The next morning, Tenthé woke and lay still, enjoying the absolute silence of the cavern. After a few minutes, he convinced himself that he had stuff to do, and after a big stretch, rubbed the grit out of his eyes and sat up. Casting a small flame, he discovered that during the night he’d managed to track quite a lot of sand into his bed. He wasn’t sure how that had happened, since he didn’t even remember getting up to pee, or anything. Speaking of which, he rose, drew a few random wet lines on a nearby boulder and pulled out an old breakfast bun. As he gnawed, he made a mental note to replenish his supplies.

After shaking the sand out of his blanket, he put it away and took a moment to prepare. He checked that his uniform looked okay and there wasn’t too much out of place, then walked over to the ramp. Although he’d never used it, he figured it should come out somewhere in the City Center.

At the top was a corridor ending in a couple of heavy doors chained shut on the outside. Pushing on the doors made a small gap just big enough that he could wiggle through. He emerged behind some bushes. As he expected, the doors were situated on the side of a nondescript stone building located in the City Center, somewhat near the road.

There weren’t many people around, so Tenthé pushed through the bushes, crossed the lawn, and stepped onto the sidewalk. He aimed himself toward the street that led to the main gate and started out. It was still early, but in a while, the army should show up for its daily foray against the Horde.

Tenthé felt relatively safe, currently he was an older matron. After reaching Gate Plaza, brilliantly named because it existed to receive and stage traffic through the city gate, he wended his way through the crowd gathered to cheer on the soldiers. There was still plenty of time, and, if the City hadn’t changed too much, once the troops had assembled, someone would feel the need to give a speech. Why? Tenthé didn’t know. The overlays meant the soldiers were ready to go and as enthusiastic as they could be without the need for encouragement.

Vendors worked the crowd, selling food and drink. Something was off, though, and it took a moment for Tenthé to figure out what it was. There were no street kids running around looking for opportunities to exploit.

He sighed. The City was not how it should be. It had lost its soul and become more like Angel City, or maybe even the Horde. He was pondering this thought as he neared the gate itself. Here, the crowd was sparse, since the army would generally push them out of the way. Plus, it wasn’t the safest place to be when the gate was open.

Here, the wards were tremendously strong, making it difficult to stay in stealth. Tenthé pushed through a cluster of people and emerged as his Runner persona. He kept his replacement hand in a fist, which looked nearly normal, although he had to be careful that his empty sleeve didn’t flatten out too much. Fortunately, there was still enough of an upper arm that even though it was a little off, no-one should notice anything out of the ordinary.

Tenthé had noticed the wards looking for him weren’t active, here in the plaza. Most likely because the wall wards were so overpowered that the tiny city wards would be blasted to pieces. Unfortunately, the wall wards were very sensitive to weird magic, so he had to be extra careful to avoid setting them off, too.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tenthé saw a bit of glitter in the gutter. A penny! How fortunate. He picked it up and looked around for a vendor. A few moments later, drink in hand, he continued wandering across the plaza, occasionally sipping, but mostly examining the wards. They were massively strong, but unimaginative. Tenthé couldn’t figure out why the City seemed to be stuck using such classical magic. He supposed it worked well enough against the Horde, who didn’t change much, but still, he would have layered more varied designs to make it a good deal harder to defeat.

Something he’d noticed, over the years, was that if there was strong leadership, one of the first things to go was creativity. From what they’d seen outside the gates, Tenthé thought the Horde and the City were like two brutish brawlers bumping heads and wailing on each other. He wasn’t above taking advantage of their single-minded focus to put his own ideas into play.

From the cheers he heard in the distance, it wouldn’t be long before the army got here. A number of priests began pushing the crowd to the side, so Tenthé moved into a small alcove and waited.

Shortly afterward, soldiers marched into the plaza. First came rows and rows of the front-line troops equipped with either heavy or light armor, carrying various types of spears and swords. To Tenthé’s sight, everything glowed with a myriad of enchantments. Much of the armor looked too flimsy, but with magical enhancements, it could be both light and tough. The heavy armor would slow the wearer down, but it would also help when magic was being suppressed. For much the same reason, a variety of physical shields were distributed among the soldiers.

Tenthé yawned. This was all so boring! If he were the Horde, he could come up with any number of ways to counter the City tactics.

Following the front-line troops were ranks of even tougher looking men. From their badges, these were the veterans, used to fill in when things got difficult. They would also be the ones to ensure the less experienced troopers stayed in place. No matter what.

The Envoy had commented on the inexperience of the soldiers in direct contact with the Horde, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d portrayed. Most of those here weren’t fresh recruits anymore, although there were a few who appeared jittery and a bit too clean.

The rows of soldiers kept coming until the plaza, as large as it was, was nearly filled. At that point, the magic casters and healers filed in to complete the muster. The Magisters were somewhat less organized than the rest, but still had the air of seasoned veterans.

The last to enter was the command group. As he had hoped, there were several older kids dressed as Runners accompanying them. In the heat of battle, it was the best way to distribute commands. Tenthé didn’t recognize any of the boys, they were probably special for this job.

