Chapter 9 - Part 10

“All hands, standby,” called the deck officer. Behind him the two artificers on the lead ship were using the last of their scrolls to maintain the fog. The ‘proper’ wizards who were lining up on deck under the eye of Herschem Banekert did not join in the illusion spells. They had prepared other magical incantations, ones designed to bring about death and destruction.

“MiLord,” Herschem called out. “My team is ready.” The ten minor wizards who were assembled before Herschem saluted.

Lord Ibraim ir’Wynarn nodded, and he turned to Kleris. “The troop ships?”

Kleris Zenden blew a whistle once, then twice, then once again. The troop ships had already lined up next to one another, their decks and sides covered with warforged. Built to carry one hundred humanoid soldiers, they all had over one hundred and sixty warforged, using the space not needed for provisions to cram the rest in. Now they were out, their greatswords strapped to their backs, and a belt around their waists holding rope and grapnel, along with a spare javelin or dagger, or some other item. The warforged were by and large identical, with bodies thickened by ironwood, and metal faces devoid of expression. At Kleris’ final blast, the warforged began to jump into the sea in lines. Great splashes went up as warforged officers, designated by one or two red stripes on their arms, called out unit numbers.

“We are just within sight of the coast, MiLord,” Kleris explained. “If they notice our fog, we are but still a curious anomaly. To go closer draws unwanted attention. And to launch from farther risks losing warforged to the currents.” The steady splashes continued. “The waters are fairly calm, I suspect that over half of them will reach the beach on time, and storm the cliffs, such as they are, within ten minutes. Another third will arrive late, and the remainder will be swept south. They will land somewhere, and they have been told that if they go off-course they are to form groups and dig reinforced positions.”

Ibraim nodded. The warforged could not drown, but they could get pulled under. “How many warforged officers currently under rank?”

“Ten corporals and three lieutenants,” Kleris responded. “All picked by us, not Lo’Paih.”

“Good,” was his reply. “You have heard her request?”

“Yes, she wants to go with the longboats with the reject group to come into the town via the Orien road.” Kleris consulted some notes. “They’ll be launched in fifteen minutes, about the time the fog lifts. Then we’ll head into the docks. I doubt that our ship can fit there, but the warforged units will be capturing fishing craft. You and I, along with the artificers, the wizards, and our three squads of archers, will then disembark. The deck officer will take the ship back to the other side of the horizon and wait. The troop ships will have already begun to sail back to Aundair.”

The waves of warforged continued to fall into the water. Twenty to thirty of the machines fell at once, and then dove under. Every tenth warforged unit had a sunrod, and they were joining around its light underwater to swim, and eventually to walk on the ocean bottom when they got nearer to land. Their estimated time of arrival at Merylsward’s fishing shacks was ten minutes.

“You haven’t made copies of the invasion plans, have you, Kleris?” Ibraim asked.

“No MiLord,” Kleris said. “Black operations, no copies, and the notes themselves get burnt afterwards.”

“Burn them now,” Ibraim said, watching the last of the warforged fall into the water. “The more secrecy the better.” Kleris nodded and hurried to comply.

Ibraim watched the water, his knuckles tightening a bit on the railing. After a few moments of private thoughts, he went to find the deck officer, just to go over the details one more time.