It was with those thoughts swirling through his mind that he covered her sleeping body with a thick blanket, and went about making a meal that would fortify her for what she had come here to do.
“How many men did you leave guarding the bridge?” Pael asked Glendar in a sharp hiss, as he suddenly appeared beside him.
Watching the shock and fear of his unexpected appearance explode across everyone’s face thrilled Pael to the bone.
His suddenness startled them all, especially Roark, who spun quickly, while drawing his sword, only to find himself held solid by some magical force halfway through the motion. The weight of his armor and his off kilter balance in his now paralyzed state, left him about to fall from his horse. Mercifully, Pael released him so that he wouldn’t tumble like a statue into the road and be trampled.
King Glendar, surrounded by his personal guards, was leading some four hundred of his men southward into Dakahn. Four horse-drawn wagons, full of gold, jewels and other valuables rolled amongst them. A few other wagons full of kegs, crates, and stacks of weapons, armor, and other various looted items straggled not far behind the procession. A dozen more wagons full of jewels, and gold bars, along with the finest of the forged things had been sent across the bridge into the Westland City of Locar. Eventually, Glendar wanted them hauled to Lakeside Castle and added to the kingdom vaults. King Glendar, it seemed, still had no idea that Westland wasn’t his kingdom anymore. Shaella’s Zardmen had apparently done a thorough job of intercepting and forging responses to the communications he had sent since he had marched out of Castlemont.
“A hundred men to guard the bridge in rotation,” Glendar answered Pael proudly. “There are fifty each in Locar and Castlemont, and a handful more to guard Westland’s piece of the pie.”
Pael chuckled at the young King’s total lack of awareness, and gave the boy a nod of respect, as he silently complimented Shaella on the patience, and diligent care she had used to keep her conquest from being discovered by the fool. She didn’t know it yet, but King Glendar had just made her kingdom that much richer by delivering all those wagon loads of loot to Locar. Pael wondered when she would loose the Wedjakin breed beasts from Coldfrost. It never ceased to amaze him how his past failures sometimes could be used to his advantage later on.
“It’s late in the afternoon, my King,” Pael said. “Why not let these men rest? Open a few kegs, have the cooks make a rich stew. These men fought hard and deserve a victory celebration. And I would like to speak with you in a more comfortable, and private environment.”
“Master Wizard Pael,” Glendar leaned down from his saddle so that no one but Pael might hear him. “I believe that is the wisest idea I’ve heard in days.”
Pael didn’t doubt it.
Rising up in his saddle, Glendar projected his next words, to make sure that they were heard by many. He also made it sound like the whole thing was his idea.
“Roark, break the men. Tonight we feast, and toast our victory over those Redwolf curs.”
A small cheer rose up from the ranks nearby, and spread as the order was repeated shoulder over shoulder, to those in the rear. By the time Roark rode down the line to make the command official, the troops were already breaking formation.
Pael instructed Glendar to have his new, far larger pavilion erected away from the bulk of the soldiers. He then pulled Roark to the side and told him that he would be on full duty this night, guarding the King’s tent soberly and diligently.
The rest of Glendar’s personal guards were dismissed to celebrate with the others. Once he began his work, Pael wanted no interruptions, and when he was finished with the King, he had something he wanted to try on the big horn-helmeted soldier.
The celebration was taking place in a field just off the open road south of Low Crossing, but still shy of the Dakaneese border. The feast went as well as any roadside celebration might be expected to. Every man was allowed double rations, and the cook added far more meat than usual to the pots. Enough of the kegs were opened, so that each man would be able to get good and inebriated.
King Glendar made a victory speech from atop a pyramid of barrels. When it was done, toast after toast was offered between congratulatory cheers and prideful boasts. Not long after, the mild sleeping spell Pael had placed on the food began to work. Glendar passed into such a comatose state, that Pael had to enlist Roark’s help getting him into the tent. Once that was accomplished, Pael casually stopped Roark’s heart with a hot, sizzling lightning bolt from his finger. The huge warrior crumpled into a smoldering heap.