Vance Moore - Magic The Gathering - Masquerade Cycle 03

Vance Moore

"Prophecy"

(Magic: the Gathering. Masquerade cycle. Book III.)

Chapter 1

"Where in the nine hells is everyone?" Haddad muttered

as the small group of men and wagons tramped through the

night. "Are we lost again?" His feet disturbed a mound of

stones collected at the bottom of the crumbling hillside.

The land seemed dead. Successive seasons of cold and heat

had shattered rock and piled scree everywhere. The road

was deep and cut wide, but the rock faces sloughed debris

every day and covered the road or ate at its base. It was

too cold for insects, and the column of marching men cut

sharp shadows in the moonlight. Within hours the sun would

rise and sear everything. It was a land of no good

seasons.

"Quiet, Haddad!" Natal murmured. "I'm sure the

sergeant knows where he's going." Natal stamped his feet

to warm them in the night air. "Anyway, the last thing he

wants to hear is you."

Both men were soldiers in the Jamuraan Kipamu League

of Annies. The League had been named after Lord Kipamu, a

legendary figure who was credited with many important

military victories on the old-time frontiers of Jamuraa.

Dead for centuries, if not millennia, the lord's name

still commanded respect all over the continent.

Haddad nodded and shivered as he hugged his coat more

tightly. He was wearing most of the clothing he owned.

Haddad tried to tuck his hands into his sleeves but

flailed his arms for balance on the uncertain footing. The

noise of others stumbling over rock was overpowered by the

sound of the wagon wheels crunching and sliding over the

broken roadway. Sergeant Atul signaled a halt, and Haddad

relayed the order down the line.

The chill breeze heralding the dawn cut through the

men. None of the soldiers spoke, though chattering teeth

sounded. Many moved closer to the wagons, holding their

hands against the warm sides of the oxen. Natal edged

closer to the animals, and Haddad shifted to give his

comrade room. The friends were several yards away from

Sergeant Atul as he conferred with the more experienced

soldiers. False dawn began to reveal details of the

landscape.

"I wonder if they know where we are?" Haddad

questioned again. The sergeant's ears were sharper than

anyone had suspected.

"You two quiet down. Check the oxen and wagons now."

Sergeant Atul spoke with no perceptible malice, but the

pair instantly started inspecting the condition of the

draft beasts and the wagons. Haddad and Natal split and

went down opposite sides of the line, checking the cargo

and the beasts. They peered uncertainly into the dim

light, hoping no problems would be found.

The sergeant continued to converse with the other

veteran soldiers. Bad luck and poor communications had

delayed the unit's departure far longer than anyone

planned. Unsure of the road, the technical unit had set

out into the wilderness. The combat troops were far ahead,

and most of the unit wondered if they could find them.

The Kipamu League's punitive strike had left at its

best speed in response to rumors of a Keldon raiding

party. The barbarians were supposedly encamped only miles

away, resting their beasts before returning to their base

across the desolate plain. The Keldons were warriors and

slave takers. They had swept over the world in ages past,

though it had been decades since any League city had

suffered a serious attack. Now the Keldons were once again

raiding Jamuraa, and the League was eager to test its

strength. Friendly forces had failed to catch the raiders

during the past three incursions. The lack of success

against raiders was a source of embarrassment to the army

and the League leaders. Some civilians said that the army

was scared to attack figures from childhood nightmares.

The news that a target might still be within striking

distance of the Kipamu barrack provoked an immediate

response. A force of war machines and mounted infantry was

dispatched. The mechanical forces were steel ants, the

weakest and most common element in the Kipamu arsenal.

However, the high speed of the waist-high metal insectoids

made them the quickest force the army could field.

Besides, the commanders said the low quality of their foes

presented no real challenge to the League, just Keldon

trash raiding small farms.

