Beyond the Hell Cliffs (53 page)

“We have evidence, witnesses… even a body!”

“What are you talking about, Tiberius?” Helfrick asked.  “Who attacked these villages?”

“The Greimere.”

Helfrick
snorted.  In his wretched state, it was not too far-fetched that his mind was slipping from him and he worried that the slightest word, the slightest movement might yank back the words Tiberius just said and what they meant for him.

“Did you hear me, Helfrick?”  Tiberius was actually being chummy with his king, addressing him informally.  “Your kingdom needs you again.”

“Tiberius, you dog,” Helfrick breathed out, catching the man’s excitement.  “Did you…?  What kind of trick have you pulled?”

“There is no trick, my lord.  I have only just learned of this myself and I came straight to you with the information.  None outside of the Spring Guard and my detachment know of this as of yet.”

“Wait, what are you saying?  You had no hand in this?  If you did not strike up a deal with…?”

Tiberius cut him off, looking around cautiously.  “My
lord, the Greimere are attacking our settlements in the south… completely unprovoked.  These are signs of an actual invasion.”

“They’re coming at us for real,” Helfrick replied, turning back towards the doors to the Assembly Hall.  “This threat will never be vanquished… and we need to make sure of that.”

Helfrick burst back through the doors of the Assembly Hall, Tiberius on his heels.

“Members of this Gathering, I have news of a national emergency.”

“My lord, we thought you had dismissed yourself and we have moved on without you…” Herod began to say.

“Shut up and listen, Sage!” Helfrick commanded, ignoring the formalities of addressing him by title.  “General Tiberius is back from the Wilderness, where he has seen first-hand the devastation wrought by a new Invasion!
The Greimere have rallied and are at our throats once more!”

“Impossible!” Otho yelled.  “We were told that the Empire was annihilated by the man standing next to you.  General Tiberius, you swore to us that the Greimere were defeated!  What news is this, then?”

“We sieged their Citadel, brought its walls down around them and executed their Empress before their eyes,” Tiberius answered.  “The Empire was destroyed and its people were sent off into the wastelands.  I simply underestimated their resilience.”

“You killed their leader in front of them
and destroyed their home,” Gaius repeated.  “General, you are talking about the Greimere.  As vile as they are, this is a nation that has endured centuries of defeat at our hands and
always
comes back, every generation, as if they knew nothing other than slaughter and death… and you underestimated their resilience?”

“You act as if you admire these butchers, Gaius,” Tiberius replied.  “Being too stupid to know defeat does not make them determined; it makes them thoughtless beasts.”

“The threat of Invasion is upon us, gentlemen and lady,” Helfrick announced, looking over at his daughter.  “Now is not the time for a change of command.  I will lead the kingdom through this time of peril, as is my charge, and then step down once the menace is over.”

“Not good enough,”
Herod hissed.  “We cannot be sure that this threat is as great as other invasions.  It has not even been ten years since Tiberius brought back word of the Empire’s defeat.  Is there any evidence to show that this is anything more than a band of vengeful idiots roving about the Wilderness?”

“Why risk it?” General Regulus asked.  “Even if it is just a small raid, it could signify something worse.  Helfrick is right.  Now is not the time to change the leadership of this kingdom.  The people will already be frightened that such an attack can happen so swiftly after the apparent defeat of the Empire.  They do not need a new Senate at a time like this.  They need their hero King to lead them against the forces of darkness!”

“Yes, I agree” Otho said.  “We all heard the king; he will step down once the threat is over.  For now, we must trust him, as we have always done… and make sure that this time, the Greimere demons are wiped from the land!”

“Genocide!” one of the other members yelled and others nodded in agreement.

Helfrick nodded dutifully, but flashed smiling eyes at Chief Councilor Herod. 
Not today, Sage,
he thought.

Chapter 52

For the second time in his life, Tiberius stood before the walls of the Citadel
.  His army had a much easier time reaching it than they had before.  They were more confident, hauling their Witzer cannon across the desert and daring anything to attack them.  Nothing did.  Even the creatures in the night that had plagued them before were noticeably absent.

Tiberius had begun to doubt himself as they travelled onward through the Greimere.  There were no signs of settlement, no pockets of creepy black creatures hauling their packs around and fleeing before the shiny army pressing onward.  The land was devoid of any life.  Even the outposts that he had plowed under days away from the Citadel ten years ago were still in ruin, stripped clean of any resources and left like a carcass of rocks and debris.

After two weeks, he arrived at the Citadel and was relieved to find it occupied with Rathgar.  Alerted guards ran across the tops of the reconstructed walls and the sound of battle horns went up from inside.  Then the massive doors of the northern gate, now reinforced with heavy iron to ward against the Witzer cannon, began to close.

Colonel Aetius began laughing.  “Are those doors swinging… towards us?”

Tiberius frowned and nudged the jolly colonel.  “Stop laughing.  This is pathetic.  That damned Councilor was right; there is no real threat here.  These are the pitiful survivors of our last attack… too stupid to hang a defensive door on the outside.”

