“Then I will do so immediately,” declared Veritago as he rose and turned to leave the room.
“You are going yourself?” Xavo said with shock. “I cannot imagine that you would not send someone else. Who will be in charge of Meliban while you are away?”
“Away?” questioned Veritago. “What do you mean away?”
“Well,” Xavo shook his head in confusion, “I just explained why you must not use an air tunnel over such a great distance. Word of our arrival must be sent to Vand the old-fashioned way. Someone will have to go to Vandegar. I did not think that you would actually go yourself.”
“Travel to Vandegar?” balked the mage. “You can’t be serious? Do you know how far that is?”
“I have been there,” smiled Xavo. “It is an impressive temple, much larger than the one in Vandamar.”
“You have been to Vandegar?” Veritago asked with suspicion. He knew that Xavo had not been to the mainland since the invasion began. “Before the invasion?”
“Quite a bit before the invasion,” nodded Xavo. “You seem surprised. Did you think that one became a disciple of Vand merely for being a good mage? I have served Vand in many ways, most of which you will never hear about.”
“I was unaware,” replied Veritago with genuine awe. Only spies and assassins had been allowed to leave the Island of Darkness before the invasion. The mage suddenly had a newfound level of respect for Xavo. The revelation lent great credibility to Xavo’s knowledge and words.
“I suggest that you send a man of lesser importance than yourself,” smiled Xavo, feeling that he had finally set the hook. “Or you could just let Lady Mystic and me deliver the news. We are heading for Vandegar in the morning.”
“You are going to Vandegar?” inquired Veritago. “The trip is not safe. Cardijja lost fifty thousand men getting the emperor to Vandegar, and I cannot afford to offer you troops. Our soldiers are needed to guard the caravans going to Premer Cardijja.”
“We will not need troops to escort us,” Xavo waved off the suggestion. “It is important that the emperor get news of this air tunnel danger. Somebody must deliver the word, and it is important enough that I feel a personal need to do it.”
“And what should I do when Vandegar contacts me?” frowned Veritago. “They do so on a daily basis.”
“Do not answer the calls,” warned Xavo as he stepped from the tub and began drying himself. “While they may get angry with you right now, I will explain the situation when I arrive in Vandegar. The danger of someone in Vandegar falling under an elven compulsion spell is too severe to be taken lightly.”
* * *
Xavo and Lady Mystic rode out of Meliban early in the morning. They did not speak until they were well away from the city.
“It has been a long time since I rode,” commented Lady Mystic, “and even that was just for sport. How far is Vandegar?”
“It doesn’t matter,” shrugged Xavo, “we are not going there. For either of us to show our faces at Vandegar would be suicide right now.”
“Then what are we doing in Fakara?” scowled Lady Mystic. “I would have preferred to stay on the island over this despicable wasteland.”
“We will go to Vandegar eventually,” soothed Xavo, “but we cannot just yet. Vand must be desperate for allies before we attempt to show our faces there. In the meantime, we will do our best to make him desperate.”
“And how do we do that?” asked Lady Mystic. “By stealing two of his precious horses?”
“I didn’t steal them,” grinned Xavo. “Veritago freely offered them. I think he was relieved that we had offered to go to Vandegar so that he didn’t have to sacrifice any of his men.”
“I am sure,” chuckled Lady Mystic. “And just what did you tell him last night? His attitude changed dramatically.”
“That is not important,” shrugged Xavo. “What is important is the level of supplies present in Meliban. I thought there would be much less than what I saw walking around the city last night. Cardijja has been wise in loading up on supplies and not depending on regular shipments from Duran.”
“Yet he had sent ships to Duran for more supplies,” Lady Mystic pointed out. “Why if he was not in need of them?”
“Need is relative,” replied Xavo. “When you have three major armies drawing on the same supply depot, a wise man anticipates shortages. I think Cardijja complained about shortages in order to build his own supply depot in Meliban. We must do something about that.”
“You want the two of us to attack Meliban?” frowned Lady Mystic. “Inconceivable. In addition to ten thousand soldiers, there were more than a hundred mages there. Do not get cocky, Xavo. We are mortal.”
“Very mortal,” nodded Xavo. “I do not plan to take on the whole Motangan army, but I did find out the route that the caravans use. If we can attack them before they reach Cardijja’s men, we can accomplish something useful while we wait for the right opportunity to go to Vandegar.”
“It would be nice if we could get the tribes to attack Meliban,” mused Lady Mystic. “Do you know how to contact the Fakarans?”
“No,” Xavo shook his head, “but I can contact Emperor Marak. He will know how to reach the Fakarans. I doubt that they know of the amount of supplies in Meliban. If they did, they would have destroyed the city already.”
“Let’s get further away before we do that,” suggested Lady Mystic. “The Fakarans are just as likely to kill us as anyone else. I doubt they would even give us time to talk our way out of an attack.”
“You are more right than you know,” sighed Xavo. “To the tribes, we are just another couple of black cloaks. Perhaps we should find something else to wear. I could pass myself off as a trader and you as my wife.”
“Now that sounds interesting,” grinned Lady Mystic.
* * *
“All of the bridges over the rivers have been destroyed,” reported General Chen. “Our position is untenable. The Khadorans have hundreds of siege engines pounding our armies from across the Khadora River. We have to pull back until we can determine a way across the river.”
“It takes time to build siege engines,” scowled Premer Shamal. “We have been ordered to make haste to Khadoratung. Get the mages to come up with a way to get us across.”
“We have only a handful of mages left,” General Chen shook his head. “The battle at the third trench took a terrible toll on them.”
“It was necessary,” shrugged Shamal, “just as it is necessary to cross this river. Emperor Vand has lost his patience. He wants Khadora conquered quickly so our armies can cross the Fortung Mountains and search for Angragar.”
“The emperor cannot always get what he wants,” the general replied softly. “If we move too quickly, our losses will be great.”
“And you think the emperor cares?” Shamal asked with raised eyebrows. “His armies are merely tools to acquire his personal goals. You must be aware of that.”
“I am,” nodded General Chen, “but I also wish to cling to life. If that means that the men must be sacrificed, I can play that game.”
“As can I,” agreed Premer Shamal, “but those same men are what protects us from the Khadorans. I will not throw my armies away needlessly to meet some arbitrary goal. So far our losses have been acceptable, but we are close to crossing that line. How do we cross the river quickly and still have an army when we are done?”
“There are only two ways,” answered General Chen. “We can backtrack along the river to find a ford, or we can build siege engines and obliterate the city of Sintula. Both options slow us down.”
Premer Shamal said nothing, but he began pacing. General Chen had known the premer long enough to understand that the pacing meant that Shamal was not happy with the alternatives. He held his tongue and let his superior pace in silence.
“There is a third solution,” Premer Shamal finally said, his eyes twinkling with victory over the mental exercise. “Send out patrols upstream along the Khadora River. They are to be covert inspections. I do not want the enemy to realize that our interest in the river is more than cursory.”