Haddad wondered if bravado ruled the army now. Seeking

to crush their own fears, the combat troops had raced out

into the field. The need for speed left the support troops

exposed and without escort as they followed, chivvying

their plodding oxen into the cold darkness. The support

troopers carried supplies and maintenance equipment, but

as noncombat troops they had none of the rashness burning

in the commanders who raced to fight. The veterans looked

for machines or cavalry for protection, but they found

none. Sergeant Atul had said if he had a choice between

shivering naked with a proper column of security or

maintaining the current situation, he would risk

frostbite.

"Natal!" Atul called, "come here."

Haddad followed his friend forward as the sergeant

sent two veterans to the rear of the column. Haddad

noticed each of them looked more calm and ready than he

felt. Perhaps it was only his youth making him so nervous.

Things couldn't be as bad as he feared. Haddad slung his

launcher off his shoulder where he usually carried it. The

sling was too short to quickly shrug off, and whenever he

was nervous he carried it ready to fire.

The sergeant looked at the friends but did not comment

on Haddad trailing along. There were several other men

gathered around, looking like they were awaiting orders.

"Natal, you and Corporal Vanosh will advance ahead of

the group until you find the combat troops or some sign of

the enemy. If you catch the rear guard, ask for a security

detail to return with you. If you find the enemy, fall

back to here. Natal, you're on point. Advance rapidly but

with care. Vanosh, trail Natal at a distance, and if

necessary, fall back with news." The sergeant looked into

Natal's face and looked satisfied at the young man's

expression of determination and anxiety. "Just remember

that returning with information is more important than

being a hero. What are you carrying?" Atul gestured to the

launcher Natal was carrying.

"Web round, Sergeant." Many men carried heavy weapons

in addition to their military short swords, leaving their

shields on the wagons. These wilderness lands were said to

hold the parea, giant carnivorous birds that commonly

attacked men. The birds were land bound but swifter than

horses, which they could chase down and dismember. The

launcher Natal carried had originally been developed to

allow infantry to stand off lesser war machines. The web

round would ensnare a steel ant and could stop a charging

bird with ease, especially with the wide arc a web round

covered.

"Haddad, what are you carrying?" Sergeant Atul looked

pensive and fingered the hilt of his sword unconsciously.

"War rocket, Sergeant," Haddad replied. The rocket

could cripple medium machines if used with skill and

reflected Haddad's confidence in his marksmanship.

"Switch with Natal." Haddad slowly handed over his

weapon and accepted Natal's. His friend looked even more

apprehensive as he exchanged weapons. The sergeant waved

Natal and the corporal forward and then turned around.

Atul looked at the wagons stacked with parts for machines

that might need repair after the Keldon raiders were

defeated.

"Haddad, I want you to find reloads for the men with

launchers and tell the drivers to keep their personal

weapons ready for dismount. We'll pull out in five

minutes." The sergeant pulled a sack of wine from his belt

and took a shallow draft before handing it to Haddad. The

wine tasted terrible but still cut through the cold dust

coating Haddad's tongue.

Natal and the corporal disappeared from sight as he

handed back the wine. Haddad wondered what else might be

lurking ahead.

"Natal hasn't trained much with rockets, Sergeant."

Fear and concern for his friend made him talkative.

"Natal's purpose is to find the combat troops or warn

us of the enemy. If he has to fire he is most likely going

to die. With the rocket he will at least die loudly and

warn the rest of us," Atul said without looking at Haddad.

"Find the reloads," he continued, "I'll speak to the

drivers myself."

Haddad turned numbly as he watched Atul speaking to

the drivers. The wind was cold, but Atul's words were

colder. Natal might die, and Atul only wanted it to be

noisy-a few minutes' warning at best. Haddad started back

to check the wagons as Atul instructed. He wondered what

his own life was worth in the sergeant's estimation. The

column advanced once again. Haddad went quickly from wagon

to wagon, quizzing the drivers and searching the cargo for

heavy-weapon reloads. He found none.

