Magic was exhausting. At least for normal people. Arkk had yet to come across a situation that had drained him to the point where he had to take a seat. He owed that to Fortress Al-Mir, however. Most people didn’t have a direct connection to an ancient magical artifact that acted like a reservoir, pooling the combined magic of everyone in his employ and the very land that he claimed as his own.
To maintain an active siege—or a defense—for anyone else, they would have to rotate out their spellcasters on a fairly regular basis. Large spells capable of destroying walls or ballistae were often multi-person castings. Rituals not too different from what Zullie, Vezta, and Savren were finalizing back home. Though, with a different aim.
For that reason, active magical bombardment over any length of time required the use of hundreds of spellcasters. Not exactly a feasible option most of the time. Spellcasters weren’t rare but quality spellcasters were. That was why normal armies still used siege engines such as trebuchets, catapults, and siege towers. Assuming they didn’t just have their army encircle wherever they were sieging until the food supplies ran low and the besieged were forced to surrender or starve.
What Evestani lacked in mechanical siege engines—left behind to swiftly move across the Duchy—they more than made up for in terms of spellcasters.
Elmshadow’s walls shook and the soldiers trembled as another stone the size of a small house fell from the sky and shattered against the protective dome. The ritual circle concocted by Hawkwood’s spellcasters flickered with the impact and, shortly after, the ground rumbled as bits of the boulder rolled off the dome and struck the earth outside the wall. One of the three casters around Arkk sagged, letting out a long groan before some of Hawkwood’s men dragged him away. A young woman that Arkk recognized from a few hours ago, already looking haggard, replaced him. Margarete, if Arkk remembered her name right.
Arkk stood at the anchor position. The same spot he would assume during Fortress Al-Mir’s ritual. It was the most magically intensive spot yet, six hours after taking it up, Arkk barely felt a faint sheen of sweat touching his brow. For all he knew, that sweat came from the way Agnete stared at him from the sidelines, still hidden in White Company’s armor. Any exhaustion he felt was purely physical, a product of having to stand around in one spot for several hours.
Even if he was fine, he couldn’t run the ritual on his own. Hawkwood was running out of fresh spellcasters and having to use people who weren’t fully recovered.
“Hawkwood,” Arkk called out. “We’re running out of time here!”
Above, standing on the wall, Hawkwood shouted back. “With that last one, I believe we’ve pinpointed where they’re casting from. Get up here. Kelsey, take his spot!”
A young man, younger even than Arkk, looked up with heavy eyes. He was a capable spellcaster, one that was easily on par with Zullie or Savren, but he had been inside the ritual circle three times as much as anyone else. Arkk watched his sluggish movements as he stood from where he had been resting. He was about to object—Agnete could take the spot—but didn’t get a chance before Astra’s stern voice called down.
“Hold. Allow us. Chronicler.”
Arkk pursed his lips as the gaunt Chronicler Qwol looked to his superior, frowned, and then slowly headed toward the stairs. Compared to Greesom, who had fought with agility and gusto despite his heavier frame, Chronicler Qwol didn’t look like he could fight a twig, let alone an orc. Even the way he took the stairs down from the wall was akin to an elderly man who had forgotten his cane.
As he approached the protective ritual circle, Arkk looked into his sunken dark eyes and couldn’t help but ask, “Are you okay taking over?”
The man licked his dry lips, eyes meeting with Arkk’s for a short moment before he shuffled into the ritual circle. “As long as you lasted? No. But I shall suffice for now.”
Arkk frowned, watching a moment as he took the spot Arkk had been keeping. Looking up, Arkk found the faint glowing embers within the steel helmet off to the side. He gave a brief nod of his head. The glow intensified ever so slightly as Agnete nodded back. With that, Arkk turned for the stairs leading up to the wall.
