Wartorn Obliteration

DARDAS (3)

The fresh conscripts from Trael were being absorbed into the ranks. Soon, it would be time to get this army moving again. Two targets were within striking distance, the city-states of Grat and Ompellus Prime.

Weisel was standing over a table where a map was spread. He was gazing down intently, brow furrowed as he concentrated.

They are both good choices, he finally said. I'm having difficulty seeing how one might be better than the other to invade next.

Within the Felk nobleman's skull, Dardas stifled a mental sigh.

The capture of Trael was a decisive move. It has, effectively, opened up the entire south portion of this Isthmus.

Weisel nodded. I can see that.

Dardas wondered if Weisel actually did. Then he continued, Grat and Ompellus Prime lie to our west and east, respectively. They are of comparable size and population and could both most likely mount similar resistance to this army.

So, there is no logical choice? Weisel asked.

The man expected war to be a thing of simple logic, Dardas thought darkly. As if it were a puzzle or a riddle that could be unraveled with the application of a formula.

If the choices are equal, Dardas said, then it is wise to consider where either choice will lead. What happens after the conquest of Grat or Ompellus Prime?

Weisel studied the map harder. There was no one else inside the pavilion, and Weisel had given orders not to be disturbed. He apparently wanted this time to absorb a lesson in warfare from Dardas. Dardas, for his part, was complying, though it was taxing his patience.

He could bear it, however. The day couldn't last forever, and when night came, things would be different. Weisel was still evidently blissfully unaware that Dardas was taking full control of this body while the Felk general's consciousness slept at night.

If we take Grat first...

Yes? Dardas prompted.

Then we will face the Rijji Hills to the southwest of the city, Weisel went on, excited now.

And what would that mean? Dardas coaxed him along.

It's dangerous terrain, as far as moving an army through it. There are gullies and rivers, and no easy roads through. Whatever military Grat has could retreat into those hills. It would take a lot of effort to dislodge them.

So...? Dardas said.

"So we take Ompellus Prime," Weisel said, aloud now, "then move south, make a lateral move west, and swing up at Grat so that they have nowhere to retreat to!"

Well done, General Weisel.

Weisel was as happy as a child, and that was fitting, Dardas thought. Even a child could have figured out which city was their next sensible target.

There was more to it than cold appraisal, however, and this was something that Dardas knew he could never teach the Felk noble, even if he had been inclined to try. Weisel had no war instincts. Armies and terrains and weather conditions were fluid things, and one often had to make adjustments in mid-stride, so to speak. There wasn't always time for cool, rational analysis. Sometimes one had to act from the gut, trusting oneself that a particular maneuver was the right one to make.

Two hundred and fifty years ago, Dardas had led his mighty army with instincts he had honed to gleaming sharpness all his life.

Your assistance has been valuable, Weisel now said.

Dardas replied, graciously, You solved the problem on your own, General. I merely helped you to see it.

With your aid, this war will be won.

Then what? But Dardas kept the thought to himself. Once more, Weisel had obviously not thought it through. Dardas knew that he himself would no longer be useful to Lord Matokin once this war was done. Apparently, Weisel was unaware that the same was true of him. Matokin would have no need of Weisel after the Isthmus was fully conquered.

Perhaps the Felk general planned to retire gracefully, ceding his position of power and importance, allowing the bureaucracies of the empire to replace the vigorous animation of the military. Perhaps Weisel was happily anticipating this. If so, he was an even greater fool than Dardas suspected.

A war commander was nothing without a war to sustain his existence.

Dardas had been giving a good deal of thought to his own peculiarly sustained existence. His resurrection was not entirely stable. It needed to be maintained through rejuvenation spells. He had already experienced one close call, when death had come to reclaim what had been taken from it. A mage had come from Felk, through the portals, and had brought Dardas back from the black brink.

But Matokin controlled that mage. Kumbat was his name, the same one who had evidently been responsible for resurrecting Raven inside the delectable body of Vadya.

How much better it would be for Dardas, how much more secure he would feel, if Mage Kumbat were under his control.

Weisel set his aide Fergon to summoning the senior staff, no doubt to unveil his grand plan for the conquest of Ompellus Prime. He would bask in his officers' accolades, feeling for that moment as if he truly was this army's legitimate leader.

