Chapter 10 - Part 3

Three was the number of the longboats. They could each comfortably hold eight men and provisions, but these were stuffed with at least ten apiece. In each longboat were six or seven men whose feet were in chains that all connected to one another. They rowed steadily, in time with a sergeant who chanted softly. Crossbows were pointed at them, and three times they were reminded that their only hope for a pardon lay in valor on the battlefield. The men obeyed like zombies, their skin pale from confinement in the brig. They wore studded leather armor, and had soft helmets on their shaven heads. The helmet’s forehead section had been removed, to show the brands the men bore. Some said ‘thief,’ some said ‘deserter,’ and one said ‘rapist.’ These men were the reject squad. They would dig ditches, latrines, fight the first wave of the enemy, and generally die. Regular soldiers could count on extraction and medical care. These soldiers could not, for the crown had ordered them punished.

None spoke. To attract attention was to attract pain.

One boat had an unusual number, for it included the heavily robed and veiled woman from House Cannith whose five hundred warforged were making the operation possible. The rejects had heard her name, and been told not to speak to her unless she spoke to them first. An exotic and odd sight she was. She was no longer hiding her giant metal hand, and they could clearly see metallic plates covering half of her face. One eye appeared to be almost surrounded by mithril and darkwood.

Beside her sat two things the size of dogs, almost monkey-like, made of some artificial leather and wood. They drooled and snapped, but were nimble with long claws. From time to time she would caress them with her flesh hand. The man-dog things had rough and warty ‘skin,’ and a mouth of needlelike teeth. They pranced atop a chest that moved of its own accord, with shifting legs and an arm that occasionally poked about in its insides, a place of small compartments and many dangerous vials. To he other side of the lady was something that appeared to be a carved, animated crossbow with a face and arms. The lady sometimes smiled at her toys, sometimes stroked a bag of things that she wore like a satchel on one shoulder, and sometimes licked her lips to some sensation that only she could perceive, but her gaze always returned to the distant beach.

“Crouch down!” snapped the lieutenant. He was a cocky man, standing a bit short for a human, and always trying to bully the men in order to make up for it. “We are within sight of the beach!”

“No we’re not,” Lo’Paih laughed. She took out a wand and the end of it glowed as she spoke in the elemental language of air. A great fog rose out of the sea and surrounded them. One side of the fog flickered with an interior blue light. “Follow the blue to get to the beach,” commanded the woman whose flesh had been partially replaced with construct parts.

“How dare you!” yelled the lieutenant, striding over to her. “You’re out of line, and I will not have –”

“Now,” Lo’Paih said, grabbing the man’s head swiftly with her oversized metal fist.

The two constructed dog-men sprouted hidden wings, and flew to the right and left, each taking a ship. The moving clockwork bow fired. The chest shifted, ready to throw a flask of acid should it prove to be necessary. As Lo’Paih shoved downwards, holding the lieutenant’s head under water, her constructs quickly and efficiently murdered every Aundarian who was not a reject. The officers in charge of the rejects tried to fight, but they were caught by surprise, and the teeth of the dog-men held a potent poison that made them drugged and unable to resist.

“Do you enjoy your lot in life?” Lo’Paih asked as the lieutenant finally stopped kicking. She did not pick his head up, though.

The rejects stared at her, not saying anything.

She looked at the one closest to her. He was a man with scars around his face, where he had sustained a terrible beating at one time. The brand on his forehead proclaimed him a deserter. He looked back at her, meeting her gaze with no small fear, but not dropping his eyes.

“What is your name, hm?” she asked. She finally let the lieutenant go, and he fell into the water with a soft splash. She stroked his cheek, and he finally flinched, pulling back from the metal hand. “Your name?”

“Jak,” the reject told her.

“Why did you desert, Jak?” she asked him.

“I don’t believe in the war,” he said simply.

“Would you work for Cannith then, Jak?” Every other reject was listening to the exchange keenly.

“I’ve already worked for one dragonmarked house,” Jak said bitterly. “They couldn’t protect me from Aundair’s long arm. Am I supposed to believe that you can? Or that you even want to?”

The woman began to laugh. She snapped her fingers, and the flying constructs searched the bodies of the dead sergeants, finding the keys. They began unlocking the chains and manacles that held the reject squadron in place. Murmurs of appreciation rose up as men rubbed their wrists and ankles.

Jak did not rub. He merely looked at her.

“Which House left you, abandoned you, and treated you so?” she asked him.

“Lyrandar,” he said.

“And you don’t want to work for Cannith?” she asked.

“Do you want me to lie to you?” His voice was even, no longer afraid. He sounded merely resigned.

“How about working for me then?” she asked.

“How about we swim for shore and wish you the best?” laughed one man on the boat to her left.

She pointed, and the animated crossbow fired itself. The man gurgled as the bolt slammed into his chest. The flying constructs grabbed his dying body and threw him into the sea. He did not splash for long.

She had everyone’s attention now.

“Jak will be your sergeant,” she smiled. “My second-in-command. You will all serve me until the sun sets, and then survivors get a handful of gold, a bag of food, and the freedom to go where they wish. Those who want to remain in my service and enjoy my protection may also do so. But until sundown, whoever disobeys, seems to disobey, or even thinks of disobeying, dies instantly.” She lowerd her veil now, and pulled back her disguising robes. They settled in place, and her gruesome surgeries were revealed. “I am more than mortal now. I have power that I have paid for. I can reward and punish. If you are with me, say you are with me.” The animated crossbow swiveled, pointing dangerously.

“We are with you!” they shouted as one.

Jak stared at her, saying nothing. The crossbow pointed at him. “Well?” she asked.

“I will declare myself with you, when I know what you want me to do,” he said.

She began to laugh so hard that tears came out of the eye not surrounded my construct pieces. The two flying dog-things laughed with her, barking sounds that shook their warts.

“You are all going to be heroes!” she said when she finally was able to stop laughing. “You are going to rescue Merylsward!”