Chapter 37
Rys lounged on the sofa in his war room, a glass of red wine in one hand and a book in the other. The wine was an imported variety from southern Gauron. It was cool-climate, like the local grapes from Kavolara, but from much older vineyards. The difference in quality exuded from every facet of the liquid, and Rys savored the drop.
It had cost him a pretty penny, and Vallis had frowned at the expenditure. That suggested that drinking pricey wines from Gauron might need to go on the “special occasions” list of activities.
Speaking of Vallis, she paced back and forth on the other side of the war room. Tyrisa sat by the map table, scribbling in a large tome. Nobody had said anything all morning.
“Is it always like this?” Vallis blurted out. She threw her hands up and groaned.
“We have news from both Fort Foret and Aretiers,” Tyrisa said, not even looking up from her book. “It might be days before the Malus League reaches Fort Foret. Especially as their mages hinder our scouting.”
“When did you become a tactical genius?” Vallis muttered.
Tyrisa smirked. “I’ve picked up a thing or two. Maybe you should read the meeting minutes I write.”
The two women glared at each other for several minutes.
Rys ignored them. Tyrisa was right, but the waiting was difficult. For Rys, it verged on insufferable.
He wanted to be out there, not waiting until the Malus League was close enough to Fort Foret that he could safely travel there and be part of the battle. This seal frustrated him.
On the bright side, everything had gone according to plan. Grigor and Fara had captured Aretiers in a night raid. The leaders of Compagnon were being sent to the dungeons in Castle Aion, and Maria was seizing control of Aretiers. The future of the city was uncertain, given it competed with Anceston and Port Mayfield, but that was Maria’s problem to solve.
Farther south, Alsia had taken Fort Foret. Compagnon had all but abandoned the place. Presumably, they had no reason to defend a border with the Malus League now that their alliance was public knowledge.
They now waited for the response from the Malus League. Tarmouth had sent word that thousands of soldiers had vanished from the garrison at Gravuskeep the morning after Aretiers was taken. Days had passed without word now.
The cause of the problem was the state of the pass between the Malus League and Fort Foret. The mountains ran just shy of the coastline, creating massive bluffs. Below those was a dense swamp. According to Vallis, a decrepit road ran through the swamp.
For an army, a swamp was possibly the worst possible terrain to traverse. Even if the road had been repaired by Compagnon—highly likely, given the secret alliance between the two powers—it would still be slow going for the enemy.
The swamp also made scouting difficult. Enemy mages might detect the Malakin, and Rys didn’t know the capability of the Malus League’s spellcasters. Until the enemy emerged from the swamp, they were practically invisible. It was a rough border to defend, but that ran both ways. Rys could use this swamp to his advantage in the distant future.
“What are you even writing in?” Vallis asked Tyrisa, drawing Rys from his thoughts.
“Why do you care? You always say I write down too much,” Tyrisa snapped back.
“Because you’re not recording meeting minutes, or doing paperwork. It’s strange to see you doing something different,” Vallis said.
Tyrisa glared at Vallis. The implication that Tyrisa did nothing other than paperwork did not go down well.
“She’s preparing her knowledge Gift,” Rys said, turning his eyes away from book. He snapped it shut.
Tyrisa’s eyes widened, and she covered her tome with her arms. “How do you know that?” Then she blushed. “Oh, right. You’re you.”
Vallis rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you’re better off asking about the things Rys doesn’t know. But I thought knowledge Gifts were some mental thing. Like devils sharing their brains with other people?”
“It is, but that’s exactly the problem,” Rys explained. “An unrestricted knowledge Gift gives the user complete access to everything the knowledge devil knows. You could rifle through their memories and learn what they’ve been doing. It’s a very dangerous thing for a knowledge devil to hand out. By writing knowledge into a magic tome, they can control what is accessible through the Gift.”
Rys could do exactly that to Darus with her knowledge Gift, but she’d quickly realize he was responsible. She’d explicitly told him that nobody else had her unrestricted knowledge Gift, after all.
He grimaced at the reminder of the Twins. He’d been ignoring them recently, save for brief visits to learn minor things. The longer he put them off, the worse his next visit would be, he felt.