Dardas wouldn't spoil his fun. It was best if Weisel was distracted by his "progress" in learning the craft of war. Meanwhile, Dardas had serious plans for tonight.

Raven was obviously expecting another session of torrid lovemaking. Dardas noted her flushed color, the quickness of her breath as her sublimely shaped breasts rose and fell. In her eyes was a lascivious glimmer that she didn't try to hide.

"Raven," Dardas said, "how good of you to join me."

"I serve at your pleasure, General," she said in that throaty purr as she sashayed across the length of the pavilion toward him.

It was very tempting to just seize her and toss her down onto the bed and mount her in that eager violent fashion she seemed to find so agreeable. But there were other matters of import to attend to tonight, and that night, like the day, wouldn't last forever.

When Weisel woke this would be his body again. Dardas didn't have the will or sway to successfully challenge his host full on. Not yet, anyway. Each night, however, Dardas tested his control to its limits. Maybe he could eventually unlock Weisel's command of this body.

Better still, of course, would be to eliminate the Felk nobleman's consciousness altogether. However, Dardas had no idea how or if that could be accomplished.

"We have work to do tonight," Dardas said to Raven.

She halted before him, angling her body just so, to give him a pleasing view of her outline. "What work would that be, General?" she asked in a mock-coy tone that was quite sensuous.

Dardas pushed aside his baser impulses and said, "Work for my chief of Military Security, Raven."

Raven straightened, the wanton light leaving her eyes. "Yes, General Weisel," she said, seriously now.

Dardas nodded. "You fully understand your authority as the head of Military Security, don't you?"

"I... believe so, General."

"You wield a great power, Raven. It supersedes even rank. You are this army's defense against treason."

Raven lifted her elegantly molded chin. "I shall do everything I can to live up to that."

"I know that." Dardas smiled. "But what if you were to receive information that a visiting dignitary, a high-ranking mage under Lord Matokin's command, was in fact a traitor to all of Felk?"

Raven blinked, but her expression didn't waver. "I would first want to know the source of this information," she said evenly.

Dardas nodded. It was a good answer.

He said, "I am the source, Raven."

"Then I would trust your word utterly, sir."

"Good." Dardas had been sitting. He rose now. "I have summoned this mage here. He will be arriving at any moment. He believes he is here on a... medical emergency."

Now a small frown pinched Raven's lips. "Medical?" she asked. "Is someone injured?"

"The mage in question," Dardas said, "is here to administer a rejuvenation spell."

Raven plainly recognized the term. But she looked confused.

"Administer it to whom?" she asked.

"Why"—Dardas blinked—"to you of course, my dear."

She digested that a brief moment, then nodded. "I am the bait then?"

"You are."

"And who is the quarry?"

"I think you may already know the answer to that," Dardas said, quietly and significantly.

Raven drew a long breath, then let it out. "Mage Kumbat..." she murmured.

"Correct."

"The wizard responsible for my resurrection," Raven said, stunned.

"Again, correct."

For a moment, she was lost in thought. Then she gathered herself and looked Dardas steadily in the eye. "What do you wish me to do with him when he arrives, General?"

Dardas smiled appreciatively. This girl was indeed something special. He told her the plan. She nodded as she listened.

Raven saluted. "It will be done, sir."

He returned the salute. "I'm counting on you, Raven."

Kumbat arrived a short while later. He bustled into the tent after being passed through Weisel's personal guard. The wizard's black robe twirled as he looked all about, seeing only the general present. He frowned.

"General Weisel," Kumbat said, "I was told specifically to report to your tent. Where is Raven? The spell must be delivered as soon as possible."

Dardas stood casually, hands clasped easily behind him.

"Why the hurry, Mage Kumbat?" he asked.

Kumbat gaped. "By the sanity of the gods, General, you yourself know what she must be going through. It's a very traumatic experience. The rejuvenation spell will end her fear and discomfort. Now, please, where is she?"

He was a conscientious wizard at least, Dardas noted silently. Matokin himself had received the coded Far Speak communication in Felk and had ordered Kumbat hastily Far Moved here.

"Is it unusual that Raven should require the spell so soon after her resurrection?" Dardas asked, his manner still relaxed.

"Well, yes, I suppose, yes, but—" Kumbat fumbled. "The magic requires a great effort on my part, General. I must prepare and administer it."

