Book 2 Chapter 20: The Visitor

Cedric

April 3, 1787, Realm Time, Kamianets fortress, Poland

Altogether, their army numbered thirty thousand, including the local garrison and a few hundred Cossacks of the Zaporozhian host who had defected to Poland after Catherine the Great disbanded them.

Across the river from Kamianets fortress, lodging in the remains of the nearby conquered villages, the Russian New Model army numbered five times that many. It had beelined through Southern Poland unopposed and undetected. When scouts finally found it, they thought it was a raid of five or ten thousand strong, because they encountered only a division. If other scouts had found the truth, they hadn't lived to tell the tale.

When the Polish messengers arrived to ask for help, the army had not yet left for its original destination, Crimea. Mavrogheni's death had proven a blessing in disguise. If the Prince of Valachia had been alive, he would have opposed the change of plans, insisting on following the Sultan's plan. His replacement, a Greek wearing a latex mask, had followed Emilio's orders.

"There's a shitload of them," the Greek chef said to Cedric.

The tower they had climbed offered a clear view and a good estimate of the enemy's numbers.

"If the Russians are here, they're not near Crimea," Rigas pointed out. "Our mission would have been a walk in the park."

"Ask yourself: why are they here, instead of there?" Oman asked.

"Enlighten us," Emilios said.

"Renegades are working on their side. They know how the Russian-Turkish war was supposed to unfold, and they know we want to stop it."

"And they came with a plan to counter our move," Emilios said.

"Exactly. The Poles have no serious army in these parts; they didn't expect this. Past this fortress lies the border with Austria. Moldavia and Transylvania are not far. The possibilities are vast."

"They can't attack Austria; they're allied with us," Cedric said. "

"Sure they can, kid," Emilios said. "This kind of army can't be beaten with a few choppers, or machine guns, or nerve gas."

"We can bring reinforcements from Earth," Cedric said.

"True, but... If you bring many people with big guns, who says they won't take over?"

"If Transylvania falls, all the Balkans fall," Mother Hen said.

"Then the plan is simple," Osman said. "They can't go past us."

"No passeran," Emilios said. "Although that promise didn't bode well in the end."

"Have you called Sam?" Cedric asked.

"Yes. Reinforcements will arrive in a couple of days at the soonest."

"They will assault the citadel before that," Osman said. "Did the Kingling say something?" he turned toward Mother Hen.

"That any reinforcements he would send would be wasted, and our forces are better spent on fortifying our country."

"It's all on us, huh?" Emilios sighed.

"We'd better send the cavalry out before the assault," Osman said. "Honest advice, prepare to run and fight another day."

Pasvantoglu went down the stairs first, with the rest following except for Cedric and his girlfriend, Juniper.

"You haven't said anything," he said. "Are you okay?"

"No," she said, biting her lower lip. "I don't like it. We should leave. It's not our fight."

Cedric nodded. She was right in many ways. He was feeling more and more like an Elf and less like a human by the day. They had no beef with the Russians, and yet they were fighting them on behalf of the Kingling, who had been their enemy for a long time. He was about to say she had a point when the air between them turned into a whirlpool. Before they could even blink, a naked man covered in gore with only an arm, the right one, appeared in front of them, supporting his weight on a staff.

"Where... am... I?" the man heaved.

Juniper changed into war form immediately. Contrary to most elves, she remained the same size and cuteness—at least according to Cedric—but her skin turned leathery, with a network of black filaments on it, because of her Necromancer class.

With her right arm, she unsheathed her bronze sword, resting it on the man's neck, while with the left, she took a handful of salt from a pouch on her belt, throwing it at his skin. It sizzled.

"What are you, abomination?" she growled.

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A layer of energy shone briefly over the man's skin, but faded immediately.

"I surrender," the man whispered, kneeling, then sitting on the ground, letting the staff fall and raising his only hand in the air.

"What are you?" Juniper repeated.

"Name's Cerkez," the man said. "Didn't use it in a while... I'm from Earth. I once was a Third Order."

Cedric grimaced. Normally, he would have helped, but Juniper seemed to be in control. His only idea, to restrain the man's hands with vines, was rendered moot by Cherkess' handicap.

"Are you a Russian spy?" Cedric asked, just not to appear too useless in Juniper's eyes.

"Ha..." the man let out a painful laugh.

"He has necromantic magic in his Mana channels, burning him alive," Juniper said. "No one sane of mind would do that to himself. He's a thrall."

"Koshchei's apprentice did it, but I consented. Please, let me go; I have to warn my comrades about the new— Please!" the man yelled, putting his arm in front of his head as Juniper raised her sword to hit.

"Hey, hey!" Cedric grabbed her hand. "Let him talk first."

"I never heard the name Koshchei together with anything good," Juniper said blandly, but lowered her sword. "Speak. Give me a good reason to spare you."

"There's no good reason to kill me either, elf. Why are elves meddling in human affairs?"

"My girlfriend has a short temper; you'd better do as she asked," Cedric said. The truth was that Juniper was nice and sweet, but the man didn't have to know that.

"You know what Renegades are?" he asked.

"Outworlders who try to change history," Cedric said.

"Yeah... I was among the first. A loose group of people whose purpose is to stop Russia before it destroys their Realm's countries like it did on Earth. We were Ukrainians, Georgians, Finns, Romanians... and a lot more. I'm Circassian, as my name shows."

