“You did all of this.” It was more statement than question. Badron wanted, needed, to hear Amar Kit’han’s admission. It was the only way to soothe the demons growling in his soul.
For the first time, the Dae’shan was unsure about how to reply. He hadn’t expected Badron to awaken from the delusions of power. Still, there was room to maneuver him back into the trap and ensnare him forever. “There are events that have not yet happened that I have foreseen you standing in a position of immense power and wealth. The very crown of the world will be placed upon your brow. All you need to do is reach out your hand.”
“You murdered my wife and my son,” Badron accused.
“Murdered? No, I merely watched and…”
Taking a step closer, Badron clenched his fist. “And?”
“Stood by. I could have saved them if it served my purpose, but their lives were already claimed by the dark gods. Even I have masters, king. Do not think me the independent renegade bent on souring kingdoms for some nefarious purpose. I do as my masters command. Unfortunately they demanded the sacrifice of your family.”
“I should strike you down and cast your shadows to the ground below.”
Amar laughed. “You cannot kill me. I am not from this world. Any blow you might deliver, any sword or spear would never touch me.” He rushed forward quickly, taking Badron off guard. “But one touch from my finger and I will reduce you to a pile of smoldering ash. Mind your tongue wisely or I will have it removed and fed to the crows for sport.”
Amar’s hand glowed an eerie blue-green, giving Badron pause. As much as he wanted to rip the Dae’shan’s heart out and feed it back to him, Badron recognized the error of his thoughts. Amar Kit’han was raw power. Wheels in his mind turned. He needed to find a way to sway Amar back to his cause, to regain control and continue with the execution of his plans for the northern kingdoms.
“I won’t strike at you, demon,” Badron hissed. “So long as you assist my war.”
Fool. This war was never yours. You are a puppet for the dark gods and a poor one at best. I shall let you have your little game for as long as it amuses me. He bowed crisply, a casual reminder of a life long forgotten. “It shall be as you say, king. What do you propose to do about your renegade general? And your Goblin problems? You will need one of their armies in order to continue.”
Badron began to pace. “Yes, I know all of that. I can’t hold Rogscroft without an army and I need another to retake Delranan. Harnin will suffer greatly for his sins.”
If you only knew. “Events developing in Delranan are unfortunate but there is nothing you can do about it until after you resolve the dilemma here.”
“And until winter ends,” Badron added. “Very well. I’m going to summon Rolnir and demand an accounting for his treason. Grugnak will be easier to placate once that is done. The Goblins will go back to their submissive ways and I can begin consolidating the throne.”
By then it shall be far too late.
“Why settle for just two crowns? The whole of the north is ripe for conquest. You could march an army unopposed all the way to the Deadlands in the east.”
“The Deadlands? There is nothing there worth conquering. Besides, the Goblins dominate that kingdom. Tens and tens of thousands of their filth. I would not march there with three armies at my back. No. I will look west and south, but only after Rolnir is brought to heel and the Goblin issue is finished.”
Amar bowed again. “As you wish, king.”
Shadows swirled furiously, collapsing in on themselves as the Dae’shan disappeared. Badron stood alone again and turned back to what little remained of Rogscroft. A new fire sprang up from the distance. There wouldn’t be anything left of the city if he didn’t stop the Goblins from their insane looting soon.
*****
“Your game grows too dangerous. You risk much in that fool,” Kodan Bak snapped once Amar Kit’han finished materializing in the small, dark chamber.
“Ever you seek to supplant me, Kodan Bak. Kill me if you must and assume control but stop wasting my time with idle threats. We have work to do.”
“There is always work to do,” Kodan Bak retorted. “You turn it into a child’s game.”
“Have you forgotten so much of your past? All of Humanity centers on petty games. They scheme and play at divinity. Some dare think their will can contend with that of the gods. Humanity is a mockery of what life should be. They need to be culled and put back in their place.”
“I remember what it meant to be Human, and I have little use for those memories. This is what life should have always been.”
