Shadow Dagger Ch. 19

The surge of uneasiness in her stomach had nearly made her vomit when he said those words.

***

Sophina stretched out the map on the table and said nothing. The people around the table didn't speak either. The map covered the entire city and showed the placement of soldiers they had scouted.

They were running out of options. The sewers ran under the streets of the entire city. Theoretically, their forces could come out the sewers behind enemy lines and attack them before they knew what was happening. Unfortunately, they had a small problem that made that option pointless.

They were outnumbered thirty to one.

"Looking at that map isn't going to magically solve our problems," Raynolt said scornfully. "We know that damn map backwards and forwards. We've been studying the God-forsaken thing for a month!"

Sophina looked up and gave Raynolt the hardest stare she had. Raynolt muttered under his breath and looked away. Unfortunately, Sophina knew he was right. But she would be damned if she told him that.

"The gates are out best option," Peron said, pointing to the three gates leading into the city. The east side of the city held only cliffs and the ocean.

"Huh, I've never heard you give that opinion before," Raynolt snapped. "Why are we going over the same damn points every time we meet?"

"He's right, we're not getting anywhere," Sanje interjected.

"We're chipping away at their numbers," Sophina said. From the look on the faces surrounding her, they knew she was grasping at straws.

Raynolt chortled but said nothing. A drip of water fall from the grimy ceiling and dropped onto Sophina's hand. She grimaced and wiped it absentmindedly on her trousers.

Damn that Reynar for forcing us to meet in the sewers! she thought bitterly. She couldn't remember the last time she had a decent bath. Though, to be honest, she wasn't particularly fond of bathhouses anymore. Her body still hadn't recovered from that bloodbath.

"We're losing that battle," Peron said, dejectedly. Even he was starting to feel the oppressiveness of the sewers. "The Magi can spare the losses it takes to kill the Magi Victus we use to hound them."

Sophina sighed and turned back to Sanje. "How many men do you have left?"

"Too few," he said. If the cowl of his cloak wasn't hiding his features, she knew he would be scowling at her. "I barely have enough men to assault the palace when the day comes."

"If the day comes," Raynolt corrected him.

Sophina ignored him. She turned back to Peron. "I think the gates are the best option, too. There's just no way we can sneak 1,000 men over the walls, not without alerting the Magi. We would be slaughtered."

"For the last time, we can't commit our forces to a gate!" Raynolt growled. "Even if we do manage to take a gate, which you know are very heavily guarded, and let in Peron's men, Reynar will have shown up with his reinforcements by then! Our reduced numbers won't stand a chance against him!"

"Not to mention we have no way to communicate with Peron's men in order to communicate the plan," Sanje added.

"That's true," Peron sighed. "It will take some time to gather all the men in one place. Right now, I have them scattered in different villages in all directions so as to not cause suspicion."

Sophina let their objections wash over her. She had heard the same arguments for the past month. This time, she had made a decision the night before. The thought twisted her stomach.

"We still have one last option," Sophina said quietly.

She saw that that got all of their attention. Peron perked up and even Raynolt looked intrigued against his better judgment. Sanje was as still and silent as ever.

"Which is?" Peron asked.

Sophina looked down as though studying the map again. She was really just buying time to do some last-minute thinking. But nothing came to her in a moment of inspiration. She had no choice.

"First, we would need to sneak you out of the city to gather your men," she said, nodding at Peron.

"Not an impossible thing to do," Raynolt mused. For once, there was no trace of contempt in his voice. "But what good does that do?"

"It readies his men for the assault, obviously," Sophina said.

"What assault?" Raynolt snapped. "We've already told you, we can't commit--"

"We use Marcus to clear the gate," Sophina cut in.

An ominous silence descended into their dank alcove in the filthy sewer beneath the city streets. The flickering torch on the wall hid most of their faces in shifting shadows.

"Sophina..." Peron began but was cut off by Raynolt.

"Ah, this mysterious friend of yours? Tell me, who is this man that you feel can waltz up to a heavily fortified gate and simply clear it of men?"

"I've seen him in action," Sanje said quietly. "It was that night when Reynar's men attacked. I don't know what he is, but he's no simple Magi."

Raynolt scowled; a sight more hideous than usual as most of his face was covered in flickering shadows. "It seems mysterious and powerful Magi are coming out of the woodworks these days. First Reynar, then Jon, then Evelyn, and now this Marcus."

