Tears of Liscor, page 39
part #9 of The Wandering Inn Series
The Dragon vanished. Erin blinked as Octavia’s shop, cluttered but familiar, appeared. And lying on the hardwood floor was a man with bright green hair. He was dressed in colorful blue robes decorated with magical symbols and mystical monsters like the dragon in gold, and he looked like he was in his mid-thirties. He was also lying on the ground, clutching a bleeding nose.
“What the heck?”
Erin stared at the man and then looked around. Octavia’s shop was right there, as it always was. And sitting behind her counter was Octavia, frozen in the middle of eating her breakfast—a stale piece of bread with mold growing on one corner.
“Octavia? What’s going on?”
“You punched the magician.”
The Stitch-Girl stared at Erin and then slowly bit into her piece of bread. Erin stared at her and then heard a moan from the ground. She looked down. The [Mage] was getting up.
“E-Eltistiman Verdue, Miss. At your service. I do apologize for the scare. Ooh…”
He covered his bleeding nose. Erin stared at him.
“You were a Dragon. Why’d you do that?”
He winced.
“I rather hoped it would have impressed you. Scared—but impressed. I had an entire lineup ready to go, but I didn’t expect you to punch a Dragon in the nose. I’m terribly sorry. Just let me—”
With one hand covering his bleeding nose, he fished in his robes and came out with a handkerchief. He covered his nose with that and then bowed slightly to Erin.
“As I said, my name is Eltistiman Verdue. I am a [Magician]. Do I have the honor of speaking to Miss Erin Solstice, proprietress of The Wandering Inn?”
“That’s right? You’re a [Magician]? Are you some kind of illusionist? A performer?”
Erin was starting to regret punching the man in the face. Sort of. What kind of a person sprang a Dragon on someone in the morning? Well…someone like Eltistiman, apparently. He nodded, trying to tilt his head back, pose, and speak all at the same time.
“I do tricks and wonderful illusions for all to see. I heard your inn was a gathering place for a wonderful new show—by the Players of Celum? I had hoped to audition to join them as part of the attraction, but I fear my first attempt was somewhat off-putting. I beg your forgiveness.”
“No, I’m really sorry. I, uh, just have a thing about Dragons. Actually, I’m really sorry I punched you.”
Erin looked around frantically, then called out to Octavia.
“Um, Octavia? Can I buy a healing potion?”
The [Alchemist] brightened. So did Eltistiman. Erin beckoned him into the inn, flustered, embarrassed, and slightly amused all at once.
“Sorry. Have a seat and a healing potion, on me.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t—”
“No, really. You said you do illusions? I’m sure the Players would love to meet you, especially because Pisces has a job. You come over too, Octavia. And stop eating that bread! Is that the penicillin mold I wanted you to cultivate?”
“Nah, this one’s a bad batch.”
“Well, stop eating it! Have some breakfast in my inn. I have hot rolls. Come on—uh, Eltistiman you said? You can eat here. Do you like rolls? And what kind of illusions can you do?”
Erin beckoned the bemused [Magician] into her inn as Lyonette and Mrsha appeared at the top of the stairs, the [Princess] holding a sword. They were soon followed by Jelaqua with a flail, who relaxed as soon as she saw there was no danger.
Erin sat Eltistiman down as her guests filed down the stairs, a bit early to breakfast and carrying weapons. The [Magician] apologized as he sat down for breakfast, and Erin found herself going into the kitchen for more rolls and some coins for Octavia, who wanted payment in advance.
That was how she started her day. And apart from that, it was fairly ordinary. For her, that was. For other people, the day began as ordinary but quickly became quite interesting indeed…
——
There was a lot Olesm could say about the culture around Drake [Tacticians] and [Strategists] and the way that Drakes made decisions, both militarily and politically. If pressed, he might even be able to say something complimentary. However, for all the chaos and infighting that went on between the Drake cities, it had to be said that they weren’t all idiots.
