Through my storied military career, I’d developed a low opinion of diplomats, politicians and reporters. They were inevitably either gigantic assholes, naive and ineffectual idealists, or utterly infuriating.

  Wrapping up the boring small talk, logistical concerns and a brief cultural discussion led us inevitably to our next task. As the King had attested, our mortars had made a sizable dent in the numbers that had actually made it to the city, and we’d been directly responsible for ensuring the safety of a number of civilian merchants. That gave me and my brothers-in-arms a certain amount of political capital which I intended to spend shamelessly before it was forgotten about.

  At that moment, though, I wasn’t thinking of asking for a small island to build our very own Paris Island, but instead trying to restrain myself from ordering Larsen to throttle the idiot in front of me.

  "It's not an attempt to curry favour." I snapped, glaring at the prissy diplomat who stood next to the King at the foot my hospital bed. "I'm trying to prevent a war, damn it."

  "And why would you do that? You're just as likely to get us into a bloody feud. For refugees you seem eager to volunteer to assist us with a lot of sensitive internal matters."

  "I don't know, dipshit, why would I do that? We’re stuck here and we need your help. You *also* need our help and we’ve agreed to work together. That’s how a deal works." I’d long since lost control of my tongue and now I was saying whatever I damned well felt like saying. It wasn’t very wise or officer-like of me, which was in retrospect probably one of the reasons I’d been kicked back down the ladder to Corporal.

  The King of Ebonwreath, who I’d learned was actually 'His Royal Highness Marden Valebrook' broke in with a placating voice and a few words.

  Marden seemed genuinely aggrieved, like this kind of behaviour from his chief of diplomacy wasn’t normal. It wasn’t unheard of for conflict to happen at such high levels, but what appeared to be violent bigotry? That was concerning to me, not least because it meant we might face treatment along similar lines out in the rest of the world or within the government somewhere.

  "Please, Avarius, they are only trying to help. They aren't harmless refugees with nothing to offer and you would do well to remember that they are now our allies. They have already bled for us. Isn't that enough to gain your trust?"

  "Trust? It has not even been a *single year* yet. I reserve trust for those that have earned it." His words were haughty, dismissive, derisive. He turned to the Marden. “All they have proven is that they are useful, but ignorant." He muttered his last words softly, but the King, it seemed, had keen ears and I had my implants. We both sent our respective looks at him, mine baleful, the King's reproachful. Avarius wasn’t without a point, but he was being a massive dick about it.

  “Some diplomat.” Larsen scoffed. “What is he even here for?”

  “Our nation has no need for the likes of you, ungifted scum.” He sneered at her, cutting off the King’s chance to answer.

  “ENOUGH!” Marden whirled on the slender diplomat next to him, arm tensing and raising, as if battling himself not to strike the impudent man. “Leave us and take your foolishness with you.”

  “But Majesty, surely you can see—“

  The monarch’s voice grew sterner and he all but growled at the man. “I have taken note of your objections. I warned you to keep your opinions to yourself. You chose not to listen. Begone from my sight before I do something rash!”

  The tension between the two men snapped and the junior of the two men begrudgingly nodded. After the diplomat in question bowed to Marden and shot Larsen and I dirty looks, he left without a word. Marden’s three guards, posted up at the corners of the room closest to the door visibly relaxed.

  Marden grimaced, more than a little embarrassed at what was clearly an old and shameful private conflict if I judged things correctly.

  “I apologise. I brought Avarius here to keep him informed and because he requested it of me. I have known for some time that he has problematic attitudes that make him undesirable to be around, but I gave him due warning I would not tolerate his usual foolishness. You have my word this will not happen again.”

  “Yeah, undesirable, that’s an understatement.” Larsen glared at the doorway, where the man’s passing was still fresh in my mind. “I don’t know what we did but at least he’s no one particularly important.”