The machines making up the strike force were the

lightest in the League arsenal. The commanders had not

loaded the ants' direct fire weapons. The League was still

largely made up of mercenaries from the city wars ended

only a few years before. Each city of the League had seen

to its own defense and conducted small, stylized wars with

other cities over resources, trade, or even honor. The

wars depended heavily on paid mercenaries who fought

according to a code of strictly limited warfare. Damaged

machines and dead men were viewed as too costly. Heavy

weapons were rarely used due to their fairly substantial

costs, the damage they did to enemies who might be future

allies, and the destruction of loot on the battlefield.

Heavy weapons such as war rockets, toxic web rounds, and

penetrating bolts were rarely used without desperation on

the part of opposing forces. The current League commander

did not consider a battle with the Keldon raiders as

desperate. There were no reloads to be found in the

wagons, just logistical supplies for infantry and modular

repair parts for the steel ants.

Natal and Corporal Vanosh returned as Haddad looked

through the last wagon; it had taken longer than he

planned due to the poor light. The sun finished rising

over the hillside as he hurried forward to report to the

sergeant. He arrived in time to hear Corporal Vanosh

speak.

"We found the rear guard, Sergeant. It's about forty

minutes ahead with these oxen. The main attack has already

commenced. The officer in charge said to advance with best

speed to the main party. He was staying there to pull down

stragglers fleeing the fight. He couldn't guarantee we

wouldn't see warriors that eluded him. We observed three

Keldon outliers pulled down before we hurried back here."

Vanosh was calm as he spoke, but Natal was flushed and

looked slightly nauseated.

The sergeant was silent and only turned to Haddad for

his report.

"No reloads for personal launchers, Sergeant. I did

find a few light crossbow bolts," Haddad stated. Sergeant

Atul took only a few seconds to finish thinking.

"All wagons will advance at maximum speed. Keep your

eyes open for Keldons trying to escape. If a large group

is spotted, be prepared to stop and get into fighting

formation. Spread it down the line," Atul ordered, and he

waved the unit forward as Vanosh went back to spread the

word. Haddad and Natal came together as the unit advanced

at best speed.

"What did you see?" Haddad asked quietly.

"We walked maybe thirty minutes before we found the

rear guard. Vanosh trailed me far enough back that I

couldn't see him most of the time. Besides, he ordered me

not to look back. I almost wept with joy when we finally

spotted our forces." Natal paused and continued in a more

controlled tone. "Vanosh hurried up, and we reported. When

the first Keldon got pulled down, I thought I'd vomit.

I've never seen a man killed by a steel ant before." Natal

was too young to remember even the stylized fighting the

League had practiced as unification occurred. "The Keldon

was mounted on a camel and trying to circle around the

force when he was spotted. The commander of the detachment

sent out a pair of ants to stop him. They ran down the

camel in seconds. The Keldon tried to run up the side of a

hill, but it was unstable, and he made little headway."

Natal became lost in remembrance of the scene and spoke

more intently. "The ants rushed up with their legs

churning out a stream of soil and small rocks. One of them

pulled down the camel by shearing off a leg. The camel

fell instantly, and the ant was at its neck as soon as it

hit the ground. The Keldon kicked out of the saddle in

time, and he was on his feet when the second ant hit him.

He was trying to draw a sword, and you could see the ant

take the arm off. He screamed and threw himself down the

slope. The ant followed and caught him before he fell very

far. It stabbed him with its legs and started dismembering

him before they stopped sliding. You could see parts

separating as they were ripped off. I never want to see

anything like that again." Natal was shaking as he

finished.

"It looks like any future fighting is going to be

against the Keldons, Natal. The age of machines fighting

machines has ended. The enemy is men only now. More of the

fighting is going to be men against men. The Keldons raid

too widely, and there are only so many machines." Haddad

echoed the words of the pessimistic veterans. "You chose

better than you knew when you went into the technical

service. The infantry and cavalry are going to be fighting

in the field, not sitting in garrison. When the real

battles begin, we'll be in camp most of the time." His

words were not those of a hero, but the earlier mercenary

view of combat still was prevalent in the army. Combat was

something you prepared for, but fighting was too dangerous

and expensive to be eagerly sought. New recruits and new

battles were changing the military, and Haddad knew he

would be increasingly out of step with the mutable army.

