The Butcher of Gadobhra - Chapter 395: Casualties of War

The events of the night had been interesting, and before he left for another battlefield, Ares allowed himself some time to appreciate the design of the fortress. It was a thing of beauty in his eyes, utilizing overlapping fields of fire, and mutual defense. Its like hadn’t been seen in this world and he was curious how it and others like it would change the currents of war in this part of the world. The Emperor was a strong man who preferred to show his strength rather than use it. Gus would be delighted with this mighty bulwark guarding part of his northern border. It was amusing that so many of the nobility assumed Rowan Keep would be a check on the growing power of Gadobhra. Armies moved on their stomachs, and Baron William was already selling tons of long-lasting foodstuffs to the Legion and the Duke of the North. Both the Emperor and the Duke had too many nobles causing trouble. If the Baron and Baroness of Gadobhra continued to be assets, it would blunt the political backlash anyone could stir up. And the lesson of Alchemarx wouldn’t be forgotten by the other corporations.

Wars could be fought on many battlefields: Political, economic, and the applied force of a marching army. Baron William was accomplishing the first two, and from what he had seen of his ‘workers,’ possibly the third as well. He’d have to keep a close eye on the north. Things were starting to be interesting. Ares ended his musings as he sensed someone nearby.

“Well? Are you going to skulk in the shadows, brother, or come out and talk to me?”

Hermes stepped forward. “Skulking? Of course not. A god of my stature does not ‘skulk.’ I was merely exercising caution and engaging in some quiet observation to assess the battlefield and see whether I should be here or not.”

Ares raised an eyebrow, “And what does your assessment tell you?”

“That you’re in a good mood and enjoying the chaos the mortals seem to be experts at creating.”

The god of war chuckled and looked down at the scene below, where a dozen men and women hurried to bend the forces of reality to their will and create a new teleportation device. Sausages and snails were scattered all around, along with the debris from the market and smashed stonework from the fight between the barbarian and the titan. “They certainly lived up to their reputation tonight. As did your Hermetic Shield. A very effective military adaptation of your lesser magics, incorporated into the very walls of the fortress with thought put into keeping it charged. This will change how wars are fought in some parts of the world. There will be further adaptations of your shield, and it will be used in many ways. I’d say you earned your new title and seat on my council.”

Hermes became wary but held his ground. An angry Ares he knew how to deal with. An amused Ares was somehow more frightening. “Title? Council….oh no!”

“Oh yes! Of course, you earned a new title! Messengers and the flow of information have always been part of war. You really should be considered a god of war, as far as I’m concerned. Now I have an even better reason to have you sit at my table. Just look at how you’ve revolutionized fortress defenses! After they saw how your protective shield worked, quite a few of the soldiers below began offering you prayers every time a fireball exploded in front of them with no effect. Now, what shall we call you? ‘The God of Shielding?’ Awkward. Let’s go with something simple. From this time forth you shall be hailed as ‘The Shield God’. You’ll be popular with anyone stuck behind the walls of a fortress or city when the enemy lays siege. It’s a small but important role that you carved out for yourself.”

Hermes looked stricken as he tried to apologize. “I didn’t want to steal prayers from you. That wasn’t my intention at all. I barely had anything to do with this. One of my priestesses came to me with the idea, and then they ran with it. I only nodded and said it was possible.”

Ares leaned back against the battlements and crossed his arms, relaxing. “I know you didn’t try to take my followers. And remember, mortal prayers aren’t a zero-sum game. Just because you gain some doesn’t mean I lost any. Let the lesser gods count their prayers and obsess about how many people are following them. You and I know better, Brother. My eyes have been on this fortress for some time. It bothered me at first, I’ll grant you that, seeing an innovation in the field of warfare that I didn’t inspire, tied to one of your shrines, but that is narrow thinking. War is a big concept and everyone gets a chance to play, sooner or later. Even a benign god of flowers and merchants.”

“Shit. You’re serious about this, aren’t you.”

“That I am, oh newest God of Warfare. I’ll send you an invite to my next council meeting. Things are happening here in the North and down South, as well. It’s going to be a busy season. Oh, and did you know I have a new line of war machines coming out? Look at this brochure. Beautiful, aren’t they? And I like the slogan.”

“You’re…oh, my…You’re in the arms business?”

