Fisher walked through the Motangan encampment towards the ancient temple. He avoided everyone along his path, but he kept his ears open to pick up whatever information was available. Mostly what he heard were the rumblings of an army preparing for battle. There were rumors and boasting, but most of the talk was typical of men trying to hide their fear of the coming combat. The spy could almost feel sympathy for the Motangan soldiers, but he knew that these men were determined to kill his friends and anyone else who dared to object to the rule of Emperor Vand. The Khadoran spy reached the temple and mounted the stairs to the large doors leading inside. Two Motangan soldiers stationed at the doors stopped him.
“What business do you have inside?” demanded one of the guards.
“I must report to Premer Tzargo,” lied Fisher.
“Report to your section commander,” the guard shook his head. “You have no business inside the temple.”
The heads of nearby soldiers swiveled towards the confrontation. It was probably a scene that was played out numerous times over the course of a single day, but Fisher loathed being the center of attention. He also knew that if he failed to gain entry on the first attempt, he would never get in. The guards would grow more suspicious each time he returned to try again. Fisher’s body stiffened and grew rigid as he stepped closer to the guard.
“I was told to keep watch on the eastern perimeter and report any abnormalities directly to Premer Tzargo,” Fisher said as forcefully as he could. “If I am not permitted to perform my duties, I will make sure that both of you are listed as the reason for my failure.”
The guard stepped back a pace from the verbal assault, but he still gazed at Fisher with suspicion. Many soldiers tried to gain entrance to the temple merely to get out of the sun, and he had strict orders to admit only those with permission.
“The eastern perimeter?” balked the guard. “The attack is coming from the west.”
The other guard stepped forward and appraised Fisher with a keen eye.
“What group are you with?” he asked.
“I am with Premer Cardijja,” declared Fisher. “I brought a message to Premer Tzargo last month and have since been assigned to watch the eastern perimeter. I am currently staying with Savesto’s group.”
“I know Savesto,” the second guard said cautiously. “He is indeed on the eastern perimeter. He likes to stay as far away from the temple as possible. He’s not a very personable fellow.”
“No, he isn’t,” Fisher agreed harshly, “but he has never interfered with my mission either. Are you going to step aside, or do I have to summon an officer to report that you feel the need to override Premer Tzargo’s orders?”
“I still don’t get it,” frowned the first guard. “There should be nothing to report to the east. What is it that you have seen that is so important?”
“What I have to report,” Fisher seethed with feigned hostility, “I will report to Premer Tzargo as ordered, not to a door guard with an over inflated opinion of his own importance.”
The first guard stiffened at the rebuke, but the second guard chuckled.
“Ouch,” quipped the second guard. “Those are fighting words. Why don’t you let him pass before the two of you end up on the injured list?”
The first guard turned and glared at his companion. “I suppose you will merely stand by and watch?” he asked his partner.
“If the man wants shade bad enough to fight you for it,” shrugged the second guard, “I am not getting involved. Besides, there is a fair chance that his story is true. I am not about to offer myself up for a grievance with the Premer. Let him by.”
The first guard turned and glared at Fisher again, but his stance softened.
“We will ask Premer Tzargo about your mission later,” he warned Fisher. “If you lied to us, we will see you hanged for it. Get moving.”
Fisher wasn’t sure from the man’s words if he was being dismissed or admitted to the temple, but he knew where he needed to go. He walked past the guard and opened the door, half expecting a sword to be thrust into his back. He breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. As for the man’s promise to interrogate the Premer, Fisher recognized that as mere bravado. No door guard would dare to admit that he had let someone into the temple that he was unsure of.
Fisher moved away from the door in almost total blindness. The gloomy interior was like total darkness compared to the blazing sun outside. He waited a few minutes to let his eyes adjust to gloom and then moved cautiously towards the interior. For the next couple of hours, the spy roamed around the interior of the palace, his ears constantly straining to pick up snippets of conversation. While there was talk about the coming battle, he learned nothing startling. No battle strategies were openly discussed, and he heard nothing to indicate that the Motangans were aware of any approaching force other than the Khadorans. He began to feel as if the visit to the temple had been a waste of time, but there was one major item on his list that he had not yet accomplished.
Fisher made his way to the top of the stairs. The top level of the temple was the location of the throne room, and a large contingent of soldiers stood between the two staircases. Fisher knew that he would never gain entrance to the throne room to verify that Vand was indeed there, but the top level also led to the roof of the temple, and it was there that Fisher wanted to go.