  “I will speak with him later.” The Royal’s grimace returned briefly before swiftly being overtaken by an affable smile as he brightened. No doubt a deliberate attempt to smooth over a diplomatic fuck-up. Fortunately, I’d heard worse than ‘ungifted scum’ over breakfast a thousand times before.

  “For now, shall we discuss business?” He continued.

  “Of what kind?” I asked.

  “May I interest you in more work? You worked miracles and while its true you did not prevent the attack on the city, I didn’t really expect you to succeed. You did scatter the cult to the winds however, and you saved a number of lives. The cult is still out there and normally I would ask you if you were willing to return to hunting them, but the more pressing matter of mythology come to life is what I had in mind. I want you to find and eradicate these creatures. I even have a plan for how, though admittedly I’m not sure it is an easy one.”

  “That sounds like a challenge, and I suppose we can’t just sit on the sidelines and take advantage of your hospitality.”

  “You’re willing to help us then?”

  “I suppose we are, provided we continue to be paid in resources, manpower and land.” I smiled.

  “Any land?”

  “Any land.” I confirmed.

  “There is a heavily wooded area directly north of here, along the coast, perhaps two or three days by horse. We haven’t the time or manpower to clear the forest there and it was already plagued with a host of loathsome creatures before these beasts fell upon the city. Would you be willing to take that land in exchange for your services?”

  Larsen smirked. “Really giving us the best you can offer, aren’t you?”

  “I meant no offense! But… you did say ‘any land’ and much of the city’s surroundings are already claimed by my nobles and their serfs. Believe me, nothing would give me greater joy than to strip their lands, but I cannot. It would end in revolt, and those that work the lands would be without protection or the patronage they have enjoyed.”

  Larsen looked over at me, and I looked at the King.

  “Sounds like an issue we might be able to address, but another day, I think. One problem at a time.”

  “Quite right. About the location?”

  I thought about it. A forest wasn’t a terrible place to build, but it would require clearing. The wood would probably be of some use. If not directly, then at least as a trade good. My only real concern was that it would present a danger during the construction efforts and it would take too long due to the distance.

  “I think that’ll be a fine place for us to conduct our business, but I need to know exactly how dangerous that place is and how much resistance we might face when building a permanent base of operations there. I also need to know how fast you can transport materials there. We may need some assistance in getting ourselves settled in.”

  “I believe we’ll be able to accommodate you and supply you with the transport and labour you require.”

  “What about the danger?”

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “It isn’t any more dangerous than the open plains, I should think, but I’ll have my archivist give you a copy of the relevant documents, what few we might have on the area. Ah, I’m afraid we will have to spend some time transcribing them into a form you can read. I take it you wouldn’t be willing to wait for a mage to decipher the information for you?”

  A light went on in my head. They probably kept that information in those weird magic knowledge boxes. It figured that only mages could read them. Whether intentional or not, it was a very easy way to make non-mages second-class citizens and restrict their access to new knowledge.

  I could see the obvious liberation staring me in the face. It was unavoidable that we would affect the balance of power here, but I wasn’t willing to face it just yet. I wanted options before I made any decisions or bothered anyone besides myself with that particular headache.

  “No, no mage. We need something we can read immediately, if only so we can store the information ourselves. An accounting of the information isn’t enough, and truth be told, we will probably need to convert over more of your documents in future so you best find an efficient way to do it.”

  “Very well. I’ll have a page deliver the land deed personally by tomorrow. The conversion of the documents and maps you require might take a few days more, however. As for my request?

  “That’ll be fine. As for your request, well,” I thought on it for a few moments. “I’m going to need numbers, locations and anything else you have on these things. A name would be good, too. I’d like to hear more about that mythology and of course, your plan, however basic.”

  “A name is one of the few things I can give you with any great degree of certainty. They are called the Vitaru. We have no specifics on just how many there are, or were, but reports indicate at least a thousand throughout the nation right now, likely far more are scattered across it. Records and myth indicate many tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands will come forth, as they did in the old days. This is all unproven, you understand?”

