The empress of beasts, p.43
The Empress of Beasts, page 43
part #13 of The Wandering Inn Series
“Tiqr’s army has broken north! They pierced the encirclement—they’re headed northwest!”
“To the Kilalle Steppes.”
Femithain nodded to himself. He looked down at Empress Nsiia. Or perhaps—simply Nsiia of Tiqr. She was a prisoner of war, now. She still knelt, but he caught her looking up, listening.
“Dellic. Have Nerrhavia’s forces any chance of catching Tiqr’s army? How many have left?”
The [Armsmaster] shook his head.
“The officers are saying it’s the entire army. And they came right out of the gates as soon as the Empress—”
He halted, staring at Nsiia. Femithain adjusted his spectacles.
“Clever.”
He had to admire it. Nsiia’s surrender had given her army time to flee. They were still nearly eighty-thousand strong, and if some of Tiqr’s citizens had gone with them—he eyed the sea of people spread out in front of Tiqr’s gates. Even had a hundred thousand fled, they would pose an insurmountable threat.
“You sent them to the Kilalle Steppes, Empress Nsiia?”
He addressed the kneeling woman. Nsiia looked up. Her eyes flashed as Dellic warily stood beside Femithain.
“My General, Vasraf, I gave him leave to do as he wished. I do not know what he plans.”
So you couldn’t be forced to betray him. Femithain’s estimation of Nsiia rose again. And it had already been high. She had calculated this. Her show before surrendering had bought her army time to flee. Thelican had pulled back his forces to protect himself; and Nsiia had chosen to surrender via the south gate, making the chase even harder.
However, that was only a small concern to Femithain at the moment. He stood, conscious of the coalition’s army reforming, centering on him. Because Tiqr had surrendered to Illivere. Not to the coalition. In the realm of politics, that was a very important distinction.
“Empress Nsiia. What do you hope to gain from your surrender?”
“Nothing. Tiqr is no more. I am no more an [Empress].”
The woman looked up at Femithain. And he realized she was young. A full decade and a half behind him, at least. Now, bereft of her rank and artifacts, she looked tired. And afraid. Femithain paused.
“You surrendered to Illivere. What if I had fled?”
“I would have surrendered to Deimos. Or Nerrhavia. Never to Savere. Do what you will, Magus-Crafter. We are your prisoners.”
The Magus-Crafter nodded slowly. Nsiia was looking at him. And he knew she remembered the warning he had tried to give her at Pomle. He leaned on his staff. Thelican would be coming. And Illivere, for all its strength, was one nation among many. Savere was powerful. And Nerrhavia overwhelming.
Still. He looked at Nsiia.
“You chose me, though. Why?”
Nsiia shrugged. She was looking at Dellic. The [Armsmaster] was watching her, balanced on his heels, ready to unsheathe his sword and strike.
“You tried to warn me. And Illivere has few slaves. I…hoped you would give Tiqr some dignity.”
“That is difficult.”
Nsiia nodded. She looked up. There were no illusions in her eyes. Her nation was defeated. And the defeated were treated harshly. In Chandrar, very harshly. Femithain looked at her. And then he nodded.
“You made a choice, Empress of Beasts. The King of Destruction gave you no death. But your surrender will see your nation picked apart. And your fate is also in my hands, it seems. So know this: you chose well.”
She looked up. Femithain smiled. Then he turned. The Magus-Crafter thought of himself as a poor fighter. A mediocre [Mage]; he was a far better [Crafter], a creator of Golems. But he was also Magus-Crafter of Illivere. And he had to admit—he was somewhat good at his job.
“Armsmaster Dellic.”
“Magus-Crafter!”
The man vibrated to attention. Femithain nodded to Nsiia.
“Arrest the Empress of Beasts. Take her headband and the spear; I wish her guarded by Stone Golems and eight [Artificers] as well as sixty of your best.”
“At once, Magus-Crafter!”
Dellic hesitated only for a moment before stooping to snatch the spear and headband up. Nsiia rose to her feet; he backed away a step. She held her hands up and to her sides.
“I have surrendered. Do what you will.”
She was looking at Femithain. Dellic barked an order.
“Stone Golems! [Artificers] of Stone, to me! Cetith Squadron, to me!”