"Hey, Haddad," Natal called, jarring his friend from

his thoughts. "We've arrived."

The bodies of Keldons slain by the rear guard were

clearly visible on the sides of the hills. Haddad thought

there were less than ten killed, but it was hard to be

sure. The Keldons had been dismembered and scattered by

steel ants, and he closed his eyes several times as he

tried to get an accurate count. Sergeant Atul motioned the

wagons to stay put, and he collected an advance party. The

column was surrounded by rises just steep enough to block

the men's sight and limit mobility. Haddad could see the

trail of disturbance the League assault forces left as

they scrambled over the loose ground. He could hear what

might be combat in the distance. It sounded as if there

was fighting over the short rise before them. But noise

could carry a long distance, and Sergeant Atul wanted a

look before advancing blindly. Everyone climbed very

slowly up the slope.

The sergeant crouched as he reached the crest, and the

others did as well. The scene before them was so

unexpected that they looked for several seconds in

confusion. Slowly they began to realize what had happened.

The

League assault forces, so confidently thrown against

the foe, had been defeated.

The steel ants, so deadly under Natal's eyes, were

scattered pieces, dismembered as crudely and sloppily as

the Keldons Haddad had tried to count minutes before.

Still stunned, Haddad voiced his first thought, "We'll

never fix everything with what we brought."

Natal nodded dumbly as Corporal Vanosh crabbed quickly

over and whispered in Haddad's ear. "Shut your mouth, or

I'll open your throat." The corporal had a knife in his

hand, and Haddad realized the stupidity of saying anything

aloud.

Soldiers picked over the battlefield, and Haddad

realized he was seeing the enemy for the first time. From

this distance, and with the sun behind them, it was

difficult to make out details. The soldiers seemed very

large compared to the League bodies scattered over the

field, but perhaps the dead looked smaller when compared

to the living. The figures were odd in proportions, and he

could hear their voices, deep and guttural as they turned

over and searched the pockets and wallets of the dead.

Haddad grasped his launcher more tightly and wished he had

the longer ranged war rocket load instead of Natal's web

round. He looked to the sergeant for orders, but Atul

stared beyond the debris below and farther on. Haddad

followed Atul's gaze and saw the raiders' camp. Even from

this distance, he could see League prisoners gathered

under Keldon guard. There were huge machines of some type

and only a few men with mounts of horses or camels. There

were far fewer men than Haddad would have thought possible

to overcome the League men and machines. Atul motioned

everyone to withdraw. They slid down the slope, each

trying to be silent and cringing at the odd word or oxen

low from the supply group.

The sergeant whispered instructions even as Corporal

Vanosh raced back up the line of wagons to start the

retreat.

"The Keldons must be out looking for other League

forces-there are just too few otherwise." He turned and

addressed Haddad and Natal. "When we withdraw you two will

keep your attention to the rear. Be prepared to sound the

alarm, but stay quiet unless you clearly spot the enemy

and he spots you. No unnecessary noise." Sergeant Atul

gestured emphatically even as his voice remained at a

whisper. But even as he attempted to salvage the

situation, a loud cry of alarm sounded up the line.

"Raiders, Sergeant!" The corporal was coming back from

the rear at a run. Drivers were on the ground and

preparing for battle.

Sergeant Atul cursed. "Come on men! We'll see them

off!" He grabbed two drivers. "Get water bags and

blankets," he whispered. "We'll run if we can." The

drivers dived into the rear of the wagons and began

slinging out water bottles for after the fight. Haddad and

Natal followed Atul as he reached the last wagon. They

followed someone who knew what he was doing even as they

left one point of the column exposed to attack. The

corporal was up in a driver's seat, moving the wagon to

the side to start a wall. One other driver was also moving

his team, but the Keldons were advancing, a troop on

camels closing fast.

