Midnight Bounties 4 - Chapter 39

I stuck Traitor into the ground and sat down, wiping sweat and Quinta blood off my brow. The smell of burnt flesh was heavy in the air. I looked up over the temple roofs at the scarred wall where Quinta sacrifices were burning every few feet and lighting up the night sky. The bricks and mortar behind which we hid were not ours anymore. Looming over the spirals of our temples and the rooftops of our homes, the wall was no longer a protector, but a threatening shadow beset by the enemy. 

 I pulled a blanket over Fey who was snoring inside a cart and grinned.

“How is that even possible?” Pearl said, nodding at Fey.

Just as she said it, something exploded further north between the streets, maybe a spell, maybe another projectile, either way, Fey didn’t move an inch.

“You should take the opportunity to do the same,” I said.

Pearl blew air out her nose.

“If we somehow survive this, I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again.”

I looked over my shoulder at the rest of the Temple Square. The rustle of war had quieted down as dawn approached. Soldiers carried wounded and healers worked tirelessly to save every man they could. Targa was somewhere in the front lines and Stein had retreated to the safety of our barricaded position. He was waiting for me in the command tent, but I wasn’t feeling it. Everything had gone to shit.

We managed to hold the three streets leading down to the district once the wall was breached. For now. The Quinta attack hadn’t stopped. The Emperor only drew his fist back so he could hit harder the next day. We had to brace for the worst, but at least we caught a breather. Even fanatics got tired, after all.

“So much death. I have never thought that in my lifetime—”

“Wort, we all saw it. We all killed. Just give me a break,” Tyfus said, rubbing his soot-covered face.

The fautar slouched his big hairy shoulders and went silent. I had never seen the gnome mage in such a state, not even when he was wounded. He was quiet for the most part and his insults were delivered half-heartedly.

“Opius and I must return to our beds, Master Frank. Dawn is upon us,” Ragul said.

“You do that. Good job you two. You’ve done more than most.”

The vampires bowed and made their way south towards the club as the rest of us watched them in silence.

“How about a song?” Spif said enthusiastically.

“You know what, Spif? Sure, go hard,” I said.

The mood was sour, depressing even. I was used to it, of course. The time between battles was always hardest on the nerves. The satyr strung his lyre and Fey shot up immediately.

“Can’t a girl shut her eyes for a minute?”

“Sorry, Fey,” Spif said.

“Girl, you’ve been sleeping for almost two hours which is more than the rest of the city combined,” Pearl said, tossing a pebble at her head.

“I get sleepy when I’m stressed,” Fey said and rubbed her forehead. She sat up and looked around. “Any new attacks?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Just the usual.”

“That Emperor of yours,” Tyfus began. “Did you know he was that powerful?”

“He’s not my Emperor,” Fey shot back. “And no, I didn’t.” She bit her lip. “Well, the thing is, we all worshipped him almost like a God. Everyone always said he was the greatest creature ever to walk the world, but I had never seen him. He’s not a public figure like your…late king.”

“He doesn’t even have a name, does he?” Matis said, polishing his sword.

“No, we all just called him the Emperor.”

Another explosion rocked the city and thick smoke came wafting up from Fenfer’s Road nearby, drawing our attention to it.

“Alevia’s Will, that’s the only other name we used for the Emperor. He was alive before I was born, before my parents were born. For the Quinta, there never was a time when the Emperor didn’t rule.”

“Yeah, according to the library records he’s something like four-hundred years old. Or at least that’s the earliest mention of him,” Tyfus said, grabbing a flask from Rot’s hand.

The duergar protested loudly.

“But it wasn’t always like this,” Fey said. “My grandpa used to say the Emperor was a symbol of peace in his time, though I don’t think that was true either. Our first war was over two hundred years ago when the Northfolk invaded our lands and we beat them back. Then the Roland Confederacy to our east apparently killed some of our high lords, so we went to war with them too. By the time I was old enough to understand what was going on, we were at war with basically every kingdom that bordered with ours. Everything in our lives was about war, the Emperor, and Alevia.” She looked up at the sky and frowned. “We were always afraid. All of us, even the nobles and the high lords.”