“I’ve always been in the arms business, just never this hands-on. And, as you’ll note, this is a deal between my priests and the Baroness of Gadobhra. All the negotiation was done by your priestess and the new titan. Finances being totally beyond me.”

Ares did his best to keep a bland look on his face. Hermes stared at him until they both grinned. “Yes, totally beyond you. You’re always testing people, aren’t you.”

“Of course I am. I like conflict. More importantly, I need my priests to look beyond blessing soldiers and see the costs of war. Things have been peaceful these last few decades, but that is ending, and I want my people, on all sides, to be ready. You know I detest sloppy wars.”

He pointed down to where Ozzy was lifting a damaged wagon full of debris and casually carrying it out of the fortress. “And then we have that one. His legacy screams at me. The legends of the Titan Wars, where the new gods defeated Cronus and his allies, aren’t just stories to the Engine. Those old horrors sleep deep in Tartarus, chained and unmoving, but they exist! Don’t forget how Prometheus engineered the battle between Typhon and Zeus to give him time to ‘Bring the Fire.’ Zeus lost before he threw his first thunderbolt and he’s still upset about that. This one is as sly as Prometheus; I can feel it. So I will test him and test him again. He has the potential to cause much trouble.”

Hermes rolled his eyes. “He’s not the only one.”

Ares quirked an eyebrow, and Hermes quickly moved on to other things. If Ares worried about the Old Gods sleeping in Tartarus, it wasn’t a good time to discuss the Shepherd. “And my priestess? I will tell you outright that I am quite fond of her. You played the ‘simple soldier’ and pretended to be thick as a brick to test Ozzy, but why bring her into this?”

Ares laughed. “I didn’t! She is one of yours, and Hades is watching over her as well. You know I don’t start wars I’ll lose, nor do I take petty vengeance on mortals. Truly, I’m not even upset with her. She took something of yours and moved it into my realm. You love your contradictions, and she gave you a big one to chew on. You can blame her involvement on the titan. He suggested seeking her counsel on how to construct a fair deal. It was quite amusing, all things considered. There was both conflict and respect between her and the Baroness.”

“So, I’m on your council now. I guess I can show up and steal all the snacks.”

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Ares stiffened and looked to the South. “Something is happening. I can feel the System and the Engine at work.”

Both gods read the System’s message to all the corporations doing business in Genesis. Ares grinned. “Corporate warfare just produced its first casualty.”

William, Baron of Gadobhra, was having a good night. First, there had been a message from a nervous Liche named Valgurius wanting to confirm their deal. His shipment was near Gadobhra, traveling through some hidden roadway, and he wanted assurances that his delays in shipping hadn’t soured the deal. Billy reassured him that the wagon loads of headstones were ready to ship.

Then came an official message about Alchemarx’s demise. He’d danced a jig when he’d read that one. He didn’t know the details yet, but someone had obviously screwed up and not paid attention to the bottom line. Whatever the reason, he could spin this off to the board of directors as a personal victory on his part.

Finally, a messenger had come from his Baroness bearing a scroll that detailed a deal she’d worked out with the Priests of Ares. Billy had no clue how the hell she’d gotten a sponsorship deal with the God of War. She’d played that one close to her chest. He hoped he had enough wine; there was going to be a lot to celebrate. All in all, it was a great night.

There was only one small, niggling problem left, and that was finishing Rowan Keep. Ben had kept him updated on the progress, but it was getting close to their deadline. The war machines were ready to be installed, but the damned teleport stone wasn’t finished. He planned to head to Rowan Keep as soon as he finished dealing with the incoming shipment and could dump his ghouls on someone who appreciated them. Billy was only too happy to get rid of the ghouls from the cemetery by sending their grave markers far away. He’d have done it for free. Not that he’d tell the Liche that. If the animated Stone Guardians worked, it was a great trade. And if not, he had some talented people working for him that would get them working. But first, he had to find a hidden entrance to a hidden road. Luckily, he had an expert on the city he could ask.

The statue squatted on its plinth, bat wings in the air, a look of boredom on its face. It said nothing as Billy walked up to it and didn’t move. “Hey, I got a question for you. I’m looking for something called the Hidden Ways. There’s supposed to be an entrance around here.”

The statue turned its head to stare at him. “No.”

“No? No, you don’t know. Or no, you won’t tell me.”