The Khadoran spy turned away from the throne room and moved along a corridor where the sunshine was streaming in from the far end. He shielded his eyes from the brilliant sun as he stepped out onto the roof. Squinting as he surveyed the roof, he saw no one. The roof of the temple was a vast flat area broken only by the small section of the temple in the center that rose slightly higher. Once out the doorway, Fisher turned to the north and headed for the edge of the roof.
He halted at the edge and stared into the distance at the ancient city of Vandegar. As his eyes became accustomed to the brightness, the spy saw movement in the ancient city. His mouth fell open and his eyes twitched as he watched skeleton-like figures moving about. There were untold thousands of the creatures, and Fisher felt a shiver race up his spine. He found it hard to believe what he was watching, a whole city infested with dead warriors, but warriors that weren’t quite dead, for the dead did not walk around and carry swords. The Khadoran spy instantly knew that it was urgent to get word of this discovery back to the Astor.
“What are you doing out here?” demanded a voice of authority. “This area is strictly forbidden.”
Fisher turned slowly and saw a Motangan officer standing a mere pace away. The officer held his sword ready as he glared at Fisher.
“I got lost,” Fisher shrugged nervously.
“And you will remain lost forever,” the officer snarled as he raised his sword.
“Wait,” pleaded Fisher. “I am not really lost. I heard about the ancient city of Vandegar. I just had to see what we are fighting for. Spare me this one time. Please.”
“Only the god Vand can spare you from my wrath,” snapped the officer as his sword began to swing towards Fisher’s neck, “and he will have to do it in your next life.”
Fisher dropped to the floor as the sword swung over his head. The spy landed on his rump and promptly swiveled his body, using his feet to sweep the officer’s legs out from under him. The officer fell to the floor, and Fisher leaped upon the man’s body, a knife sliding from its arm sheath into his hand. Even as Fisher drove the knife deep into the officer’s heart, he knew that he was caught. Beyond the body of the officer, Fisher saw a pair of feet approaching rapidly. The feet protruded out of a black cloak, and Fisher’s eyes rose to see a Motangan mage approaching. The mage’s hand darted out before him, and the spy knew that a spell was about to be cast. Fisher rolled frantically away from the dead officer in a futile attempt to avoid the magical spell. He heard the air sizzle at the unleashing of the magical spell and waited for the pain to envelope his body.
“Don’t you know that all of the soldiers here are hellsouls?” asked the mage. “You must always decapitate them.”
Fisher looked up in amazement at the Motangan mage. His eyes darted towards the officer and saw his head rolling about the floor. He looked back at the mage in confusion, and the mage smiled as he pulled his hood slightly back to allow Fisher to see his face.
“Xavo?” gasped Fisher. “How did you get here?”
“I would not say my name too loudly,” grinned the mage. “Xavo is wanted just as dead as Aakuta in these parts. This is no time to dally. Throw the body over the edge of the roof and follow me quickly. The demons will be returning soon.”
“Over the edge?” objected Fisher as he got to his feet. “The soldiers down below will be alerted.”
“Hardly,” Xavo shook his head. “Vand throws his incompetents off the roof every day. What we don’t want to happen is for the demons to find a slain body here when they return. Hurry up.”
Fisher asked no further questions. He hurled the body over the edge of the roof and tossed the head after it. He picked up the officer’s sword and hurried after Xavo who was already half way to the doorway leading inside. Fisher ran to catch up and followed Xavo closely. The mage led the spy down the stairs to his hidden room and then sealed the door. Lady Mystic was already in the room and waiting.
“I trust you got to him before he was discovered?” she asked Xavo.
“Not exactly,” Xavo shook his head, “but I think we are alright. There was just another officer discarded from the roof.”
“You knew I was here?” gasped Fisher.
“We have been watching you for hours,” smiled Lady Mystic. “You have a certain mastery of your profession. I have admired the way you handle yourself.”
“We have no time for adoration,” interrupted Xavo. “Those dead warriors that you were so absorbed in watching will be moving out of the city tonight. Once they are in position, you will be unable to leave Vandegar. You need to get out of the area immediately. Carry word of what you have learned.”
“I will leave soon,” promised Fisher, “but I must know more. What are these demons that you speak of?”
“There are six of them,” explained Lady Mystic. “Three of them are searching for Angragar, but they will return soon.”
“The other three are dining with Dobuk, which is the only thing that saved you from a certain death,” added Xavo. “They normally inhabit the roof, and I would not have been able to save you if they had been out there. It is said that they are immune to magic.”