“Do you ever miss your family?” Pearl asked out of the blue.

“They tried to sacrifice me, remember?” She shook her head and spat. “But even so, I miss some of it. My home, the woods where I practiced my bow so nobody would see me and…God, I miss the food.”

“I miss me mum,” Rot said and burped. All eyes shot his way. “What? She’s been a good lady. Always cared for lil’ Rot unlike me pops. He only cared for stones and rocks. Should have married one I told him once. Both of ‘em beat the life out of me that day.”

“I…don’t know what to say, Rot,” I said and cocked an eyebrow. It was the most he’d ever gone into private matters.

“Aye, what’s to say.” He snatched the flask from Tyfus’ hand. Laughter erupted between the Midnights and somehow the weight of everything felt just a tiny bit lighter.

“You think we’ll make it?” Pearl asked as we went quiet again.

“Make what, Pearl?” I put a hand on her shoulder. “Of course we’ll make it. We’ve got work to do in the clubs. I still want the Midnight Bounties to get to level 4 and no immortal Emperor and his army of fanatics will stop me.”

“The club,” Fey laughed. “You’re basically the ruler of the city right now. Do you really want to go back to doing that?”

“What? I’m no ruler. I’m a club owner and a carpenter at heart. My place is—”

“High Lord Commander Frank the God Slayer, sir,” Derek’s voice snapped, cutting me off. My old runnerboy was clad in the finest armor, though bloodied and dented by the battle.

“High Lord what?” I said and the others laughed. “Who decided on that title?”

“Commander Stein, sir.”

“Derek, it’s me. Just say Frank.”

“Chain of command, sir,” Derek said flatly. “You don’t have to respect the man, but you respect the rank.”

“Sure,” I said, slowly getting up. I had an inkling as to what his arrival meant. “The War Council calling?”

“Yes, sir,” Derek said.

“Alright. Midnights, try and get some rest. Don’t drink too much, we have to kill a bunch more Quinta before we can relax.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, high-ass lord bullshit…ass,” Tyfus said tiredly.

It was almost sad to see the gnome’s creativity as depleted as his arcane powers.

Derek escorted me to the command tent for some reason and as I pulled up the flap and walked in, a dozen pairs of eyes met me. Stein stood at the head of a table across which a large map of Sankta Varath sat together with wooden figurines representing the different armies. There was a whole lot of white little pieces surrounding the temple district and only a handful of black ones defending it.

Murgar of the Morkin Watch was there too, representing the southern orc defenses which Hezzak commanded. Tailfire was biting his fingernails, the man looked drained and some of his hair looked burnt off. Targa towered over everyone present. For a moment I thought the orc had somehow increased in size since I last seen him. Between Captain Isaiah of the Royal Guard and Major Jawpin who ran the defenses of the eastern wall, stood a presence that seemed to suck the light out of the torches in the tent, Garret of the Sons of Varath. He nodded his head respectfully as I entered. Finally, standing in stark contrast to the deathdreamer’s morose, slightly hunched stance and bone-white skin, was Shieldmother. A bronze pillar of iron resolve whose heavy, bejeweled shield never left her side.

“High Lord Commander,” Stein said as I entered.

“Alright, let’s skip the crap, Stein. I’m not a lord and I’m especially not a high lord. Commander is fine.”

“God Slayer,” Garret said flatly. “I didn’t have a chance to find you.”

I gave him a disinterested look. Fucking Garret. He was all gloom and doom about the quest and now that I went to Hell and back he acted like he sent me to fetch his slippers or something.

“Garret,” I said, nodding in his direction. “Shieldmother, lords.” I approached the table looking the map over. The balance of white and black figurines to the east and south looked much better than in the north. No wonder, the rest of the Quinta army only served to spread out our main force.

“You have the stench of Hell on you, Frank Midnight,” Shieldmother said.

“I didn’t get to bathe with the war and everything.”

