Chapter 4- Schemes and Tactics

Riel discovers something that disturbs him. Kalek sends word of the attack. Mataias gets set to launch an attack, but is there a chance the enemy is waiting for them?

The muscles in Riel`s arms strained against his taught skin as he forced his afflicted patient back onto the infirmary cot. 

 

`”Quick, bind him!” he cried to the monk Rivatha.

Rivatha quickly grabbed the leather straps attached to the hospital bed and bound the patient’s arms and legs.

 

Riel wiped the sweat off his forehead as he caught his breath.  Some dark magic had befallen the bitten soldiers.  Legends of old, written on the fragile parchment of Riel’s tomes, spoke of  ancient curses; Curses where victims of the biters had turned into biters as well.  But these were not the bites of these so called biters of legend.  These came from the bites of the undead.  Riel sat down on a nearby stool and appreciatively accepted the cup of water offered to him.

 

The undead must carry some plague, Riel mused as he sipped on his water.  But that didn’t make sense.  What could be happening, some sort of ancient sorcery?  He needed to speak with his brothers.  Riel drained the cup before getting up onto his exhausted feet. 

“Watch them overnight,” Riel instructed the monks in the infirmary “and fetch me if anything changes.”

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“Come in,” Kalek’s deep voice answered the knock on the doors of his meeting chamber. 

He looked up to see Riel and Zain walking in.  Riel looked tired.  He had bags under his red eyes.  Loose strands of his normally perfect hair poked out of the topknot.  His green robes were stained with sweat and various colours, stains of medicine no doubt.  But the enormous difference was the monk’s stature.  Where he used to stand tall with a straight back, he was hunched forward and his normally broad shoulders were rounded forward, in fatigue. 

 

Riel noted the grim look on Kalek’s face.  An open letter sat on the desk in front of him.

“News from the alliance?”

 

“Bad news I’m afraid, from Lord Larathur.”

 

“What news?”

 

“Their island was attacked day before yesterday,”

“Undead?”

“No, pirates this time, two ships.”

 

Zain plopped down in one of the leather bound chairs across of Kalek’s desk.

“First undead and now corsairs?” the mage ran his hands across his staff, “Two groups seldom organized launch an organized attack on two of the Alliance guilds, Coincidence?”

 

Kalek stood and stretched his back, “I do not know, but something is a foot here, and I plan to find out what.”

 

Kalek walked over to Riel and placed a gentle hand on the monk’s shoulder.

 

“And what of our soldiers, how do they fare?”

 

“It is what seems to be a plague, though I am not certain.”

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well brother,” Riel started to voice his concerns as he sat down, “The only ones �"turning for a lack of a better word- are the ones bitten by the undead.”

 

“Yes?”

“That is what is puzzling, the undead cannot carry a plague, as they are fleshless, it defies logic.”

 

“The work of magic then?” Kalek asked, his voice heavy with dread.

“It seems some necromancy might be at work here.”  Riel nodded his head, confirming Kalek’s fears.

 

“We will need to evacuate our people,” Riel continued, getting up from his seat to look out the large windows, “if we are to battle this magic.”

 

Zain looked up at his older brothers, “And pray, how are we to do that?”

 

“Zain is right, the gates are blocked, we have no way to get our people out.”

 

Riel turned from the window, “There is one other way…” his voice trailed off.

 

Kalek shook his head firmly.  It had been many years since he and his brothers had ventured far into the catacombs.  A dark and foreboding place, littered with tortured souls and faces of the dead, their silent screams forever eternalized into the very structures of the crypts.  The complex maze of tunnels led to vast underground halls, some tombs, others filled with unspeakable horrors and the very air was sometimes poisonous. 

“I will not allow my people to be led into danger!”

Riel nodded his understanding, “I know frater, but we have no other choice.”

Zain used his staff to hoist himself up from his seat, “And who will lead them through?”

“Aye, who will lead them, I cannot spare any men if we are to vanquish our foes.”

“Our necromancer’s know the crypts better than anyone.” Riel stated.

Kalek shook his head, “No, if our enemy is indeed using some type of necromancy we will need our necromancers if we are to understand their plans.”

Riel shook his head fiercely, “Then what of our people Kalek?”

“We will have to go under a state of siege,” Kalek’s voice was heavy, “We will need to send out ravens to all of the alliance, the Zaishen order, all the rulers of the nations must be informed of what is happening as well.”

Kalek started to gather sheets of parchment and ink.  He cleared a spot on his desktop and set down the contents in his arms.  He looked up just as his brothers got ready to leave.

“And send word to our brothers, we will need them if we are to prevail in this fight.”

Happiness swelled inside the brothers chests.  It had been too long since the brothers had been together, on a quest to vanquish evil and restore peace to the lands.

 

“Just like old times, eh?” Zain smiled.

Kalek looked at his younger brother warmly, “Yes, if only we could come together at times of peace instead of conflict.”

“If only it were so..” Riel sighed as he and Zain left the room to start preparations for the upcoming siege.

