The chamber was vast, with a vaulted ceiling held aloft by pillars carved in the likenesses of ancient heroes. Those mortals who fought alongside Taloc, Hiro the blade, Masato the mauler, and Killing Kaito stood prominently, but many more heroes had been forgotten. A long table of dark wood stretched through the center, covered with maps and scrolls, each one detailing the grim situation that now engulfed Greenwood. King Aldric sat at the head of the table, glaring at his advisors with shadowed eyes.
Around the table sat the most powerful men of his dominion. Generals clad in battle-worn armor, their faces lined with the marks of a lifetime of warfare, be they dueling scars or heavy jowls from too much ‘negotiating’ around a dinner table. Bishops dressed in the newfangled yellow robes of the Church were in attendance. Their golden clothing exchanged for yellow dyes after the humbling of Lord Bishop Francois. A pragmatic alteration to allow them to move unhindered by pompous hats and golden threads. One of the many recent reforms that Lord Bishop Francois Pembroke had initiated after calling for a crusade.
King Aldric, unclasped his hands, breaking the silence. “Renosipe, read us the total once more, so we may all understand our… circumstances.” Said Aldric, keeping his fury even as only a man who’d trained for his entire life to be king, could.
“As you wish sire. Of our one thousand, one hundred, and twenty eight baronies, eight hundred and thirty nine report severe negative effects from portals, meaning more than a quarter of their harvest lost, or the deaths of at least twenty citizens.”
Eyebrows raised at the numbers, as the nobles realized their problem wasn’t a local issue. It was a national pandemic.
“Ahem, my agents report there are sixty four baronies that failed to report their status, most likely due to them being totally besieged or fallen. I swear this to be true, on the name of Therun Perun Taloc.” Finished Renosipe, taking his seat.
Several generals leaned against the table, using it to support their crushed hope. No one spoke. They had already heard the report once, but the news was no less stunning on the second pronunciation. During a total war –against countries of equal or far larger sizes– conflicts would generally occur in less than fifty fiefdoms. A hundred fiefdoms of any size being besieged was apocalyptic. But for over nine hundred fiefdoms to be imperiled was unthinkable. Beyond the pale mind of conception. There would be no food to be purchased, no levies to be called upon. No aid from nearby fiefdoms. Only the hundred or so unafflicted baronies could send aid. Trade would end entirely and the kingdom as a whole would grind to a halt.
“Sire, that simply cannot be true…” Said Lord Marshal Harrin, a grizzled gray veteran with a copper leg and only one arm left.
He served as the highest ranking general, and oversaw the strategic operations of the kingdom’s military forces, taking the burden off King Aldric’s shoulders. Murmurs of agreement swept through the crowd.
“Enough naysaying. I say this is true. Conduct yourselves accordingly.” Said Aldric. His voice, though measured, carried a tremoring note that was not lost on those assembled.
None dared refuse the king directly. Chins were rubbed, brows were furrowed, and many teeth were ground as the generals attempted to parse the sudden and total war. There had been no formal declaration, the enemy had no homeland to attack, nor leaders to assassinate. A few generals glanced at the row of monster heads behind them, some had taken them to be macabre decor, but now all understood them to be the heads of their enemies. All brought here from the northern baronies. Where fertility had once reigned. Now only monsters ate well, scorching their fields with venomous breath. After a few moments, Marshal Harrin spoke again.
"Sire, is this why you summoned our conscripts seven months ago?”
“Indeed, I wished to be prepared for the worst, though this,” He waved his hand over the casualty reports, “Exceeds my worst fears.”
“Your majesty, you’ve given us a fighting chance. But I must admit my own inadequacies. I have never conceived a war where every town in the kingdom was under siege. If the gods of our forefathers returned, it would not be half as precarious.” He said.
More nods of ascent echoed his words, for there was no shame in admitting you had not contemplated the impossible. Not after the highest general in the land admitted his own failure.
“Yes, we have a fighting chance, now let us choose where to fight, and how best to use our men. We cannot save everyone, but I desire to preserve the lives of the majority.” Said King Aldric.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Nodding sycophants agreed. Though none spoke. Damned yes men, how did I not see it before? Bah, I should replace the lot of them, send them all to the front.
A familiar voice cut through the crowd, taking the floor. “One land has beaten back the plague, and they have given us many creeds by which we may find ourselves triumphant. Greenwood reported a surplus of harvest as of their last missives.” Said Renosipe, gathering attention as a supermodel might gather eyes.