"Can we trust him?" Peron asked.

"Yes," Sophina said simply. She, however, had never known a more complicated situation in her life. Peron knew the truth but Sanje and Raynolt were ignorant of the danger they were in. Raynolt more than Sanje; Sanje had been part of Marcus' breakdown a month ago.

"Then why, in the God's name, have we been banging our heads against these disgusting sewer walls for the past month?" Raynolt demanded.

"He's unstable," Sanje said, a trace of amusement in his voice. "The hole I made in the wall of the Snakepit tavern can give evidence to that."

Sophina smiled slightly and Peron chuckled. "What does that mean?" Raynolt asked impatiently.

"He's not mentally stable," Sophina clarified. "We run a risk of him attacking us as well as the guards."

"Oh, perfect," Raynolt muttered. "Just what we need; another complication."

"It's a risk we have to take," Sophina said firmly.

Nobody argued. They all knew they were out of options. "When do I leave?" Peron asked.

"Tonight," Sophina replied. "How long will it take to gather your men?"

Peron thought it over for a moment. "I can do it in less than a month. The men are scattered to the four corners and it will take some time to get all of them here."

"You seem to be forgetting one thing," Raynolt said.

"What's that?" Sophina growled. She wanted nothing more than to drive her sword through his black heart at that precise moment. He always had to complicate things.

"My payment," he said coldly. "I, and that means my Magi, won't lift a finger to help unless I get what's owed to me."

"You will have to wait until Jon gets back," Sophina said through gritted teeth.

"And when is that, exactly?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Sophina snapped.

Raynolt leaned closer to the table. His face was fully revealed by the torchlight. He stared hard at Sophina as he spoke. "Then Jon has a month. If he isn't back by the time the assault starts, you will have to do it without my Magi."

"Fine," Sophina said. "We need to outline our plan before Peron leaves. Do you consent to that much, Raynolt?"

Raynolt leaned back into the shadows but Sophina could still see the smirk on his face. "Plan away, my dear Sophina. Plan away."

***

The pack Sanje carried hardly weighed anything but it seemed like he carried the weight of the world with him. He had made this journey down the sewers far too often the past few weeks.

He located the blank stone wall he needed and pushed the right brick. The brick sunk into the wall, which slid slowly sideways, and revealed a sturdy iron door with no visible handle.

Sanje took out his Shadow Dagger and inserted it into the slot on the face of the door. The dagger clicked into place and the door swung silently open. Sanje made his way through the dark hallway on memory rather than sight.

When he felt the hallway end, he opened his pack and took out a torch. He felt along the wall until he found the barrel of oil that was left there for the purpose of lighting the torches. He dipped his torch in the barrel and used flint and tinder to ignite it.

He made the customary circle around the perimeter of the room, lighting the torches as he went. Soon, the round chamber with its high ceiling was well lit. The only remarkable feature of the room was the huge stone block that took up most of the space .

On the front surface of the stone hung thousands of Shadow Daggers. It was about to hold a few more. Sanje knelt on the ground and reverently removed the Shadow Daggers in his pack. There were seven daggers.

Seven Magi Victus lost in one week...has there ever been such a loss in our history? How will I be remembered as Master Victus?

Sanje prayed with all his heart and soul that he would be remembered for finally bringing freedom and peace to the Magi Victus. He took out the metal plaques and nails required to hang the daggers on the stone.

He worked as quickly and efficiently as possible. He thought little as his body went through the familiar motions of nailing the plaques to the stone. Before he knew it, he had all seven daggers hung on the plaques.

The daggers shone brilliantly as the stone absorbed them. When the glow faded, the daggers looked like a permanent part of the stone. Sanje counted the daggers he had personally hung and felt a deep shame. He had sacrificed so many Magi Victus.

As he sat on the ground, he contemplated the one question he always contemplated on his trips here. What was this stone monument and what purpose did it serve?

No miraculous bolt of understanding hit him. He knew he would never know the answer. But that didn't mean he wasn't suppose to think about it. A Magi Victus' life should have meaning. Those daggers contain portions of every Magi Victus' soul. Why did the stone seem to absorb the daggers?

The questions faded from his mind, as they always did. He sat quietly, closed his eyes, and held his silent vigil for the new additions to the stone monument.

