Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign - By Phillip Jones Page 0,272

for their secret invasion of the Scorpion King’s kingdom. They all had seen the bright column of light to the south, but since they could only guess as to what caused it, they blew it off without much discussion.

As the raft ran onto the shore, the ice crunched as it slid across the rocks. The noise captured the attention of three giant scorpions who turned to investigate. Everyone exited the raft and moved away, observing the creatures’ movements from within George’s veil of magic.

George was awed by the arthropods’ size, but he did not feel the need to get a closer look. They were massive, and from where he stood, what he could see was enough—tails at least one to two paces long, with stingers that ended in a fine point. Two scissor-like mandibles clacked against each other over their mouths and their big, beady eyes gave him chills. He was sure they would zoom in on him at any moment.

The top of the scorpions’ backs were waist-high and the pincers at the end of their front appendages could tear a man in half. He had never seen a scorpion up close, and these three were more than he cared to see again. The mage motioned for the group to move on.

The rocky shores of the island turned to desert as they traveled inland. They tried not to attract attention, but the sand they flipped up left a cloud of dust with every footstep, leaving a clear trail of footprints to follow.

They needed a diversion. George decided to release the magic that was keeping the tiger hidden. Once the cat was visible, the beast became the scorpions’ target. The big cat gave George a look as if he had been betrayed and then took off running. The scorpions gave chase.

Once they were far enough away, George spoke. “I think the tiger is quick enough to outrun them for a while, don’t you?”

“That was mean, George,” Kepler growled. “But I love it. We should pick up the pace.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” They began to run within his spell of invisibility.

After much searching, the sand finally gave way to a rocky stretch of land that formed a gigantic mound at the center of the island. Relieved, the duo no longer had to worry about leaving tracks, but the way ahead was littered with a multitude of monstrosities.

“Holy garesh,” George whispered after he placed his mouth next to Kepler’s ear. “These damn scorpions are everywhere.”

The cat just nodded in agreement.

George began to look for a way through the masses as he watched the scorpions skitter across the top of the mound. The arthropods were not going to be their only problem. They would also need to avoid the cacti and prickly bushes that were growing out of the rock—not to mention the fairly large piles of scorpion garesh that were everywhere.

It took a while, but eventually, they reached the top of the mound, and on its back side was the entrance to the Scorpion King’s underground dwelling. The cave was shrouded with vines and the way beyond was dark.

With the path ahead being no less intimidating, they slowly began their descent into the hole. George used his magic on his eyes so that he could see.

The South Side of Scorpion Island

Sam’s Army has Landed

Sam jumped onto the bank of the island and ordered the general to form ranks. The king then grabbed the side of the boat and motioned for Helga to come close. After securing his hands around the older woman’s waist, he lifted her out and set her on the ground. Turning to assist Shalee, Sam could only smile as the queen used her magic to float over the side of the craft and lower to the ground.

Irritated by how the ranks were forming, the general shouted, “No, no, no, Branson ... I said ten, not nine!” Michael grabbed the collar of the legion leader’s breastplate. “You best get these men organized! I said I wanted 10 squads, each with 664 men. If I had wanted nine, I would have said that in the boat.”

“I’m sorry, General!”

“Don’t apologize! Tell me, if your men are 20 abreast, how many soldiers should be in each line, Branson?”

The legion leader’s response was without delay. “At 20, each line should be around 80 deep!”

Michael shook his head and tapped the flat of his blade against the legion leader’s breastplate. “Wrong! The lines would be not be around anything! They would be exactly 83 deep, Branson! Why