Chapter 75

Day 264:

After a heartfelt reunion between the two groups that afternoon at the Contested Oasis, John, Ariel and Spooky sat down with Ramla and Dire on a hastily-unrolled rug. Both of the newly met leaders were bursting with questions for the ‘Challenger from another world’, as the Amira put it. Now that he’d told the tale several times, John felt comfortable with what parts of the story he was willing to reveal, and what he obfuscated, or outright refused to answer. Also by unspoken agreement, none of the friends revealed Spooky’s true origins.

Everyone else found what they could to be useful. Treb and Vasin were both healers, so they made their way to the incoming soldiers who still bore signs of injury. Though only Vasin was a member of Kyet’sol’s Boon, Treb’s Amplification Rod (staff) made the youth a powerhouse when dealing with life-threatening or debilitating wounds. The pair’s normal practice was for Vasin to focus on the more complex ailments, while Treb brute-forced the straightforward broken bones, cuts and other soft-tissue trauma. Treb’s time listening to Ben Hull argue battlefield medicine with the Boon’s most revered healers in the Forum had taught the boy more than even he realized at the time.

Acting as the group’s unofficial tactical representative, Sygraid approached the other Odmaaran leaders and requested a discussion of how she, and the other friends could most effectively fit in with whatever battle tactics the veteran soldiers employed. Though the warriors were cognizant of her power and reach, none displayed any sign of being intimidated. Before long, two sections were mock fighting, with the Titan being moved from place to place as they figured out where she should best position herself.

She also asked the scouts to take Hal out with them. They were reluctant, but not for the reason either of them figured. The female Odmaaran Squadron Captain, who they found was named ‘Tempest’ explained that youths from non-slave families in Odmaara were congregated into cohorts at age seven or eight, and spent the next five years doing three vital things.

First, they studied combat in all its forms. Armed or unarmed, close range or at a distance, an Odmaaran pushed him- or herself to be the deadliest warrior they could.

Second, they learned to exercise self-discipline. Trials of will or endurance, or pure perseverance were routine experiences, with enviable rewards for those who excelled.

Finally, they spent time each and every day slowly building their adult armor. On top of their qualities as soldiers and warriors, Odmaaran units were famous for being almost impervious to magic attacks of any kind. How they achieved this feat began with a years-long, laborious, piece-by-piece construction of four donned items. For their heads, the youths carved bone-based helmets which nullified any mind-influencing powers. Painted in fierce schemes of contrasting dark and bright colors, each helm started with a round top, then flared at the back and sides to protect the neck, reinforced with a thick nose guard, and capped by a removable facemask. Many of them had animal horns, or spikes jutting up, like a horror-story cross between Star Wars’ iconic black-robed villain, a mediaeval Samurai and the well-known, but historically inaccurate Viking.

Below that, the Odmaaran soldier wore a knee-length gambeson (or duster) that combined bones, small pieces of metal, layered textiles and thick leather. These were a plain gray-green color, which would blend into most natural environments, and had a large slit cut in the back to permit riding comfortably, without sacrificing pelvic and thigh protection. On their extremities, full-gloved gauntlets that extended to the elbow and boot greaves from the knee down protected those more fragile parts. The process of constructing these items so that they would retain a near-perfect magic-negating effect for the life of the soldier was a closely held secret. Many foreign spies were found impaled or crucified outside a cohort barracks when the younger groups were in residence.

Their formations were renowned for facing both overwhelming odds, and scores of magic users without flinching. The proud children born from generations of fearless warriors intentionally rode beasts that ran or fought even harder when in pain. No unit had ever been routed, though one or two had been forced to conduct a fighting withdrawal. Unfortunately, many more than that had perished, fighting to the last.

For combat, each carried a curved, single-edged heavy saber with a basket-type crossguard (think katana blade meets rapier hilt) and a five-foot reinforced pole-ax with spiked top and war hammer opposite the axe blade. This pole arm rode in a sleeve attached to a quiver on their back, so that they could secure a bow across their torso, and hand-carry fifteen-foot pikes and kite shields. On a one-to-one basis, each warrior was a match for multiple Legionnaires, and as a unit they easily held their own against the Mage King’s forces. Unfortunately for the mercenary oriented city-state, King Morgan’s army had swollen to over thirty thousand veteran soldiers in recent years, whereas Odmaara kept only half that number under arms.

“The Mage King is a smart man; I will give him that.” Lord Dire grudgingly told John, Ariel and Spooky. “Individually, I would put three or four of his soldiers against one of my brothers. But each Odmaaran battle-born takes ten years to grow from child to a combat ready warrior. The Legions recruit dregs, criminals and outcasts indiscriminately. Anyone craving a new life may apply. It gives them harsh discipline, but those who remain are strong, disciplined rankers. And it takes the King but a year to refill his ranks. A handful of peaceful years and another Regiment or Legion appears on our borders. I love my nation, but I fear we may already be too far behind in numbers.”