Amar cocked his head. “Why then do you continually seek to challenge my authority?”
“All authority should be questioned. Rulers need to be deposed from time to time. Under your rule the Dae’shan have been reduced to playthings. Artiss Gran abandoned our purpose. Pelthit Re seeks his own path to greater glory and I rot at your side. The future is not so bright as you would have us believe.”
Kodan Bak drifted back. He’d seen Amar Kit’han angry enough times to avoid getting caught in his ire without being prepared. Kodan collected power, ready to unleash at a moment, and waited.
“The dark gods will be here soon. We have much work yet to do and you waste time reminding me of our failures. Was it not you that failed the Masters in that miserable kingdom of Aradain? There is plenty of blame to go around.”
Aradain. The name was a stain on their honor. Long before the creation of the Mages and the crystal of Tol Shere, shortly after the prearranged fall of Gaimos, the Dae’shan sought to open a nexus and return their gods to Malweir. It was only through a handful of Vengeance Knights that they failed.
“The Edaas paid for their failure, Amar,” Kodan countered harshly. “The death cult should never have been given so much power.”
“Power is relative to station. We cannot make the same mistake. The dark gods now have the Cracked Crystal. Once the appointed time arrives the portal will open and darkness will once again blanket the lands. They cannot do that as long as there is strength in the north. We must continue to use Badron to destroy what might remains. Only then will the path be open.”
“What of the wizard? They found Venheim and all of our efforts to stop them have failed. He is the only power capable of ruining our plans,” Kodan asked.
“The Hags have failed me. I warned Freina not to make contact.”
Kodan didn’t care. Harpies were more inconsequential than Humans. “Foolish, but not to the point of ruining our work here. They continue to harry the wizard but more is required.”
“Send out the word. I will pay a large sum for their heads, especially the brother of King Badron and Anienam Keiss. There is a tribe of mountain Men in the northern part of the Kergland Spine. The wizard must be stopped before he can reach Trennaron.”
“They have already crossed over the mountains and are embroiled in the middle of the Dwarf civil war. It was wise turning one of the largest clans to our cause.”
Amar agreed. The stroke proved masterful. Not only did it reduce the combat power of the Dwarves, it also took their focus off of events in the west. A Dwarf army might be too much for even the reborn dark gods.
“The war will not prevent the wizard from reaching the river, though it may delay him just long enough. There is still a chance to end his meddling. Go now. I will deal with the Hags and King Badron.”
Kodan Bak disappeared in a puff of darkness, leaving the leader of the Dae’shan commiserating with his own monsters.
TWENTY-SIX
Traitors
Piper finished reading the parchment and crumbled it up. He gave Rolnir the briefest look before tossing it in the fire. “That’s settled.”
“Unfortunately,” Rolnir agreed. “You do know what this means?”
Piper nodded slowly. “We can never go home unless Badron is dead.”
“Or deposed.”
“Six in one hand,” Piper replied.
Rolnir looked a
t his senior commander and best friend. “How do you manage to find levity in this? We’ve been declared traitors.”
“Look around. It’s the coldest winter I can recall. We’re running low on rations, trapped in a foreign kingdom, and have an army of Goblins ready to march against us. There’s not much point in staying serious when you think about it.”
Rolling his eyes, the general of the Wolfsreik circled the fire. “I never dreamed such a day would come. The very source of power for countless kings of Delranan has abandoned the throne and gone rogue. This is a war unlike any other, Piper.”
“It could be worse. Your head would be on a pike next to King Stelskor’s if you’d have answered Badron’s summons,” Piper speculated. “And the rest of us would be smashing into Goblin lines trying to avenge your death. I think this way works out better. We can fight on our terms.”
“What are our terms?” Rolnir asked. “Everything I’ve trained for, believed in, has turned out to be a lie. Our tactics won’t work against Badron.”
“I can’t see why they wouldn’t. Badron’s not the warrior-king he thinks he is. He may know our tactics but knowing doesn’t give him the ability to counter. He’s reduced to a Goblin army sorely lacking in proper military training and discipline.”
