Chapter 16

Desari wiped the steam away from the obsidian mirror, checking out her new appearance. That of a houses’ Ember servant.

She pulled the shawl around her tighter as most of the Embers did, hiding their caste tattoos unlike the others. Few wanted to be at the bottom of the volcano.

“That’ll work.” She gathered up clothes, ducking her head, leaving the changing room. She passed through the laundry room, filled with steam. Other embers stirred heated baths of soapy water filled with clothes, hung them up and passed them through caverns glowing with molten heat, drying them stone stiff to be folded.

Desari dropped off the clothes, grabbed a bucket of clothes for the wet racks, dropped it off and slid through people, she grabbed up a package of dried clothes and moved it to where someone would collect them.

She slipped through the bundles and out a side door. The simple heat of Cinderstein greeted her as she started walking.

No one moved out of her way, she kept her head low, watching for others and weaving between people. Moving along the side of the road where the Embers walked.

It didn’t take her long to reach the stationary store she wanted. Instead of going through the front door into the polished stone store, she slipped down the side to the delivery door and rapped on it, drawing out a letter.

The door opened, a young infernist opened the door, his scowl deepening at her appearance.

“My houses’ master requests materials,” She held out a letter. One that she’d pilfered from the commander’s hidden stash, cleaned of ink and then carefully forged into a list.

The man snatched the letter away from her, his fingers rubbing the paper as his eyebrow raised, it continued as he saw the seal and cut it open with a flick of a blade.

Desari pulled out a pouch of native coin.

“It will take me a few minutes,” He took the pouch and darted back into the building, shutting the door on her face.

Desari’s mouth quirked up into a smile. So far so good.

Several minutes later he returned with the supplies in a bundle.

Desari took it with a bow.

The man quickly shut the door on her.

She slipped back through the crowds and streets, her package disappearing into her storage ring when unseen.

Through an alleyway she straightened her walk, tattoos turning to that of an Infernist. She pulled off the shawl, revealing Infernist dress underneath.

She slipped through trading areas unseen, to a group of businesses that lay empty, the Infernists supplying the military with the food they required and would be away for several more days.

Still she cast alarm and silence spells, defense needed to be layered.

Desari took out the package and undid it.

Sheets of tied paper, most the exact same as what she’d given to the merchant. Wax, brushes and inks. She had all the tools she needed now. Throwing her braid to the side she pulled out the copies of Ravst’s letters, picking out the ones with the words she needed for her own missives.

Dipping the brush into the ink she started writing in his hand.

Hours must’ve passed, a growing pile of completed letters on the corner of her desk when her pocket shuddered.

Desari closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pulling out the crystal and threaded her mana into its structure, activating it.

“V here, how copy?”

“P here, loud and clear.”

“M here, loud and clear.”

“D here, loud and clear.” Desari rattled off, pinching her eyebrow and closing her eyes again.

“The city is being checked through. I do not think that I will be able to remain hidden for much longer,” Valter said.

Desari’s eyes snapped open. That was going to move up her own timeline.

“We will need to move up the timelines accordingly,” Valter continued.

There was a pause before Petor spoke up. “The food situation is starting to get dire. Most groups are on half rations right now. Deliveries from Cinderstein are being slowed down. Forces from Cinderstein are also needing food but they don’t have the supplies needed either. They haven’t fought a campaign away from the Volcano and don’t have the support. It is increasing tension between the groups. Molten Fist are running out of supplies, the Lavawalkers are demanding food from our own supplies. Full supplies not half rations either. They see the Molten Fist as if they were Embers.”

Mya waited a few seconds before she started talking. “We hit some of the weapon and gear transports. I am told that a few got through. It should be enough to really up the Infernal Marauder’s strength. That’s the good news, the bad news is that we got about two thirds of the gear. We’re missing at least two of the convoys. I’m not sure where they are. Though with the new weapons and their confidence I can get the Marauders to push up their schedules and hit the Emberclaw. I would say that having some of your help sooner rather than later would be appreciated. It won’t be long until Emberclaw or the Molten Fist figure out that the Infernal Marauders are in on the show.”