Yells sounded across the plaza and the troops came to attention, then turned to face the back. One of the generals was hoisted up by a couple of his guards, where he proceeded to address the men. Tenthé wasn’t listening. It was a variation of a speech he’d heard a million times. Looking at the crowd, he realized that there was some compulsion built in. Everyone except him was pumped up, yelling at the appropriate points and screaming their support.

He should learn that trick. He’d given a few speeches in his life and, for the most part, the results had been disappointing. As far as he could tell, the general wasn’t saying anything special. Of course, it was more common than not that Tenthé’d been one of the very few to leave the field at the end of various battles. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought that up in his speeches.

Finally, the general was done. Everyone was screaming in a frenzy. Hopefully, that would work out for a victory, but it wasn’t likely. The relatively small number of spectators showed they weren’t entirely mindless since most of them were exiting the plaza in expectation of what was coming. Tenthé saw the air waver as shields were put into place to counter whatever the Horde would toss in this direction when the gate opened.

As the citizens left, Tenthé used the commotion to cover his movements as he made his way behind the troops until he was near the command group. When no-one was looking, he dashed up to stand beside the casters, doing his best impression of a Runner who was supposed to be there.

At another garbled order, the troops spun to face the gate. It was starting to open, moving ponderously, but nearly silent. The first few shots from the Horde flashed against the shields and Tenthé felt excitement pulse through the troops. There was no magic involved, just pure adrenaline. The more senior troops hid it better, but Tenthé caught them quietly checking their weapons and enchantments. The Horde was no joke. A command rang out and the front lines began to move out.

“Boy!” he heard.

Tenthé looked up into the face of a captain.

“Tell Lieutenant Richter one-twenty-seven!” he barked at Tenthé.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Sir! Yes, sir!”

The overlays told him a one-twenty-seven was to tighten up to the left. Who Lieutenant Richter was, well, that was a bit of an issue.

“Um, sorry sir, but I’m short. Where’s Lieutenant Richter?”

“Get it together! I’ve not seen you before, but you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t ready! He’s where he should be, over there. Remember the order of the day!”

“Sir! Sorry, sir! It won’t happen again!”

“See that it doesn’t! Dismissed!”

Tenthé ran off in the general direction the Captain had mentioned, searching for anything that looked like a lieutenant. Of course, there were a couple of choices.

When he got close, Tenthé yelled, “Lieutenant Richter!” and fortunately, one of them looked over at him.

“One-twenty-seven, sir!”

The lieutenant appeared somewhat annoyed, but turned to his troops, yelling something. They shuffled left a minuscule amount and halted, waiting for their turn to move out.

That had been a near thing! Tenthé didn’t feel the urge to return for more messages. Glancing around, he noticing the rest of the Runners beetling back and forth. Someone liked to micromanage. He decided it was time for some exercise, and began running back and forth as well, doing a fine impression of an overworked Runner.

Finally, the last of the troops moved out. By now, the gates were all the way open, and the flashes from the Horde’s heavy weapons were nearly continuous. Nothing was getting through the shields, so Tenthé wondered why they even bothered. Maybe they hoped to get lucky?

Hoping for luck in a battle was a fool's game, but possibly they had a plan he couldn’t see. It was early yet.

A cone of red light flashed upward from somewhere ahead, carrying a few pieces of armor with it. It appeared the Horde had managed to mine the road. A couple of Magisters pushed past, and shortly afterward, the back echelon lurched to a halt as the troops in front of them stopped suddenly.

A few minutes later, more colored cones blew into the air all at once, and after a time, the troops began moving again, although there was still a bit of stop and go.

Tenthé could hear some yells from ahead, but he had no idea what was going on.

Just as the command group cleared the gates, something smashed down onto the magic shield covering the troops. It was held in the air and Tenthé had time to identify it as a Horde warrior. The warrior lurched sideways to dodge a bolt, then fiddled at its waist and dropped through the shield. A commotion of sparks and lights burst from the troops where he’d landed, but the army kept moving.

As the rear echelon moved ahead, Tenthé watched the troops in front of him branch out to each side. Shortly afterward, enough space opened up allowing him to see that the soldiers had formed classical U-shaped defensive wall, with the open end facing back toward the City. While he was looking around, the command group made its way into the center of the “U”. A decent place to oversee the battle.

As this was going on, lights, rocks, and bolts from the weaponry on the City walls passed overhead and descended onto the Horde.

It wasn’t entirely one-sided, though. Some glittery ball jerked around the sky and landed on the top of the City wall, causing a huge flash. Tenthé saw bodies fly off and plummet to the ground.

From his decidedly poor vantage point, Tenthé couldn’t see much, but by all indications, it was obvious the City Troops were scuffling with the Horde on the forward lines. The soldiers, though, weren’t poorly trained House troops. They were a seasoned force and appeared to be fighting the Horde to a stalemate.

The Magisters had raised a platform and were directing massive amounts of offensive spells over the heads of the City troops. Tenthé couldn’t see how effective it was, but it certainly was impressive. If they were blasting him, he might have to work a bit to deal with it. Good to know. Even though direct confrontation wasn’t his preferred style, he spent a few moments analyzing the magic and deciding how he could counter the various spells. This was made more difficult by the fact that each Magister did different things. There were the old standards: fireballs, stun, lightning, force bolts, earthquakes, and wind. But added to this was a Magister using shear, another sending weaponized spirits, and one more calling down rocks from the heavens. Interesting.

