Chapter 301 - Army of the Undead part 13

I do not like to ponder just how much Khronos and I were alike, or perhaps I was more influenced by our Sharing than I gave it credit, but it was probably no coincidence that we both planned a full assault on our respective enemies at nearly the same time. Only the God King was a little hungrier for the battle than I. He attacked first.

I had summoned my closest advisors to my mountaintop dwelling, a large cave near the summit of Asharoth: Zenzele, Goro, Bhorg, and the Eternal Drago. Hammon and Eris, Neolas and Usus, and several other competent blood drinkers who had more recently come into my service, were also in attendance. They sat in a rough circle around my hearth, its flames low and crackling that night. We met to discuss the practicality of launching an assault on Uroboros. More specifically: the likelihood that such an assault would be successful. It was early spring in the twenty-first year following my flight from Uroboros.

Bhorg believed we should attack, and the sooner the better. The giant was confident his forces would triumph over the God King's minions.

Neolas agreed, saying that if Khronos were only half as depraved as we knew him to be, a significant number of his subjects would turn upon him the moment the outcome of the assault seemed in doubt.

"Especially his mortal slaves," Neolas said. "I have Shared with a few who have managed to escape Fen'Dagher. They live there in abject misery and terror. Their hatred for Khronos knows no bounds. They will rise against him the moment we attack."

Drago, as always, was eager for revenge on Khronos, and volunteered to lead the assault himself.

Zenzele was not so certain.

"I believe an attack now would be premature," she said. "We should bide our time a little longer, increase our numbers, insure that we have trained our warriors as thoroughly as possible before we move against the God King. If we attack now, we will have to throw all of our forces at the God King's troops if we are to have any hope of succeeding. And if they fail, we will be vulnerable to a counter attack."

"I agree with Zenzele," Goro said. He turned to look up at me as I paced around their circle, stroking my beard. "We have waited this long. What is another season?"

"Three times Khronos has thrown his armies against us this past winter," I said, "and three times we have defeated them or turned them back. The part of his soul that resides within me is mad with frustration. He will attack in full force soon. He will not be able to help himself."

"So we wait," Zenzele said vehemently, glaring around at her fellow counselors. "Allow him to make the mistake you are all too willing to make. Let him spend his forces on a futile attack, then he will be the one vulnerable to a counterattack!"

"The question is," Hammon said thoughtfully, "is it wiser to wait and allow him to come to us, or is it wiser to attack him first, and hope his people rise up against him? It is difficult to defend our mortal allies against his hordes. They always target the mortal settlements when they attack. They know it is our weakness."

As it turned out, the question was moot.

Even as they sat in circle around my hearth, debating the matter, a startled expression came upon Zenzele's face. She leapt suddenly to her feet, too surprised at first to voice her alarm. Her lips moved, but no sound issued from her mouth.

"Beloved," I said, "what is the matter?"

She blinked at me, her eyes wide, and then she sputtered, "It is too late, my love! He has already sent them!"

"What?" I said, walking swiftly toward her. "What do you mean?"

"He has already unleashed his assault. There is an Eternal among them, and a powerful blood god with the gift of blocking my far-sight. They are nearly upon us, and there are hundreds of them! I can't believe I didn't sense them sooner!"

She crossed swiftly to the entrance of our dwelling and peered into the night. The moon was a dim sliver and low in the sky, the valley a dark rift but for the glowing fires of the mortal settlement below.

We followed, all of us, and gazed out into the dark.

"Can you see where they are? What direction they're coming from?" I questioned her urgently.

She had already sent out her Eye, and gazed blankly into the starry heavens, her face slack. I could feel the energy streaming from her, stabbing out into the darkness, moving, searching. Finally, she came back to us. Her eyes fluttered and she looked at me with a fierce scowl. "I cannot see them. They've blinded my Eye. But their army is vast. I can feel them out there, drawing nearer by the moment."

I looked down upon Penthos, upon all the tiny communities of our mortal devotees. The villages seemed so terribly small and vulnerable suddenly. Most of the mortal settlements had no walls, and very few defenses. Penthos was the only settlement with any real fortifications. Our mortal followers relied on us to protect them. Ordinarily, our scouts, or Zenzele with her Eye, were able to give us enough forewarning to evacuate the mortal settlers to Penthos, where we could defend them, but not this time. This time we had been caught with our loincloths down. This time we had failed them.

That fragment of Khronos's intellect chortled gleefully in the back of my mind. Yes, he meant to attack the mortals! They were the most vulnerable segment of our society, and he knew we would be powerfully demoralized if he destroyed the very thing we were trying so hard to preserve.

I turned to my advisers, shouting at them in my panic. "Bhorg, Goro, Drago, Hammon! Gather your warriors. Bring them to Penthos if you are able to, if it is not already too late! Position them around the village. We must shield them from Khronos's wrath! Move quickly!"

"And I?" Neolas asked, after my generals had vanished through the entrance.

"Summon the Abuellas. Send them to the outer settlements. Evacuate as many as you can to Penthos, then stay there. Your priests must tend to the injured, and help to shield the mortals from harm."

Neolas nodded, and then he was gone as well.

Only Zenzele remained.

Her body was tense, all her muscles taut and twitching, but her smile for me was warm and gentle. "My beautiful one," she said.

I went to her and put my arms around her, laid my forehead upon her shoulder. She placed her cheek upon my chest, yielding to my embrace for a moment. She sighed, and then she pushed away from me, and the smile was gone. All softness had fled her countenance.

"Let us go to war," she said-- she purred-- and her teeth flashed dangerously.

I nodded, and she went to the ledge of our cave dwelling, her slim body moving sinuously, cat-like. She looked down for a moment, and then she gave herself to the dark.

I followed.