He hoped Agnete understood what he meant by that. He felt like it was pretty obvious. If that chronicler did anything to sabotage the ritual, she was to take him out and take his position as fast as possible. Hopefully before any golden arrows or house-sized magical boulders dropped on Elmshadow.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Arkk looked out over the snow-covered fields. He no longer required a spyglass to see the Evestani army. Hawkwood’s archers kept them from approaching too close but it was still daunting to look out over the sea of people so close. He had thought the goblins attacking Langleey had been bad. Or the monsters assailing Darkwood. While this group lacked the ability to climb or jump atop the wall—they were all human—the scale of the army was simply on a different level.
He couldn’t help but feel like he was out of his depth once again. Just as he had been getting used to being a mercenary leader and had been making plans to expand—mostly to protect himself and Fortress Al-Mir—this came along to show him that things could always get worse.
Master Inquisitrix Sylvara Astra stood with her hands on her hips, stance wide, as she looked out over the wall. To her side, the maniacal-eyed purifier brought up his hands in front of his eyes, one hand upside down. He drew his fingers apart like he was framing the army, except a black void sprung up between his thumbs and index fingers.
Out in the distance, another sphere of inverted colors spread out. With a disjointed giggle and a snap of his fingers, the sphere collapsed. It didn’t quite reach the invading army but it did keep a small group who had been getting brave from approaching any further.
Hawkwood shot the two inquisitors a look before meeting Arkk’s eyes and shaking his head. “Sorry to put you in that position.”
“I’m fine,” Arkk said.
“Indeed?” Astra asked. “Quite the constitution you have.”
“That’s about my only redeeming quality,” Arkk shot back, wondering if he should have played up being exhausted. He had been too concerned with powering the ritual circle, keeping people alive to worry about that. Too late now. “You found their casters?”
“The majority of their force is stationed in a protective ring in roughly the center of the army. That is just a decoy, however. The bombardment rituals are being conducted just off to the side, currently in the shadow of the right mountain,” Hawkwood said, though he didn’t point or even look in the direction. He just handed over the spyglass. “Don’t be too obvious about looking. We would rather not have them move before we’re ready to strike.”
Arkk focused on the main encampment of the army, the area Hawkwood first indicated. It wasn’t his first view of the Evestani army since he had scried on them multiple times. Still, seeing them through the lens of the spyglass rather than through the crystal ball made them somehow feel more real. Rows upon rows of pikemen, soldiers, calvary, and even spellcasters filled the area between the mountains. They were setting up tents and, in a few areas, looked to be cooking some kind of stew. Clearly, they didn’t intend to conclude their siege before the day ended. Longer, starvation-styled sieges could take months yet that didn’t fit with how Evestani had operated thus far. They likely intended to be inside Elmshadow’s walls within a week.
Did they know of the approaching Duke’s men? Did they think they could take them on as well as Hawkwood’s forces?
Arkk didn’t know. All of this—war, sieges, even battles beyond a dozen people tactfully striking surprised targets—it was so far out of his realm of knowledge that he could hardly believe that Hawkwood was bothering to include him in these kinds of events. He wasn’t Hawkwood’s aide nor a military scholar. He just had a few odd spells, a few odd creatures, and a magical fortress that wasn’t much help in defending distant lands.
Swallowing his nerves, he carefully swept the spyglass back and forth, casually observing each side of the army before settling back in the center.
“There are identical encampments on either side. How can you be sure which is which?”
“That would be thanks to our inquisitorial allies,” Hawkwood said.
“Purifier Tybalt possesses the ability to detect magics,” Inquistrix Astra said, turning her red eyes on Arkk. “Especially miracles and anathema.”
Arkk tried not to glower. She knew who he was. She completely knew who he was. If the purifier’s abilities were accurate, they probably even knew of Agnete’s presence.
Well, if she was going to politely ignore who he really was, who was he to complain?
“Plans?”
“That…” Hawkwood started, shifting slightly. “We have a plan. How do you feel about working with the inquisitors?”
Arkk, possessing unimaginable powers of foresight, saw that one coming. He looked back to Inquisitrix Astra, who offered a polite smile that didn’t reach her cheeks, let alone her eyes.
