asked about Bryll. I was beginning to think he really was a mute and everyone else was just jerking my chain.
“Has Edaine spoken to the King?” Afi asked. The noise-dampening effect of Qi-shen’s aura made her sound hesitant.
“Not so far as I know,” I responded. “If the shiny bastard wants my head he’ll have it one way or the other, but I’m not going to waste sweat on it with an army in front of us.”
She looked shocked to hear me speak so disrespectfully and quickly looked around to see if we’d been overheard. The only one I wished had heard was Gerad, if only so he could feel insulted by association. That’s stupid, Hull. You’re out in the wild now, and if he decides to have another go at you, Edaine won’t be here to stop him. Mouthing off is the worst thing you could do. Problem was, there was a part of me that only wanted to piss him off more when I thought that way.
She shook off her surprise. “We’ll see action tonight, or soon after that. Are you worried?”
“Of course,” I said. “We’re going to war half-trained and are being stuck out in front. I’d have to be a moron not to be scared.”
Her lips quirked. “I haven’t seen you vomit a single time.”
I sighed. Basil had already puked twice since we left the fortification’s new spot at the front gates of the city. “Give the kid a break. He’ll pull it together when it matters.”
We walked along without speaking for a moment. “So… that was really your mother?” No question about it – she did sound hesitant now.
I kicked at the leaves, watching them fluff back down to earth, barely making a sound. “Yep. Big-time demon spy come to infiltrate the human army, and all I could see was Mommy coming back home to say sorry for leaving.”
Afi had an intent, serious look and took her time responding. The silence stretched on long enough that when she opened her mouth I fully expected her to give me more of the same business I’d gotten from Edaine: what mattered was the result, not my stupidity, our General lay dying, and the best I could hope for was reducing my treasonous stain by giving my all to this war. Instead, Afi put a hand on my arm and said, “You did your best.”
I stared so hard that I stumbled as we walked along. “You straight-out asked who she was and I lied.”
“I didn’t love that,” she admitted. “Honestly, though, I think I prefer you having an evil spy mother over an old flame hanging around and insisting you’re just friends.”
I laughed. It felt odd to have the sound die out so quickly, like it was being smothered under blankets. Several of our nearest companions in the V formation shot me warning glances that demanded quiet, but the absurdity of it all was too great for silence. “Any girl in the Lows that looked at me twice was either worried I was going to stab her for her shoes or wondering if she could do the same to me. There aren’t any old flames.”
She nodded decisively. “Good.”
Just as I was about to ask what she meant, I noticed that Qi’shen was stooped next to the largest tree we’d seen so far and was digging down with his hands. The rest of us gathered around. He’d made a sizable hole in the soft loam of the untouched forest.
“Funny spot to take a shit,” I said. Somebody snickered, sounding scandalized. It had to have been one of the paladins.
“Any spot is the right spot when you have the need,” said Qi’shen gravely, his eyes closed and his hands stuck deep into the soil. “But I have another purpose at the moment.”
Everyone was watching him expectantly, but he said nothing. I cleared my throat. “And that purpose is…?”
“Difficult to achieve with interruptions,” the elder elf said, cracking an eye open to give me a level look. “Patience, please.”
It must have been ten minutes that we spent shuffling about, waiting for the blue-haired pain in the ass. I found a trunk to sit against. Basil and Esmi were huddled in quiet conference by themselves nearby. His face was very pale and he was breathing as if he’d been running. Poor kid really isn’t cut out for this kind of thing. He was plenty brave – he’d proven that time and again – but the reality of going into open warfare had him panicked. For my part, it felt almost natural to be skulking about looking for trouble again after all these months of pretending to be one of the normal ones; I just wished there were more trees. These narrow things didn’t give nearly as good of cover as an old tenement porch or alleyway full of trash.
I was eyeing Gerad standing off by himself when Qi-shen stood up and rubbed the dirt from his hands. “Let us continue.”
“May we know what you just did?” Anya asked. None of us had seen much of the elf advisor during War Camp, and the paladins all defaulted to the kind of deferent respect that would have felt like boot-licking if I’d tried it.
“I have communed with the roots,” he said. “I now know every feature of the terrain within five square miles as if I’d lived here for years.”
“Handy,” Afi muttered.
“Does your ability let you sense living things?” Gale asked. He was even more pale than his brother, if far more steady on his feet than he had been earlier in the day.
