Page 28 of Storm to Victory
Creating weapons powered by the magic of the ancient kings was all right, such as powering aeroplanes, as long as there was aperson in control of that weapon. That was deemed no different than a warrior wielding the magic. Using the magic to power shields was also allowed.
But bombs were explicitly banned, as was twisting the magic in any way to create a weapon. Fieran had heard something about Uncle Lance creating a bomb with Dacha’s magic once, and that was the reason for the ban.
The Escarlish general shifted and looked away from Dacha, but, given the clench to his jaw, he didn’t seem too happy.
“Beyond the ban, it likely wouldn’t be advisable to drop any bomb containing magic on this factory.” Uncle Julien gestured to the photograph that Uncle Edmund still held, although he’d lowered it during the debate. “It’s filled with magic-stealing machines. A magical bomb would likely only fuel them, not destroy them.”
“Nor is the factory the main threat.” Uncle Edmund retrieved another photograph from the folder and held it up. “This is a secret facility a few miles outside of Kilriden. The Mongavarians call it Ludin.”
The elven generals around the table reared back. Beside Pip and Fieran, Rothilion went pale.
Several of the humans shifted, and one of the generals, not the belligerent one, glanced from the elves to Uncle Edmund. “Isn’t that a Mongavarian folk hero?”
“Hero.” A male elf general spat the word. “He captured elves, tortured them, and cut off their hair and the tips of their pointed ears in order to degrade them.”
Now Fieran placed the name. Ludin had been a human living in what was now Mongavaria at the time of the fall of the elven empire. He’d led one of the human resistance groups, but he was so extreme that even other humans despised him as too radical.
“Yes, he was rather horrible, but in recent decades the story has been heralded by Mongavarian propaganda as a shiningexample of human ingenuity and grit in throwing off their elven oppressors.” Uncle Edmund tapped the photograph. “And in this case, his name is rather appropriate for this place. From what my agents in Mongavaria can gather, experiments are being conducted on ogres with the purpose of bringing down the elves—Prince Farrendel and his offspring in particular—and the Alliance along with them.”
Fieran swallowed, and Pip leaned into him as if seeking comfort. Around the table, a somber quiet descended once again.
That had always been the Mongavarian goal in this war. They wanted an empire—an empire of humans, specifically—to rival the one created by the elves so long ago. They’d conquered all the kingdoms along the ocean to the south, as well as Groyria.
But Escarland and the rest of the Alliance had always stood between them and expanding farther west. Seventy years ago, Mongavaria had hoped Escarland, as a fellow human kingdom, would willingly join their budding empire in order to form an alliance against the elves and trolls. Fieran had even heard something about a marriage of alliance with either his mother or with his Uncle Julien.
Instead, Escarland had chosen to ally themselves with the elves and trolls against their fellow humans in Mongavaria. Seventy years ago, that had been seen as an affront. Now the most extreme of Mongavarian propaganda portrayed it as unnatural, even a betrayal of humanity.
“What is the exact nature of these experiments?” The black-haired elven female general’s voice was low and grim.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to obtain the exact details.” Uncle Edmund’s jaw worked. “There is only one Mongavarian general overseeing the Ludin facility, and all telephone and radio communications between him and the facility are in vague and coded terms. He reports nearlyeverything to the empress verbally so there is very little in writing for us to find in her office. The general’s office is in a heavily guarded complex, which my agents haven’t been able to infiltrate yet.”
“But due to our experiences with the results, we can assume they are stealing the ogre’s magic somehow.” Uncle Julien shrugged. “The exact method doesn’t change the fact that this is a threat. These experiments are the reason Mongavaria dared start this war. They believe they finally have the means to combat the magic of the ancient kings. And if these experiments are left unchecked, they very well could be right.”
That gained a series of grim nods from around the table.
One Escarlish colonel was eyeing Uncle Edmund. “You have access to the empress’s office?”
“Yes. If it comes across her desk, I get a copy.” Uncle Edmund shrugged, as if seeing everything that the enemy leader saw was no big deal. “That’s why she’s learned to be cautious about her paperwork, especially since she hasn’t figured out who my agent is.”
The Escarlish colonel nodded with a new respectful light in his eyes. Several others seemed far more ready to believe whatever Uncle Edmund told them, now that they realized the scope of his sources.
“From what I’ve gathered, Mongavaria has been abducting ogres for years.” Uncle Edmund pulled another photograph from the stack, but he didn’t hold it up yet. “Ever since their conquest of Groyria, they’ve been conducting these experiments on a larger, more industrial scale. The analysts in the Intelligence Office have estimated that at least a hundred, perhaps several hundred, ogres have been brought from Groyria to the Ludin facility. That number is expected to increase dramatically in the next few months, if this facility isn’t shut down.”
Uncle Edmund held up a new photograph. It must have been an enlarged portion of an original photograph since it was especially blurry. But from what Fieran could see between the shoulders of all the gathered generals, it appeared to show several long buildings with black dots clustered around them. People, perhaps?
“Then there’s this.” Uncle Edmund held up another somewhat blurry photograph, this one of what appeared to be a giant pit with more tiny black shapes inside. “It’s hard to make out details, but the analysts and the observers on the airship that conducted the scouting mission agree that this is a mass grave.”
Fieran’s stomach lurched. A mass grave was only needed if there was mass death.
“Are they killing off the ogres?” An Escarlish general frowned and gestured at the photograph. “Is all of this—the Ludin facility, the camps in Groyria—some plot by Mongavaria to exterminate the ogres? Perhaps that sounds absurdly melodramatic and overblown, but Mongavarian rhetoric about the elves and trolls has indicated that they have an extreme discrimination against non-humans.”
“I wouldn’t put that past them at some point, and I shudder to think what they would do to the elves, trolls, and dwarves if they won this war.” Uncle Edmund’s jaw flexed, his eyes holding a dark kind of anger. “But at this time it appears the deaths are a byproduct of the experiments. A byproduct they are not in a hurry to fix. The conditions in the holding camps in Groyria are decent enough that it seems Mongavaria needs their lab rats alive and well.”
Beside Fieran, Pip’s breathing had turned ragged. Fieran turned to her, partially sheltering her from the rest of the room. “Are you all right?”
“Just trying not to be sick. That’s awful.” Pip pressed her face against his arm, her shoulders giving a slight shudder.
Fieran rubbed her back, holding her close for a moment. He’d thought he’d lost his ability to be horrified at the things people could do to each other. But nope, it seemed there were levels of horror still to be reached.