Startled, Illivere’s army moved around Dellic and Nsiia. Femithain nodded, seeing Stone Golems stomping towards Nsiia. They held stone mauls and even Nerrhavia’s advancing [Soldiers] looked wary of them. In fact, Illivere’s army forced the other armies to move around them, awkwardly trying to surround Tiqr’s citizens.
Femithain studied the commotion. It was all chaos, but he wasn’t looking for the whole picture. It was all in the details. Like faults in stone. He needed—
“There.”
Femithain spotted a familiar face in the crowd. He pointed and strode forwards; his twin Steel Golems strode forwards, forcing a path through the [Soldiers]. The Magus-Crafter walked towards them, making a straight line for the man in armor leading his [Soldiers].
Objective. Femithain’s mind was a tidy series of thoughts. Empress Nsiia had surrendered to him. She hoped he would help Tiqr. However, her surrender placed undue pressure on his nation. Femithain weighed Illivere’s future against Nsiia’s wishes, saw a path. All that was left was to achieve it. And that was simple, in a way—or at least, Femithain saw it as so. He had a finite number of options he could pursue, and so he tackled them one at a time.
“General Heic!”
The Magus-Crafter intercepted the [General] of Deimos through the ranks of confused [Soldiers]. Heic looked up and shouted for his men to make way. Femithain left his Golem bodyguards behind and the two paused, shouting amid the commotion.
“Magus-Crafter! Dead gods! Did I hear right? Tiqr’s surrendered to Illivere?”
Heic was astounded. Femithain nodded and grabbed the man’s shoulder. No time for subtleties.
“Exactly so, General Heic! Let us discuss this later. However, General Thelican is approaching with the other coalition leaders.”
It was true. Thelican was making for Femithain and Nsiia, and he wasn’t the only one. [Bandit Lady] Urele was trying to do the same, flanked by her elites. Other [Generals] were approaching—Femithain looked at Heic.
“Of course. We’ll have to decide what’s to be done. Surrendered? I thought for certain we’d be facing Tiqr in the field. Their army’s fleeing to the north. We have to catch them, but with such a lead—”
Heic was spluttering. Femithain shook him slightly. Surprised, the [General] looked at him.
“General Heic. I would like you to support Illivere’s claims in these next moments. In fact, I believe it will be to Deimos’ benefit. Will you heed my request?”
The man blinked at him. Femithain waited. It was a gamble, but he had been acquainted with Heic over the course of the war. He saw the man’s eyes sharpen. Heic wasn’t a fool. And to Femithain’s satisfaction, the man nodded after only eight seconds of indecision.
“Of course!”
“Femithain!”
Thelican’s voice rang through the air. The [General]’s escort cleared the [Soldiers] in front of them; their weapons were drawn. They only halted in front of Illivere’s army; Dellic and the ranks of Golems refused to budge. Magus-Crafter Femithain and General Heic strode towards Thelican. The Stitch-[General] was apoplectic.
“Magus-Crafter, you—er—congratulations! On accepting Tiqr’s surrender on behalf of the coalition!”
You had to admire his ability to improvise. Femithain regarded Thelican over the rim of his spectacles. The [General] was looking for Empress Nsiia. He spotted her in the ranks of Illivere’s army and gestured.
“Wonderful work! We shall take the Empress and discuss matters. Men!”
He nodded to his Nerrhavian elites. The silk [Soldiers] strode forwards and then hastily stopped when the first rank of Golems and Illivere’s [Soldiers] lifted their arms. Thelican hesitated and turned towards Femithain. The Magus-Crafter cleared his throat.
“General Thelican, my pardons for the zeal of my army. I ordered my soldiers to hold the Empress.”
“Oh, of course. Well, if they’ll move aside—”
“I would prefer to do so at a later time. It would be a blow to the coalition if Tiqr’s [Empress] and army were to escape.”
“Escape? Here?”
Thelican did a double-take, looking around and then darkly towards Nsiia. The [Empress] glanced at him, and returned to watching Femithain. The Magus-Crafter stepped forwards. Thelican hurried over; more [Generals] were appearing and they were all seeing Illivere’s army holding the Empress.