“Would that it did, but no,” Qi’shen said. “However, I have identified a good spot of high ground that will make an excellent location for our first camp. We’ll never want to stay in one place for more than a night or two, but this one will be good for our initial scouting.” He pointed off to his left. North? West? It was hard to tell after the winding path we’d taken through this overgrown garden. “Let us continue.”
Afi fell back into her spot in the formation when we resumed, and so on we went in the unnatural quiet. I wished she’d come back up beside me. What had she meant by good? I wasn’t so stupid as to miss the fact that she was expressing her interest in me despite my colossal screw-up, but did she really mean it, or was it just groping for companionship before battle? I’d met girls I thought were pretty before, but never one that had given me the time of day. Why would she pick me? Girls wanted boys to buy them things, to hold their hand, to kiss them. Was that the sort of thing she was after? I wasn’t opposed to the idea – I wasn’t made of stone – but I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around me doing any of those things. It was like imagining a cat standing on its hind legs and standing in line to buy bread.
I felt two hard objects clicking together in one trouser pocket, distracting me from thoughts that were both pleasant and uncomfortable. Reaching in to grab them, I came out with plain-looking river rock and a bit of green crystal jutting from granite. Annoying people keep giving me stones. Fate’s saggy tits, what am I supposed to do with these? The rock looked entirely ordinary unless seen by moonlight, at which point it looked like transparent purple glass; it was a memento my mother had given me of the Demon Realm. After the shit she’d pulled I wanted to hurl it into the ocean, but a tiny, wise part of me knew I’d never do any such thing. She was my mother, damn her, and this was the only thing she’d ever given me.
The crystal was the gift Harganut had handed me while the dwarves were making their cowardly exit. “You were a good bunkmate, and that is a debt,” he’d said. “If you ever wish to think more on stone, this is the key.” He’d pressed the knobby green thing into my hand, looked me in the eye, and nodded as if we’d just made a deal. Badgou had ended up being such a piece of shit that I wanted to dismiss the whole lot of them as a bad use of good gravel, but Harganut hadn’t been bad. Odd, yes, and close-mouthed like all of them, but he hadn’t cheated me. I didn’t know how a bit of crystal could be the key to thinking on stone – or why I’d ever need to – but he’d been discharging a debt even if I didn’t understand how he’d incurred it. Dwarves gave nothing away. It had to be useful. I’d hang onto it a while.
I was rubbing the smooth crystal between thumb and forefinger when I realized everyone else had stopped and I’d kept moving. Looking up, I saw everyone focused on one spot. My eyes tracked after theirs and I found myself looking at a very surprised green-skinned creature who, from the looks of his unbuttoned trousers and the wet patch on the tree next to him, had been pissing right up until we’d scared the rest of it out of him. From the shocked stillness all around, he’d done more or less the same to us.
The creature had short, bristly black hair and an even thicker beard. His lower jaw jutted, and short tusks curled up beyond his top lip. His eyes were overlarge, with huge black pupils and irises of yellow that left almost no room for the white. We’d met our first real live Orc.
I heard a faint, hysterical giggling from the rear and knew that Basil had lost it. The rest of us were staring dumbly, not quite sure what to do. We all still had our sources out; my cards were on the float beside me out of sheer boredom of holding them.
The Orc swallowed hard and darted a hand toward the poleaxe he’d leaned against a tree. All at once half a dozen Spells launched at him, mine included.
The sound was incredible even with the Qi’shen’s aura in place. My Spell’s blowback pulled three cards from my hand, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t see what Spells the others cast, but the poor bastard literally blew apart under the massed damage of a whole squadron of well-carded lieutenants, leaving a mist of red painting the splintered tree trunk and two boots that circled lazily in the air before touching down a good fifty feet away.
Those that hadn’t launched Spells had Souls misting into place next to them, leaving them looking for something else to attack, but there was nothing.
“A lone scout,” Gale said, leaning over and clutching his knees, winded. “That one won’t be reporting back.”
“The noise will do his reporting for him,” Qi’shen said, laying hands on Gale. Three of his Life source dipped, and Gale immediately perked up, looking refreshed. “Let us move on quickly.”
“Just a moment,” Gale said, walking over to the blasted spot of soil where the Orc had died and crouching down. “Let’s not miss our first spoils of war.”
We gathered around, but he came back up with a grimace. “If this is what the rank and file are holding, we’ll be back home by the end of the week.”
He held a handful of Basic shards in addition to the two cards. Apparently the scout hadn’t had a Soul card. A small part of me felt vaguely sad to have ended someone so permanently. A far larger part of me told the small part to stop being stupid. This was war.