It was likely they had other spells in reserve. Were he planning on staying here, he might see these in action, but now that the forces were engaged, it was time for him to do his thing.

The troops were completely covered in enchantments to ensure stealth wouldn’t work, but Tenthé had abilities they didn’t know. He refused to use the Dominator to control the brains of the troops, but that still left him with quite an array of choices. These days, he ran out of enemies long before he’d gone through all of his various techniques.

But he wanted to make an impression. The time for working in the background was over, and it fit his mood. He hadn’t felt any truly hard hitters on the field, no gods or Sages, so he made his choice.

To prepare, he layered an assortment of shields on himself. His choices were varied and complex, plus he’d adapt as necessary. Once he was happy, Tenthé started moving toward the front line, right where he would be the most obvious.

As he advanced, his shields shoved the troops aside, non-too gently. Several soldiers began to retaliate but paused when all that they could see was a lowly Runner. Before anyone could figure out some response, he was past and gone.

In an open spot before he reached the front-line troops, a voice rang out, “Stop right here, laddie! Stop! Stop or I’ll fire!”

Of course, he didn’t stop. A bolt shot at him, but with a flicker, he wasn’t there anymore. It impacted ahead of him, causing a few troopers to be blown away.

Deciding quickly, Tenthé yelled, “Doppelgänger behind the lines! Take him down!”

A few men fired back on the soldier who’d hit them, and a firefight ensued. Tenthé didn’t bother to wait around and kept on, pushing aside men until he was in the open, facing the Horde.

It was quite a sight! Across from a no-man’s-land between the two forces, the Horde had thrown up earthen bulwarks to hide behind. These were sloped on the City side to deflect shots and deny cover for the City troops, if they advanced.

The Horde itself was immense, with warriors covering the ground as far as Tenthé could see. He noted the sight, but didn’t pause and continued to cross the open space between the forces.

To give them credit, some of the men tried to stop him. A few of them grabbed at him, their hands slipping off his shields. One or two even swung their pikes at him, but they landed harmlessly. Occasionally, spells were directed his way, but either they fizzled out or careened off into the distance. Or other soldiers.

As he left the city troops behind, some of them figured he was a threat of some sort, so the spells became much more powerful. He was transformed into a dome of destructive energy, with continuous flashes of light, horrendous booms, and earth being blown everywhere. Lightning crackled and fireballs were deflected, exploded, or fizzled. As he reached the halfway point, the Horde joined in.

Tenthé snickered. At the moment, it appeared that both sides had stopped fighting each other and were concentrating on him. He felt special.

The weapons used by the Horde were a bit different. They tended to use enhanced weaponry, mostly heavy javelins with destructive spells attached. He leaped to the side to avoid a massive bolt from the City defenses, it flashed past, slid on the ground into the Horde bulwarks and careened off into the distance.

At the height of the onslaught, Tenthé decided to change his technique and swapped his shield dome for the layer that returned the spells and weapons to their source. In an instant, he went from a ball of unreal destruction to an expanding star of death. Every attack was sent back to its sender with a tad extra added. On both sides, hundreds died.

The fighting ground to a halt as Tenthé continued his little walk. Everyone had stopped attacking, so he resembled nothing more than a little boy marching across a war-torn wasteland.

When Tenthé reached the lines of the Horde, he was met by a wall of warriors who rushed him, screaming. They seemed to have forgotten the City troops in a single-minded frenzy to take down something that had inflicted the worst casualties of the siege, so far.

Tenthé returned his shields to their original configuration. As the mass of warriors surrounding him grew, it became somewhat difficult to move. Slowly he pushed ahead while warriors attacked. Some of the enhanced weapons were quite powerful and actually made it through the outer layers. At that point, they met his swirling shield and were ripped out of the wielder’s hands. As the weapons twirled by, Tenthé examined them to learn how they had managed to be so effective.

All of a sudden, the warriors cleared back as several Words rushed up. These were carrying a very potent form of anti-magic, and Tenthé felt his shields collapse. Or rather, his classical shields. He spun up a few of the more exotic ones.

Suddenly, he was surrounded by a crowd of ghostly blue creatures with disembodied hands, feet, and heads. No matter what the warriors did, their attacks were met by an extremity that halted the attack in its tracks. Magical weapons, whether thrown or swung, went dead and were pulled into the swirl. Tenthé resumed his march, accompanied by crowds of powerless warriors howling and screaming their frustration.

Another bolt from the City flashed past and plowed through the warriors. Many were tossed aside but got up after they’d stopped tumbling. Once more, Tenthé marveled at the toughness of the Horde. It was nearly impossible to take them down with the weapons the City was using.

The point of brightness that Tenthé had identified as the Mentor kept moving, so he had to continually adjust his route to follow. The Horde warriors had finally learned and were unhappily accompanying him as he and his ghostly shield moved through their ranks.

Behind him, he could hear the war starting up again as the two sides resumed pounding on each other.