“I have heard you are quite the resourceful man,” she said. “This operation will require resourcefulness in great qualities.”
Arkk smiled back, lips straining. “What exactly are we planning?”
“This calls for a chirugeon’s blade, cutting out the heart of their spellcasting capabilities. Myself, Purifier Tybalt, and Chronicler Qwol are capable but slipping through the ribcage that is our enemy’s encampment to strike at the heart is tantamount to suicide.”
“Ah, yes, because adding one extra person will make this strike team succeed where it was otherwise destined to fail,” Arkk said, trying and failing to keep the snide out of his voice. Turning back to Hawkwood, he asked, “Can’t we bombard them back?”
“They will have defenses of their own.”
“If their spellcasters are busy powering defensive rituals, they won’t have time to launch attacks. I can get eight more spellcasters here within two hours. If we can hold out for that long—”
“Brace yourselves!”
The cry that had become uncomfortably familiar over the past day made Arkk tense up. He spread his legs, steadying himself in preparation. The sky darkened as the protective ritual strengthened in anticipation of the incoming boulder. The boulder itself blocked out the sun, casting the wall in an even greater darkness.
It struck the protective barrier, breaking apart into much smaller fragments. The ground shook and the wall trembled as bits and pieces, still the size of large animals, tumbled down the barrier and slammed into the ground outside the wall. Arkk grit his teeth, gripping the parapet to steady himself.
A loud cry from the direction of the protective ritual circle made Arkk’s blood chill over. The haze keeping the chunks of rock from crushing them blinked twice then failed. Rubble, no longer supported by the barrier, tumbled directly toward the wall.
Arkk grabbed hold of Hawkwood, throwing them both to the ground just in time to avoid a cow-sized chunk of rock. Smaller bits and pieces showered down on them, forcing Arkk to cover the back of his head with his arms. He’d have welts all down his back in short order but figured that was a better outcome than being crushed.
One man, still with the wherewithal to keep watch, shouted out, “Another one!”
Arkk’s eyes widened. Despite the pain in his back and arms, he threw himself to his feet. The chunk of the boulder that had almost crushed him and Hawkwood had collapsed a portion of the wall behind Arkk, separating him and Hawkwood from Astra and the purifier. Judging by the shouts, not everyone on the wall was as lucky as they had been but Arkk didn’t have time to help anyone.
Using the same spell he had used at the Duke’s party, an ethereal road formed in front of him, granting him the swiftness and surety of step to dash down the stairs as fast as possible. The Electro Deus on his tongue stalled before he could fry the chronicler, however.
Chronicler Qwol sat crouched in the center of the ritual circle, gaunt face contorted in a look of concentration. Agnete strode forward, not to incinerate him for his sabotage or treachery but to take over the position of Margarete, collapsed and unconscious in one of the radial spots.
Heavy boots landed at his side. Astra, having vaulted from the wall, stood from her crouched landing. Arkk glanced at her, watching the way she cracked her neck as she straightened her back. He didn’t say anything, instead rushing forward with the last of his enhanced swiftness. When one member of the ritual circle fell, it sapped magic from the others at an increased rate. All four were wobbling. One looked ready to collapse. Arkk reached the caster, grabbed the man’s shoulders, and all but threw him from the ritual circle. No time to be polite about it.
Sylvara Astra, hot on his heels, did the same to the other wobbling caster, hefting the man up with little obvious exertion before stepping into the spot herself. She added her magic to the array just in time for the second boulder to slam into the barrier. Although a bead of sweat rolled off the side of her face, the ritual circle didn’t even flicker.
Emboldened by the initial failure of the barrier, Evestani sent another dozen boulders at Elmshadow in such rapid succession that they had to have exhausted their spellcasters. With Arkk, Agnete, Astra, and Qwol powering the defenses, not a single pebble made it through.