“Well, that iron will prove a chore for the Witzer,” Colonel Aetius said, stifling his laughter.  “We could always shoot the walls down around it, but… Hell, why don’t we just push our way in?”

“Excellent idea!” Tiberius said, astonishing his subordinate.  The Colonel probably thought that he was being rash or cocky, but the truth was that he did not want to destroy the Citadel again.

He was not in
the Greimere to slaughter all of the inhabitants.  He had been commanded to enforce genocide, but the idiotic members of the Gathering had not specified who was to be erased.  Another meeting had been called, among those who knew of the Treaty.  All of them, save the king, were present with Tiberius on that field; all there to assist him in enacting a new deal with the denizens of Greimere.

Through the centuries, Rellizbix had molded the Greimere army into a suitable enemy for them, eventually making it so that only the Rathgar would wage war in
Rellizbix.  During his last attack on the Citadel, Tiberius confirmed the reports from other ambassadors, filed in the secret Caelum Family Vault, that the Rathgar had complete rule over the other races.  Thus the plan to exterminate the Rathgar and place a new race into power was formed.

The siege force Tiberius brought into the Greimere was composed of the 9
th
Regiment, who were off patrol in the Wilderness at the time, and his own 1
st
Regiment.  Five companies of soldiers, hunters and mages from the Royal Guard were given more information on the Greimere than most scholars could ever learn on their own and tasked with following his commands without question inside the Citadel.  Once they had killed every Rathgar and ensured that their entire race was gone, Tiberius would strike up a new Treaty with either the dark-skinned, long-eared people or the bestial, fur-collared people.

Tiberius fully expected one of those races to eagerly comply with the Treaty.  Why wouldn’t they?  After generations of being underneath the boot of the Rathgar, they would finally be elevated to the level of kings, given all the goods and perks that had allowed the Rathgar to subjugate them.  They would be given power, but most of all, they would be allowed to live and Tiberius would make it clear that he could end their existence just as easily as the Rathgar, should they not uphold their end of the deal.

“Colonel, I leave the Summer Guard to you, to hold your position just outside the range of any archers.  I will take my brigade from the Royal Guard and assault the inside of the Citadel before they can get those doors closed!”

“Gen
eral, wait!  Are you serious?” the Colonel called out.

Tiberius ignored him, spurring his horse into a gallop across the valley towards the doors.  His men were right behind him, the entire unit mounted on horses or warbirds.
  Arrows rained down towards them, but the Rathgar atop the walls had poor aim.  The hunters returned fire with their superior bows, sending arrows up to the top of the wall and driving the guards into cover.

Tiberius reached the doors just before they could be shut all the way.  Tiberius could not help but roll his eyes as he saw the wide-eyed barbarians trying to push the door closed from the inside. 
What kind of rot-brained lunatic hinges the doors on the inside?  Were they trying to make it so they could close them without venturing outside the Citadel?  I will have to teach the new owners a bit more about warring before I leave.  Maybe I should even leave Ubrith here to oversee the reconstruction.

The attack brigade followed Tiberius through the small opening and turned to dispatch the few guards on the other side, halting the progress of the doors.  Hunters loosed their arrows into the onco
ming defenders as the mages unleashed their magic.

The battle was short-lived; much shorter than Tiberius had expected.  It seemed as if all of the guards were already at the
north gate; as if they had been expecting an attack from Rellizbix well before he had arrived.  To each side were collapsed buildings and improvised barricades.  It was a choke point, designed to prevent them from flanking the army of guards coming down the barrel for them.

Tiberius smiled. 
Thank the Fates!  They do have some fight in them!

“Shieldbearers, to the front!” he cried, pointing his sword toward the wave of armored Rathgar sweeping down on them.  “They think to bottle us up!  We’ll hold them here! 
Hunters, provide covering fire!  Flame mages, stand down!  This rubble is like dry kindling!”

Despite the advantage of the artificial corridor and a planned defense, the Rathgar were overwhelmed by the men of the Royal Guard.  The shieldbearers stopped their advance, clustering them in their own trap as Aerial and Terrestrial mages tore through them with magic.

As they pushed past the dead guards and onward through the corridor of rubble, they came upon an odd sight.

Before them stood an older Rathgar dressed in ceremonial robes that resembled those worn by the Faeir Stone Seers.  It was black and dark blue and adorned with symbols
stitched into the fabric.  The Rathgar stood atop a pile of golden wares, emberstones, ornaments and grains; all things that the Empire had received from Rellizbix over the centuries.  It looked like everything they had left over from the last assault.  There were no other guards around, all dead or dying.  It took a moment, but Tiberius recognized the Rathgar.  He was the grizzled general he had faced off against the first time he invaded the Greimere; the one he forced to watch as the Empress was executed.  He did not make a move to attack or retreat; he simply stood there staring at Tiberius.

“Can you hear me
… Saban?” the Rathgar asked in the native Rellizbix language.

Tiberius looked around and over to the interpreter he had replaced Malthus with, a young Faier named Kleitos.  The mage shrugged his shoulders, just as confused as the rest of them.

Tiberius turned back to the Rathgar.  “Yes.”