“They are immune to magic,” declared Lady Mystic. “There are five hundred thousand dead warriors that will be deployed tonight. They will form an outer ring around the temple and Premer Tzargo’s troops, which are all hellsouls by the way.”
“I found that out,” frowned Fisher.
“Vand also has thirteen mages with him here,” stated Xavo. “Their leader is Pakar, and each of them is greatly accomplished. We will try to keep them out of the battle, but there are no guarantees. The two of us can only do so much, and our main goal is Dobuk.”
“You are going to confront the Great Demon?” Fisher asked with awe.
“Someone must,” sighed Xavo. “I do not want to think of my daughter being forced to deal with him.”
“How have you learned so much?” questioned the Khadoran spy.
“We have used air tunnels,” offered Lady Mystic.
“I thought we were not supposed to be using them except in an emergency?” frowned Fisher. “If they are safe to use now, you could send this information to Marak, and I could stay and help you.”
“We are only using the air tunnel to hear conversations,” Xavo shook his head. “No one can detect that, but it would be disastrous to try sending a message. Get on your horse and get the message back to the Torak.”
“I have no horse,” sighed Fisher, “and I came from the Fakarans. From what I have heard around the camp, I will not be able to escape to the west. Everyone knows that the Khadorans are coming towards us from the west. Amusingly, no one is expecting any attack from the east. They are in for a surprise. The Fakarans are twice as strong as the Khadorans and probably better suited to fight in this terrain.”
“Don’t be too sure about the surprise,” warned Lady Mystic. “Those demons might notice the Fakarans coming towards us.”
“The important thing is get word to someone out there that the size of the defenders is ten times larger than they expect,” stressed Xavo. “They need to know about the skeletons.”
“Can they be killed?” asked Fisher.
“I don’t know,” admitted Xavo. “It is my feeling that anything alive can be killed, and that includes the dead warriors. There is some life form that is allowing them to move and fight.”
“I would suggest decapitation,” interjected Lady Mystic. “It works on the hellsouls, and I have to believe the life forms are similar.”
“A valid guess,” nodded Xavo, “but, again, there are no guarantees.”
“Is there anything else that I need to know before I leave?” asked Fisher.
“Know that Kaltara will win this war,” smiled Lady Mystic. “Go quickly.”
Fisher stared at Lady Mystic for a short moment and shook his head in wonder. He smiled and bowed in respect to the Emperor’s daughter as Xavo unsealed the door and checked the corridor outside.
“Be swift, my Chula friend,” Xavo said in parting.
Fisher nodded and stepped out of the room as Xavo closed the door. He watched in amazement as the door suddenly disappeared, leaving a blank wall in its place. The spy moved swiftly to the stairs and made his way down to the ground level. He moved to the front doors and stepped out into the sunshine. The same two guards looked suspiciously at him.
“I had hoped that it was your body that had dropped from the roof,” the obstinate guard snarled offensively.
“Actually,” Fisher smiled, “it was the body of an officer that refused to let me speak with Premer Tzargo. The Premer was not amused by the antics of the pompous fool.”
The guard swallowed hard as Fisher grinned and moved quickly down the steps. The spy moved quickly, but casually through the throng of soldiers as he tried to figure out how he could steal a horse to make his escape. He was sure that horses would not be given to just any soldier who asked for one. In fact, horses were at a premium in the Motangan camp as the army was strictly infantry. Surely the keepers of the horses would demand some type of authorization from an officer before they allowed a horse to be taken, and Fisher had no time left to walk back to the Fakarans. He had to secure a horse. Fisher walked towards the eastern perimeter as his mind dwelled on the problem. He soon found himself near Savesto’s camp and moved towards it.
“Did you get roped into another assignment?” asked Savesto.
Fisher snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the Motangan soldier.
“Actually, I did get an assignment,” he answered, “and we are in a great deal of trouble.”
“Trouble?” the soldier echoed worriedly. “What kind of trouble?”
“I am not supposed to divulge such information,” Fisher replied guardedly.
“But we are your friends,” protested Savesto who was eager to hear the latest rumors. “You can trust us.”
“Can I?” Fisher asked.
“Of course,” the group answered in unison.
“We like you, Aki,” Savesto said with sincerity. “If you are in trouble, we can help. What is the problem?”
“The Khadoran armies are much larger than we expected,” Fisher said conspiratorially. “There is a great deal of concern inside the temple that the dead warriors might not be enough to destroy the Khadorans.”
“The whole country of Khadora would have had to come eastward to defeat the dead warriors,” retorted one of the soldiers.
“Exactly,” nodded Aki. “Every able man in Khadora is on the way here. I have been ordered to get Premer Cardijja’s army to come here immediately.”