The attackers seemed giants as they deployed. Each was

larger than anyone in Haddad's company, and their heavy

armor and decorations made them larger still. At this

close range, the Keldons were even more fearsome looking,

and their skin was ashen and faded. Each was yelling, and

the sound seemed loud enough for thousands instead of the

company that Haddad saw. Haddad's heart pounded, and he

was short of breath as he neared the back of the column.

He wanted to run, and determined not to be a coward, he

ran toward the enemy. Each step brought the Keldons

closer, and each Keldon shout made him more afraid. The

mounted warriors brandished swords and axes, and now their

shouts were one voice, battering at his morale and the

morale of the supply column.

"Shoot when you can," Atul cried as he grabbed a

shield from the back of a wagon. The League soldiers

formed into clumps, and swords sprouted like weeds as each

man cursed his luck. Natal danced around an ox and looked

for a target. His launcher rose to his shoulder, and he

fired the war rocket Haddad had given him.

It flew in a flat arc and hit the shoulder of a camel.

The rocket's charge shattered the animal's side and

removed the gray-skinned raider's leg in a bright flash.

Haddad could hear the sudden amputee cursing as he and the

camel separated, breaking up the Keldon line. As if Natal

had ordered it, men with launchers let loose other rockets

and darts. The Keldon charge was a mass of screaming

animals and men, but the warriors swung wide and up the

slopes on either side of the wagons. The deaths disrupted

the Keldon battle cries, but every warrior was roaring.

The League soldiers sent up a few cries of their own, but

fear rather than rage sounded from the men around the

wagons. Haddad and a few others had not fired, the web

rounds being point-blank weapons. The enemy jockeyed for

position to sweep down over the League. Many Keldons

dismounted and gripped axes and shields. Behind Haddad, on

the other side of the wagons, he could hear shouts. He

glanced over his shoulder and saw the biggest of the

raiders calling and signaling. This Keldon must have been

near seven feet tall, cursing and yelling in a pall of

smoke. Haddad barely had time to wonder where the fire was

when the split Keldon forces descended upon the column.

Haddad spun on the nearest Keldon raider and fired his

launcher. The round webbed the rider to his camel. Haddad

could hear curses that rose to a shout as the camel went

down heavily, whipping the rider into the ground. Gear

shot off the body, and the Keldon's helmet skipped down

the slope, finally hitting a wagon. The struggling animal

and its attached corpse slid down the gentle slope to

snare another Keldon mount. The rider of the second animal

jumped free in time to avoid being trapped. The now

standing Keldon wasted no time. He ran at Haddad,

screaming a war cry, a long sword in his left hand. Haddad

threw the launcher at the man hard. The raider batted it

away but stumbled in mid-charge. Haddad drew his short

sword, knowing the warrior would bowl him over.

Then Natal stepped forward, and Haddad remembered he

wasn't alone in this fight. His friend picked up a shield

and tried to push the Keldon away. The barbarian

overtopped Natal by at least a foot and was in full armor,

spikes, and studs of metal. The taller warrior swung his

sword up and hammered it down. The blade screamed as it

tore through Natal's metal shield and sank deep into his

torso. His eyes rolled and blood flowed from his mouth as

he tried to speak. The Keldon's blow had been too

powerful, and his blade was now stuck inside Haddad's

friend.

The Keldon swore as he tried to haul his blade free

from Natal, his eyes wild and inhuman against the ashy

skin. Haddad swung his sword at that face, committing

everything to this one strike. His blade rang as it hit an

armored shoulder and then skidded under the rim of the

man's helmet, sinking into his neck. Even mortally wounded

by the blow, the Keldon turned and struck Haddad with a

gauntleted fist, the studs tearing a line of agony across

the League soldier's scalp, right over the eyes. Blood

poured down, and the pain and shock took him off his feet.