When the news of the Goblin Lord’s rout at Dwarfhalls Rest had reached the south (practically within minutes of it occurring thanks to the wonders of magic and paid informants), the Drakes had taken note and begun waiting for news of a pitched battle. But it never came.
Then they heard the Goblins were on the march with the Humans pursuing. A few suspicions had been raised, but there were countless reasons why Lord Tyrion’s force might not have chosen to engage just yet, and so the Drakes had kept an earhole open while tending to their business. So a day had passed, then four days. And then eight.
By the ninth day, it was clear that the Humans were up to something. The Human army mustered by Tyrion Veltras had been pushing the Goblins at a breakneck pace, but they had yet to engage in any major clashes. The [Strategists] took a serious interest and came to a series of rapid conclusions.
“They’re trying to push the Goblins into our lands.”
Olesm handed out a sheaf of transcribed reports to Zevara, Embria, and Ilvriss as they sat around a meeting table. All three Drakes sat up at once, and Zevara stopped yawning. She snatched the scroll from Olesm. The analysis from Zeres’ top [Strategist] had been supported by five other Drake [Strategists], hence the mass of notes and addendums to the report itself. Her eyes flicked back and forth rapidly as Embria and Ilvriss read their reports as well.
The newly minted [Strategist] of Liscor hovered nervously until he realized he should take a seat. He’d read the contents of the report already, and he’d come to the same conclusion. Tyrion Veltras wasn’t going to fight the Goblin Lord. He was going to push the entire army straight through the High Passes or around Liscor so they could cause more havoc in Drake lands.
“That scaleless, fleshy bastard!”
Embria was the first to react. She hurled the report onto the table and stood up. She began striding about the conference room, her claws opening and closing as if she wished she were holding her spear. Ilvriss looked up and glowered.
“Swifttail, do you concur with this analysis?”
“I do, sir.”
Olesm gulped and sat up straight. He felt comfortable around the other Drakes normally—okay, he’d avoided sitting in the same room as Embria after she’d tried to invite him out for drinks, and Ilvriss was still a Wall Lord—but right now, he was in his official capacity, and this had a direct impact on the safety of Liscor. He cleared his throat, and his tail curled around his chair leg.
“I, um, completely agree with the report. There’s no reason why Tyrion Veltras wouldn’t have attacked the Goblins already if he was intending to destroy the army. He outnumbers them both in quality and quantity of his troops, which is clearly overkill.”
“Clearly.”
Zevara muttered, still reading. Olesm nodded again. His leg jittered under the table, making the entire table vibrate slightly. He stopped and flushed.
“Sorry. It, uh—yes, clearly he could have won at any time. But he delayed attacking for so long, and he’s marched an entire army so far, at great expense I must add! If you factor in the cost of feeding so many soldiers and paying them, not to mention taking them away from their posts…”
Ilvriss was nodding.
“Clearly, he has a plan. And this is it. In true Human fashion, he intends to push the threat of the Goblins onto us.”
“It’s sound strategy.”
That came from Embria. The red-scaled Drake looked like she was stepping on hot coals, but she nodded grudgingly as she went back to sit down. She looked at the other Drakes as she spoke.
“That Goblin Lord’s already destroyed two armies and taken out a pair of [Generals]. The Humans can let him rampage across our lands so that we’re weakened. Maybe they intend to beat us during the annual battle at the Blood Fields, or maybe this is part of something larger. Either way, the Goblin Lord is their weapon to do it. They can run him south and claim he ‘got away’.”
“No one would buy that, surely.”
Olesm protested weakly, but Ilvriss shook his head. The Drake ground his teeth together.
“The excuse would be flimsy, but it would work, politically. We have an accord with the Humans that prohibits unprovoked assaults onto Drake sovereignty. So long as they can pretend that they have no direct hand in what the Goblins do, they can claim they’re upholding the treaties.”
He grimaced. The other Drakes sitting at the table went silent, and then Zevara spat a lick of flame.
“Politics.”
