“Well, don’t stand there trying not to snigger, help him!” Cressida snapped at the guards, then immediately regretted it as the werewolf and housecarle dived into the melée with the sort of enthusiasm that made everything worse. In fact, if she hadn’t known for a fact that all soldiers of every species treated her with the utmost respect and awe, Cressida might have believed that the guards were deliberately making matters worse. Soon more and more carpet became entangled in the spears, and at one point the werewolf seemed to be chewing the fringing off one particularly fine rug that was Cressida’s favourite.
“Enough!” she suddenly bellowed at battle pitch, and the three figures in the middle of the chaos thunderously dropped the spears and carpet they were wrestling with. “Leave everything where it is; I’ll find a chamberlain to clear it up later!” she said in tired tones. Then, reviving, she turned to the guards. “And you two! Get back to your posts! If I’d wanted clowns I’d have sent for a circus!”
Leonidas tried to retrieve something of his dignity as he smoothed his tunic, but his mane of black curls now stood in tufts, and had pieces of carpet fluff in it. Cressida took one look and fetched her brush.
“Sit still,” she commanded, and began to put his hair to rights. At first the commander sat rigid and tense under her ministrations, but slowly he began to relax, and even closed his eyes as she brushed and smoothed his hair. Later, neither of them was entirely sure how it happened, but as Cressida began to smooth his curls from his forehead, Leonidas opened his eyes, and somehow her lips were hovering the merest whisper from his. It would take only the slightest movement for them to brush together, and the intensity of it all was almost overwhelming.
“What are you doing, woman; trying to bite his face off?” Grishmak boomed as he erupted into the tent. Then he threw back his head and laughed.
Leonidas leaped from his stool as though he’d sat on a thistle, and stumbled past the werewolf King and out of the tent. Cressida whirled around in fury. “Grishmak! Don’t you believe in knocking?”
“What, on canvas?” he enquired innocently.
She threw her brush in rage into the tangle of carpets and spears that still littered the middle of the tent, and Grishmak observed the mess interestedly.
“My, my, you two have been energetic, haven’t you?” he said, and gave her a huge wink. “That’s the style, lass. Keep him busy and he won’t stray far.”
Outside the tent, the werewolf and housecarle guards winced as Cressida screamed an explosion of obscenities in both human and Wolf-folk speech.
Medea was almost content. She and Cronus had secured the vast majority of the Icemark after a lightning campaign that had raged through the land in a matter of days. Every major settlement was now under their control, all the roads were patrolled and every fortress was garrisoned. Medea was now the virtual co-ruler of the land in which she was born. If only her family could see her now; if only Oskan knew of her incredible success and power! The Vampire Queen retained only a mere toe-hold in the Great Forest, and though the latest assaults against her positions had been repulsed with heavy losses, Medea was certain she’d soon be overcome. She was also certain that the ‘nuisance raids’ which had slowed down preparations for the next stage of their campaign would also stop, just as soon as they could smoke out the Vampire nest hidden in the trees. In fact, her grandfather was trying to do just that as he led another assault against the Great Forest.
Medea rested her hands on the huge oaken arms of the throne that stood in the Great Hall of the citadel of Frostmarris and savoured the coming victory. The citadel had already been destroyed once before by Her Vampiric Majesty’s squadrons, but it’d been a simple magical matter to rebuild it. A situation that summed up the Vampire army nicely; they were a nuisance, a mere hindrance, and once they’d been destroyed, she and Cronus could continue with their plan to invade the Polypontus. And of course, as they were a force under the command of Adepts, there’d be none of the tedious marching and drawn-out preparations that a mortal host would need to undergo. Once they were ready, Cronus would simply transport them to their destination via the Magical Realms in the blink of an astonished eye.
She sighed happily. She already controlled the land of her hated family, and soon she’d rule the world. How many pathetic mortal tyrants had dreamed of such power, little knowing they were doomed to failure? Only those with magical Abilities had any hopes of achieving such a goal, and even amongst their august numbers, only Medea and Cronus could ever succeed.
