War of the Words/Chapter 16

"We must withdraw from that front quickly. If some great menace slayed the Vandarian army, logic suggests they might return and do the same to our own armies, sire."

"Tralin, lines of communication with the front are delayed by at least 3 days. We have no way of knowing if the same fate has already befallen our troops. What do you make of the eerie music Delnar reported?"

"It bodes ill. I have heard of such a thing but once; it then as now was a herald of death and worse."

"Speak on, Tralin. You know something more?"

"Your highness, you are aware that I study all of the spheres. It was in my research for the Temple that I encountered this tale."

"And..." Draynor was beginning to become impatient with Tralin's reserved method of conveying information. "What was it?"

"My lord, my work for the temple involved benevolent undead. However, one cannot study undead without learning something of the more prevalent variety of undeath."

"Tralin, please just spit it out..."

"The legend spoke of a spell, a powerful one that took more then a month to cast. When completed, it opened a gateway to another world. From this world, armies of death poured in the likes of which the world had never seen and has not seen since. Harbingers of death: those who fell at their hand joined the marauding army, slaying all who opposed them. Fortunately for all concerned, among the first to die at their hands was the abjurer who experimented with travel to other realities and the portal slammed shut. The battle which ensued was terrible, but in the end the people put the menace to rest. However, if a servant of the Lord of Darkness who was bent on evil were to come to knowledge of this world of death, he might be very tempted to use the abjuration in service to his master, to open a portal and bring the undead under his master's control. Vandar is known to possess those who..."

"Lord Draynor, there is someone who wishes to see you."

Draynor turned to his page in irritation. "I have no time for this! My army is besieged by who knows what danger and my kingdom is potentially overrun with spies and assassins. Can I get no privacy while I consult with my councilors?"

"Sir, I believe you shall wish to see this man..."

"What? Who in the outer worlds is it?"

"He would not say, sir, but he wears the colors of Vandar."

"Vandar? What in the worlds comes now... Show him..." Draynor was brought short by the fact that the man quite audaciously had pushed past his outer chamber and shown himself in.

"No need, your majesty." His voice dripped with sarcasm rather than respect. "I showed myself in..."

"Who are you?" Draynor demanded impatiently. "Speak now before I have you imprisoned as an agent of the enemy..."

"As well you might, your majesty," the man responded, "as, in fact, I most assuredly am an agent of your enemy. Were you to do so, however, you would not know what I have learned of the front line, nor a way that you might get your men from there in safety."

Tralin considered the man coldly. "There are ways to gain the confessions of the detained."

The man turned to Tralin with a sneer of cold contempt. "I am a member of the highest ranks of the Vandarian force. Don't believe for a moment that we have not been trained to resist even the most cruel and tyrannical forms of torture." The man emphasized "tyrannical" with apparent relish. "Of course, if you wish to prove our assertions right, Drakel, by all means, attempt away..."

Tralin withdrew slightly and raised a hand, but Draynor placed a hand on his arm.

"We will here you. Speak."

"First, I require reassurance that regardless of your reaction to my news you will not do me harm. At the very least, you will let me leave."

"You are in no position to make demands of our throne, Vandarian."

"I beg to differ, your highness..."

Draynor drew a short breath and turned to face the man. "Very well, you have my word: I shall do nothing to harm you. Now, speak. Who are you and what news do you bear?"

"My name," the man began, "is Darin..."