Desari waited, but Mya had nothing more to say First time for everything .

“I have started in on the second part of my plan. I should have it completed in a few hours. We’re going to have to really push up the schedule if we want everything to happen at the same time for maximum confusion and disarray,” Desari said.

“Plans never survive contact with the enemy. We have two days before I need to leave,” Valter said.“P, See what you can do to increase the conflict between the Cinderborn and the Molten Fist. A few crates of supplies going missing and showing up in the Cinderborn’s camp would be good,” Valter said. “Have the Infernal Marauders got anything from the Molten Fist?”

“Not really. Nothing is budging on that side of things,” Mya said.

“Without the support of the Cinderborn or the Emberclaw the Molten Fist will be in a tough position. P it is time for you to live up to your moniker. To become famine. Destroy their food stocks by any means necessary. It is time to create chaos. Anything else?”

“I can hit the storage locations here and leave markers that point to the Molten Fist,” Desari said.

“Do it,” Valter said. “Anything else?”

Silence greeted his words.

“Good hunting.”

The crystal dimmed. Desari withdrew her mana and sat there, looking upon her desk. The letters sparks, just ink and paper. Tools to destroy an army. She picked up her brush, inked it and continued working.

***

Petor clicked his tongue and used the reins to slow the Iska, the lizards that were used as beasts of labor, as they reached the newly expanded town turned military camp.

Mosi talked to the guards, Petor slowed their pace without bringing the cart to a full stop. He tapped Drevin with an elbow.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The man startled awake and looked around before settling down.

“Another camp, yay,” Drevin muttered under his scarf.

Petor just grunted back. Most finished talking to the guard, the gates opening wide to let them in.

A flick of the reins had them moving once again, the guards watched them closely, trying to figure out what was under their tarps.

He’d never realized just how much an army relied on supply. Sure it was a thought and something he understood technically. Being one of the drivers for a supply convoy taught him how hard they worked behind the scenes.

Through the new stone gates the camp opened ahead of them, tents had been thrown together to create accommodations in every open area. The walls being expanded by soldiers carrying the old remains to the new markers. Stone masons guiding them.

“More guards than ever, damn Ilus and their raids.” Drevin muttered.

Petor grunted. “Didn’t help with the damn supplies.”

“Nope,” Drevin pulled down his scarf to spit to the side, glaring at the tents covered in the markers of the Cinderborn. “And now Cinderstein doesn’t have any more food to sell.”

Petor grunted, he’d been part of carefully crafting that rumor through others. Few troops were training, without the room and getting rested. The tension was climbing, just a spark away from boiling over. The fight would need to come soon or things would start to boil over.

And its my job to create the sparks and make things boil over.

Mosi led them to the warehouse district. Guards ringed it, checking everyone before they entered and when they left.

“Looks like security is getting beefed up,” Drevin muttered. “See those patches on their arms.”

Petor rubbed the dust from his goggles to get a better look.

“Yeah?”

“They’re from Riven’s band. Front line fighters, all of them, used to serving in the meat grinder. Now they’re watching over the food stores.”

Mosi finished chatting and they passed through the checkpoint. The guards watched them as they passed, before turning their gaze to their fellow mercenaries and those walking around the district.

Petor held out the reins to Drevin. He took it with a grunt, leaning forward on the bench seat.

Petor took off his scarf and goggles, hitting them against the side of the cart to clear the dust that worked its way into everything.

He draped the scarf back over and put the goggles on his head again, turning to the cart, he pulled up a side of the tarp and drew out his checkboard.

The cart was relatively full of supplies. Most of it food for the troops.

Drevin expertly pulled them up to a warehouse, Mosi getting down from his cart two supply officers moving closer as the dust settled.

Mosi waved him off and moved his hand around in a ‘get it unloaded’ manner.

“How much you bet we barely have enough time to get some hard tack in before we’re moving again,” Drevin sighed as he brought the cart to a stop.

“No bet. You want to take care of the mounts I’ll unload,” Petor put his checkboard back in place.

“Works with me. Don’t go breaking your back now, might be young, but no need for that.”