She didn’t even grace me with a smile.

“I’ve heard of your exploits. You have performed a remarkable feat. Respect.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” I said and meant it.

Praise from Shieldmother was rarer than bold sardak.

“I saw your Steel Bastion.”

“You did?” she blurted out but then quickly found her composure again, looking ashamed for a brief moment.

“It’s destroyed, isn’t it?”

“It stands,” I said, leaving out the part about it being a complete ruin. She only nodded though there was a heavy sadness in her eyes.

“Major, what does the east look like?” I asked Jawpin.

The white-haired veteran elf must have been a thousand years old by the look on his face, though he held himself like all elves did, haughty and important.

“The wall is holding, Commander. The attacks are constant, but not too intense. Our mages are keeping us save.”

“Same with the shamans in the south, Frank Boss,” Murgar said. “It’s boring. No proper blood is spilled.”

“Good,” I said.

“Good?” Murgar snapped. “All hell is loose here. Orcs are covered in enemy blood. What we do? Nothing.”

I sighed and turned to Stein.

“How’s the First here?”

“We lost more than half our infantry, Commander. The cavalry is still intact and much of our archers managed to survive because I pulled them off the wall in time. We’re holding Dewfall Street, the orcs are in the other two streets. I’ve sent detachments west to cover the smaller alleys.”

“Good,” I said though nothing about it was good. “Targa?”

“Orcs hold strong,” he said thumping his chest. “We lose three thousand, not terrible. But we lose all catapults and shaman platforms in retreat.”

“Mages?” I asked Tailfire.

“Lost five,” he said, his left eye twitching.

“Alright, that’s not too bad,” I said.

“It’s fucking atrocious,” he cried, his voice rising high in pitch. The man cleared his throat and then bit his fingernails nervously. “Five good ones, too. Bigwater blew himself up on the wall and took out a score of our own archers.”

“That happens.”

“Happens, yes, it happens,” he continued. “But it’s going to happen a lot more often. Mages are not made for prolonged warfare. Not at this scale at least.”

“Who is made for this, Tailfire?” I said seriously.

“Orcs!” Murgar said excitedly.

“Yes, orcs,” Tailfire went on. “But not us. We can’t sustain this much arcane power for so long. It drains us physically, sure. But mentally? We are a fucking mess. Half of those who survived the night are rolling in their tents crying, the other half are drinking themselves stupid.”

I looked to Stein who shrugged.

“So you’re saying the mages need a break?”

“Yes, the mages need a break. They need sleep and calm and—”

“We’re at war, Tailfire!” Garret hissed, making the lamps in the tent flicker. “You think the average soldier feels any better? You think anyone is catching sleep tonight?”

Tailfire took a step back from the table.

“I’m surrounded by madmen. You want the mages blowing up in the middle of our ranks, sellsword? That’s what you’ll get if you push them.”

“Tell them to retreat to the university. Have them rest then,” I said.

“You think the Emperor will let his mages take a break, Frank?” Garret snapped.

“Thank you,” Tailfire said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go tell them right now. The sooner they hear it, the better.”

I nodded and Tailfire stormed out the tent.

“The streets are tight, Frank. We need arcane protection. Men will die.”

“The Deathdancer is right, Commander,” Major Jawpin said.

“You forget that we have shamans, my friends,” I said. “Their defensive magic is on par with some of the best mages of the University.”

It was no surprise that the commanders of the King’s Army didn’t take the orc forces seriously. Even after the lessons of the First Orc war many high-ranking officers in the military just wouldn’t admit that they had faced a well-prepared force rather than a horde of savages.

“Tonight,” Targa said, speaking up. “Orcs fought good, they fueled hearts with rage and blood of enemy. But now our appetite opened!”

Murgar thumped his chest at that, his eyes lightning up.

“Today we fight like Gods! Like children of Orga and Korga. You will see, elf, nothing is like orc hungry for war.”

“There you have it, gentlemen,” I said, shooting them a grin and knowing exactly what he meant. The longer the orcs fought, the harder they fought.

