Chapter 487: New Tactics
"That's as good as we can do without new wood, Your Majesty." The carpenter bowed his head as Devrim surveyed the patched up door.
The damage done by the huge bear creatures and their battering ram was beyond what the poor carpenter could realistically repair. At least not without outside resources.
But the tree line around the fortress was currently the domain of the abominations, so no new wood could be gathered. As such, the patchwork quilt of repair would have to do.
Devrim looked at the pitch covering the new seams as well as the nails and boards which had been scavenged from carts and barns. There was no way the gate would withstand another flood. Thankfully, spring was a few months away yet. By then, they would have access to the outside...or be dead.
"I know you did your best," the Emperor said at last. It was a miracle they had had time to repair it at all.
The carpenter bowed, happy to be dismissed. Devrim's eyes lingered on the hardest hit section of the gate. It was still bowed in--a stark reminder of how close the city had come to being overrun. Turning to find the stairs to the battlement, the grey-eyed man heaved a heavy sigh.
After the initial chaos with a wolfish Junayd and the bear creatures, it took some time for the wolves and lizards to subjugate their mindless companions once again. A few of the abominations had been ripped in two by the white behemoths.
Each of the bears did more damage to the ranks of Livie's troops than any single human had during the battle the night before. Unknown to Devrim, Taran's experiment with Gela's blood had done the charming nobleman more harm than good in the end.
Since that assault, Livie had not ordered any more full attacks on Oblivion. The woman had not even made another demand for the Empress to surrender.
Why? With the door being compromised, the Emperor and his group would be much easier targets and therefore should be much more willing to negotiate. Not that they would, even if they could. Maybe Livie knew that fact and had saved herself the trouble and further humiliation.
The only thing the stunning noblewoman had done in the past couple of days was send a small party each night to scale the wall and injure anyone they could. Livie knew better to attack during the day because the number of watchers on the wall never slacked enough to give her an opening.
Devrim mused over the purpose of the directed attacks. They had each occurred very close to him when he was on the battlement. It was very possible she hoped to capture or kill the Emperor before trying her hand at another battle. Either that, or she had gotten very lucky in her selections. The Emperor never made the same exact route or time schedule.
The sudden small attacks also kept the Imperial soldiers on edge. Although no one was dying as the monsters breached, lashed out and repelled down the wall, it was completely unnerving. In that regard, Livie had the advantage. Waiting was hard when even a moment of lowering their guard could mean being injured or worse.
Yet, the Emperor had a sinking feeling that there was more to Livie's hesitation than just waiting for him to die or be caught.
He didn't think she was scared. Nothing about the lithe woman screamed anything but confidence. Instead it seemed like Livie was biding her time for something else entirely.
Questions spun in Devrim's head. 'What is Livie waiting for? Why hasn't she gone for the kill when sending her creatures up the wall? Surely she has enough troops to spare in order to send them on a suicide mission, yet Livie has been pulling them back to keep them from getting killed...'
"Sire?"
Devrim only made it halfway up the stairs before being interrupted by one of Duchess Ashleigh's servants. By how out of breath he was and the blood on his formally white tunic, the Emperor already knew from where he was coming.
"Another incident?" The grey-eyed man furrowed his brow.
"Two soldiers had a heated argument over who would get the last of the fresh rolls. Both went feral. When we finally got them separated and back into their right minds, one had bitten off the furry finger of another. They are both understandably upset about the whole thing." The servant relayed this news with a heavy heart, but the shock had long left his voice.
"Did you bandage up the soldier's hand?" Devrim rubbed his forehead. He was growing weary of these reports.
The fights between those who had been turned into lizards and wolves were growing more frequent, increasing at an alarming rate. The messengers were being sent every hour now, sometimes twice, but the Emperor felt he could not ignore the situation which he was trying to contain.
There was no good answer. Devrim didn't want to punish his own men for getting injured, but he couldn't just let them roam free. So he settled for keeping them contained in one corner of the city and providing them everything they needed there.
Once the people fully transformed and came back into their own minds, they were relatively harmless. That is, until they weren't. Strong emotions triggered extreme reactions, like biting off another's finger.
And emotions around Oblivion were at an all time high, creating chaos for the new monsters and their human counterparts.
"We have bandaged the hand, of course," the servant answered. "And we have separated the...men."
"Thank you for the update." Devrim had no advice to give. He had done all he could to make the monster men comfortable. They were quickly diminishing the food resources to keep their larger bellies full and happy. But it didn't seem to be enough.
Bowing, the servant waited a moment before heading back to the infirmary to relay that no change in action was needed just now. By the man's face, Devrim could see how low morale was becoming. He turned away and bounded quickly up the stairs.
His thoughts followed him. 'Much more of this and we will all be monsters. Livie is going to win by nature of no one being left to fight...'
Then it hit him.
"That's exactly what she is doing!" The grey eyed-man felt stupid for not seeing it sooner.
"Why is who doing what?" A pristine white wolf stepped out of the house above the gate where he had been watching the treeline.
Junayd was the only transformed man who had been allowed to remain outside of the confined area. Even during his assault on the battering ram, he had not lost control of his faculties.
Other than when the advisor had become the monster, during which Junayd believed he was unconscious, the man did not have a moment that he could not remember.
The Emperor had asked why Junayd was not affected as the others around them. He tapped his forehead.
"Discipline. Neither a politician nor a general can be effective when angry. So when I feel the negativity creeping in, I do what I do best." The white wolf winked. "Sing!"
When Devrim stopped to think, he could not remember actually seeing Junayd angry. Perhaps using song to express oneself had more merit than the Emperor had thought.
The grey-eyed man could not argue with the results. After much consideration, Dervim had allowed the General to stay among the troops until he lost control. So far that moment had not come.
Just now the snow-white wolf was staring at him with a curious expression. Except for his size and strength, Junayd looked like he would be more at home among the palace dogs than the battlement fighting against lizards and wolves…
"Oh!" Devrim realized the advisor had asked him a question. "What did you say?"
"You said, 'That's exactly what she is doing!' I was wondering what you meant." Junayd cocked his head to one side and licked his long teeth.
The Emperor nodded. He had been distracted by the advisor's sudden appearance and had nearly lost his train of thought. It all came back in a flood.
"I know what Livie is doing! She is trying to turn as many of us into monsters—I mean her creatures--as possible! It's why she is only hurting the people here and not killing them. She wants them to infect others!" Devrim clasped his mouth shut as he realized that the humans around him were suddenly wary.
He was helping Livie create panic among his men. After seeing the results, for many, being transformed into a creature was worse than death.
In contrast, Junayd tapped his foot lightly. "It is not a bad plan. Too bad she is going to fail."
"I wish I had your confidence." Devrim smiled wearily.
Junayd clapped the Emperor on the shoulder with his heavy paw. "Don't worry, I have more than enough to share."
The conversation was cut short as Junayd went bounding down the stairs full speed. Devrim's eyes narrowed as he saw what had caught the advisor's attention.
Something was disturbing the ground in the courtyard.
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