The Stitch-[General] was red-faced, but Femithain was still very, very careful. Thelican commanded a vast army and Nerrhavia’s leadership may be pompous, but they were still very good at and willing to kill if need be.
“There’s no way she could escape. Magus-Crafter, I’d be grateful if your men would release her—my [Queen] would like to speak to you. We can sort this out later, eh?”
“And I would be glad to, General Thelican. However, if her people were to see her collared, or perhaps, attacked, they might well revolt, surrender or not.”
Thelican shot a glance at the citizens kneeling in the dust. He hesitated, but Femithain knew he would insist. Which was why Savere’s [Bandit Lady] was such a pleasant and calculated interruption.
“Make way! Move, rot your hides! Where’s the [Empress]? She’s Savere’s prisoner! Move or we’ll run you rotted maggots down!”
A group of cavalry were riding through the army, quite literally doing what they’d threatened. [Soldiers] moved out of the way of the horses and Lady Urele, Savere’s commander, rode straight for Illivere’s army. She turned to find Nsiia, and Thelican whirled on her.
“Commander Urele! Return to your position.”
“Shut up silk boy! You—Magus-whatever! Where’s the [Empress]? She’s our prisoner, got it? Anyone who objects can answer to the Siren!”
Urele rode around in a dangerous circle. She had a horsewhip and she unstrung it now, cracking the air and forcing everyone around her back. She spotted Nsiia among the Golems at last.
“There! Grab her!”
“The Empress of Beasts is a prisoner of Queen Yisame!”
Thelican roared, but it was too late. Some of Savere’s riders leapt from their saddles and swept towards Nsiia. The Golems moved, raising their warhammers. Like Nerrhavia’s best, Savere’s most infamous hesitated. They might be high-level, but there was something about a giant stone Golem lifting a hammer over your head that made even the bravest think about their life choices.
Lady Urele whirled on Femithain.
“You! Mage-boy! Order your Golems to stand aside before my people dice them!”
“Lady Urele—”
Femithain began, but General Thelican leapt in. Now he was purple with fury.
“Soldiers! Form a wall between the Empress and Savere’s irregulars! She is Nerrhavian property!”
The Saverian [Rogues] moved back warily as the silk-cloth warriors stepped forwards, brandishing their curved blades. Femithain heard a mocking call as one warrior slashed out, making a [Rogue] leap back and swear at him. Urele stared at Thelican.
“Move your handkerchiefs, Thelican.”
The Stitch-[General]’s face darkened.
“Remove yourself, Commander Urele, before my army removes you.”
The two commanders stared at each other, their soldiers tense, on edge. The air was sparking, and more armies were still converging. Another [Commander] rode forwards—Femithain recognized Lady Yucale of Lamult.
“What’s going on here? Is the battle over? We’ve yet to take the city!”
She was clearly out of the loop, or else regarded the battle as only ‘won’ when someone planted a flag in a conquered city. She caught sight of the standoff and hesitated.
“Move aside for Xern’s [Strategist]! I said, move aside! Is anyone listening?”
Another leader, the [Strategist] of Xern, was forced to dismount and fight through the press of bodies on foot. Femithain was counting heads. Seven, eight…nearly all the coalition’s leaders were nearby, or in earshot. Thelican was bellowing at all of them to listen to him! Urele was looking around, and some of her people were slipping to the sides, trying to find a way through Dellic’s circle around Nsiia.
And at that moment, General Heic proved why he was a [General] of Deimos. He looked at Femithain, checked his own army, mixed with all the others in this scrum, and then raised his arm and bellowed.
“Deimos salutes Illivere’s splendid triumph over the Empress of Beasts!”
His voice rang over the others, a product of a [Loud Voice] Skill or truly prodigious lungs. Femithain saw Urele and Thelican both look around, along with Xern’s [Strategist], Lady Yucale, and all the others. Heic bellowed again.
“Illivere has accepted Tiqr’s surrender! The war is over! Huzzah!”
“No, it was a coalition led—”
Thelican’s voice was drowned out by a roar from around him. Heic turned and shouted at his [Soldiers].
“Applause!”