“The Hidden Ways are perilous, and one of my duties is to guard them. You have no reason to explore them, and as fun as it would be to unleash some new monsters into the city, that always comes with unexpected trouble.”

Billy didn’t give up. “Tough. I’ve got a delivery coming in. I could care less about exploring some old highway, but I have a deal with Valgurius to trade some ghouls for some high-quality Stone Guardians.”

The statue seemed both surprised and interested. “Stone Guardians? Big Statues of Warriors in armor and festooned with weapons? I wondered where those went. Little Valgurius has them? My, my, I’m surprised he’s still around. And more surprised that he rules the Necropolis.”

“It sounds like them, but they were festooned with dust and cobwebs. Val doesn’t have the mana to spare. Something about his minions needing a lot of it to keep moving. We talked a bit, and I can fill you in on the history later.”

“That’s the problem with undead, either mindless furies like the ghouls or just plain mindless. They require a lot of micromanaging, and you have to constantly remind them of their orders. The Bloodstone Guardians of Valuna are much better, in my opinion, but Necromancers like to play with dead things. I had wondered who had been knocking at the entrance for the last hour. Fine, I’ll let them in.”

A ruin near the ACME tower rumbled as the pile of loose stones and rubble parted, revealing a ramp heading down to heavily reinforced steel gates. The gates opened, revealing a portcullis. Beyond the defenses were four cargo wagons made entirely of bone, pulled by a skeletal mule team and escorted by a dozen zombies in rusty armor. They were led by a transparent spectral warrior who glowed green in the moonlight. A wave of cold air that stank of rotten meat and death wafted up from the entrance.

The specter tried to pass through the bars but was rebuffed. He slammed his fist against them three times and then yelled.

“Greetings to William, Lord of Gadobhra. My master, Valgurius, the Grand Necromancer of the Necropolis, sends his greetings, along with an offering of eight mighty Bloodstone Guardians in exchange for a horde of ghouls.”

The portcullis was raised, and the specter floated up the ramp, followed slowly by the wagons. To Billy’s surprise, the specter took off his helmet, revealing the face of a bald man with an impressive handlebar mustache. “Sir Melrose Whitecastle, at your service. I am very glad to be here; the roads are in horrid shape. I daresay no one has used them in seven ages. I started with a cohort of over two hundred skeletal and zombie warriors and barely had twelve left. We had to cut our way through a nest of gullywoggles and then navigate an area infested with acidic slimes. And the potholes! You could drop wagons into them, and it’s a long way down.”

Billy nodded, “Times are tough all over. I’ve got some road-building to do myself. If Val has things I need, I’ll talk to him about what we can do to make trade easier between us. I’ve got a lot of ghouls I could trade.”

Sir Melrose smiled, showing almost all of his teeth. “Splendid. Just what we need to liven up the Necropolis. I’m afraid the coffers are a bit low on gold and gems that most of the living prefer to deal in, even after we ransacked all the old tombs. People were stingy back then. They’d bury a king in magical armor with seventeen enchanted weapons but skimp on the treasure. Such a shame.”

Billy kept his expression bland, “That is a shame. A wagonload of old enchanted gear just doesn’t bring in the cash like it used to. Not enough wars going on, and armies are expensive to feed.”

Sir Melrose looked around and noticed a group of adventurers heading to the Beastwoods and some workers walking to the Butcher’s Guild. “But I do notice you have some commerce occurring here in a much more orderly manner than we see in the Necropolis. Are you sure we couldn’t swap a few wagonloads of loot from our tombs for more ghouls? I need creatures who can repel the invaders from the walls. It would be seen by my master as a generous gesture on your part and go far to strengthen the ancient friendship between our glorious cities. The items are timeworn and may need the rust scrubbed off, but should be sound enough to sell to mortals.”

Billy took some time to consider the deal: “Throw in free delivery, and you have a deal. Bring me a half dozen wagons of tomb loot, and I’ll clear out the best of the gravestones from the cemetery. I’ll see if I can get you another couple of bosses. Do you mind a Dreadwulf or two?”

The specter blinked twice. “Dreadwulfs? Oh, those would be splendid. I’ll make sure to bring muzzles for the puppies and a bag of treats.” He offered his hand, and Billy shook it, trying to ignore the horrible cold of Sir Melrose’s grip.

“Let’s get you loaded up and on your way then. I’ve got a busy night.”