Tyrisa nodded enthusiastically at Rys’s words. “Exactly right. Only really stupid knowledge devils give out unrestricted knowledge Gifts.”
Somehow, Rys felt Tyrisa had marked herself for death. Those were not words to be spoken lightly, given whose knowledge Gift Rys had.
Rys politely coughed, and both women turned to face him. “Just so you know, I have an unrestricted knowledge Gift from the Darus Twins. I recommend you be careful making such broad statements.”
Tyrisa’s eyes nearly popped as they tried to escape her skull. She shot up out of her chair and sent it flying backward. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
“Who?” Vallis asked.
“The most powerful knowledge devils still alive!” Tyrisa screamed. She turned to face Rys. “You have their knowledge Gift? You know them? How? Why? When?”
“Still alive?” Rys asked. “What happened to Kauros?”
Tyrisa frowned. “He went missing during the Golden Age. I’ve heard some of the older infernals joke about how he went on a ‘shopping trip to Ahm’ and never came back.”
Rys stared at her blankly.
One of the three archdevils was missing. How the everloving fuck had he missed that?
Rubbing his temples, Rys asked, “Did any other major players go missing or drop dead recently? Argran choke on a turkey bone? No, Grigor’s Gift from him is still active. And I know Lacrissa is still alive.”
“Err, I think Kauros was the most significant change among the infernals since Kushan.” Tyrisa licked her lips. “I didn’t really think you wouldn’t know. Or would pay much attention to knowledge devils. I can’t believe you know the Darus Twins. What are they like?”
To shatter her dreams or not?
“They’d be as likely to kill you as talk to you,” Rys settled on. That was probably a lie. He suspected Darus would kill any woman within several miles of him, given how they’d behaved last time he brought one up.
“Wow,” Tyrisa said, a stupid grin on her face. “Maybe I can pull off what they did and become like them. A knowledge devil capable of terrorizing others, just like a real devil.”
Vallis grimaced. “Not sure I want that.”
“Nobody asked you,” Tyrisa snapped. “Once I have enough valuable knowledge, I can start trading my knowledge Gift to other infernals. That could change everything for me.”
“Is that what this is all about? Power?” Vallis asked, scratching her cheek. “Huh. I guess I read you wrong. Took you for an office girl. My bad.”
“Is there something wrong—” Tyrisa instinctively snapped, before pausing. “Oh, you, uh, don’t think that’s a mistake.”
“Nah, it’s a good idea. I mean, look at king shit of everything over there.” Vallis pointed at Rys. “Kind of living proof that it’s a pretty smart approach to life. Although, I do wonder what he thinks about your plans to leave him.”
Tyrisa blushed. “I didn’t mean to hide it. And I don’t plan to leave you, Rys. I…” she trailed off.
“I’m not stupid,” Rys said. “Knowledge devils gain a lot from being in Harrium. And I know more about infernal sorcery than literally everybody other than maybe Kauros.” He stressed the “maybe” in that sentence. “So leaving me might not be a good idea, given I can teach you a thing or two in the future.”
Previously, he had considered Kauros to be a fluke. The idea that knowledge devils could become supremely powerful had never seriously occurred to him.
But now Darus had repeated the process. Could Rys create his own Darus, except less crazy and utterly obsessed with him?
Something to worry about in the distant future, but Tyrisa showed promise.
Hours passed. Eventually, Tyrisa received word from Alsia.
“You’re heading out?” Vallis asked. “Leaving us poor women behind to cling to our dresses and pray?”
“You’re not wearing a dress,” Rys pointed out. “Neither is Tyrisa.”
“Our skirts, then.” Vallis grinned.
“Who are you going to pray to?”
“Dunno. You? I didn’t really think that far ahead. Do you really need to question this? Kind of ruining my sarcastic jibe.” Vallis shooed him out of the room. “Go on, leave. I have an annoying devil to spank once you leave.”
“The hell you do,” Tyrisa snapped, her eyes flashing. “There’s only one person who is ever going to—” she cut herself off, then buried her face behind her tome.
