Nicci had endured poisons before, but she did not wish to test this, especially when she was already weak after her ordeal in the sliph. “I need to regain my strength, not diminish it. If the sliph does not respond to my summons, then I will have an arduous journey ahead of me?.?.?.?if I can find my way back.”
“We know where Ildakar is,” Cora said. “We can show you the mountains and the passes and how to get there. I am even familiar with these cities on the coast that you call Serrimundi and Tanimura, though our records are ancient.”
“How can you know about the coast if you have never left this city?” Nicci asked. “Orogang has been cut off for centuries.”
The old woman gave a mysterious smile. “That doesn’t mean we have forgotten.”
Leaving the fungus chamber, Cora led her and the others into an enclosed wing aboveground that connected to another grand building. They entered a speaking chamber with tiers of empty benches and a great open area for lectures on the floor. It was a place where Nicci could imagine shouting sessions and political debates.
On the floor stood a solid table on legs as wide as tree trunks. The table held a large, immaculately detailed relief map of the Old World sculpted out of clay and painted with natural colors. It was as if someone had shrunk down the actual mountains, valleys, and rivers of the Old World to fit there.
Bright lanterns rested on the four corners of the massive table, like suns shining down on the terrain. Previously, Nicci had seen only small swatches of the Old World marked on maps, but this three-dimensional representation encompassed the entirety of the Old World, from the coastline to the mountains and beyond.
Cora stretched out her arm and touched a bowl in the craggy mountains surrounded by difficult passes but connected by the fine lines of well-traveled imperial roads. “This is Orogang, the center of Iron Fang’s great empire.”
The old woman traced her fingertips along mountain ridges, following the roads south, plunging down into drainages and wider valleys as converging streams formed the headwaters of the Killraven River, which led south to another prominent city, Ildakar. From there, the river rolled along until it reached a widening estuary that spilled into the sea. Finding Ildakar, Nicci retraced the path that she, Nathan, and Bannon had traveled over the high pass of Kol Adair, back to the desert canyons that hid Cliffwall, and westward over more ridges to the sea and Renda Bay. She followed the coastline to the north, saw numerous shoreline cities all the way up to Serrimundi and Tanimura.
“This map was created long ago by order of Emperor Kurgan. He wanted to know the whole world, because he commanded General Utros to conquer the whole world.”
“And General Utros will return someday,” said Cyrus, who stood utterly confident, his pale chin thrust forward. “Remember the old prophecy! We have been waiting for so long, though he is surely long dead.?.?.?.”
Nicci surprised them. “Oh, General Utros still lives. He and his giant army were turned to stone for centuries by the wizards of Ildakar, but now they have awakened.” Cyrus looked astonished by the news, but she cautioned him, “Hear me, he is no savior. Even though Iron Fang is long dead, Utros means to conquer the Old World for himself. Do not expect him to be your hero.”
“We have had legends for generation after generation.” Cyrus stiffened, squared his shoulders. “He is a great man. The prophecy tells us he is coming back for us.”
“You might have legends, but I have confronted the man myself. I know how much destruction his army will cause, how many people will die because of his ambition. You should fear him, not hope for his return.”
Cyrus scoffed, “I will believe what I wish to believe.”
Beside Nicci, Cora adjusted her gray cloak. “I would not put too much stock in legends or supposed prophecies, Cyrus. Your people have held on to a vain hope for too long. Remember, we also know silly tales about Iron Fang, myths that portray Kurgan as a brave and noble emperor, and he was certainly not worthy of legends or hope. How do you know General Utros is worthy?”
“Because I know,” Cyrus said with rising defiance. His gray eyes showed no interest in the truth. “I believe the prophecy.”
Nicci had seen the same blank and intolerant expression many times in the followers of the Imperial Order. She, too, had believed in their teachings and refused to consider that she herself might have been deluded, that she might have been wrong. Not until Richard?.?.?.
“I know the truth as well,” Nicci said, “whether or not you believe it.”