Her happiness was such that she decided to celebrate her pending victories by feeding her magically created body with wine and sweetmeats that it didn’t actually need. But before she could move, a hideous screeching sounded on the air, echoing from the courtyard and filling the Great Hall with its cacophony. Medea slapped her open palms down onto the arms of the throne in amazed rage. The Vampires were attacking again! They must have simply outflanked her grandfather’s attack on their lair and flown on to launch their own assault on Frostmarris. The Vampire Queen was outrageous in her arrogance! Without further delay Medea hurried off to direct the defence of the city, collecting a contingent of Dark Witches as she went, their tattered and twisted forms gathering about her like the wind-torn rags of storm clouds.
As she made her way down from the citadel of Frostmarris she could clearly see the formations of Vampire squadrons as they swept across the skies. Their numbers were surprisingly large considering the losses they’d suffered in the many battles and skirmishes they’d fought, but Medea could only assume that this was the full complement of Her Vampiric Majesty’s remaining strength, and that somehow she’d managed to completely avoid Cronus’s attack on her stronghold.
No matter, the Vampires could just as easily be destroyed over Frostmarris as they could be over the Great Forest, and when Cronus realised that the enemy had literally flown the nest, he’d guess what was happening and return to the city immediately.
Medea found the Ice Demon garrison ready and waiting for orders on the walls, their scaly bodies and scarlet-feathered wings incongruously encased in armour and their ferocious tusked heads somehow made even more hideous by the polished metal and plumes of their helmets. She rapped out orders as she strode up, and immediately the hideous creatures leaped into flight. She then watched as wave after wave of them poured into the sky, their huge wings sending up a clamour of rapid beats as they powered towards the enemy.
The Vampires now let out screeches of challenge, and section by section they folded their bat wings and dived to meet the Demons. The roar of onset echoed over the sky and through the streets of Frostmarris, and Medea watched as the giant bats smashed into the even bigger Ice Demons. It took two or even three Vampires to successfully challenge one of Medea’s warriors, and she watched avidly as they tore at each other with fang and claw.
Soon the sky was dark with falling bodies, as fighters of both species fell in ruin to smash into the ground hundreds of metres below. Medea sent more and more of her demons into the battle so that soon they heavily outnumbered the enemy, but incredibly, they were losing! Her warriors were being torn limb from limb, and even those that safely reached the ground were then attacked by the Vampires as they transformed into their human shapes and fought against the demons using weapons of silver and pure iron. The talismanic metals ripped open the Ice Demons’ bodies, spilling their black blood in great gouts and fountains that melted the winter snows.
The Vampires were slowly gaining mastery over the sky, and as Medea watched, entire squadrons peeled away to drop small barrels of blazing pitch onto the streets and empty houses below. Soon entire areas of the city were in flames, yet again, and she raged in frustration as her defending army seemed unable to stop them.
The time had come for her to intervene. Throwing wide her arms, she drew on the Power of the Darkness and gathered all she needed from the materials that surrounded her. Atoms of stone and steel, ice and iron were drawn into her body, adding to its bulk and strengthening
the framework of skeleton and sinew in her magically created form. Soon she’d gathered enough material to expand and grow, and her face acquired a viciously hooked beak, as her feet became ripping talons and her arms powerful wings that stretched wide across the sky. Medea had assumed the form of a gigantic eagle, and with a high-pitched call of pure hatred she soared into the sky, snatching Vampires from the air and ripping them to bloody shreds as she flew. Entire squadrons fell to her rending beak and talons, and soon the streets of Frostmarris were littered with the broken remains of the Undead.
High above the battle, observing all, Her Vampiric Majesty flew with her elite flight of bodyguards. She could clearly see that the tide of battle had turned in Medea’s favour, as the evil Adept swept through the army of Undead warriors and sent thousands to oblivion. Without hesitation the Vampire Queen folded her wings and dived at the eagle that was Medea. Her entire squadron followed in an avalanche of silent wing and fang, the wind of their speed roaring in their ears and cascading over their flesh like icy water as they dived, and as one they smashed into their enemy, driving her to the ground in a tangle of broken feathers.