  Larsen whistled in appreciation.

  I, meanwhile, lay there momentarily stunned. “Tens of thousands? We can’t deal with that yet. If those numbers are accurate, you’re asking us to fight a major war, not a simple skirmish. We’d need at least a parity of numbers, preferably a three-to-one advantage though. Can you get me thirty-thousand men of fighting age willing to fight for your people?”

  “Possibly, but I think you underestimate the Vitaru. Their strength is their numbers. You cannot hope to outnumber them.”

  I hesitated, mulling that over for a minute. “Well, that’s just great.” I said, when I couldn’t come up with anything else to say.

  “Precisely.” The King smiled wryly. “I do not know how many there are at present but we believe the attack on this city was accomplished with no more than six-hundred.”

  That sounded about right, though my suit had only tallied a confirmed one-hundred and sixty-five, with about two and a half times that in probables. The actual number was probably quite a bit higher.

  “Where do they come from? They have to born, or made somehow. Do you know?” Larsen asked.

  The King shook his head. “The stories say they had large hives both underground and on the surface from which they were spawned. We have never found any evidence of these hives, but we have found skeletal remains similar to the creatures slain during the Battle of Tooth and Claw.”

  “The Battle of Tooth and Claw?” Larsen asked.

  “The name the citizens have given to the recent battle.”

  Larsen nodded her comprehension and the King continued. “Everywhere from here to the western edge of the Empire, people have dug up bones and bits of strange creatures matching the stories. To put it simply, we don’t know how they’re made. I assume they’re born like any other animal.” He shrugged helplessly.

  “Well, at least we know they were widespread. That speaks to a level of adaptation to the environment we didn’t know they had. I don’t suppose they have a preferred habitat?”

  “Not that we know of, no.” Marden replied apologetically. “I was hoping you might have better luck than we’ve had, but you’ve only been here a few days so I don’t expect you to have found anything yet. If fortune is on your side, you’ll discover something we can use in your travels.”

  “These hives, what are they like?” I asked. I was imagining a beehive with a beetle-like exterior.

  “They’re said to be large dome-shaped structures from which all manner of creatures were spawned. Covered in a bony material and dark in colour with a fleshy outer covering. Similar in shape to a volcano, in some ways.”

  “Are they intelligent? Can they defend themselves, or do they leave that to these smaller creatures, these hounds?”

  “Hounds? We don’t think so, even though those beasts slaughtered in our streets were tough enough to turn back steel and they were unusually intelligent with some of their tactics, I know of no example where their birthing chambers exhibited any intelligence. To be sure, I would check with the Royal Archivist, Tomlinson. He will certainly be more knowledgeable than I.”

  “Yeah. They were bright for dumb animals.” I murmured, thinking of how I’d seen some of them try to leapfrog over others to make it up the high walls.

  “How did they come about? They’re not technological, but they aren’t natural. They seem almost like a bio-weapon.”

  “Bio… weapon?” The King mouthed the unfamiliar words.

  “Living weapon. A designed disease, or sickness, usually, but I was thinking a designed species in this case.”

  “That is an interesting idea, but neither our ancient accounts or present experts have any definitive answers for you. There are conflicting tales. Some say they sprouted from dark seeds dropped from the heavens, others that they sprang fully formed from the ground inside a forest after a great fire tore through it. I personally suspect magic had a hand in it, some ancient knowledge-seeker using his gift towards dangerous ends.”

  “Well, where do we start then?”

  “I’ll get to that. I have a plan.”

  “Right.” I nodded. “Well, before we do anything about this, we’re going to need a few of those bodies for study. Twelve or so, should do it.”

  The King laughed. “Take your fill. I very much doubt anyone will complain. I personally will not. Ugly things, and after the damage they inflicted we would consider it a service to the city. What, may I ask, are you planning to do with them?”