She rolled up the scroll and tossed it at the table. Then she looked hard at Olesm. When she spoke, it was with the sharp edge to her tone that she used in battle. Olesm was relieved to hear it. Ilvriss might be a Wall Lord and Embria was technically his superior and an officer of Liscor, but Zevara was the Watch Captain. She held the walls, and she was the one who made the decisions that kept Liscor safe.
“Olesm, you’re convinced the Goblins are headed south. The question I have for you is this: are they coming through the High Passes or past Liscor?”
Olesm frowned and tapped the tips of his claws on the table.
“The report gives it seventy-thirty odds that they’re going through the High Passes rather than Liscor. The Goblins can probably survive marching through the base of the High Passes with minimal casualties—well, they’d probably get at least half across with the Goblin Lord leading them.”
“But you disagree?”
The [Strategist] hesitated. His mind was working hard now.
“I’m considering that they might come through Liscor, yes. And if they do, we’ll know soon.”
He went over to the map of Izril he’d brought to the table and pointed out Tyrion’s current position on the map.
“They’re four days away if they keep marching this fast. Maybe five or six if they hit delays, but four’s my estimate. If it’s the High Passes, though, we’ll know tomorrow. They’ll have to change course, and they’ll be there two days from now.”
Embria eyed the winding gap that marked the only other entrance point between north and south in the High Passes.
“Assuming they do that, there’s little we can do. They’ll pop out far further west. But say they come to Liscor.”
She tapped Liscor on the map and pointed out the basin that Liscor lay roughly in the center of. Embria shook her head.
“It’s foolish to try pushing the Goblins across the water while Liscor is flooded.”
“If they try to push the Goblins across the water, they’ll die by the tens of thousands to our archers on the walls and the monsters and fish in the waters. We can range them, if not with bows, then with spells. And they won’t have boats. They’ll be sitting ducks!”
Olesm nodded. That was what the [Strategist] from Zeres had written. But still—he frowned.
“That’s true Wing Commander Embria, but the High Passes are just as deadly. It might be safer to dare crossing the basin, especially if Rock Crabs and assaults from Liscor are the only dangers. We have limited arrows, and even if we slew—what, forty thousand? How many arrows can our archers put out per minute? What if the Goblins travelled around the edge of the basin? That’s still a huge force if this Goblin Lord can keep it alive. And more if they link up with the Goblins from the dungeon.”
Embria paused. Ilvriss sat up slightly.
“You think Tyrion Veltras is aware of the Cave Goblin situation and intends to grow the Goblin Lord’s army?”
Olesm shook his head.
“I doubt he knows, Wall Lord. But it might complicate matters if he finds them there.”
Ilvriss nodded slowly.
“I have given much thought to the situation. There may be a few thousand Goblins living in the dungeon still, at least several hundred. Like all of the monsters that plague Liscor, they must be dealt with.”
Olesm’s stomach did an unhappy belly flop. Ilvriss sighed.
“It is my duty to say they should be eradicated without mercy. But to slay them outright…it sits ill on my conscience.”
“Yes, sir. I completely agree.”
The Goblins had helped save the citizens of Liscor. More than that, Olesm had gotten to know the Redfang Goblins living in Erin’s inn, and he couldn’t fathom the idea of killing them. Embria clearly didn’t share the same opinion, however.
“They may have served Liscor once, but they are monsters, Wall Lord. If you wish to reward them, give them an hour to run and then send the Watch and my soldiers after them.”
Ilvriss glanced up.
“You think you could rout an army of two thousand Cave Goblins, Wing Commander Embria? With your 4th Company?”
There were barely more than a hundred soldiers in her company. Olesm blinked, but Embria nodded confidently.
“Give me a thousand Level 10 [Soldiers] and I could take on an army twice as large. Against Goblins? Four times. My company and I were deployed to hold Liscor. If the Goblin Lord comes through Liscor by water or these Cave Goblins need to be dealt with, the Watch supplemented by my soldiers can deal with either issue.”
The red-scaled Drake smiled confidently. Ilvriss nodded slowly, and Zevara frowned, but didn’t object. As for Olesm, he nodded slowly as he did the calculations. Embria wasn’t lying or boasting—much.