“Don’t worry, lift with my legs and all that,” Petor dropped down the side of the cart, using the steps along its side to stretch out his legs and his back. It was anything but a comfortable ride on those carts across Dragon Falls.

He unhooked the tarp holding down the crates as he went along the side, then the rear and up part of the other side.

No level unloading area here .

He drew out several Emberbloom seeds into his hand, pushing the tarp away, a tug pulled off the top of a crate, he pushed the seed into the food inside.

He called the emberbloom to grow . The seed cracked and tendrils reached into the food packet, consuming it and starting to bloom.

He quickly closed the top of the crate and pushed it to the side, repeating the process with several crates.

He fed the emeberbloom seed within, encouraging it to grow, to consume the food within.

He grabbed two crates, stacking them, just able to see over the top as he carried them into the warehouse.

One of the two people that had been talking to Mosi was there, adding up a tally as they went through. Some of the others knew where to put the crates and Petor just followed, inserting the emberbloom crate into the middle of the growing stacks.

He cut off the growing weave as he released the crates and headed back out.

So it went adding more and more crates. He snuck one into his storage device while no one was watching.

They emptied their carts down to nothing. The drivers checking the mounts even more vigorously than before.

Yeah off to somewhere new then .

“What’s the word Drevin?” He asked, the last crate dropped off.

“We’re heading back, pick up rations from cities and towns that aren’t in the fight to move it up. Scraping the damn barrel,” Drevin said as he rubbed down the lizards with a brush—getting out the stone dust from under their riding gear.

“Great, we at least getting something to eat?” Petor asked.

“Yeah—”

“Mount up!” Mosi yelled, cutting him off.

Drevin finished off his brushing. Petor quickly tied down the tarp to its points and got up into the bench seat, after him.

Mosi led them away from the district and back out into the cramped town, bringing them to a stop near one of the camps.

They parked up against the side of the road and Mosi signalled them over.

“Alright, you’ve got three hours and then we’re on the road again. We’re heading back to get more supplies from whoever has them.” Mosi shook his head. “I’d suggest sleeping.”

“Food?”

“We got a chit, but that’ll probably be for half a bowl here.” Mosi shrugged to their groans.

The Cinderborn camp isn’t too far from here.

“Use it wisely.” He turned and left them to it.

“I’m going to find a bathroom then,” Petor said and waved to Drevin.

“Catch you in a bit.”

Petor left quickly before any one else could follow him. The camp was tight, buildings and tents used in a haphazard way. Though he’d been in plenty of camps and while it was weird he could figure it out quickly, moving through the camp. He stored his scarf and goggles away, he was still covered in red dust, but so were most of the common people around here.

It didn’t take long to reach where the Cinderborn were, they had a lot more buildings and their guards looked parade ready at the gates, and quickly degenerated the further into camp.

A loop around the camp and he found a spot that was well worn from people coming and leaving, though there wasn’t anyone there now.

Petor dropped off the crate of food, continuing on his way. Be a couple of hours till the emeberbloom grow all the way.

Should be plenty of time to get back on the road.

He spotted some Molten Fist guards sitting around with raised voices and furtive glances. He couldn’t see what they were drinking, but there wasn’t just water in their veins.

“Umm, hi?” He asked one of the mercenaries tentatively, doing his best to look like a worried farmer.

“What you want? We don’t have any more food than you.” One growled at him.

“I uhh, well I saw a group of those Cinderborn. I think that they stole a crate of food. It had them markings on the crates?” Petor said.

“Taking food?” The idle chattered died down. the voice came fromm one holding court, low in anger.

“Yeah, it was umm up the road a bit. Three alleys up along the side of their camp. They move through there a lot.”

Petor flinched back as the man stood up. “Lets go on a patrol boys, see what we can see.”

They rose from their seats, checking their gear. Petor moved to the side and out of the way. Moving away as they continued on their way.

He took a twisting path back to the carts, putting up several more posters, These ones didn’t need time to activate. He was running out of that already.

Turning into a damn powder keg and we’re out here shaking it all about and handing out lighters.

He ate some of his own supplies before he got back to the camp, donning his scarf and goggles again he laid out in the bed of the cart to get some damn sleep.