When the attacks finally ceased an hour short of nightfall, even Arkk was feeling a little drained. At least he was on his feet. The chronicler, who had been stuck in the anchor position for the duration, collapsed into the arms of one of Hawkwood’s men. Agnete, still wearing her armor, shuffled away with slumped shoulders and heavy breathing once one of Hawkwood’s men could take over. Their time in the ritual circle had afforded some much-needed rest to White Company’s spellcasters.
“Eight extra spellcasters… would be handy right about now,” Sylvara Astra said, taking deep breaths between her words.
Arkk tried not to look too guilty. While he could probably get them here, there was one small problem. He had eight spellcasters but they weren’t his. Following the invasion, he had offered Katja asylum within Fortress Al-Mir because he needed them for the ritual. They weren’t his employees and Katja wanted to charge an arm and a leg for their services. Fortress Al-Mir wasn’t exactly hurting for gold right now but it very easily could be if he had to ask for more than what he had already negotiated.
He had a discount thanks to offering them asylum but Katja knew he needed her and wouldn’t kick her out. That, unfortunately, gave her a fair amount of bargaining power. With practically every other spellcaster in the nation tied up in the war, he doubted he would be able to find others on short notice.
When Hawkwood and Astra had told him the vagaries of the plan, he had suggested bringing over the spellcasters mostly because following the plan of a potential assassin hadn’t sounded like the brightest idea. Now… it was safe to say that he had changed his mind about their theoretical status as assassins.
If they were working with Evestani, they would have simply allowed the defensive ritual to fail.
“You… have quite the frightening constitution… Mister Arkk.”
“You knew?” Arkk said, his train of thought broken at hearing his name.
“I have read all of Inquisitor Vrox’s reports. His depictions of you were extensive.”
Arkk’s fingers twitched. “So? What now?”
“Now?” Astra planted on hand on her hip, looking up to the wall.
She delayed speaking, probably still trying to catch her breath. If he was being honest, her constitution frightened him far more than his own. Arkk was a cheater, using Fortress Al-Mir to power his magic. Astra, on the other hand, looked less winded than Agnete. While it was true that Arkk couldn’t see Agnete’s face to confirm, the heat around the ritual circle had faded to next to nothing over the last hour. That alone made Arkk think that she had been putting everything into the ritual to the point where she couldn’t even maintain her heat.
“This may come as an insult to your pride but you are no longer our priority. The war greatly concerns the Ecclesiarch. We have orders to hunt the dragonoid. You are a person of interest but not worth pursuing. Especially given Vrox’s assessment.”
“Assessment?” Arkk asked. “What’s he been saying about me?”
“That you and your anathematic magics are contained and do not represent an immediate threat to the greater Abbey of the Light or the good people of the Kingdom of Chernlock. I believe he also mentioned that you are utterly unassailable, though I believe that to be Vrox’s attempt at saving face over his disastrous assault.”
Arkk pressed his lips together. If Vrox were here himself, telling him all this, he would likely have believed it. That was the nature of the trust he had in Vrox. Master Inquisitrix Sylvara Astra, on the other hand, he knew nothing about. Only that she had helped defend Elmshadow just now.
“Thus, I propose the following. We eliminate the enemy’s ability to cast siege magic. Then you and I go our separate ways. I make a report that you are contributing to the defense of the realm as I hunt this dragonoid and you… carry on until such time as the Abbey of the Light deems your continued existence no longer palatable.”
Arkk folded his arms over his chest. “I can agree to that, I suppose. Though I would prefer if my continued existence wasn’t on the line.”
“That isn’t something I can directly affect,” Astra said, red eyes flicking from him to the purifier at the top of the wall. “Cooperation, I imagine, can open many doors. Making yourself known as a defender of the Duchy isn’t hurting, I assure you.”
“Fair enough. I assume you have more to this plan than marching through… What was it? The enemy’s ribcage?”
“A metaphor,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Are you willing to hear the actual plan?”
Arkk put on a fragile smile, wondering if this was how Agnete had felt anytime the inquisitors made use of the Binding Agent. Hopefully, she didn’t still feel like that with him. “If it stops these attacks, I’m up for just about anything.”