“That can be done,” Garth said, relieved as he barked orders to the villagers. He was trying hard to be cooperative, anxious about the armed force that could easily take whatever they wanted anyway.
“And barrels,” Enoch said. “Empty barrels. Six will do.”
“We … we have barrels of wine, if you need that. And kegs of beer, brewed right here in the town.”
“No wine or beer. Just the empty barrels. We need them to contain something else.”
“Of course, of course.” Garth wiped sweat from his brow. His long blue-black locks hung down over his face. “In the name of the spirits, we’ll help you bring freedom to Ildakar.”
Townspeople brought four empty wagons from the stables, and Enoch approved of their sturdy wheels. A mule had been hitched to the front of each one. Other villagers rolled large barrels out into the town square to be loaded into the wagon beds.
All this time Enoch’s soldiers hadn’t so much as stirred, as if they had turned to stone again. They just waited, intimidating by their very presence.
Garth couldn’t stop talking. “There may be other ways we can help. We want to see the walls of Ildakar broken down and the people set free. The slaves are forced to follow the whims of the nobles, but there is great unrest. When I escaped, a man named Mirrormask was rallying the lower classes. He would be a powerful ally to your cause. I could send word into the city, perhaps trigger an uprising?” He smiled. “Ildakar will fall from within, even as your army breaks down the walls. It would be an easy victory.”
“I shall consider the idea,” Enoch said. “Though that is not the way our general defeats an enemy.”
By the time the wagons and the empty barrels were ready, Enoch had enough time to think. The gigantic camp was so squalid because their tents, tools, and supplies had decayed into nothing. He nodded toward the stream. “I see you have a sawmill. We will need much lumber so we can rebuild our command structures. And fabrics—we’ll take your cloth for tents and banners.” He nodded to himself, remembering that all of their colorful battle flags had long vanished.
The townspeople seemed more nervous now, but they couldn’t deny the request. In a thinner voice, Garth called for the supplies to be brought and loaded in the wagons.
“And tools,” Enoch continued. “We have almost nothing. We’ll need mallets, saws, hammers, nails, prybars.”
Finally the town leader balked. “Please, First Commander. That would devastate Stravera.”
“Serving the army of General Utros is not always easy.” He put an edge in his voice. These people would be broken one way or another, whether willingly or by force.
“But our future…” Garth pleaded. “I am merely saying it will be hard, by the spirits.” He scratched his thick hair, sweating profusely.
“Do you have any children?” Enoch asked.
“Children?” Garth seemed surprised by the question. “Why yes, I have two young sons and a daughter, just a baby.”
“Good. Are there many other children in Stravera?”
“Any town has children,” the blacksmith replied, growing more suspicious. “Two infants born just last week. In our school, twenty children are learning their numbers and letters. As slaves, few of us had any education, and we want to make up for that lack.”
“Twenty, that’s good,” Enoch said. “I am especially interested in the babies you mentioned.” Although he didn’t know anything about magic, he suspected that infants might have the most potent blood. “We will need all of them. Bring them forth.”
The people of Stravera gasped, either not understanding, or not believing.
“Your children! Now!” Enoch roared. “Bring all of them. I expect to see twenty and at least three babes.”
Now his hundred soldiers marched forward, closing ranks on either side of their first commander. The townspeople began to wail, some tried to slip away. Two of Enoch’s soldiers grabbed a young woman who attempted to flee. With heavy swords, they cut her down right there, and her bleeding body sprawled in the village square. The townspeople moaned, but when they didn’t move fast enough, Enoch barked, “Kill another one.”
Two soldiers grabbed a skinny, long-haired man who struggled and squirmed. They didn’t bother to use their weapons this time, but simply broke the man, smashing him against their hardened knees and snapping his spine, neck, and arms with a succession of loud cracking noises.
The villagers did as they were commanded, and soon a group of confused children were dragged out of homes amid much weeping and begging. The children varied from toddlers to young teenagers, many of them shivering. Some wore rags, while others dressed in fine clothes likely stolen in their flight from Ildakar.
While he waited, Enoch spotted a paddock used for goats. He had his men turn the goats loose so they could herd the children into the small corral instead. The three babies were placed into the arms of young girls, who also huddled inside the pen.
Garth grew more and more upset when he saw the boys and girls locked inside the fence. “Enough! You can’t take everything.”
“We won’t take everything,” Enoch said, looking at the adults gathered there in dismay. “We don’t need you at all.”
The people of Stravera tried to re-form their desperate defensive line, but Enoch gave orders to his soldiers, and the slaughter began. No matter how determined the townspeople were, they were no match for one hundred well-trained warriors with swords.
After more than twenty villagers had been slain, Garth dropped to his knees, raising his hands and demanding to know why. Enoch left him alive until the other villagers were all dead, and then the first commander beheaded him.
Inside the corral, the children screamed and wept. Some just stood in shock. Ten guards surrounded the paddock to ensure that none of the boys or girls tried to flee.
“Do we need to tie them?” asked one soldier. “They will slow our march if we drag them through the forest back to camp.”
“We don’t need to bring them with us,” Enoch said. He commanded that the six empty barrels be brought into the corral with the trapped children. “We only need their blood. Six barrels should be enough to hold it all.”
The return trip took two days. His men had ransacked Stravera for all the supplies and equipment they could use. They found many valuable and useful items—rope, utensils, nails, knives, nets, leather, and furs. The soldiers emptied Stravera, taking another two wagons to hold it all. They toiled out of the mountains, and when the road dwindled to nothing, they cut away fallen trees to clear a more permanent path back to the valley.
The caravan finally returned to camp at dusk, crossing the tinder-dry hills. The rustling grasses were crushed under the wagon wheels as the beasts of burden plodded along. When First Commander Enoch reported to his general, he stood proud.
Utros and the two painted sorceresses stepped outside to meet him. Ava and Ruva smiled at the sight of the wagon full of stained barrels. The twins touched the wooden staves, looking at the sticky red on their fingertips.
“Now we have exactly what we need,” Ruva said.
CHAPTER 34
In the hours before the surprise attack, the Ildakaran fighters gathered in the lower levels near the supply buildings, storehouses, granaries, and the yaxen slaughter yards. High Captain Stuart brought five hundred of his city guard, all wearing chest armor and carrying short swords. Stuart wore a red pauldron on his shoulder to show his rank, just as his predecessor had done. Hundreds of the earnest arena fighters had no interest in ranks, and there were also countless volunteers from the lower classes who had scrounged up weapons and were ready to join the unexpected strike against the siege army.
From across Ildakar, families pulled swords out of storage, heirlooms that had never seen battle, while others carried new-forged weapons produced by the overworked smithies. Blacksmiths turned out hundreds of iron-headed clubs, hard wooden handles topped with metal spheres and spikes, and the ragtag fighters adopted them quickly. Such blunt, deadly weapons might do better than sharp blades against an enemy with hardened skin, and they required far less training, needing only anger, energy, and an arm to wield them.