So, Hal and Rhys (surprisingly!) agreed to find a vantage point from which to observe the opposing army. The Odmaaran scouts would probe for weaknesses while the odd pair would find a way to get close and remain unseen using Hal’s illusions.

Veronyka in the meantime silently communicated her intent to go get their friends at the Pyramid via the portal stone. John gave her a wink and thumbs up for the idea. When she first appeared on the portal stone at the southeast corner, a pair of Djinn who were talking to a nearby Porter looked up in surprise. They immediately turned and made their way towards her. She pegged them as Boon thugs, and retreated back into the Network. After killing one, especially in so spectacular a fashion, she had no desire to find herself back in their clutches. If the Boon guard were queued up to keep an eye on the agreed-upon location, she would use a different one and find out what was happening. She had no intention of giving those slimy thugs a chance to screw with her.

Welcome back Traveler. You have a total of ten previously-encountered portals that you may choose to exit using. This list excludes your Sanctioned portal, and one deemed too hazardous for your use at this time. You have also met the Traveler criteria for any other portals connected with your organization on World number 5. Please indicate which destination you desire.

“The northwest corner of the Great Pyramid.” She announced.

It was the farthest corner from the link-up point. Hopefully the thugs weren’t watching that one. When she appeared, squinting into the late day sun she noticed a commotion at the Forum. Pulse quickening and stomach sinking, she made her way cautiously in that direction.

She found a vaguely familiar, almost-human Djinn being restrained by several Boon guards. The ones who typically posted at the Forum were cleaner and more professional-looking, but given how many it took to keep control of their charge, Veronyka might have to downgrade her opinion of their skill.

Another man, a full human in ... modern hiking gear? Was on the ground, being healed by two Boon Mystic-Magisters while one of the Hierarch’s flunkies spat rapid-fire questions at the prisoner. Veronyka wiggled closer through the gathering crowd to hear.

“ ... another man is stabbed within minutes.” The flunky growled. “You appear, bloody blade in hand and victim at your feet. What more evidence do I need to judge you guilty of violating our peace here?”

“Ask him!” The prisoner pointed at the wounded man. “Or, um, Hull, Ben Hull! Where’s he? He’ll tell you, I was trying to protect them.”

The flunky crossed his arms. “I do not know this Benhul, but you admit to using weapons against another here. For that alone you are Banished.”

The prisoner looked around urgently for help, and his eyes settled on Veronyka standing in the crowd.

“Doctor Krasnov?” He said, in English. “Please, tell them that you know me. I didn’t hurt the Colonel, or Sergeant Hull!”

She blinked, his voice was even more familiar, though she still couldn’t place him. The flunky stepped between them.

“Speak our tongue, or be silent!” The flunky demanded. “Now, why does this man address you, Challenger Veron-ka?”

She sighed, stepping closer. “I’m not ... Adam? Is that you? What happened?”

Adam pointed with his chin at the large-bladed weapon lying on the ground. “If I wanted to keep my reward, I couldn’t use my Earth body here. So, I used John’s solution; I had the Network combine both my real appearance with my avatar here.”

She put her hand over her mouth in shock. “You ... physically came? Using the portal on Earth? How... ? I ... the Network just told me it was still blocked!”

Adam grinned. “Not the one in South America.”

Her jaw dropped. “You found it—another one? Only one more?”

His eyes narrowed. “They discovered two more, supposedly. They wouldn’t tell me where the other one was though. Why?”

She turned to the flunky, whose name she was wracking her brain for and coming up blank.

“He’s my friend.” She stated. “And the one he called Ben is actually Numb. Was he injured too?”

The flunky nodded, pointing to an overhanging tent several yards away. “He appeared only a short time ago, with a strange wound through his stomach. Because of his quick-healing ability, our aid goes rapidly. But we must be certain that no waste escaped to further infect him.”

“And this man?” She pointed at the wounded hiker.

“He too had stomach wounds, though they are obviously from a knife.” The flunky explained. “We detect no healing power, so the Magisters are going more carefully. Though he will be weak, I predict a recovery after our care has concluded.”

“That’s Colonel Nunez.” Adam indicated. “I brought him here from Earth. We also had a Naval officer, Commander Conley with us. Conley is the one who stabbed both of them. I was only trying to defend them.”

“That is not your purpose.” The flunky scoffed. “Boon Order-Keepers are patrolling for just that reason.”

“Well, they weren’t around when it happened!” Adam protested. “Am I supposed to let my friends die because yours aren’t nearby?”

“Neither would have died.” The flunky assured him. “Any Porter knows to bring an injured man here. If saving them was beyond the Magisters you see, they would have died anyway.”

