Delver Magic II: Throne of Vengeance by Jeff Inlo (books for 5 year olds to read themselves .TXT) đź“–
- Author: Jeff Inlo
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“Just thirty? There was supposed to be over one hundred.” Yave turned her ire directly upon Strog. “Was not that one of your own objectives handed down to this incompetent commander? You believed that one dwarf could easily account for at least five human casualties.”
“The battle did not turn as I expected,” Strog grumbled.
“Obviously not. And what of their other objectives? Did they destroy the human command post? Or the weapon supplies? Did they return with the human stores of food?”
“No,” Strog grimaced. “The commander focused on decimating the human guard first. When that was not achieved, it was no longer possible to destroy the weapons or sack the town of its food supplies.”
Yave placed the blame directly and without hesitation upon the War Com. “How is this possible? A well trained dwarf attack force defeated by an unsuspecting, untrained, and poorly equipped human army? A very small army! Isn’t that what you called them? Isn’t that why you said only a small force would be needed to attack Burbon?”
Strog, for the moment, bit back his flaring anger. He had to look away from the queen for a moment. He stared down at the thick stone table top and made his explanation under guarded breaths. “There were two factors I did not count on. It seems the captain of their guard was well versed on tactics. He deployed his forces with a battle savvy I would not have guessed a human to possess. If that were it alone, we still would have succeeded in our objectives. According to all reports, the battle was moving in our favor, but a magic caster intervened.”
“A what?!” Yave’s voice sizzled like bacon on a hot grill.
“A human wizard,” Strog grunted. “I was not aware of this.”
“A single wizard caused our defeat? Impossible. He would only be a novice. The cursed energy has not been loose long enough for a single magic caster to be any threat to us. We are resistant to magic, more so than any other race. What kind of spell could this human wizard cast which could affect us so?”
“We are resistant to direct magic assaults only. As always, we are as susceptible to indirect uses of the power as any other race, more so, because we can not cast spells of our own to counteract such powers. The human wizard trapped our war party in a barrier shell. They could not break out and were open to attack by the humans. Their captain ordered the use of spears and coordinated the attack well. It is as it’s always been, had it not been for the magic, we would have won.”
Yave growled with disgust. “I will not accept that!”
“You will have to. The magic was the only factor which was beyond our control. Look at our other two campaigns. There were no magic casters in either case, and in each case we were the victors. The force under my command dealt a severe blow to Connel. The humans had no idea of what hit them. It will take them many cycles to repair the damage we caused. Their forces have been significantly reduced, their army is in tatters. They would not dare attack now. What force remains will have to focus on defense. We destroyed many of their weapons, and relieved them of large portions of their food stores. They are no longer a threat.
“As for the elves, they are in confusion. Even now, they probably argue over why they were attacked. The dwarf commander in charge made every attempt to conceal the origin of his party. The elves will not know for sure if it was a force from Dunop or simply a renegade party with no home city. Many elves were wounded, some badly, food and wood were taken from them. Still, I doubt they can be sure it was us who attacked. Without that certainty, they can not justify an assault of their own against us. We have covered our flanks.”
“But not with Burbon,” Yave insisted with indignity.
“Burbon is no threat,” the War Com insisted.
“No threat? They managed to defeat your battle force with relative ease. It is an embarrassment.”
“I can not be expected to overcome magic casters.”
“Excuses!”
Strog slammed his fist down on the table. “No! Not excuses. The truth! The magic does not serve us. The fact that it is released is a danger to us all. It is why you have the throne and not your son.”
Yave’s eyes flared. “Never say that again!”
Strog did not back down. His angry stare locked with the queen’s. “Then do not question my strategies.”
Yave was about to rage with acidic remarks, but Strog stopped her with a tone of command. “Against my better judgment, we have attacked the elves and the humans. This was your bidding, not mine. I was against this from the start, but as you are so quick to remind me, you are the queen. You have the authority but I am the War Com. If you do not like what is happening here, I will resign. As will the rest of my generals. We will leave you to handle all armed conflicts yourself. I will withdraw my men from your palace.”
Yave bellowed. This brazen insignificant worm actually challenged her, defied her authority. She growled like a hungry tiger. “You dare! They are not your men, they answer to me. All of Dunop answers to me.”