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[Mataias]

The sun’s rays shone through the floor to ceiling windows, washing the heavy wooden table in a light of molten gold.  Particles of dust could be seen dancing lazily in the sun beams.  Lord Larathur and his officers sat at one end of the table, the other being occupied by Mataias and his SunSpear officers.

“I have sent word of our attack to your brother, General Mataias, and I await his reply.”  Lord Larathur was saying, as he stroked his thick, white, walrus mustache.  

Mataias nodded his head, “I am sure my brother will act swiftly, the honour of our family is at stake here.  Meanwhile, we need to devise a plan to rid ourselves of these vermin.”

“And how do we do this?”  A man at Larathur’s side asked.  His bald head glistened with sweat.  He had black beady eyes and a leathery neck and a face that reminded Mataias of something between a vulture and a weasel.    “We are ambushed!  The ships are cutting off our only exit to the sea!”

Mataias glared at the wrinkly old man, “I said we need to get rid of them, not run away from them.  I believe myself and a select few of my warriors can rid this island of the pirates.”

Lord Larathur leaned back in his chair.  His barrel chest and thick arms showed that he was a powerful fighter in the past but his slight belly hinted to him serving a more recent political role.  His mane of wild white hair gave him a crazed look though the wisdom in his gentle blue eyes showed he was very well one of the sharpest diplomats to grace the battle field.

His deep voice always seemed calm, a pleasant baritone “But why would two pirate ships organize an attack against the island?  Pirates have never been known to launch organized attacks, yet they seem very organized.  They attacked an island under the protection of the alliance no less!  They must know they are going to face the wrath of the guilds…and in Zaishen waters too!”

Mataias stood up and started pacing.  He crossed his arms across his chest, his brow furrowed in thought.  “You are quite right my lord.  This does not make much sense.  I can only imagine something bigger is at work here. But what?” his voice rising in frustration. 

Larathur leaned forward “We will find out, but first we must formulate an offensive attack to rid the island of these pirates.”

Mataia nodded as he sat down again.  “My men and I will rid your island my Lord, you need not worry.”

“You have a plan then?” the whiney voice of the weasel man shrilled.

“Aye, I do have a plan.”

“What is it then? Will you not share it with the council so that we may pass a verdict?

Mataias glared at the old man.  “I will not. It is between my men and myself.  I do not wish to share my plans with you sir.”

The weasel’s face turned a deep shade of crimson. “You must share your plans!  How do we not know yu will not sell us out to the enemy?”

One of the sunspear commanders sitting by Mataias’ side jumped up, a scowl fixed upon his fierce face and a gloved hand on the hilt of his sword.  “You dare insult the general?” he growled.  “I urge you to choose your next words carefully little man, or by the gods I will see that you pay for your insult to our honour!”

Mataias placed a gentle hand on the warrior’s arm.  “Please Renwyck, sit down.  There is no need for bloodshed within the keep; there is plenty of that to happen outside these gates.”  He turned towards the little weasel man, his face hardening “I will forgive your insult to my honour.  But know this, if we wanted to sell you out to those pirates, knowing our plans would not stop us.  I only wish to keep my plan private to ensure there is no chance of it leaking to the enemy.” He turned his head towards Lord Larathur, “I trust my men with my life, but I do not know your people and thus I do not feel comfortable giving information that could jeopardize the lives of my men.   I mean no disrespect my lord.”

The man smiled, his skin wrinkling beside his wise blue eyes.  “Do not worry general; I trust you and your men can take care of it.  I understand your position and am not offended.” He turned toward the weasel, “And I do not think Arnaud meant to question your honour, he only wishes to keep our people safe.”

The weasel man-Arnaud- nodded.

“Very well,” Mataias clapped his hands together, “I shall take my leave and talk strategies with my men.”

“When do you plan on attacking?” Arnaud asked.

“Tomorrow, after the midday bell rings, we will head out.  That way the sun will be in their eyes.”

“Very well,” Larathur stood up and stretched his aching limbs,” we shall summon the council tomorrow and until then get some sleep, this meeting is adjourned.  Until tomorrow gentleman.”

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The sky was a deep black, the moonlight hidden behind the terrace of the keep.  Not a sound could be heard save the rhythmic footsteps of the guards stationed atop the wall.

A figure cloaked in black silently stole its way across the ground and quietly slipped through a small gate located on the west wall. 

 

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The sword at Renwyck’s side clinked against the plated armor he wore as he and Mataias walked towards the hall the sunspears had set up in for the siege.  “Why did you tell that weasel when we would be attacking?  I do not trust him; he has a look in his eyes that I cannot read.”

 

“Nor do I trust him, and if he is a rat the pirated will be expecting us when the sun is at its highest.”

 

“All the more reason not to have told him!  We may have lost the element of surprise.”

 

“We cannot assume that he is a traitor.  He is a politician after ll, they all seem a bit…off.”

 

“Still, I do not want to rely on trust when it comes to him.  If we are sold out we may never see the sun again.”

 

“Exactly, which is why we attack tonight.”

Author's Note

A little late, and for that I apologize, Please rate this chapter, and check out the other chapters! please let me know what you think!! Thanks guys and girls!!