“They don’t need discipline when they have numbers. Goblins fight like wild animals, making them dangerous. They lack honor and refuse to adhere to the rules of war. The only way to beat them is to adopt their tactics.” Rolnir finally resumed his seat on the large tree stump and reached for the coffee pot sitting on the rock wall lining the fire. “You know, I might have gone mad by now if it weren’t for this.”
“Coffee makes an army move, even in the dead of winter,” Piper said. “What are your orders? We can’t stay here for long.”
“Agreed. The Goblins are more than likely already en route. We need to split up. Get in with King Aurec and his Pell Darga. It’s the only way we can salvage some sort of victory and still retain enough fighting force to take Delranan back.”
“It might be too early to think about home,” Piper added. “The Goblin threat is too severe to make future plans.”
“Our three armies combined should be more than enough to destroy the Goblins.”
Piper shook his head. “Unless Badron calls up reinforcements from the Deadlands.”
“You’re full of good news, aren’t you?” Rolnir scolded and emptied the dregs of his cup back on the fire. “Has there been word from Herger?”
“Not since he left with a battalion of Aurec’s soldiers and General Vajna.”
Since the battle in the mountains Herger and his infantry hadn’t been back to the main army for more than a night to refit and resupply. Rolnir believed the Wolfsreik’s only hope for survival lay in staying in the field and keeping Badron guessing. So far the enemy had been unable to adjust. Small Goblin units were being picked off at random. The death toll continued to rise. Rolnir considered himself fortunate to have sustained minimal casualties. But that wouldn’t last. It never did. There’d be a reckoning soon enough.
“Vajna is a good man,” Piper said. “He’ll break the Goblins. Force them to withdraw where we can hit them with all of our might.”
“This war isn’t going to end without a lot more death. The crows will eat well.”
Piper grinned. “Are you trying to dampen my good mood? It usually takes rain to do that.”
“I wouldn’t be a general if I made everyone happy,” Rolnir replied with a hint of humor. There were times he wished he’d never been promoted. Better to remain in the rank and file and go about my life without knowing what was going on. “I’m going to turn in for the night. You’ve put too much on my mind and my stomach is unsettled.”
“That’s what good commanders are for.” Piper rose and saluted his friend and leader. “I’ll check the lines to ensure you get a good night’s sleep.”
“Whatever would I do without you as my second?”
Piper held out his arms. “A question I’ve long pondered during cold guard shifts.”
The truth was the Wolfsreik needed people like Piper if there was to be another dawn.
“We’re under attack!”
Piper jumped up at the sound of the cry. He quickly slid into his boots and reached for his sword belt. He was halfway out the tent before strapping it to his waist. What he found disheartened him. Goblins had come in from the north and overran the pickets and first line of defense before the Wolfsreik regrouped and managed to counterattack. Bodies littered the camp. Most were his soldiers. Piper drew his sword and roared an ancient Delranan battle cry. Echoes sprang up from across the beleaguered camp as his soldiers rallied.
Men were running everywhere, desperate to get to their battle positions. Goblins that managed to break through the freshly formed line hacked and slashed at anything that moved. Piper watched arrows riddle the nearest Goblin. It was dead before it hit the snow. Enraged, the Wolfsreik commander headed towards the line.
He grabbed the nearest soldier by the collar and jerked him close. “Find General Rolnir and inform him that I am assuming command of the defense. Tell him the enemy is attacking in force and has broken through in several places.”
The soldier ran off and Piper turned towards the fires. The first few rows of tents blazed uncontained. How many died in those tents? Even one is too many. Soldiers should die in battle, not their sleep. A pair of Goblins crept from between two tents and charged. Their blunted tulwars were dripping blood. Each Goblin bore a crazed look. The killing had already gotten to them, making them wild, unpredictable. Piper snarled and attacked.