Strog again raised his fist, ready to smash it even harder against the table top. Had he let it fly, it most likely would have broken the stone, but he held it in the air. He stood on the brink of frustration, just as he recalled the truth of this unholy alliance. As it quelled his own anger, he professed it to the queen. “Let us stop this game. You are queen because of my forces. My forces remain in control of Dunop because you are queen. This truth is undeniable. As much as both of us may wish to deny it, we need each other. If we fail to recognize this, we will fail.”
Yave grimaced. She was not as willing to concede that her authority was not absolute.
“You may fail, but I will not. It is best you remember that.” Still, her voice lowered in tone and in challenge. She may not have openly acknowledged the truth professed by Strog, but there was a glimmer of acceptance. “You will remain the War Com and I will remain the queen. That means you will listen to what I want, and I will accept how you intend to bring us victory. And what I want now is to erase this embarrassment. I want Burbon laid to waste.”
Strog groaned. “That is not a sound military objective. I tell you Burbon is not a threat to us.”
For the first time in this meeting, Yave controlled her temper. She spoke with authority, but with the coldness of an ice flow. “Anyone that threatens our independence is a threat. The humans defeated us, they showed us to be weak. We must rectify this at once.”
“There are other things to consider.” Strog gritted his teeth and held his own impatience in check. “The algors remain in the desert. Their stronghold remains intact. Let me deal with them first.”
Yave remained defiant against this suggestion. “You defeated the algors.”
“Not completely. That is what you must consider here. Many of the algors remain alive. By ignoring them, we invite an attack on our flanks. As long as enough live to create an army, they remain a threat.”
“I don’t think so. Do you really think the algors would dare to attack us? They would be no match for us in our home tunnels.” For the first time, Yave spoke the truth of her desires, admitted the purpose of keeping the algors alive. “Besides, I want some of them to survive, at least for a little while. I want them to think about what they’ve done and to know what it has brought them. If they still linger in their mountain in the desert, let them wait a little longer. Let them ponder their crimes and ponder the justice of the dwarf.”
For a moment, the thought of the algors suffering calmed the queen. She took pleasure in her victory. Yet, at the same time, she quickly considered her defeat, her embarrassment. He voice grew colder still.
“It is the humans that are jubilant.” She spat her judgments out like a bad taste. “The humans of Burbon now think they can get away with this injustice. They may even now be laughing at us. That I can not have. You speak of the algors and the threat they represent. What of the threat of the humans? They are now filled with confidence. They believe they can beat us. If you send your army to attack the algors, our flanks will truly be exposed. Not to the demoralized algors, but to the cocky humans. That is the true danger. It is my command we address this threat first.”
Strog made one last attempt to sway the queen of this folly. “I am not ready for this. To attack Burbon I will need time to develop a full battle strategy. Their captain is no fool. He may be calling for reinforcements right now. He may find none in Connel, but there are hundreds of human villages. I will have to assume this is so and I will have to use the bulk of my forces. It will take time to organize them.”
Yave was not the least fazed. “Take all the time you need.”
“That is not what I mean. My forces are prepared to attack the algors.”
“I want that to wait.”
“That is not wise. To attack Burbon I will need several days.”
“Then begin your preparations as soon as possible.”
Strog could say nothing more. He grumbled under his breath, considered ignoring her orders, but even if Yave wouldn’t acknowledge their mutual dependence, he did. He left her without further argument. His war boots thumped along the palace corridors as he uneasily considered the best strategy for redeploying his troops against Burbon.
Back in the trees, back near the heart of Dark Spruce, Lief and Holli climbed, leapt, and moved like squirrels. No longer were they slowed by the hard rock or barren landscape of the desert, no longer were they assaulted by the oppressive daytime heat of the Lacobian. Upon these branches, they moved with swift agility. Again, they were one with the land; again they were at home in their surroundings. On the forest floor, Ryson matched and surpassed their speed. He remained at ground level, but he was equally pleased to be free from the dangers of the desert wasteland. He glided over fallen trunks and jutting roots as he circled below the limbs and branches. He searched diligently for goblins and river rogues, but he found only the pleasing sight of colorful autumn leaves during the peak of the season.
Unfortunately, no blessing of the trees could remove their true troubles. Despite the welcome sight of the surrounding forest, the thought of the algor crisis remained paramount. Their grim expressions hid their joy, and the cool shade of this autumn day could not erase the image of what was to come. The war was escalating to a point far beyond their expectations. Even at this very moment, the algors were carving a massive army of sand giants and preparing to animate the legion with magic. There was little the three could do now, nothing else but return to the elf camp and warn others of this growing insanity.
Once in the trees, Holli had relaxed her
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