"You see, that's interesting," Dardas said, ignoring the urgency of the situation. "I myself know so little about resurrection magic and rejuvenation spells that when you mention any minor aspect about them it's completely fresh news to me. It's very specialized magic, isn't it?"

Kumbat was blinking rapidly, totally off guard.

"It... it is," he said.

"There must be very few practitioners."

Kumbat swallowed, visibly. "There are only three in all the empire."

"And I'll wager you're the best of the lot, else Matokin wouldn't keep you so close at hand. Modesty be damned, Mage Kumbat, am I correct? Are you the best?"

The wizard was starting to look quite pale, contrasting sharply with the color of his robe.

"I... I am the most skilled at this particular form of magic." He did not say it proudly. In fact, he sounded rather regretful at the moment.

Dardas smiled. "I have come to understand that Far Movement magic—another specialized and taxing skill, but one more commonplace than yours—is somewhat dangerous to practice. Not long ago, I had a plan to use those portals as an offensive weapon. It was a rather ingenious application of the magic, but sadly my plan was... vetoed."

Kumbat retreated a step toward the flap of the pavilion. If he tried to flee he would have a short journey. Dardas had given orders to his guards to admit, but not to allow the mage to leave.

"As far as Matokin knows," Dardas said, "you're here tending to Raven. He'll no doubt expect you back in Felk after a plausible amount of time. I will see to it that the proper orders are issued to have you transported there by my Far Movement wizards. Only"—Dardas smiled wider—"you won't be arriving at the other end. Eventually, it will be concluded that you were unfortunately lost in transit. As I said, Far Movement magic is evidently a somewhat dangerous practice."

Now Kumbat did turn to flee, but he didn't even make it to the flap. Raven rose from behind the trunk where she had been concealing herself, and seized the mage. Kumbat recoiled, fear bright in his eyes.

Raven said, "By the authority of Military Security, I hereby place you under arrest, Mage Kumbat. You will be detained here in this camp until such time as it is deemed fit to release you, or until further punitive measures will be taken against you."

Dardas resisted the urge to applaud. Even so, it was a magnificent performance on Raven's part. Here she was, arresting the very man who had brought her back to life. The irony tickled him.

But this wasn't an occasion for levity. He had already made the arrangements with the proper Far Speak and Far Movement wizards under his command to falsify Kumbat's return trip to Felk. Essentially, they would effect a blank delivery through the portals and later claim that they had transported Kumbat. Dardas had handpicked the two wizards, ones that Raven herself had reported as being especially loyal to him.

"But, but, but—" Kumbat sputtered. "What am I charged with?"

Dardas gestured to Raven.

She said, coldly, "Treason."

Then she led Kumbat away to specially prepared quarters. Kumbat was no Far Movement mage. He wouldn't be able to just conjure up a portal and step through and escape.

Alone in the pavilion now, Dardas yawned. The episode had been rather draining and this body had to rest sometime. He lay down on his bed, vaguely disappointed that Raven wasn't joining him. In a short while, Matokin would contact him, demanding to know what had happened to Kumbat. Dardas would express bafflement and then later on regret for the apparent tragedy that had occurred.

Matokin might or might not believe the ruse. Almost certainly, however, he would send someone to investigate. Maybe Abraxis, chief of the Internal Security Corps. The few times Dardas had met Abraxis, he had been struck by the canniness and wiliness of the man.

It would be interesting to see what would happen when the chief of Internal Security met the chief of Military Security, especially since it would be on Raven's ground.

Now Dardas did allow himself a chuckle. He was enjoying himself. As complex and perilous as things had become he was still participating in life. Two and a half centuries after his own death, and he was living his new life to its fullest! It was worth savoring every moment of it.

He was still Dardas the Invincible.

Soon, he would add the city-state of Ompellus Prime to his roster of conquests. After that, Grat would fall. This army would work farther and farther south, swallowing its enemies. But before it reached the southward extremity of the Isthmus, a worthy foe would surely rise to challenge him.

It had to happen. His instincts told him so. Wars were not fought like this, without any notable resistance. The laws of existence wouldn't allow it.

Dardas only hoped he wasn't mistaking his instincts for desperate, irrational hope.

Yes, Dardas the Invincible. He laughed a bit harder. With Kumbat as his captive, and with the mage's rejuvenating powers at his beck and call, invincible was precisely what he was.