“Magister Ghanem,” one of the guards spoke up, interrupting the flunky, “this is the woman who killed Order-Master Idrmaa!”

The flunky, Magister Ghanem’s eyes lit fire. “Yes! Seize her! She faces Kyet’sol’s punishment for her crimes!”

Half of the guards spun and lunged for her. But after spending regular time practicing while she waited for John to appear, Veronyka could now teleport without a conscious thought. Distance was her friend, and staying next to the Pyramid wouldn’t help. So she Stepped out into the desert, almost halfway to the Haboob’s edge. It took the guards a few more moments to figure out what she’d done, and that she was still within eyesight, if not close. Magister Ghanem pointed and screeched in her direction.

In a laughable display of indiscipline, the rest of the guards gave Adam a shove and joined their fellows chasing out into the sand. The SEAL quickly snatched up his blade, and knelt by Colonel Nunez’s side.

“Colonel, I’ve got to go.” Adam warned. “I can’t afford to get sent halfway across the world, not if there’s an issue brewing back home. I don’t think we’ll be able to come back here for link-up; but you’re not healed yet. What do you want to do?”

“Go.” Nunez ordered, gripping Adam’s hand. “Do what you need to. I’ll come find you, somehow.”

“Sir...” Adam protested weakly.

“Go.” Nunez released him.

Then a shadow fell across them as someone else knelt opposite Adam.

“Oh, stop being a martyr.” Ben Hull snapped, in English. “When we find the kid and Vasin, they’ll have you healed up in no time. I can see these guys already closed the worst of it.”

Nunez blinked, looking down at himself. “They have? Damn, that still stings.” He sat up, grabbing both of their arms for support. “Let’s get out of here then.”

“This way.” Ben said, also heading away from the Pyramid.

He took an escape route away from the Pyramid, angling obliquely from where the guards were aiming for Veronyka. It was only when they charged through the inactive stone openings that Magister Ghanem noticed their flight. Both they and the guards chasing Veronyka ignored his renewed squawking.

“Shouldn’t we ... help her?” Adam panted.

Ben chuckled, then coughed. “Ugh, something’s still not right. No, Veronyka can handle herself. We’re better getting away.”

The woman circled away from her enveloping group of admirers. They could even hear her taunting, faintly. All three could see that she was leading the guards an opposite direction from their own escape.

“What was ... that thing ... she did?” Adam asked.

“What thing?” Nunez added.

“Our doctor’s not really medically inclined anymore.” Ben answered dryly. “She somehow traded in all that M.D. training for some scary, dangerous powers. There’s a whole story behind it, but I’ll let her tell you when she can.”

An odd, rippling sound echoed across the ground. They glanced over in time to see most of the guards stagger like drunkards, and several collapse to the sand. Those still standing, and coherent were now backing away with their empty hands held out to the side. She side-stepped, keeping a staff pointed at the retreating group. Once they were far enough away, in her judgement, she Stepped again. With an ear-splitting crack, she appeared slightly ahead of the three still running men.

“Hello boys.” She smiled, collapsing her Lance and stowing it.

Then the ground started shaking, and they all had to stop or they’d trip.

“Are earthquakes ... a thing ... here?” Nunez asked, while doing a more dignified funky chicken.

“No!” Adam denied, looking around. “But dragons are!”

“Should we run, then?” Nunez wondered.

“You’ll only die tired.” Ben snarked.

“Can we fight?” Nunez tried.

A massive serpentine head burst upward from the sand in front of them with a shower of sand. Kyet’sol took all four of them in as she brought her snout to within a few feet of where they stood.

Everyone except Nunez bowed deeply.

“Guess not.” The Colonel muttered.

“You were warned.” Kyet’sol thundered. “My home is a place of learning and contemplation. Violence is not allowed.”

“Great, ah dragon—if” Adam began, but Veronyka put her hand on his chest and stepped forward.

“We were warned.” She admitted. “Yet your own sanctioned guards are the ones who sought to harm us.”

“I do not care about your squabbles, human.” Kyet’sol retorted. “My Boon are charged with maintaining order, not you.”

Veronyka glared. “Are you not supposed to protect us, in your lands after we finish the Challenge?”

“You would have been protected, but you chose to disobey.” Kyet’sol replied. “Because of your hand, servants of order are now dead.”

Veronyka paused. “Okay, wait. I need to ask something. Did you actually witness what happened to us, or are you relying on reports from others?”

Kyet’sol’s head inched closer to her. “Why do you ask?”

“Your guards took us into custody without provocation.” She argued. “They were in the very process of forcing us to leave by a route that was dangerous to all three. If you believe that’s fulfilling the promise to protect us, we have vastly different views on that subject.”