“That’s great,” exclaimed Savesto. “I don’t have a problem with a few hundred thousand more warriors joining the fun. What is the problem with that?”
“The problem,” Aki said with an air of failure, “is that I neglected to get authorization to use a horse. There is no way that I will reach Cardijja in time for his armies to get here.”
“That is no problem,” shrugged one of the men. “Just go back and get authorization.”
“You don’t understand,” Aki shook his head. “The mood inside the temple is murderous. An officer made a suggestion that Premer Tzargo did not enjoy. He was immediately decapitated and thrown from the roof.”
“I saw that,” volunteered Savesto. “I wondered what the poor soul had done.”
“Nothing more than speak when the Premer preferred silence,” Aki replied. “There is no way that I am going back inside the temple and ask for authorization to use a horse.”
“But the reinforcements won’t make it in time if you walk,” frowned one of the soldiers.
“I know,” Aki nodded in defeat, “but what can I do?”
“You can steal a horse,” declared Savesto.
“And get executed?” balked Aki.
“You won’t get executed,” smiled Savesto. “We will help you. We know some of the boys that work the corrals. We can distract them while you get the horse and ride out.”
“Are you sure about this Savesto?” one of the soldiers asked nervously.
“If we don’t get reinforcements,” stated Savesto, “there is a decent chance that we will die in the coming battle. I’ve got a fair bit of gold with me that I am willing to give up to stay alive. What about the rest of you?”
“Gold is no good to a dead man,” shrugged one of the soldiers. “Count me in. How do you plan to do it?”
“Everyone knows that I am a unlucky person,” grinned Savesto. “One of you will happen to go down to the corrals and mention that I have a lot of gold and that I am gambling it away. That should draw most of the guards away.”
“What about the rest?” asked Aki. “Surely some of the guards will stay there.”
“The rest of my boys will hang around the corrals,” answered Savesto. “They will offer to take the guards’ places so the guards can come and take my gold. If necessary, they will start a fight with the guards to distract them while you steal the horse.”
Aki pulled a knife and cut his pouch free. He handed it to Savesto, and the Motangan whistled at the weight of it. Other soldiers handed over their gold and soon Savesto had quite a large pile.
“Let’s do it,” Aki said confidently.
One of Savesto’s soldiers ran ahead as the others walked slowly towards the corrals. Before the group reached the corrals, a soldier who had been running towards them halted in front of them.
“Is it true?” he asked the soldiers. “Is Savesto gambling all of his gold away?”
“He is,” nodded one of the soldiers. “I would love to take some of it from him, but I don’t have a stake to get in the game. Perhaps you could lend me some gold?”
The guard laughed loudly and took off running towards Savesto’s campsite.
“I guess that was a no,” chuckled the soldier.
Several more guards raced by, and by the time the small group reached the corrals, there were only two guards left.
“Well,” greeted one of the guards, “if it isn’t Savesto’s boys. I knew the rumor of him losing his gold was too good to be true. You boys wouldn’t be away from your campsite if there was gold to be had.”
“Actually,” admitted one of the soldiers, “Savesto has cleaned us out. He is now sitting on all of our gold as well as his own.”
“I have never known Savesto to be lucky,” the guard replied suspiciously.
“Me neither,” shrugged the soldier, “but it’s the truth. He cleaned us all out.”
“He must be cheating,” declared the soldier.
“No doubt about it,” nodded one of the soldiers, “but we couldn’t catch him at it.”
The two guards looked at each other and grinned.
“Well he can’t cheat us,” declared one of the guards. “I can spot a cheat every time. How would you boys like to earn some of your gold back?”
“”Sure!” exclaimed one of Savesto’s soldiers. “What do we have to do?”
“Just guard the corrals while we go clean out Savesto’s little nest egg,” grinned the guard. “We’ll let you have some of your gold back when we return.”
“And we better hurry before the others get it all,” interjected the other guard.
“Go,” one of the soldiers said. “Just make sure you get some of our gold back.”
The two guards ran towards Savesto’s campsite, and the soldiers left behind laughed out loud.
“Take your pick, Aki,” chuckled one of the soldiers, “but be quick about it. Savesto’s luck truly is lousy, and it won’t take long for them to clean him out.”
Aki did not hesitate. He leaped over the rail of the corral while the soldiers untied the gate and prepared to open it. Within minutes Aki had a horse saddled and raced out of the corral. The sentries along the eastern perimeter paid no attention to the racing messenger, and Fisher was soon out of sight of the camp.