Haddad could still hear the cries of other soldiers around

him as he worked the blade free of the Keldon's neck and

tried vainly to clear his eyes, to rejoin the battle. He

pushed himself off the bodies of his friend and his

friend's killer. The shouts of his comrades were falling

silent as he struggled to stand.

The Keldons held the field, and the fighting revolved

around one wagon, squatting under the heavy load of

supplies it carried. The oxen lay dead in their traces.

Atul's voice was falsetto against the cries of the Keldons

as he and a few others fought on. Spears licked out from

under the wagon as the last League soldiers fought like

animals trapped in a den. The Keldons laughed now and

threw rocks under the wagon. Another gray warrior cut

heads from corpses and hurled them at the trapped

defenders.

Haddad saw it all as if very far away as he picked up

a shield and carefully pulled a sword free from a dead

Keldon's back. He staggered into a charge at a Keldon who

ignored him as unworthy sport. The discharge of the

launcher must have been accidental, Haddad later decided.

Or perhaps Atul had decided better to kill oneself than be

dug out like a rat. The charge thumped into the bottom of

the overloaded wagon and ignited hidden rockets buried

there.

Accidentally or on purpose, the blast killed the

defenders, and Haddad was knocked spinning as a piece of

someone smacked into his shield. The Keldons close to the

wagon screamed in rage at their injuries and at being

robbed of their victory. Supplies that had been hurled

into the air from the blast soon fell, mostly striking the

wounded gasping on the ground. Haddad swayed drunkenly,

turning to face the largest group of Keldons. He hoped to

die fighting, but his eyes wouldn't focus, and he saw only

blurs and shadows. A hand swept his helmet off, and then

there was only pain and darkness as he fell.

Chapter 2

Waking up was a long, painful process with no

beginning and no real end. There was a long period where

pain and nausea encompassed the totality of Haddad's

world. Never had he felt such sickness as his body pitched

and moved against his will. Several times, he could not

have said how many, the nausea provoked an episode where

he tried to vomit. Haddad never did, but each bout wiped

out any progress he made toward reaching normalcy, and

pain blotted out his sense of time. Finally he mastered

his illness and tried to call for help. His eyes were

gummy, and his mouth and throat were dry. It was only

after he was sitting up and looking at the moving

landscape that he remembered the Keldon attack, the moment

he went down. Commands in voices he had never heard

brought him fully into the present.

"Slave, that one is too ill for the purpose. Find

another to use." The voice was gravelly but quiet and with

a feminine tone. The voice spoke in Haddad's native

tongue, but the words sounded foreign, as if whoever was

speaking them hadn't known the language for very long. He

turned his head slowly to see the speaker. It was a

Keldon, but this one was different from the warriors he

had seen charging the line. She was a woman, six feet tall

and dressed in dyed leathers. The red and orange tones

were bright and jarring to his eyes. Her features were

coarse, and her gray skin was wet ash in the shadows of

the vehicle. She turned and looked at him with eyes rimmed

with kohl. A hand shoved his head, and his vision clouded

at the fresh pain. The cursing he heard became shouts of

anger behind him. A struggle was occurring, and he turned

to see what was happening. He found a man of his own

nation crouched by him. The poor state of his clothes and

the resignation in his body were obvious even to Haddad's

still blurry vision. This was a man who had been with the

Keldons far longer than Haddad cared to imagine.

"Don't look at them directly, boy," the man said as he

looked off to the left of Haddad's face. Haddad tried to

see what was happening as the sounds of struggle died

down. The brightly clad woman was standing in front of a

League officer restrained by two men. His mouth was

bleeding, and he bared his teeth in challenge. The Keldon

smashed his face with her gloves, which were heavy and

studded. He fell to his knees, and the two men kept his

head bowed as he began cursing in broken, incoherent

mutterings.

"He challenged her with his eyes. Never meet their

eyes.

Now she'll make him suffer." All this was delivered by

the crouching man in a low voice that Haddad strained to

hear as he looked around.