CHAPTER 14
The huge army moved out, more than a hundred thousand soldiers along with countless cooks, carpenters, leatherworkers, swordsmiths, horse handlers, and craftsmen. Each man was responsible for his own armor, his own weapons, his own boots. He had to mend his cloak, build a fire, chop wood, dig latrines. The military force was an enormous city on the move in search of conquest.
The first divisions moved out at sunrise. They marched across the valley away from the blank space that had been Ildakar, heading toward the foothills and the mountains farther west. Second Commanders Halders and Arros mounted their warhorses and rode at the head of large companies that fell naturally into ranks.
General Utros watched from his command pavilion with Ava and Ruva hovering beside him. He was pleased that the war had actually begun again. “My army is like a great boulder on a hillside. It needs a push to start it rolling, but then it will crash downhill, unstoppable, destroying everything in its way.” The golden mask hid half of his smile. “I will be the unstoppable force that crushes the Old World into submission.”
Ava looked up at him as if she were entranced by a glamour spell. “What about King Grieve? Will you not share the land with the Norukai?”
“They are barely more than animals. Let us see how many Norukai survive after the war is won.”
With a rumble of hoofbeats, boots, and creaking wagon wheels, the army moved west toward the foothills, raising clouds of dust and ash across the burned valley floor. The soldiers had eaten all the confiscated supplies, so each man went to bed with food in his belly and few questions. They would march until General Utros told them otherwise.
He had dispatched six more expeditionary armies, each with two thousand men, to head off in different directions, seeking cities to plunder and stockpiles to raid in his name. Thus, Utros increased the size of his invasion and also decreased the number of mouths he had to feed by twelve thousand. Meanwhile, his primary force headed relentlessly over the mountains.
Knowing the situation, First Commander Enoch sat grimly in his saddle as he rode up. He looked down at General Utros and the two sorceresses, who stood together outside the command pavilion. As the remaining companies formed ranks to move out, the pavilion would be broken down and packed into supply wagons. Utros and the twins would mount up and follow the main army.
“Your soldiers are determined now, General, and they will focus on the march,” Enoch said. “But before long they will think about their sore feet and the discomfort of a rough camp. The day after that, they will think only about how hungry they are and worse, how hungry they are going to get.” He scratched a thin white scar on his cheek. “They revere you, sir, I have no doubt of that, but the pang of an empty belly for long enough may break even the greatest loyalty.”
“I know the costs of loyalty.” Utros thought of what Iron Fang had told him after discovering his affair with Empress Majel. Loyalty is greater than love. After her grisly execution in the real world, sweet Majel’s spirit had been tortured for centuries in the underworld, browbeaten and broken by her abusive husband’s dominant spirit.
Loyalty is greater than love.
“I will raid any town and dispense all supplies to my soldiers,” Utros said. “I don’t know any other way to feed them.”
Ruva spoke in a whisper as they watched the army plod toward the foothills. “My sister and I have a way to sustain them, beloved Utros. A dangerous spell. We will have to do it in secret, because the m
en will not like it, now that they’ve been restored to flesh and blood. But without our help, your army will crumble and the soldiers will die.”
A breeze stirred the heavy fabric of the pavilion, blowing dust past them. “How will you do it?” Utros asked.
Ava said, “My sister and I know a spell that can reduce the body’s need, slow and numb their appetites, change their metabolism so they will keep going, although it will not last. They will be digesting themselves.”
“The spell will also work on the functioning of their bodies,” Ruva added. “They will be able to eat anything, digest anything—grasses, trees, bones, whatever nourishment they find. The army will be like a swarm of locusts, stripping the land bare.”
“But surviving,” Ava pointed out.
When Enoch’s brow furrowed, his many scars looked like twitching worms. “It sounds like a demeaning thing.”
“If they starve and drop dead, they are no good to my war,” the general said.
“If they do collapse and fall dead on the march,” Ava said with a smile, “then thanks to this spell, the others can eat their bodies and gain even more strength.”