“I was witness to this, gentlemen. More than once, and so will the Emperor’s forces.”

“Speaking of which,” Garret began. “What do you plan on doing with him?”

It was a fair question.

“Hell if I know,” I said, shaking my head. I looked up at Garret. “Can I send you to kill him?”

“I could try, certainly. But I would just as certainly die, you know this.”

“I was joking, Garret,” I said, breathing out. “I will put you in Fenfer’s Road, so do as much damage as you can. Shieldmother, you’ll take Dewfall Street and I’ll take my family to Esheytan’s Way. It’s the broadest street and I expect the main assault to begin there. The Quinta aren’t subtle and the Emperor has men to spare. Should he show himself…well, I’ll take him on. Maybe I can end this war before the whole city is in ruin.”

“You have been given great gifts, Spellmonger, it is your duty—”

Before Garret could finish, the ground shook with a massive explosion and the figurines on the table fell over. A loud ringing filled my ears and I felt disoriented for a moment. I came to my senses quickly and ran out the tent. The Temple District was still in place, but everyone seemed to be frozen trying to figure out what happened. A vast pillar of smoke rose from the direction of Esheytan’s Way. Shortly after a Quinta horn bellowed.

“We’re under attack!” someone screamed.

Panic broke out in the square, men and women were grabbing their weapons and looking around for orders.

“Shamans!” I heard Targa roar from behind me.

The orc must have sensed what was coming because shortly after a fiery boulder exploded against the statue of Virilian and destroyed it.

The sky lit up with magic. Fire, ice, light, and boulders glimmered over our heads and came flying down with a vengeance. A dozen shamans immediately began channeling their protective shield and a pillar of white-green magic shot up from between them and spread across much of the square. Explosions flashed against the protective dome as the projectiles connected.

Many were stopped by the rippling arcane shield, but enough broke through to hit some of the resting soldiers, kill horses, and destroy equipment and weaponry. Two first aid tents were on fire, and men carried wounded outside to get away from the flames.

“High Lord Commander—” Derek began and I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in.

“What the hell is going on, Derek? How are they this close?”

“The Emperor,” he said his eye wide with panic. “He leveled everything between Esheytan’s Way and Fefner’s Road.”

“How many are lost?” I barked.

“I don’t know, I don’t know!”

I let go of the man and looked around fumbling for orders. I saw our troops retreating and looking like they had seen a ghost.

“Establish a perimeter around the square!” I yelled. “Targa, Stein, get your men in formation! Pull the men from Dewfall Street now! Establish a perimeter!”

A boulder landed a few feet from me, tearing into a food cart and rolling through the men and horses around it. I covered my face as sharp shards of stone shot in every direction.

“Frank!” I heard Fey’s voice yell.

I froze in place seeing her run at me. Her face was bloody and caked with dust.

“Are you alright?”

“I am, but Spif and Pearl, Frank. We were hit hard.”

I felt a cold sensation climb up my spine.

“Are they alive?”

“We have healers with us. I don’t know, Frank.” I started towards where my family was resting before the attack began then stopped and bit my lip.

“What’s going on? What do we do?” Fey demanded.

“Keep them safe, Fey,” I said, tightening my fists.

I looked north, hearing the clatter of thousands of soldiers marching our way as soldiers of the first established a makeshift perimeter around the square with orcs in the first line and archers and casters behind them. More and more shamans joined the shielding ritual in the center, the green-white pillar growing denser by the second.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Garret running towards the front line. We locked eyes for a moment, and shared a knowing look.

“Protect them,” I told Fey.

“Where are you going? Don’t leave us now!”

“I’m going to stop this war,” I hissed through my teeth and (Rift Walked) forward, leaving only purple mist in my way. As I reappeared near the frontline, I drew Mercy and Traitor and jumped the barricades, leaving the startled soldiers behind me.

“Where are you going, Frank?” Stein yelled after me.

“Defend the city,” I just said and (Rift Walked) again, heading for the Quinta army.

It was time to meet their immortal emperor in person.