***

Ashford gave up sleeping as a bad job and rolled reluctantly to the side of the cot. Pre-dawn light filtered in from the openings in the tent flap. It had been a long night, full of nameless fears and worries.

"You think too much," a voice purred from behind him.

"My superiors always said I think too little," Ashford replied. He stood up, naked, and made his way to the basin of water on the table. "They always said I was too hot-headed and stubborn."

"You Astuarians are beyond my understanding," Istas complained. Ashford felt warm arms wrap around his chest and wet lips nipping the base of his neck. "Except when it comes to pleasing a woman," she whispered by his ear.

Ashford shrugged her off. "Didn't you get enough last night?"

She grabbed his arm hard and turned him to face her. Her dark eyes were as hard as stones. "I take what I want. Be a man and don't complain. It's a bad trait for a leader."

"I'm no leader," Ashford growled. Why did the woman insist on pestering him every day?

"Your friend has no intention of staying," she hissed. "You're in a position to seize power once he leaves."

"I have no intention of staying, either," he told her firmly. "I've told you that many times before."

Her eyes flashed dangerously for a brief moment. But then she smiled. "My husband is a stubborn man," she murmured.

She said it to annoy him, Ashford knew. And it frustrated him to no end that she had succeeded once again. "I'm not your husband!"

She laughed and patted his face. "I'll let you have your little fantasy. For now," she added, winking. "But in time, I will teach you to never say that again."

Ashford growled in frustration and distracted himself by splashing water on his face.

Just because I killed her husband, doesn't mean I am her bloody husband!

He dried his face and grabbed a fresh robe from his pack. "I need to go see Jon," he said, not daring to look at Istas.

"Of course you do, my husband," she replied sweetly. Ashford gritted his teeth. "You're a very important man. You need to be with him when he faces the final tribe."

The final tribe...Ashford could hardly believe it. He thought after the difficulty in taking the city of Shade that they would never get to the goddess in time. But Jon's army swelled with the ranks of the new warriors from the Coyote tribe.

Consequently, the Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Spider felt his best possibility of survival lay in challenging Jon in one on one combat. The Spider's city wasn't a very defensible city. Jon's army would have destroyed everything in their path as easily as a farmer plows a field.

Needless to say, Jon killed him easily. After that, Jon's army swelled even more. The Tribe of the Desert Fox tried a sneak attack during the night as Jon's army camped outside their small city. They hoped to carve a path toward Jon's tent. It didn't turn out well for them.

The Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Hyena challenged Jon to combat blindfolded. The man had obviously heard of Jon's battle prowess and knew he didn't stand a chance in a fair fight. Jon won that fight with one move.

The Chieftain of the Tribe of the Desert Bobcat swore he would never see his tribe bend knee to an Astuarian. He told Jon that the only way he would fight Jon was if his whole army fought their way through the city. He swore he would bloody Jon's army every step of the way.

His tribesman, as it turns out, weren't so keen to be offered up like lambs to a slaughter. On the night before the attack, the tribesman arrived at Jon's camp and deposited their Chieftain's body at Jon's feet.

And now the only tribe left was the Tribe of the Desert Cheetah. They were currently camped below a tall ridge that would reveal the last city in the desert of Raves.

The city the goddess called home.

"Have you ever seen the goddess?" Ashford asked curiously as he dressed.

Istas sniffed. "My husband was never important enough to meet the goddess. But now, I think I have a good feeling."

Ashford would sooner cut off his hand than let Istas join him. Not after what Jon told him. No, if he met the goddess, it would be Jon and him only.

Once Ashford was dressed, he picked up a small bundle wrapped in black cloth and stuck it under the belt of his trousers that he wore underneath his robe. The robe hung down to his feet and neatly concealed the bundle.

"Wish us luck," he told Istas.

She walked up to him, still naked, and kissed him. "We will see great glory this day," she said lustfully.

Ashford took one last look at her glorious body and left the tent. The sun was barely rising over the horizon. He made his way through the makeshift camp and quickly found Jon's tent.

"Jon, are you up?" he called out.

Two tribesman standing guard by the tent flap gave him hard looks. Ashford did his best to ignore the itchy feeling on the back of his neck. He kept expecting a knife in his back sooner or later. These tribesman hated Magi with a passion.