The Rathgar paused, as if he were unsure what the answer meant.  Then he spoke again.  “I remember… you kill Empress. 
Kalystra… her name, Saban.”

Tiberius looked around, wondering how this Rathgar had learned to speak Saban words.  It was clear that someone had taught him specific words to
remember, by the way the old robed figure spat them out so clumsily.  Other soldiers laughed, amused by the Rathgar’s accent.

“Whoever is out there, just come out and fight me like a man!” Tiberius shouted.

“I have words for you… from Grass-hair!” the old Rathgar shouted, his voice shaking with rage.

Tiberius snapped his eyes back to the Rathgar.
  Had he heard the man correctly?  Was he talking about the bastard?  Tiberius felt his heart drop.  This Rathgar knew his language and if he was talking about words from “Grass-hair” then Raegith must still be alive… and was responsible for the resistance they found inside the Citadel.

“All these things… given to us by you!” the Rathgar shouted.  “We need it no more!”

“Somebody shut him up!” Tiberius shouted, pointing his sword at the man.

In an instant, a dozen arrows zipped past him and sunk into the Rathgar’s chest.  He faltered, his eyes bulging with the pain and he looked down at the feathered shafts protruding from his body.

Then he looked up with a bloody smile and laughed.  Like a lunatic, he howled and shook with laughter as blood soaked through his robes.  Somewhere in the laughter, he said something in the Rathgar tongue and then dropped to his knees.  He slapped his bloody hands onto the ground and suddenly a circle of dark pink light flared to life.  Lines branched out from the circle around the Rathgar and hit barrels to either side of him.

The barrels exploded in metal shards, shredding through the armor of the closest soldiers and sending up gouts of flame around them.  The flames ignited the lines of rubble on either side of them with unnatural speed.  Explosions rocked the brigade on its flanks and men screamed in agony and confusion.  In seconds Tiberius and his men were surrounded by walls of green fire to the front and sides.

“About face!” Tiberius roared, turning his mount around.  “Back through the gate!  Retreat!”

The men were stunned and overwhelmed, but they were well-trained and knew to follow orders under stress.  They turned and made for the gate, running through the artificial corridor
as emerald death licked at them.  Tiberius urged them forward, yelling and kicking men into a sprint.

Suddenly he ran into the back of a mounted soldier and was nearly thrown off his horse.

“Keep moving!” he screamed.  Then he looked up through the smoke and his breath caught.

The
backside of the gate doors had neither handle nor brackets for a brace and were grinded smooth.  Only a small line down the center, barely wide enough to wedge a fingernail, marked where the two iron slabs came together perfectly. 

“Those fu
cking idiots and their backward doors!” one of his sergeants yelled, running forward to try and get his fingers between the gap.

“We’re the fools.”  Ubrith was beside Tiberius, his left arm destroyed below the elbow and black charring along his face.  “Those doors weren’t designed to keep us out, General.  They were made to keep us in.”

“It’s that bastard, Raegith!” Tiberius growled, caring little for subtlety at that moment.  “This is his doing!”

“Raegith?
  The king’s son?  The one whose death we came down here to avenge?”

“He didn’t die, Ubrith,” Tiberius confessed.  “He survived; kept alive by the last Empress.  By the time I learned of it, we had already sacked the Empire and for all we knew he had died in the attack or outside the walls.  I could never have imagined that he could survive down here or that he was capable of turning on his own people like this!
  That Empress bitch must have done something to him!”

“The half-Twileen bastard of Helfrick Caelum… survives for ten years in the worst hellhole in the land
,” Ubrith said, bursting into laughter.

“What the hell is so funny?”

“We have revered the Caelum line as the strongest, most enduring line of Sabans since the dawn of the kingdom.  The Heir of Throm Caelum has always been there to save us from the invaders from beyond the cliffs with near-mythological strength and leadership,” Ubrith cackled.  “How arrogant were we to think that we could stop such a powerful bloodline just because it was tainted by a Twileen whore?  Mark my words, Tiberius… this will be the most terrifying enemy our people have ever known.”

Tiberius scowled at the old hunter as he swayed unsteadily in his saddle.

“It is what we deserve…” he whispered before sliding off of the horse and onto the ground.

“Damn that boy!” Tiberius cried, looking around for a way out of the trap Raegith had set for him.  The smoke was rising above the walls and the explosions were deafening.  “Why is the 9
th
not blasting through the walls?  Can they not see us?”

“General, over here!
  Quickly!”

Tiberius followed the sound of the voice and saw a cloaked hunter on the other side of the barricade.  The hunter’s hood was up and he looked like he was using a rag to keep from breathing the smoke.  He was waving his arms frantically towards what looked like a hole in the wall.

“There’s a breach in the wall!  Get through the barricade here and follow me!  Hurry!”

“Men, on me!”
Tiberius yelled, pushing his horse through the mob and over the low spot in the barricade.  He heard others following him, but he did not look back to make sure.  He saw the cloaked hunter disappear through the hole in the wall and outside the Citadel.  The hole was just large enough for a man and he was forced to abandon his mount in the growing inferno in order to escape.