The rending crash of impact broke Medea’s wings and shattered her body, but she roared in defiance and struck at them with her razor beak. The Vampires wheeled away out of range, and then dived into the attack again, the Queen screeching a challenge as she powered towards her enemy.
Medea hit the ground with a force that drove her body deep into its own impact crater. Still defiant, she sent out a lightning blast against the Vampire Queen, but her squadron flew on, shielded by Her Vampiric Majesty’s protective magic. They stepped now out of flight and into their human forms as they simpered and swaggered before Medea’s broken body.
“My dear child, I do believe you’re injured,” said Her Vampiric Majesty with mocking concern. “Does it hurt?”
The evil Adept now sloughed away her eagle form to stand before the Vampires in her usual body. “I am beyond pain, you stinking corpse!” she spat.
“I’m so glad. I’d hate to think we’d caused you any discomfort.” The Vampire Queen smiled, revealing glittering fangs that seemed to glow against the deep blood red of her lips. “Oh, but I do believe we’re too late in that respect. We seem to have destroyed your city. Such a shame; where will you direct your invasion from now?”
Medea involuntarily glanced at the fires that were sweeping unchecked throughout Frostmarris, but she quickly rallied and sneered, “Do you really think that mere physical damage can stop myself and Cronus? We’ll have restored all of this within moments.” Then, in a display of her towering talents, she stopped time itself. All around them warriors stood frozen in the acts of fighting, killing and dying, and the flames of the blazing city arced against the sky in solid bursts of static brilliance, as though a sculptor had taken his chisels and carved light itself into abstract forms.
“Yes, but it’s such a distraction having to redirect your powers, don’t you think?” Her Vampiric Majesty said dismissively. “Especially when you’re trying to establish control over a country that just won’t give up fighting.”
Medea laughed with such confidence she almost believed in her own invincibility. “Oh, I can assure you that my powers will hardly notice the tiny effort any restoration will need.”
Her Vampiric Majesty smiled condescendingly. “Has no one ever told you that over-estimation of Abilities is the mark of the inexperienced and deluded?”
Medea raised her hand, releasing time from her psychic grip, and immediately flames flickered and writhed against the smoke-filled sky, and warriors continued their fighting with a frenzy. Then a sudden bellowing and roaring sounded on the air and they all turned to watch as another huge army of Ice Demons materialised in the sky above them.
“I over-estimate nothing, corpse-breath,” Medea snapped in triumph. “Cronus himself has arrived. I suggest you make yourself scarce.”
The Vampire Queen nodded to her squadron, and they immediately began to transform themselves into their bat forms. “Yes, the time has come to go. But I’ll leave you with this small thought: if you and Cronus really are so infallible, why was it so easy for us to trick him into trying to attack us in the Great Forest while we destroyed Frostmarris? Intriguing, isn’t it?”
The Vampires wheeled away, sending out screeches that gathered the rest of the Undead army, and they streamed across the sky back to their stronghold amongst the trees.
Medea watched them go, a small frown creasing her brow.
CHAPTER 26
Thirrin closed the door to her room with a weary sigh. At last she could lock out the world and have a bit of peace and quiet.
“You can lock out most of the world, Thirrin Lindenshield, but I’m afraid I’ll always find my way through,” said a voice from the shadows.
She spun around, drawing her sword with lightning speed to level it between Oskan’s eyes. “Oh, it’s you!”
“Who else were you expecting in your bedchamber? Is there something I should know?”
“Judging by the way you keep reading my mind, you know everything about me anyway.”
“True,” Oskan agreed with a grin.
Thirrin sheathed her sword and walked into the room. “Where were you today, anyway? I could have done with your input; those Senators drone on for hours about nothing in particular; the Gods alone know how they managed to create the biggest empire the world’s ever known.”