Vallis winked at Rys.
He rolled his eyes and left them in the palace. It took four teleports to reach Fort Foret, which was enough to upset even Rys’s stomach. He sat down for a few minutes at the far end and stared at the fortress from a nearby plain.
Blue flags flew over the small stone fort. The design on it was simple: a black silhouette of the island of Kavolara, with a white wand from Maria’s family coat-of-arms and a jagged scimitar that represented Alsia’s original dain. They were Rys’s flags. The flags of the Kingdom of Kavolara.
The fort was a simple one, but an effective design. A central keep and two layers of concentric walls. Rys reached out with his magical senses. The outer wall lacked any enchantments, but the inner wall was protected by barriers. Neither could stand up to even light magical bombardment for any length of time.
Not for the first time, Rys wondered about how far magical development had fallen. He had laid siege to some of the greatest fortresses in existence and defended others from immense threats. The Infernal Empire had trained companies of dragons, each of which could launch spells capable of vaporizing this little fortress and everything around it.
At the peak of his power, Rys knew he could defeat those dragons. It had taken an army of rebel dragons to destroy the Infernal Empire in a surprise assault on Ruathym, when most of the defenders were away.
This battle was the most important one that Rys was going to fight since waking up. It was also going to be one of the most insignificant battles he had ever fought.
Nothing he could do about it, Rys decided. He stood up and brushed himself off.
An Ashen greeted him at one of the exterior gates, a cigarette in his mouth. Rys wandered inside.
Hundreds of soldiers had encamped inside the outer wall. Rys saw a clear separation between the Kinadain soldiers and the infernals. Although a quick scan suggested that at least a few of them had been lured by the charms of the Lilim.
Almost every Kinadain had a pair of horns on their head, but none of them had the same draconic decoration that Alsia’s had. A handful had wolf ears and a long, fluffy tail, but they were comparatively few. Alsia had been truthful when she explained the racial spread within the demihumans of Kavolara.
The Kinadain soldiers were predominantly male, Rys noted. At first, he found that curious. Magic was a great equalizer. But then he remembered that the horned Kinadain didn’t use much magic.
Notably, the couple dozen wolfkin appeared to have a much more even split between the genders.
The demons kept to themselves, playing games and talking loud enough for every village within thirty miles to hear them.
Once Rys passed the inner gates, he found the Ashen and the noble demons. Alsia, Grigor, and Fara were inside the small keep.
A bulky wolfkin stood near them, wearing a worn breastplate with faded runes and some leather armor beneath it. His eyes focused on Rys, but the wolfkin remained silent.
“Rys,” Alsia said, smiling as he entered. “You arrived sooner than I expected.”
“It’s early afternoon. There’s a good chance the Malus League will attack right away,” Rys said. “A smart general would wait, but they might be counting on the element of surprise. Or maybe they prepared some spells in the swamp.”
“Unfortunately, that’s likely what they’re doing,” Fara said. “Their mages came out with the main army, then walked right back into the tree line. Taras tried to get a look at them, but they have mage-knights protecting them.”
“Mage-knights?” Rys asked. The term was unfamiliar to him.
“It’s what folks from Gauron call soldiers that rely on physical-enhancing armor, instead of their own magical talent,” the wolfkin said. The unspoken words, “And why didn’t you know that?” stung Rys a little.
Alsia coughed, then introduced the wolfkin, “This is Elder Jaime. He has assisted me greatly in organizing the dains and gathering warriors to repel the Malus League.”
Jaime bowed his head to Rys. “Duchess Alsia’s been good for my dain. The old elder worked with those stupid fools that Barul rid us of—may his soul find rest—and we finally have a chance to fix a lot of problems.” He held a hand out to Rys. “I look forward to seeing your performance in battle, King Talarys.”
Rys took the hand. Jaime’s grip was crushing, but compared to Grigor’s it was like shaking hands with a small child.
With a smile, Rys let the elder withdraw his reddening hand. Rys didn’t usually bother with stupid handshake games, but he gave as good as he got.