  “Weapons testing, and understanding their physical makeup, their bodies’ construction. It was strange, they had some passive capability for stealth and they were completely invisible to our detection methods. We use various processes to detect our enemies, which I’m reluctant to reveal outside of a secure room—“

  “—Prudent.”

  “Let’s just say that the fact they concealed themselves as well as they did was extremely concerning and we’d like to find out how before we go up against them again.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, reports from all the mages involved in the battle say that they were completely dead to their senses, no magic to speak of.”

  My lips twisted into a discontented expression. “The first step to killing your enemy is to know where they are. We’ve become exceptionally good at it. I’ve not seen anything able to fight like that and still be undetectable.”

  “What about sonar?” Larsen asked suddenly.

  “Would’ve been included in the suit’s automatic scans. We’ll test it later, but I’m forced to assume we can only locate them through passive means, which isn’t great.”

  “There’s an ancient writer from the Empire that tells us the reason we’re still here.”

  “I did wonder about that.”

  “You defeated them before, right?”

  “As I said, there is a reason we are still here. At the time of our victory over the Vitaru, we were losing badly. We killed hundreds of thousands but there was no end to them, or so it seemed. Eventually though, we unearthed a weapon that was ancient even at that time. I believe in your measurements it would be… seventeen thousand years old.”

  “A weapon? What kind of weapon?”

  “A blade with a soul trapped inside it.”

  “A what?” I asked, flabbergasted.

  “A *blade* with a soul trapped inside it.” The King repeated.

  “How does that even work?” I lifted my hand to rub my eyes, as if that would somehow solve my fundamental confusion.

  “The brain, heart and lungs are placed over the sword’s length, and blood then submerged in—“

  He paused, looking at the expressions our faces, before stopping. “Perhaps you would rather hear about what it is, rather than how it is made?”

  “That would be nice, yeah.” I said.

  “It is old magic, we know what was done, but not how. Those nearing death, were brought to the very brink and their essence was poured into a suitably prepared vessel, granting them a kind of immortality, and strengthening their gift. They maintain their gift, a kind of telepathy and so far as we know, they are immortal. There is some doubt there, however. We've never actually seen one of these blades, but we do know they once existed. It is my hope you'll be able to travel to the Empire and enact my plan."

  The King, Larsen and I discussed the matter at length for hours. I honestly didn’t think we’d be talking for so long, but by the local clock we’d started at half-past eleven and only finished at ten to five. By that time, I was worn out and enjoying a delicate pastry—a gift from one of the merchants we’d saved—with Larsen. It reminded me a lot of mango, but it was too tangy and sweet for that.

  We spent the remainder of the next three days planning and being briefed on what we might face out there. Recruitment efforts were still lagging behind, owing to the fact we’d just began building facilities for the Ebonwreath’s burgeoning military.

  We also needed to get our own affairs in order. After our efforts in defending the city we received an outpouring of support, which certainly made things easier.

  Inside of a week, we had a sprawling base set up and word had gotten round that we were recruiting. We’d already had to take down a number of names.

  I sat in my spartan office reviewing the intel we’d collected on the Vitaru, as well as the Drakitha Empire. Marden’s plan was bold, but it was workable. To pull it off though, we’d have to train a sizable force. A knock at my door made me smile.

  A mage by the name of Aldreus—an adjutant supplied by the King—stuck his head in the door and I put my tablet down. I wasn’t sure how I felt about having an assistant that was I always preferred reading on a portable screen rather than my helmet’s HUD or implants.

  “Sir, the first batch of recruits are here.”

  “Send the first one in.” I nodded, locking the small device’s screen. A generic screensaver of the Royal Martian Marines replaced the intel document I’d been reviewing. Considering we would be interacting with quasi-royalty in a nation that would undoubtedly deem us as lesser beings, well, we needed all the help we could get. Hopefully some of the recruits would be able to supply me with some much-needed insight on what the Empire was like.