"Come in, Ashford," came Jon's calm voice.

Ashford walked past the guards and ducked into the tent. Jon was pulling on a dark brown coat and stomping into his boots. His chestnut-brown hair showed no signs that he had slept. Ashford's own dark hair had grown considerably in the past month and was a decent length again. Istas liked to grab a handful of it when they made love.

"Today's the day," Ashford said nervously. The past night's fears still lingered in his mind.

"Don't worry," Jon replied. He smiled warmly at Ashford. "All will be well."

"How are you not scared?" Ashford asked.

"Because things are finally coming together," Jon said solemnly. "I have been waiting for these days for the past two thousand years. That's a long time to wait, Ashford."

"I bet," Ashford breathed. Two thousand years? Ashford was shocked that Jon hadn't lost his mind from waiting that long.

"Come, Ashford, Chieftain Diazan awaits us at the gates to the city. I'm most anxious to see this city. Have you heard anything about it from Istas?"

Ashford shook his head. He pulled back the tent flap and followed Jon out. The guards gave Ashford another hard look before following them.

"These tribesman are very tight-lipped when it comes to the goddess. Apparently, they consider this city to be a holy place. All I've heard is that there is nowhere else like it in the desert."

"That's about the extent of my knowledge," Jon said.

They arrived at the picket line for the horses. They mounted the horses that were given to them and waited as Jon's lieutenants mounted up. Once the party was formed, they snapped the reigns and began to move out.

The army marched behind them as they rode out of the camp and toward the ridge that dominated the skyline. Ashford rode beside Jon, as did his top lieutenant, Dasan. The heavily scarred warrior hardly spoke in Ashford's presence. Either the man didn't much care for words or he didn't like Ashford.

Either way, very little was said as their horses struggled up the road that led to the crest of the ridge. After several minutes of hard climbing, their horses finally managed to scramble over. The sight that met them would stay with Ashford forever.

The rising sun set off reflections of dark reds and yellows off the glass buildings. Ashford shook his head and looked again.

The city seemed to be made entirely ofglass.

Ashford saw nothing but elaborately constructed buildings and statutes made from glass. The walls that surrounded the city were glass at least a half a mile thick. The building that resembled a wave crashing against the rocks was glass. The huge palace that shone like a beacon in the middle of the city was made entirely of glass.

"The God be great," Ashford breathed. He had never seen anything more beautiful.

"Is that a lake?" Jon asked, pointing.

"Yes," grunted Dasan.

Ashford saw where Jon was pointing. Sure enough, west of the city was a huge lake. Ashford also realized that the area around the city was neatly landscaped with thick grass and tall palm trees.

"It's an oasis," Ashford whispered in awe.

"We had cities as magnificent as this," Jon whispered sadly. "The true-born destroyed most of them."

"Was this made in your time?" Ashford whispered back, mindful of Dasan on Jon's other side.

Jon shook his head. "No, this is new," he said quietly. He shook his head and started his horse forward.

Ashford's awe was barely contained as they drew closer to the city. Up close, the buildings and statutes were dizzying in their beauty. The sun reflected a multitude of colors deep within the glass.

As they drew closer to the gate, Ashford spotted a lone man standing in the road. "That's probably Chieftain Diazan," he guessed.

Jon nodded. "One last man, Ashford. After this, there is no turning back. Are you ready?"

"Do you have to ask?" Ashford joked. He swallowed.

Jon's lips twitched as they made their way to the man standing in the road. Ashford glanced back and was comforted to see their massive army standing in ranks behind them.

"Chieftain Jon D'Thelas san Ronar, allow me to welcome you to the city of Oasis," Diazan said, his arms held out wide to indicate the city behind him.

Jon dismounted from his horse and Ashford followed suit. Jon approached Diazan and bowed respectfully. "It's a most beautiful city, Chieftain Diazan."

Ashford didn't like the smirk on Diazan's face. "Yes it is, Chieftain Jon. However, I must inform you that you will never step foot inside."

"We'll see," was all Jon replied.

Diazan laughed. "I can't tell you how long I've looked forward to this day."

Diazan's eyes flashed silver for a brief moment. Ashford almost shouted in shock as he hurriedly opened himself to his magic. The calm look on Jon's face was almost as much as a shock. He looked like he had anticipated this very thing.