The enemy was stirring. Eamus could see them in the distance, an army so massive that it was like a single, undulating entity. Like a snake that was starting to coil itself around its prey.
“Rüg’s breath!” exclaimed Tiberius. “Look at the size of that force!”
“My Lord,” said Eamus, “I would request that you keep your comments to yourself. At least in front of the men.”
Tiberius turned at the rebuke. Eamus was usually very proper while addressing Tiberius, particularly in public, so this was entirely out of character. Tiberius understood the necessity for the tone, however, and did not respond in kind. Instead he continued to look at the surging mass in the distance that was the Bazragahi invading force.
“Lord Eamus,” said Aeneas coming up from behind, “I have dispatched your orders to Lord Enoch.”
“And how was he when he took the orders?” asked Eamus.
“Much the same as he always is, my Lord,” said Aeneas, “his face betrayed no emotion.”
“Good,” said Eamus. “That is good.”
“My Lord, if I may be so bold as to ask,” said Aeneas, “have you and your brother quarreled recently? I simply ask because…”
Aeneas wilted at the look Eamus gave him. “My relationship with me brother is of no concern to you, Aeneas,” said Eamus. “It holds no bearing on our professional relationship, and so it is not going to have any effect on our combined efforts in defending this citadel.”
“Very good my Lord,” said Aeneas with a bow.
“The other Lords,” said Eamus, “are they all in the inner citadel?”
“They are my Lord,” said Aeneas. “With Lord Enoch relaying orders to the lieutenants and the Lords safely ensconced, I believe that we have done all we can my Lord.”
Eamus nodded and turned to Tiberius, saying, “It’s time to head to the citadel, my Lord.”
Tiberius, wide eyed, said, “Are you sure that there is nothing I am meant to do?”
“Nothing that I can’t handle for you, my Lord,” said Eamus. “Please, just trust me as your emissary.”
Tiberius gave a shaky nod and allowed Aeneas to lead him to the safe house in the innermost areas of the citadel.
Eamus was monitoring the horizon when he felt a presence appear to his right. He turned to see Quintus, one of the alchemists in the citadel.
“Everything went according to plan, I hope?” asked Eamus.
“Perfectly according to plan,” said Quintus. “Our readings detected no unusual activity in the enemy camp which tells me that they did not send any mages with them.”
“Isn’t that highly unusual, though?” asked Eamus.
Quintus smiled a rather unnerving smile and said, “The mages think us long gone, Eamus. Long ago we were equals, rivals, but now alchemy has become a northern peculiarity rarely heard of in the South. Exiled and forgotten though we may be, our order is just as powerful as it has always been.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Eamus. “If the army did not bring any mages we may yet have a fighting chance.”
Eamus saw a rider in the distance. Behind him, an enormous contingent of Bazragahi troops came close enough to adopt an offensive position. Eamus smiled when he saw this. Yomadan already knew what his answer was going to be.
“I come on behalf of Emperor Shalmanisar and General Yomadan,” the rider cried out once he came close enough for them to hear him. “General Yomadan awaits your answer. What say you?”
The citadel was silent in response to the rider’s words.
“I ask that you answer, and do it quickly,” said the rider, “for the General will take the absence of a response as a refusal and our attack will begin.”
Once again, the citadel was silent. Eamus had instructed every man on the front lines to remain silent. He was not going to give Yomadan the satisfaction of getting an answer from him, even if that answer was a refusal.
The rider, clearly annoyed that no one was responding, turned and rode off without another word. Over the next hour, Eamus saw to the men, passing by Enoch without a glance. Enoch was busy at work as well, but he was sure that his brother had busied himself specifically because he had seen Eamus approaching.
Soon the cry went out. The enemy was approaching, and the archers further back had sent their first volley. Eamus watched the volley approach, uncertain of what he was hoping to see. As he watched the hail of arrows swarm towards them, something odd started to happen.
The arrows started to fly off course, and for a moment Eamus was hopeful until they started to land. Off course though the arrows were, many of them still hit their mark. His men started to drop like flies even though they had their shields up. He heard a cry to return fire, possibly from Enoch. Cursing, he made his way through the ranks, looking for Quintus.
He saw the alchemist, gazing at the next hail of arrows fast approaching with an almost ecstatic look on his face.
Eamus grabbed the alchemist and shook him, saying, “What was that? That was the protection you promised me?”
“Was it not incredible!” said Quintus, “the arrows flew off course!”
“They still killed my men,” said Eamus, still shaking the alchemist, spittle flying from his mouth. “I have seen you people thicken the air around yourself and trap arrows in it. That was what I thought I had bought!”
“If I had made it too obvious the enemy would have called in its mages!” cried Quintus. “We must be subtle, we must use as much as we can without tipping the enemy off!”
Eamus shoved Quintus away. He would deal with him later. Right now, the first Bazragahi wave was fast approaching and he feared that they were not as well prepared as he thought they were.