A hundred of her soldiers plus a thousand members of Liscor’s Watch could do just what she said. They’d proven it in the dungeon against the Raskghar; with low-level recruits and part of Liscor’s army, they could take on threats vastly above their level. All thanks to Embria and her officers.
It was Liscorian strategy—that was to say, a way of forming armies unique to Liscor. Liscor had an army of a few thousand strong at all times, a small army given how large the city was. Even smaller Human cities in the north half as large as Liscor had an army of at least five thousand! But the Watch was equivalent to any militia, and Liscor’s regular army didn’t need numbers to win battles. They had a trick, an open secret anyone in the military could figure out, really. And the secret had to do with classes.
At birth, each citizen of Liscor was formally conscripted into Liscor’s army with a small ceremony. It was a trivial detail for most, but it was mandated by law. None of Liscor’s citizens had to join the army, mind you. It was a formality, but that formality mattered very much for how Liscor’s army operated. Because it allowed them to promote their soldiers with impunity.
You couldn’t have an unlimited amount of officers in an army. That went against common sense and military protocol. There was no way you could have two [Generals] in the same army, obviously. In the same way, higher-ranking officers required a certain amount of [Soldiers] serving under them or they couldn’t change classes, even if they were promoted in rank. That usually posed a slight problem in other armies, but not in Liscor’s army.
Olesm wasn’t sure of the numbers, but if one [Sergeant] was promoted to command eight soldiers…or sixteen, or even thirty-two….there was a finite number that could be fielded in any army. And smaller armies of a few thousand would have a few hundred sergeants at most. But if every citizen of Liscor was technically a soldier…
It was the trick that made Liscor’s army so deadly in small numbers. They had only a few thousand regulars in the army. But they had so many [Sergeants], [Captains], [Lieutenants], and even [Wing Commanders] that they could turn a group of low-level [Soldiers] into an army of war demons.
That was how Liscor fought. They kept an elite core of high-rank officers and constantly recruited soldiers who would fight under the effects of a dozen Skills at once. That was why a hundred or so of Embria’s soldiers and officers could actually turn the tide of battle if they fought with the City Watch. That was how General Sserys had held the Antinium in the first Antinium War at Shivering Falls Pass, and it was why Liscor’s army was famed throughout Izril.
Embria wasn’t wrong to think she could beat an equal or greater force with help from the Watch, but Olesm knew Liscor’s army wasn’t invincible. It had suffered defeats like any other force, and the Second Antinium War and the assault on Liscor by Az’kerash had shown just how weak Liscor’s army was to an enemy with powerful magical support…
“Olesm? Olesm!”
The Drake jumped. He looked around and realized Zevara was looking at him. He flushed and sat up.
“I’m sorry, what was that, Watch Captain?”
Zevara ignored his lapse as she tapped the map in front of her.
“So the Goblin Lord will be pushed through the High Passes or go around Liscor. That’s the contents of the report. What do you believe the reaction of the other cities will be?”
“Naturally, to ensure the Goblin Lord does not pass into Drake lands and disappear.”
Ilvriss frowned. Olesm nodded.
“I believe that the Walled Cities will put forward a motion to gather a truly large suppression army at Pallass. Or Zeres, if the Goblins move through the High Passes instead of Liscor. They will attempt to meet the Goblins and force them back to the Human lands in turn—or destroy them where they are.”
He grimaced, imagining how difficult it would be for all the cities to send the required number of soldiers to Pallass in time to repel the Goblins. Zevara just nodded.
“In that case, we can only wait to see what the Humans do. But if they come to Liscor, I’ll make sure the Goblin Lord’s army turns the waters red. I’m going to check our ammunition stores and recheck the status of the enchantments on our walls. Wall Lord Ilvriss has agreed to communicate with the other cities, and Wing Commander Embria will do an inspection of our walls for weak points, if any. Is there anything else we should be doing?”
Olesm shook his head.
“No, I’ll, ah, continue monitoring the progress of the Humans. I will of course report to you all when I have any information—”