“Hah, if you fight as well as you shake hands, I don’t think we’ll have any problems,” Jaime said with a grin, refusing to hide his hand or his defeat.
“I’m glad that Alsia has people to support her in the dains,” Rys said.
Jaime grunted, but the look in his eyes suggested that there might be a need for a later conversation.
There was, after all, only one elder here. Jaime seemed to be an honest one, but that left open underlying issues within the dains.
“What are we dealing with?” Rys asked, turning to Alsia and Grigor.
They laid out the numbers. They were bad.
Nearly 1500 enemy soldiers, including fifty enemy mages and a full company of mage-knights.
“We have the fortress, and they brought less than a ten-to-one advantage,” Grigor said. “But we lack the magical capability to counter any tricks they might try.”
“And if we sortie, they’ll make us pay for it,” Rys said. “Our only advantage is that they can’t exactly just walk by us. We’d turn half of them into ash, and they know it.”
“Can they encircle us?” Fara asked.
“That would be a mistake,” Rys said. “We have nearly three hundred, and they’re almost all elites, given the Kinadain have experience in the Labyrinth. If they brought 3000 soldiers, it would be a different story. But if they encircle us with their current numbers, we’d simply launch raids and cut their numbers down to size.”
Grigor nodded. “They must use their numerical advantage as a great hammer and strike us with great force. Anything less will end poorly for them. But it means they cannot starve us out.”
“What if they summon infernals? Or undead?” Alsia asked. “The Malus League are infamous for their… forbidden magic.” She grimaced as she realized she was saying that Rys used that same forbidden magic.
“Let them summon infernals. More soldiers for me,” Rys said drily. Grigor chuckled. “As for necromancy, they need material for that. Did they bring wagons full of corpses?”
“If they did, they were very well hidden,” Fara said.
“That was a rhetorical question,” Rys said.
“Then you’ll be delighted to know that they’ve done that before, when they besieged Tarmouth.” Fara grimaced.
Rys blinked. Holy shit. No wonder people hated the Malus League. Even in the Infernal Empire, working with fresh bodies had disturbed people.
“Well, it’s good to know they’re not very good necromancers,” Rys said. “The better ones can work with spirits, often creating summons using the remains of souls in the local astral plane.”
They quickly forged a plan to deal with the Malus League.
The Ashen and Grigor would launch night raids against the enemy encampment, with the assistance of the Malakin. The enemy needed to sleep, but the infernals didn’t. When the League finally came, they’d be weakened and tired from days of raids.
The remaining problem was that Rys was burning power simply by being here. There was no guarantee that the League would attack any time soon, but he needed to be close.
Fortunately, there was an easy solution. Fort Foret was next to the mountains. That meant nearby Labyrinth entrances. The Malakin found one, and Rys retreated there. The Kinadain might wonder where he went, but he was a king. Plus, he’d teleported here by himself and had a reputation as some sort of infernal-summoning sorcerer lord. They’d invent some story to explain why they didn’t see him.
Rys passed the time sitting in the entrance of the Labyrinth and testing what memories he could and couldn’t remember. It proved fruitless, as he simply couldn’t trigger the mental block unless something external made him think of a related topic. Or if he already knew he had forgotten something.
Only two days pass before Taras appeared in the cave entrance. “Lord Talarys, the enemy army has begun to move.”
“Thank you, Taras. Let Alsia know I’ll be there shortly,” Rys said, intentionally using the Malakin leader’s name.
The two men stared at each other for several long seconds.
Then Taras vanished without saying or doing anything.
Rys waited. And waited.
Nothing.
How disappointing.
Rys prepared himself to leave the Labyrinth again. Then he stepped over the boundary and prepared to teleport away. The drain on the castle’s power began.
Right before he cast the teleportation spell, he saw something on the ground.
A small slip of paper.
He picked it up.
In neat handwritten letters, using the local language, the word, “Tarasu,” was spelled out.
Rys stared at it. He balled the paper up.
“That’s not your name. It’s not even written in your language,” he whispered to himself.
Shaking his head, Rys teleported to Fort Foret. He had a kingdom to defend. His kingdom.