“Prudent council grandmaster. Though Greenwood survives with the royal magicians and the king’s own outriders.” Said Marshal Harrin, stroking his neat beard before elaborating. “Captain Dorian has sent me a number of reports as well. Greenwood is a small barony. We won’t be able to shield our entire population within sanctuaries, nor do we have enough magi to fortify everywhere.” Said Harrin, rubbing his temples. “Ah, given the nature of our professional and conscripted forces… We should strengthen existing fortresses and then send out long range raiding parties, warbands who can patrol the roads. I will note that half their cities were exterminated before they received reinforcements, and half the people in those surviving cities were ambushed unawares. If we recall Soren’s corps, and Captain Dorian’s outriders, then we could keep Talocandel secure.”
Eagerness crossed Renosipe’s eyes at the mention of 75% casualty rates among humans. A tell that only Aldric noticed.
“The plague started in Greenwood, any diversions from the battles there will only spread the plague more swiftly.” Said Lord Bishop Francois Pembroke. “Besides, we would be disobeying Saint Liam’s wishes, the man who conquered Pandora. I shudder to think what might appear if we leave Greenwood unguarded.”
His declaration ended all talk of abandoning Nyota, for no man wished to find himself unsupported by the church in this desperate time.
“Indeed, Greenwood may stand as they are. We must fortify a series of towns and existing fortresses, your advisors can deliberate on the best path for my magi to assist along. We must keep trade moving, while also safeguarding the cities. Soren’s research into lighthouses has been documented, and will be spread across the country, ahem, for a nominal fee.” Said Renosipe.
Harrin shot him a scowl.
“Parchment isn’t free, nor is the time and labor of scribes, but I hope this fee won’t select which cities survive and which perish.” Said Harrin.
“Gods no! Tis simply a fee so that my college can continue to exist. My magi will be hard pressed in the coming days, alliances and treaties will be tested. It would be understandable, yet unforgivable if we ran out of coin in pursuit of other’s safety. Should a mage starve to death, it could cost a city their safety. To avoid such an outcome, we should conscript all earth magi into a corps of engineers. Have raiding companies protect them as they journey from city to town. The Lighthouses of the north can be implemented easily here and across the nation. However…” Renosipe tapped his chin. “Some baronies are only reporting portal incidents, not conflict, yet. Reports indicate the portals are thickest near Greenwood and Blackwood. While they appear with diminishing frequency further afield. One hellhound can be left to the local baron, while a hundred hounds require our immediate intervention.” Finished Renosipe.
Marquis and Viscounts nodded, but looked to Lord Bishop Pembroke for confirmation.
“And what of our crusade?” Interjected Bishop Roderick, a tall, gaunt man whose pinprick pupils burned with a fervor born of faith. "We have blessed the armies, consecrated their weapons, and purified our hearts. When will we strike down Therun Perun Taloc’s enemies?” He said, a bit too loudly for the silent room.
“Hush Roderick, your legion is still training. If I was foolish enough to send you into battle, you would not die a glorious death, nor would you slay Taloc’s enemies. But your men would all perish. Mighty Taloc has shared a plan with me. I have ten legions currently standing by, and a dozen being assembled. They have already been given orders and have started to fight across the country. At each city they will stop and dig a trench, then build earthworks. I’ve contracted with local architects across the nation and they’ve begun planning for our arrival.” Said Francois, speaking with a noticeably casual nature.
His words soothed the nobles as only a Lord Bishop could. Many perked up at the mention of divine revelation.
“Lord Bishop Francois, can you share any more about Taloc’s word? Even a small phrase would uplift my soldiers and make them fight all the more fiercely.” Said General Harrin.
Francois closed his eyes. He knew what they wanted, and wanted to provide it, after all, a priest’s duty was to uplift his followers. But he would not dare temp Taloc again. Three years without a stiff cock had been a hard enough lesson.
“His plan is not for all, there will be many casualties. Before this plague is bested, every man will know someone who has perished. Hmmm…” Said Francois, choosing his words as carefully as if his bits were connected to a lie detector. Which in turn, was connected to a shotgun. “Victory is within our grasp. But only if every man takes up his blade. Hmm… Yes, and Taloc plans to empower the faithful, those who treasure their families, and preserve their neighbors.” Finished Francois, hoping the lie wasn’t misunderstood.
How could he tell the humans that Taloc planned to slay all of them, then alter the felinids to inherit their world? Some humans would be spared, but none present. Maybe not even Francois himself.