“Hazhir reports attacking the New Destiny fleet,” Shar said, looking up from the signal he’d been handed. “They got both remaining carriers.”
“That’s confirmed?” Edmund asked.
“Confirmed,” Shar assured him.
“Casualties from Hazhir?” Edmund asked.
“Essentially zero,” the admiral said. “They had two wyverns injured and a rider. Other than that nothing. They’re prepared to continue operations against the fleet and requesting orders.”
“Damn it’s nice having capable subordinates,” Edmund said, shaking his head. “Forget the rest of the fleet; there’s nothing there worth fighting for. Break off the attack. Signal the dreadnoughts and the fleet to assemble and turn for Balmoran. We’re not done yet.”
“General Magalong?” Bue said, saluting the officer behind the desk. “New Destiny landing fleet approaching from the south. Just sighted southwest of the point.”
“Very well,” the general said. Cierra Magalong was a political appointee but he’d been through the Blood Lord training, even at his age, and had attended the abbreviated Raven’s Mill War College. He was as prepared as almost anyone for the war that was coming. But he had very limited actual combat experience and nobody, not even Talbot to his knowledge, had any experience on war of this level.
Second Legion had six thousand legionnaires and just under three thousand supplementary combat forces, engineers, provosts and the like. In addition there were four thousand support personnel with basic training as spear holders but essentially useless in a fight. And he had twice the normal perimeter to protect.
He had been given the mission of holding the core of Balmoran, primarily to protect the nascent metal- and woodworking industries for which the town was famous. To do this he had assembled a slightly enlarged camp around the most important foundries and emptied the dockside godowns into it. If he could hold out, and he had more than enough supplies to do so, he’d eventually be relieved. In the meantime, New Destiny was going to find the Second Legion a remarkable pain in its rear area.
“Send the order to fire the docks,” Magalong said to one of the runners stationed in the office. “Pull back the outposts and tell the Naval base to evacuate.”
“I spoke to the surgeon at the base yesterday, sir,” Bue said. “She was reluctant to evacuate the remaining wounded because she feared they’d die if they were moved.”
“Well, tell her to fish or cut bait,” Magalong snarled. “And get her ass into the camp.”
“Captain Cicali, I really don’t care what you think,” Conner said, smiling thinly. “My mission has priority over your ship. Get it in there.”
The small fleet of fast schooners had swung wide to the west of the New Destiny fleet and was now approaching the Balmoran peninsula well to the north of the town. So far, it appeared to have remained unobserved. Or, if it was observed, it had probably been dismissed as a reconnaissance mission.
“I understand, Mr. Conner,” the captain said, unhappily. “But you’ve got to understand. There are shoals up here. If we go tearing in at max speed, it’s not just going to ground my ship. It’s liable to sink us. And you and your… people.” The captain glanced at the hulking monster behind Conner and gulped. “Then your mission will have failed anyway.”
“Get us in as fast as possible,” Conner said, after a moment’s thought. “And as close to the south end of the base as possible. If you can’t make it through the shoals, we’ll go to the boats. Just do it.”
“Yes, sir,” the captain said, one ear on the leadsman. “I need to reduce speed, though. Slightly.”
“Whatever,” Conner said, watching the distant shore. “As long as you get us to the base before it evacuates.”
“Miss!” Keith yelled from the lobby. “Dr. Ghorbani!”
“Here, Keith,” Rachel said, emerging from the last occupied ward. “What?”
“There are ships coming, Miss!” Keith said, grabbing her arm. “We’ve got to go!”
“We’ve got wounded to move,” Rachel said, dragging her arm away.
“No time!” the orderly said, desperately. “They’re at the wharves! They didn’t fire them in time. They’re coming now.”
“Here?” Rachel said, angrily. “Why here? They were supposed to attack the town.”
“They’re here, miss,” Keith said, pulling at her again. “Come on. We have to go.”
Faintly, but not far away, Rachel heard the banging of metal. It sounded like a small smithy but she recognized the sound having heard it before. Then there was a scream, not far away at all.
“Go hitch up the carts, Keith,” she said, her mouth dry. “We’ll…”
“I don’t think we have time, Miss,” Keith argued, shaking his head.
“Do what I say!” Rachel snapped as the door to the clinic opened.
The man who walked through the door was tall, with fair hair, wearing a gray robe that was embroidered with silver. On the hem of the robe were symbols Rachel didn’t recognize. The robe had a few spots on it, dark black in the light from the windows. But Rachel had no question what the spots were from. If she had any question, the monstrous, blood-covered thing that followed the man into the lobby answered them.
It was at least two meters tall and broad in proportion, with a face that was both bestial and, in a horrible way, beautiful. It had protruding canine fangs that interlocked from top and bottom, black lanky hair and mad, red eyes. But the face itself, the high cheekbones and forehead, the aquiline nose, struck a cord with her and she found herself searching it in horror.
“Elf?” she whispered.
“One of my mistress’s toys,” the man said, walking up to her with his hands folded behind his back. “Just one of her things. As, I suppose, am I,” he concluded, looming over her. Rachel found herself mesmerized by his gray eyes.
“Dr. Rachel Ghorbani, I presume?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Rachel asked.
“Looking for you, of course,” the man said, smiling. “There are some people who think you might be useful. We’ll have to see, won’t we?”
Rachel looked around but there was clearly no escape.
“The hell…” she muttered just as there was a yowl from the landing. She turned around and raised a hand as Azure strutted forward, tail raised and bristling. She had seen the cat come home with full-grown bob-cats in its jaws, but the group of orcs and especially the elf would mean the death of a pet she had had since childhood. “No!”
The orcs had all drawn their swords and were looking at the puma-sized house cat nervously. The elf-thing slowly drew its own sword and pointed the tip at the hissing cat.
“Graaa,” the thing snarled, crouching and following the moves of the cat with focused intensity.
Azure was crouched, tail lashing, ready to spring, but the cat’s eyes were locked on the elf’s as if it knew that the thing was the only real threat. Azure’s rear paws scratched at the floor, searching for purchase, and his tail thrashed again. He shifted his hindquarters, then turned his head to the side with a yowl.
“Sraaa,” the elf replied, the tip of his sword swinging back and forth lightly.