“Our own rank and file will not be much better equipped,” Qi’shen reminded Gale. “Not until the rest of the army arrives, at least.”
We hustled away, not wanting to draw more enemies to our location. Esmi had to pull Basil by the arm, but he came along, looking dazed. We couldn’t know how far our sound had traveled, how many other Orcs were scouting the forest, or where the main body of the army was settling in, and now was not the time to find any of those things out. We’d have a hard time harrying the enemy if they pinned us down before we ever got started.
We marched for another hour and a half, the initial shock and excitement of first contact giving way to a duller kind of anxious alertness that left me tired but restless. When we finally crested a tree-covered hill somewhere in the depths of the forest, Qi’shen pulled us to a halt.
“This will be our camp for tonight,” he said. “Our first encounter was unexpected, but there will be more than that – and far more difficult – before too many hours have passed. Let us rest while we can.” He put his palm to the broad tree next to him, and a soft red glow pulsed in its core. “I have marked this spot. Only our company can see the marker; you will be able to perceive the light from a distance of three miles. If you become lost or separated, look for the light.”
“Right,” Gale said. “Get out tent Relics if you have them and set up quickly. Then we’ll discuss our first engagement.” He pulled a card from his hand and flashed it at us. “I hope you all planned ahead as well as I did.”
“That will not be necessary, Captain Gale,” Qi’shen said, “nor advisable. Tents are easily seen, and we do not want that. Allow me instead.” Mimicking the blond boy, he held out a card.
“Each of us has one of these; there will be enough room for all above, and we will be far safer off the ground.”
“And if it rains?” Gale grumbled. “Some of us are still healing, you know.”
“You will see the stars but feel no rain,” the elf promised. “When it comes to forestcraft, none can best my people.”
Ten minutes and a very scary rope-climb later, I was sitting on a platform twenty feet wide and fifty feet high attached by unseen means to the tree trunk next to us. I kept well back from the edge as I rooted through my pack for the blanket I’d use for sleeping and stayed close to Basil, who hadn’t said a word since our encounter with the Orc. He seemed to be calmer with Esmi and me nearby. There were two other platforms in adjoining trees, and there were heart-stopping rope bridges strung between them. We’d drawn up the climbing ropes as soon as everyone was aboard.
“Gather around,” Gale commanded, sitting by the fire circle in the center. How it didn’t burn through the wood at our feet I wasn’t sure, but like Qi’shen said, the elven Relicsmiths knew their business. “It’s time we planned our first assault.”
“Are we certain that’s wise?” Basil said, sounding quavery. “Another day might let them forget about the noise in the forest.”
“Pull your balls out of your stomach or go home,” Gared said, disgusted. “This is war.”
Gale gave the Prince a very level look. “Talk to someone under my command like that again, lieutenant, and you’ll be the one going home.”
Gared huffed in anger but looked away.
“That being said, pull it together, Hintal,” Gale continued. “This is war, and you will contribute if you want your fiancée or yourself to survive. Understood?”
Basil pressed pale lips into a line and nodded jerkily.
“I was given a fine gift as leader of this expedition,” Gale said, “and I’m going to put it to use as soon as it’s dark.” He fished a card from behind his ear to show us.
“If the Grand Marshal recovers, I’ll have to return it. If not… well.” He put the card back in his Mind Home. “Traditionally, the Orcs like to stick to the edges of the forest when they come to war against us. Once I know exactly where the enemy army is, Qi’shen will help me locate a good ravine near their position inside the borders of the forest.” He looked to the elf, who nodded sagely.
“And then?” Gared said, sounding darkly eager.
“We want to draw off as many outriders and raiders as we can,” he said. “That’s our first order of business; they’ll be the ones ranging out to harass the city while the bulk of the army settles in for a siege. We want to take some of that pressure off if we can. Draw them toward ourselves.”
“Forgive me,” Patyr said, raising a hand, “but the city has a wall and we don’t. Should we be trying to draw enemies after us?”
“Only if we can get them in a spot where we want them,” Gale said with a smile.
“They’re not just going to run after us like skipping down the street,” I objected. “Orcs aren’t any dumber than humans, are they?”
“They are not,” Gale confirmed. “We’ll need bait if we want to draw them into a trap.”
I snorted. “Good luck to whoever that is.”
Gale cocked his head and gave a grim chuckle. “Hull, my friend, I have some bad news for you.”