"What's that?" Cedric asked.

"A nation from the Caucasus. Russia massacred us in the nineteenth century."

"Oh, God," Cedric gasped, wishing he had paid more attention to Emilios' rants.

"We're not the only ones... do you have any water?" the man asked, staring at the canteen Cedric carried on his belt.

"Here..."

The man downed half the contents in big gulps, then poured a bit into his palm, spreading it over his face before offering the item back.

"You can keep it," Cedric said. Drinking after someone poisoned with necromantic Mana was definitely not a good idea.

"Our plan was to use whatever means necessary to stop the Russian Empire from becoming the behemoth it was on Earth. We split into smaller groups, each with its own plans. My group chose to pursue Old Magic. We stole or bought any powerful artifact we found, and researched the subject. Then we found out that an old evil mage, Koshchei, was still alive."

"There's a reason he's called the immortal," Juniper said.

"Really?" Cedric gasped.

"We also found out he takes a disciple at a time. Like the Sith... never mind. One of our comrades, a Polish woman, decided it was worth it. She became Koshchei's apprentice and learned how to... I don't know the word for it... She put me inside a Direbear. Its body was my armor, its strength, my strength."

"She grafted a corpse onto a living person. It's an abomination," Juniper said. "Killing him would be mercy."

"He's no longer in a bear, is he, sweetheart?" Cedric said. "How did you get out?"

"It wasn't me; it was Koshchei's new disciple. She turned hostile, cut the bear's head, and our bodies detached. I used the staff to escape, but... I couldn't control the Teleport. I never was a great mage."

"You decide," Juniper looked at Cedric. "The bear's body was stabilizing him. Without it, he's as good as dead anyway."

Cedric's mind was already set. "I don't like killing people in cold blood. Let's get him to talk to Emilios; he'll figure out whether we can trust him. If he's an enemy of the Russians, that makes him our friend, right? "

"Why is an elf an enemy of the Russians?" Cerkez asked, befuddled.

"They keep invading our allies. Look for yourself," Cedric gestured. "We're in Kameniets. From here, they can attack the rest of Poland, Austria, the Protectorates, Moldavia, or Transylvania."

Painfully, the man rose to his feet, grabbing the crenel to stand up. He looked so bad that Cedric couldn't help but cast a Cleanse on him. Cerkez inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, in bursts that looked like a muted laugh mixed with whispers.

"It can't be... But the flags... The flags... It's them... hahaha.... They're done... hahahaha..."

"His channels are stabilizing, but he's losing it," Juniper said, keeping her sword at the ready.

"Kamenietz is in southern Poland, right?" Cerkez asked, his voice louder. "Like near Lviv?"

"A hundred and thirty miles southeast," Cedric said. "Why?"

"To thank you for sparing me, I will share some valuable information," the man said, keeping his back turned at them, still staring in the distance. "This is the Russians' new model army. They have their own Renegades because the US was stupid enough to invite every nation on Earth to use the portal.

"The first thing you must know is that they'll use magic. Their mages are hidden among the troops, and they have enchanted artifacts. They can be countered, but it doesn't really matter. Here's what does. They're in the wrong place."

"We know, they should be near Crimea," Cedric said.

"No, they should be near the Smolensk Gap. They don't know... The simply don't know... Either no one bothered to send them the news, or the pigeons have been intercepted... Must be the latter. Our hawks are good..." the man mumbled, looking into nothingness. "Hahaha.... Hahaha..."

"He's nuts," Juniper said.

"Catherine the Great is dead," Cerkez said deadpan. "We killed her. Sweden took Sankt Petersburg this morning. The Poles are near the Smolensk Gap, ready to take back their lands and push toward Moscow. We armed them, taught them, but never hoped they'd win. They were bait for that," he gestured toward the Russian camp. "The new model army, led by Rumyantsev and his Renegade advisers."

"There's a shitload of them," Tristan repeated Emilios' words, without much logic at that specific moment. However, Juniper nodded like he had said something of vast strategic value, and that made his heart swell with pride.

"The plan was for our Chimera army and the Swedes to attack Moscow while the Russians fought the Poles. There was a fair chance they'd notice and stop us. But now... they're too far to do anything. Thank you... kids... You're young, both of us, right?"

"I'm a hundred years old," Juniper said, crossing her arms and almost stabbing Cedric with her sword in the process.

"Yeah," Cedric witlessly said at the same time.

"Tell your leaders this: All you have to do is retreat. Let the Russians go deeper, wherever. When Moscow falls, that army will be meaningless."

"Innocent people will die," Cedric countered.

"Then kill the leaders."

Faster than his looks showed, Cerkez turned on his heels and forwarded his hand over the staff lying on the stone slabs. The staff jumped up, and he caught it. At the same time, Cedric transformed into his war form and jumped forward, grabbing the staff. A blinding flash of light shot from the item. When it subsided, leaving behind spots on his retina, Cedric's hand held the staff, but the man had disappeared.

"Got the staff, but he's gone," he stated the obvious, turning toward Juniper.

Eyes widened and trembling, she held her shaking sword an inch away from his neck. Cedric realized she had stopped her swing at the last moment.

"Good reflexes, sweetie," he said, the first thing that crossed his mind, to make her feel better.