Deimos’ army began applauding and cheering the end of the battle. That was enough. The tired [Soldiers], most of whom did not care who had accepted whose surrender so long as they didn’t have to fight another hyena or elephant, began cheering as well. Soon, they were shouting.
“Il-li-vere! Il-li-vere!”
Femithain listened, bemused, but also grateful. He saw Heic turn his head and the [General] gave him the most unsecretive wink Femithain had ever seen. Then Thelican was bearing down on Femithain.
“Magus-Crafter—”
Femithain beat him to it. The Magus-Crafter clicked his fingers and his two Golems moved aside. He turned—and Thelican was walking by his side.
“General Thelican, let us speak freely. Lady Yucale, my apologies. Yes, the war is over. Thelican, may we converse?”
“Of course! I—this is a bit of a disaster—[Strategists]! No one gets near the Empress! Surround, er, Illivere’s formation!”
“Xern’s [Strategist] does not obey orders from—”
“I was speaking to my [Strategists]!”
Thelican roared back. He whirled and Femithain knew it was time. The Magus-Crafter took a breath. He was conscious of Lady Yucale hovering on their left, Urele trying to bully her way to Nsiia as she glared at him, and all the other messengers, officers, and high-ranking leaders around him, listening in. He wove a quick [Bubble of Silence] spell, but he had no doubt it would be penetrated.
And Thelican was turning towards him, and Femithain knew one thing: there were at least two dozen truth spells aimed at him. So he told the truth. That was the first thing you had to learn to survive events like these.
“Magus-Crafter. This surrender business.”
Femithain gave Thelican an apologetic smile.
“Unexpected.”
Thelican looked relieved.
“Yes! Certainly! Those damn Archmages—er—my information was terribly flawed! We were ready for an attack, and then Tiqr just rolls over? But why did the Empress of Beasts surrender to you?”
Femithain paused, and he chose his words carefully.
“The Empress of Tiqr’s surrender was a pleasant surprise. However, I believe Illivere’s terms of surrender are most palatable to her.”
Especially because he hadn’t offered her any. But Thelican’s eyes widened.
“Queen Yisame made her offer, and I know the Siren laid out her terms. But Illivere…?”
Femithain waved off the specifics.
“Illivere wishes an acceptable end to the war, General Thelican. I can promise you that I offered the Empress nothing that would trouble the coalition.”
“But her surrender to you—the Empress is a valuable prisoner, Magus-Crafter. I can see those Saverian dogs sniffing around her formation—let me pull up two battalions and we’ll escort Nsiia to our camp.”
Femithain shook his head.
“General Thelican, I am well aware of the exigencies of Queen Yisame’s requests. For now, however, let us discuss the division of Tiqr’s assets.”
“Of which the Empress of Beasts is non-negotiable—”
“Illivere is, of course, prepared to back Nerrhavia’s claim to Oliphant and its citizens. As well as Nerrhavia’s strong claim towards occupation of the bulk of Tiqr’s territory.”
Thelican paused. He looked at Femithain.
“Occupation? What are you talking about?”
The Magus-Crafter raised his eyebrows.
“Nerrhavia intends to occupy Oliphant, does it not? Tiqr’s citizens may be difficult to return to their settlements at first, but if Oliphant is repopulated by at least three hundred thousand, that should leave many able to return to their lives across the nation. We can hope more refugees will return in time as well.”
“What? What are you talking about, man? These are all…”
Thelican broke off, staring past Femithain at the sea of Tiqr’s citizens. Femithain raised an eyebrow.
“General Thelican, I do not believe even Roshal is inclined to house and feed hundreds of thousands of [Slaves] at such short notice. Let alone the cost of transport and training? They would never make it to Roshal.”
“True! There are far too many even with prisoner trains. Dead gods, but we’d have to feed them. I imagine Roshal would pay to send their own scouting for likely slaves, but—the coalition can divide them up. Savere’s ships will take tens of thousands, I have no doubt.”
Femithain frowned.
“Unless of course you returned them to Tiqr.”
“Why would we do that?”
The Magus-Crafter gave Thelican a long look. The [General] flushed, sensing Femithain’s confusion.
“A slave-state, General Thelican. Isn’t that the most effective solution to the issue?”
The [General] paused. Then his eyes lit up.
“You mean, an occupied country?”