“I suspect that had a lot to do with Bellorum, and the fact that he never consulted the Senate about anything unless forced to.”
“You’re probably right,” Thirrin agreed. “And so was Bellorum. Well, I won’t make the same mistake again. From now on all discussions will be restricted to the high command and the best Polypontian officers.”
“What did you finally decide?” Oskan asked, handing her a mug of wine.
“You mean you can’t read what happened directly from my head?”
“Not always; in fact, rarely.”
Thirrin nodded, relieved, but the fact she’d had to ask at all was proof that her husband’s powers had continued to change and grow throughout their married life. “Well, basically we’ve decided to go in pursuit of Erinor,” she finally said, answering Oskan’s earlier question. “There’s no point sitting here in Romula and waiting for her to rebuild her forces. We have the advantage now, and we’ve got to keep it. It’ll be something of a novelty for the Polypontian forces to go on the offensive again; they’ve been fighting a defensive war ever since Erinor first broke out of Artemesion.”
“When do we march?”
“Tomorrow, if Cressida had her way!”
“Of course,” said Oskan with a smile.
“And in three weeks if the Senators had theirs.”
“And in actuality?”
“In four days’ time. Preparations began a while ago anyway. It’s just a matter of completing the process.”
“Fine. Medical supplies are almost replenished. Romula has some superb pharmacies, and some remarkably good doctors.”
Thirrin paused in the act of peeling off layers of chain mail and unbuckling sword belts and daggers. “Doctors? That’s the first time I’ve heard you say anything good about doctors!”
“Yes, well, the Imperial medics are different to the charlatans and quacks that plague the Icemark. I’ve taken the opportunity to study some of the medical treatises in the university libraries and they’re astonishingly good. But, interestingly, most of them aren’t Polypontian; they’re Hellenic, and incredibly ancient.”
Thirrin shrugged. “Unfortunately there’s no time for studying now, my fine scholar. I’ve got a war to fight, and you’ve got to repair the damage inflicted on my warriors. You’ll have to wait ’til after the fighting.”
“And, talking of which, will we win?” Oskan asked quietly as he began to extinguish some of the candles and torches around the room.
Thirrin fell back onto the bed with a relieved sigh as the last of her armour fell
with a clatter to the marble floor. “I don’t know,” she answered in matter-of-fact tones. “It was a hard-fought struggle last time, and Erinor wasn’t even in command then. Who knows what the outcome will be when she’s directing operations?”
“I see. And where is she now?”
“Four days’ march south of here, and according to the Vampire scouts she’s sending out messengers to Artemesion.”
“For reinforcements?”
“Yes. The Vampires captured one of them and brought the papers back. It didn’t take Grishmak long to get a prisoner to translate them.”
“Can there be any warriors left in Artemesion? I thought the Hordes were an entire nation on the march!”
“So did I,” Thirrin replied from the depths of her nightgown as she wrestled her way into it. “But it seems Erinor’s expecting thousands to answer her call. That’s why we must hit her as soon as possible, before they arrive.” She climbed into the huge bed that occupied the centre of the room, and snuggled down under the sumptuous covers of silk and fur from where she smiled at her husband. “Hurry up and get in. My feet are freezing!”
“I’m nothing but a glorified hot-water bottle to you, am I?” Oskan answered, as he extinguished the rest of the candles.
“Well, that’s your main function, I suppose. But you do have other uses too.”
“So glad to hear it.”
Thirrin became serious again as she thought through the difficulties facing her and the army. “At least we have no problems about leaving a garrison in Romula, or organising administration. The palace guard already carry out garrison duties and the Senate’s been the government for literally hundreds of years.”
“But you’re still not completely happy,” said Oskan, climbing into bed.
“No. Things are too quiet.”
“Quiet? Excuse me, but did the battle for Romula pass you by?”
“No, it didn’t. But I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps other things have.”