He must be in one of the large vehicles he had seen on

the battlefield, Haddad thought. He was on a long deck

that stretched maybe sixty feet from end to end. One side

of the vehicle opened to the outside through several large

doors, which allowed light inside. The landscape flowed by

at a fair clip, and Haddad realized motion sickness

contributed to his nausea. The vehicle he was in was

packed with League prisoners. The captives were lying

down, and only a few were not obviously injured or dazed.

There was only a small group of what must be Keldon

servants-all raggedly dressed men. They seemed rather

stoic at the Keldon victory, and Haddad wondered what

their status really was. Loud horns sounded outside the

vehicle, and Haddad felt a moment of hope as he imagined

it signaling the arrival of League forces.

"Hold his hand still," the alien woman said. Both

servants rammed the officer's hand to the deck, and Haddad

wanted to protest, but he couldn't drag a single sound

from his parched throat. The woman drew back her metal-

shod stave and then slammed it down on the man's fingers.

The officer inhaled to scream, and he reared his head up,

staring into her eyes. Before he could voice his pain, the

stave rose and crushed his other hand. He did not scream

but seemed to dissolve into the wooden deck. When the

woman spoke she didn't even sound angry.

"Over the side with him." She gestured to an opening,

and the body was flung clear. "Walking speed and a wide

circle," she called, and the command was relayed by

others, presumably carrying it to the driver of the craft.

The passage of landscape slowed, and Haddad became more

aware of the craft's curious gait. He could see other

vehicles moving into his line of sight as the craft began

to turn. The image that sprang to mind was of hermit crabs

using toy boats as shells. The vehicles were overturned

hulls in shape with wide doors and windows showing. He

could see the gray faces of Keldons, in contrast with the

captives, looking out. The land vehicles were balanced on

dozens of legs, and the rhythmical sight of them made his

motion sickness worse as the female Keldon spoke.

"I am Latulla, and you will obey," she said loudly but

without any particular emphasis. "I will not be questioned

or challenged. All other Keldons will receive the same

obedience and respect, or you will be punished." Haddad

watched other men being thrown from what he decided to

call land barges. Some were limp and did not rise. Others

got up and started collecting themselves.

"Some of you might be thinking of escape. Try and you

will be punished, as I punished the slave without respect.

Even if you should succeed, you will only find death." As

she finished, Haddad could see groups of something

breaking into the large circle of moving land barges. The

timing was too perfect, and he realized he was seeing a

planned performance and not some impromptu expression of

rage or cruelty. This was carefully staged, and only his

weakness and passivity had saved him from a similar fate.

The land birds of the wastes were now only a legend in

the civilized cities of the League where Haddad had grown

up. They had been relegated to the status of monsters of

fairy tales, spoken of only to scare children. But in the

wilds of the east, they were the primary danger faced by

League patrols before the Keldons began raiding. They

hunted in pairs or small groups, and their presence in a

district meant panic. All that Haddad knew of the parea,

called the running death by some, flowed through his mind.

Then the beasts spread out and fell onto the men stumbling

on the ground.

The birds overtook their victims, and when they

reached the running men, they knocked them down with what

appeared playful nudges of their beaks. Full-grown men

fell and tumbled head over heels as a result of those love

taps. Other birds snapped at flailing limbs and

dismembered men as neatly and quickly as slaughtered

chickens in the mess hall. More parea darted in, and

Haddad wondered where they had all come from. At more than

five hundred pounds apiece, the surrounding landscape

couldn't support many of the vicious birds. He coughed and

spit several times before he could make a sound.

"It's like a flock of sparrows hunting a field,"

Haddad said. The juxtaposition of that homey memory

against the hellish scene was grotesque. "Where are they

all coming from?" He was talking to himself, but the

crouching slave- that was what he must be-answered him.

"Every trip they dispose of the troublemakers or the

Vance Moore - Magic The Gathering - Masquerade Cycle 03 - Prophecy

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