The Lengthening Shadow
Chapter 20: Mystery Deaths

The wind howled outside the tents. Samuel had received word via Swoop that there was three days left. He woke Tarsch and showed him the letter. The ferret was not very surprised. “I knew this would happen sooner or later. We must replace Vi’lle and reach Deadbeast Bluff before the three days are up! Samuel, get Morgan to rouse the camp. If Ra’vok rises, these mountains will be a death trap. I know where he is, a day’s journey east in a small hill. Can we get back to Fernwood in two days?”

“Aye, sir. I’ve been this way a few times before. We can reach Fernwood in a day, and the Bluff in another day. We’ll be just in time, if nothing goes wrong.”

Tarsch doubted that nothing would go wrong, if the fate of the world depended on it.

The gates of Thazanc were open again. Five hundred soldiers marched out to the aid of the Bluff, led by the newly returned Captain Rivenhand. On the orders of Ra’vok, under Thazancian Law number 3024 paragraph A section C, any returning captain got command. The army was comprised mainly of rank-and-file Thazancians, with a few engineers, several regiments of the fang-helmed Elites, and Wyrms hauling a grendana, a huge double catapult that hurled fireballs and explosives. Rivenhand and the army took the route directly southwards, over the Acar Dûrka and through Nortpoint. At the rate they were marching, the force would be there in two days.

A council had been called to discuss the events of the next few days. Neams, Smake, a Souleater, and one General Blueclaw had all come from their posts to conference. Smake went first. “If we sacrifice the cat in time for the Black Master to return, what then? What happens if they resist the inevitable?”

They won’t. If the Black Master rises, all kingdoms will fall before his might. If any resist, they will be crushed. A new order will rise to control all. We have already bought the Novas Glinger and Jenaian, and Nova Kibliar is coming to us. Nothing can resist the pull of diamarnd.

Blueclaw got up and walked around the table. “You’re right,” the weasel replied, “When Kibliar and his meager holding of Borderton turn, as Hlarville and Vindar already have, we can press in with no resistance. Glinger and Jenaian have already been registered as Thazancian officers, leading the Acar Mort troops to finish that stupid mouse Samuel.”

Smake spat on the floor. “Wyrm’s blood! I wish I could kill him myself!” Neams could not resist a comment. “You do, don’t you, oh Great One who was beaten singlehandedly by a puny mouse?” The ferret without a conscience glared daggers at the other officer. “If ugliness could kill, all of us would be slain by you, you piece of Wyrm droppings!” Blueclaw slammed his knife into the iron table. “Enough! Break it up, you two, break it up. Listen, we can’t be fightin’ among ourselves.”

He’s right, that weasel. Listen, all of you. We can just sit easy now. That mouse will die, no one will save the cat, and the Black Master will rise to kill all of our enemies, and we will all get a share of the spoils. Do you agree?

All of them nodded, and they got up and left the room. The victory of Thazanc seemed certain, but if Samuel succeeded, it would not be certain enough for domination.

“Attention, all volunteers! Line up in ranks of ten, weapons at the ready!” Thayder the otter walked up and down the line of soldiers, inspecting their spears and chainmail. Fifty had prepared for a march on the Bluff, to save their King. Thayder was leading, with Silderon keeping Fernwood safe. The party still had to prepare for the rest of the afternoon, marching right after lunch. Silderon had informed them all about the creatures’ horrific melting poison, deterring none. Everybeast was fully willing to fight and die for the rescue, no matter what the outcome.

However, news had come from the northern towns that several Novas (a Nova is a Certarian lord) had been bought by Thazanc, and Borderton’s was leaning towards the money. Silderon was not prepared. “What treachery! How could Glinger side with evil? I have known him since we were young! If they have truly turned, we cannot trust the North to aid us, with the exception of Wheatlock, King’s Hill, and Melgo.” He scribbled a note on a piece of parchment and handed it to the messenger sparrow. “Give this to Dresdin. Tell him to prepare. Wheatlock must hold if all others fall.” The mouse turned back to the castle while the otter headed the force southwards. Thayder walked backwards, inspecting. “Spears straight! Faces forward! March at a pace of three hundred steps a minute!”

That night, while great things were going on south and north, Yanna the guard woke with a start. Something was moving just inside the shadows of the East Wall. He blinked. There was nothing there. His imagination was just playing tricks on him! Wait, there it went again, a large shape in the blackness. Yanna stepped quietly down the stairs and into the courtyard. The vole peered out again. Nothing there. He was just about to return to his post when it came nearer. Yanna slung his rifle off his back. “Who’s there?” he called. “Anyone there?” The shape came nearer… and suddenly disappeared! He shook the gun at the place where it vanished.

He felt a movement behind him. Yanna turned, saw the shape, and let loose with a volley of shots. It came nearer, close enough so that Yanna could see its eyes and smell its foul breath. He shot it point-blank between the eyes, but the bullet bounced off. Then came the sting. It was the most terrible pain imaginable, even worse when the large pincers came out of the darkness and closed around the vole’s arms. His legs started melting as his arms were ripped off in a spray of blood and tissue and pain and blackness. The last moments of his life were spent in nightmarish agony.

On the North Wall, another guard heard the shots. It was Kannamara, brother of the recently slain Killstin. He hurried over to Yanna’s position, replaceing nothing but blood and an empty rifle. There was a soft clicking noise coming from behind him. He turned. “Who’z there?” the lizard called. The clicking drew nearer…

The next morning, Fernwood awoke to a bloody scene. Thirteen guards were missing, and their rifles discovered in pools of dark blood. All knights were set on alert. Yanna, Kannamara, the newt Smalder, and ten others had been killed by the mysterious intruders.

Later that morning, Svarnal the mouse was on a foraging party when they struck again!

Svarnal was out looking for roots when the order came to split up for more efficiency. He obediently walked off towards a large grove of trees, until a scream split the air, from the direction of some foragers. He ran over, replaceing discarded, bloodstained sacks, but no sign of the party. More screams rang out, with the same result. As Svarnal saw what was slowly sucking up the small puddle of melted animal, he too shrieked in terror. The sting and pincers came quickly, followed by excruciating pain, blackness, and death. When no foragers returned, Silderon was at his wits’ end.

If Fernwood kept losing soldiers, there would be no defense against Thazanc and its formidable army. Besides, there were only two days left to save Jake.

Silderon sent messages far and wide, begging for aid. Wheatlock was defending the hills taken by Marigold and Tomhas against an army of Valakundir in the service of Glimroft. Melgo and Arvand had to cope with a fleet of Thazancian ships that had come down from ports north of Karkna Isle and through the Lar-Reftawle Strait to the Port of Arvand. The only one left was King’s Hill, which still held the crossings of the Nailúmó River. The turncoat Nova Glinger had come from his city with a large force to slow Samuel, and maybe decide the fate of the world.

Right then, the morning of the second day, Silderon received more news. The calendar had been wrong, giving Samuel just one more day; three days still. However, Glinger had just come over Nailúmó and into the foothills of the Acar Mort. With a force of three hundred against Samuel’s fifty, they were outnumbered six to one, against Thazancian soldiers. Rivenhand was just a day and a half from Deadbeast Bluff, with five hundred at his back.

Two more searchers had fallen victim to the killers, half a mile from Fernwood’s gates. Glinger’s scouts had pinpointed the company’s position, three miles east of Ecer Uigorond, close to the foothills. The treacherous jackal smiled evilly. “Belan, get the force in two groups. Killcat, organize all gunbeasts and the grendana. Taktor, form up the ranks and the order of weapon rows. They. Are. Dead.”