His sword swept low, a blow aimed at disemboweling a Man but high enough to rip across a Goblin’s throat. The Goblin blocked and jerked back, exposing his midsection. The second Goblin attacked as soon as Piper went off balance. Piper barely managed to slip aside. The tulwar sliced down where he’d just been standing. Piper continued to attack. Three quick blows, two high and one low, pushed the Goblin back. Unused to this aggressive style of fighting, the Goblin made the fatal mistake of lowering his weapon long enough for Piper to rip his sword across the Goblin’s throat. Hot blood melted the snow it landed on.
Enraged, the second Goblin raised his tulwar over his head and bull rushed. Piper took a half step back and planted his feet to meet the charge. The Goblin never lowered his weapon, a fatal error. Piper’s sword punched up under his jaw and out the back of his neck. Blood frothing from his lips, the Goblin’s eyes crossed. He dropped the tulwar and reached for Piper’s throat. It was a useless gesture. Piper stepped back and spun around, taking the Goblin’s head. Out of breath and exhilarated, Piper raced to the line.
What he saw encouraged him. It wasn’t as bad as his initial estimates. Scores of Goblins lay dead, compared to a handful of his Men. The enemy hadn’t penetrated more than a few meters before being repulsed. Piper grinned. Goblins were no match for his well-disciplined soldiers. Goblins died in great numbers as more of the Wolfsreik filled gaps in the line.
“Commander Joach! General Rolnir says to expect similar attacks around the perimeter. Scouts report movement to the east and west,” the same soldier Piper had dispatched earlier reported.
Not standard Goblin tactics. Grugnak has never been this subtle. Piper’s guard rose immediately. A quick glance back at the battle confirmed that most of the enemy was either dead or had pulled back into the night. He turned back to the soldier with new orders. “Find the ranking officer here and order him to dig in but not to expect another assault. I want every other soldier to displace and move to alternate positions to the east and west. He is to have a reserve prepared to move to any part of the camp in moments. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir!”
“Move! We don’t have much time,” Piper snapped and the soldier raced off.
The Wolfsreik camp was attacked three additional times that night. Goblins pushed en force but never managed to break the line at any point. Piper moved from engagement to eng
agement, offering encouragement and jumping in the line when the opportunity presented itself. He shouldn’t have. Rolnir might demote him if he ever learned his senior commander risked his life so carelessly.
In the end the Wolfsreik held. Whatever remained of the Goblin force had fled back to whatever hole they’d skulked out of, but the damage was done. The Wolfsreik was no longer safe. Rolnir had no choice but to either break up or move en masse and he needed to have it done by nightfall. No one doubted the enemy wouldn’t be back by the time the sun set. A sense of urgency spread through the army. Soldiers began packing what few possessions they had without orders in anticipation of the move. Sergeants conducted inspections and readied their squads and platoons for the next fight while low level commanders speculated what their next move was going to be.
“It seems our position is more urgent than we believed,” Piper told Rolnir after offering a haggard salute. He was exhausted, physically and mentally.
Soot stains on his face and armor, Rolnir wasn’t about to disagree. “Badron moved faster than I expected him to. We’ve lost the advantage.”
“Not necessarily. There’s no way he can cover us if we split the army.”
Rolnir scratched the stubble on his cheek. “I’d rather not. We’ll be too exposed, vulnerable to more of these Goblin-style assaults.”
“I still think we need to draw them into the open and hammer them with a cavalry charge. There’s no way they’d be able to withstand it.”
“Piper, this is a war of attrition. We can’t be too free with our lives. The enemy has the option of being careless, suggesting reinforcements are already coming in from the east. I need to meet with King Aurec. The only way to win is through a fully coordinated campaign. Aurec is adapt at guerilla warfare. A tactic we sorely lack.”
Piper took the compliment with a measure of anger. His vanguard made first contact with Aurec’s forces and suffered severe casualties. It was a stark lesson in warfare and he took it personally. Despite Rolnir’s insistence otherwise, Piper felt shamed by failure.
A Whisper After Midnight Page 21
