"Never fear, Your Highness, Fari said, drawing his casting case from his sleeve. I ordered special bones made up for this historic moment. That human we used for the last divining session proved so lucky I kept back the knuckles of his dexter hand when we disposed of his corpse."
Fari motioned and two slaves crawled over to unroll a small carpet at his feet. The carpet was night black, with the Star Houses picked out in silver.
He took an ivory cup from his casting case and a small drawstring bag made of silk. He untied the string and upended the sack. The knuckle bones made a dry rattling sound as they fell into the cup. He shook the cup and it was like the buzz of a desert viper as the bones swirled about.
And Fari intoned:
"Unloosen thy secrets, let us behold What tale the Gods will tell of us When these blessed events unfold."
He cast the bones on the carpet. King, prince and wizard leaned over to study the result.
"What's this? Manacia said, delight in his eyes. They've fallen in a pattern across the Demon Moon. He looked up at the wizard. I believe the Demon Moon is due to rise soon, isn't it, Fari?"
"Indeed it is, Your Highness, Fari said, bobbing his head. The Star Gazers tell us it appears but once every thousand years. And they predict that cycle is about to repeat itself.
"This casting brings us good news, Your Highness, as you can see for yourself."
He pointed a talon. And look here, one knuckle has fallen on a comet. The Demon Moon and the Comet, as Your Highness well knows, is the sign of Alisarrian."
Manacia slapped his thigh in delight. The Conqueror, himself! he exclaimed. Except this time it'll be a demon, not a devil human, who does the conquering!"
Fari gave a mental sigh of relief. He would have lied, if he'd dared, to make this casting come out as the king wanted. But Manacia was the most powerful wizard in the demonlands. He could read a casting as well, if not better, than any of his royal wizards. Such things bored him, however, and he left it up to his magical minions to study bones and entrails for some signpost of the future.
Overcome by emotion, Manacia rose and threw his arms around the Crown Prince. The gods are with us, my son, he said, embracing Luka. Let their will guide you on this holy mission."
Luka returned the embrace awkwardly, wishing mightily for a dagger to plunge into his father's back.
"I will do my best, Majesty, he said.
Manacia drew back. Mount up, my son, he commanded, and I will give the signal."
Luka bowed low, then strode over to his steed, a huge mailed beast with a long graceful neck, glistening fangs and polished claws. As the prince tried to mount, the beast took a swipe at him with one of those claws. Without breaking stride the prince dodged the claw and vaulted into the saddle, raking the beast with his spurs so hard he drew blood.
The beast shrieked and reared back, pawing the air.
"Good show! Manacia shouted to his son. Nothing like a spirited mount to carry one to victory."
Luka was struggling to keep his seat, but he covered this indignity by again raking the beast with his spurs.
"To victory! he cried, drawing his sword and waving it in the air.
His warriors echoed the cry, roaring in unison. TO VICTORY!"
Luka pressed the sword against his mount's neck, his next words covered by shouts pouring from ten thousand demon throats. Get your claws on the ground, you louse-bitten piece of slime, he said, or I'll cut your throat."
The beast understood and dropped back to earth as agilely as a house cat.
Luka booted his mount to the command point in front of his demon force.
Again he shouted, To victory!"
"TO VICTORY! they roared, drawing their own swords and waving them madly in the air.
"The prince is going too far, Manacia complained to Fari under his breath. This is my moment, not his."
Fari shook his head, hiding his pleasure at this criticism of his enemy. Just high spirits, I'm sure, Your Highness, he said. I'm certain it wasn't intended."
"Maybe so, maybe so, Manacia grumbled. But we'd better hurry it up just the same."
Fari signaled and demon slaves jabbed at the king's great white elephant. It lumbered forward, grand howdah lurching back and forth. More jabs brought it to its knees and the king was hoisted up, panting a little and wondering if perhaps he was letting himself become too fat.
Never mind that, he thought as took his place in the howdah. You'll be slim enough when this campaign is over.
He signaled. Trumpets blared, drums rolled and the whole army came to attention with a great rattling of armor and weapons. A slight pause followed, just a bit longer than good drama warranted.
"For the gods sake, Fari, Manacia shouted down from the elephant, cast the damned spell!"
Fari broke out of a delightful reverie in which Manacia and Luka were shrieking and turning on a spit over a slow fire.
"Immediately, Your Highness, he called back.
He threw a glass globe to the ground. It shattered, spilling a thick yellow liquid across the stone. The liquid began to bubble, then to smoke. A sulfurous cloud boiled up, rising high into the sky.
Then the cloud took on the shape of a gigantic King Manacia. Huge lips parted, baring fangs of tremendous length.
"ONWARD, MY FIENDS, ONWARD! roared the gigantic Manacia. FOR THE GODS AND THE KING!"
"FOR THE GODS AND THE KING! a half a million voices shouted in reply.
The whole army lurched forward, shattering the air with war cries.
The elephant handlers had to give the king's animal several sharp jabs to get it moving fast enough so Manacia wasn't overrun. But in a few minutes all clumsiness was gone and the massive army clattered out onto the Forbidden Desert, an immense juggernaut aimed at the humanlands.
Far out in front Luka and his ten thousand elite were speeding over the badlands, battle cries ululating through the thin air. Within moments they'd reached the high dunes that marked the horizon's edge.
Then they vanished from view.
Despite his inner feelings, Luka was an able commander. Although he drove his fiends hard, he drove himself even harder and it wasn't long before the ten thousand thundered out of the Forbidden Desert and entered the humanlands.
All were weary from the mad dash, but Luka gave them no time for respite. He quickly found a likely campsite for his father's army. It was nestled among gentle hills and centered at what had once been Badawi's farm. There was nothing remaining of that farm, thanks to Sarn and his bandit horde, except a few charred timbers and a half-a-dozen caved-in roasting pits where Badawi's family and livestock had been cooked and eaten.
Luka sent out patrols to scout the region, but other than a few ragged families huddled in homes made of sun dried mud bricks, there were no human groups of any significance to be found. Partly this was because few dared to settle so close to the Forbidden Desert. Mostly it was because Sarn had gone about his duties enthusiastically, wiping out any of the small settlements he'd found. Luka didn't know this and so he concluded it was superstition alone that had done the work.
Several weeks passed and there was still no sign of Manacia and the main army. Luka pressed a few trusted human slaves into service, sending them deeper into the humanlands to spy out and map the region. Before they'd left he'd promised them rich rewards for success and reminded them he had their families back in Zanzair as hostages if they betrayed him.
"I'll flay every babe you call your own, he warned. I'll rip off the limbs of your women and stake out their still-living bodies on ant mounds."
They took his words to heart and by the time the first elements of Manacia's gigantic army hove into view, Luka had maps and detailed intelligence covering hundreds of square miles.