Previews of other books by Donald L Wigboldy Jr
The Emperor’s Shadow War
Chapter 1- Dante
The smells of blood and death lay upon the plain. The orange light of a new day's sun added its color to the already crimson stained earth. The cries of crows and ravens broke the still air with their raucous calls of delight and the occasional squabble over a choice piece of meat. The fights ended quickly though. There was more than enough for even their great numbers, but the large ebony scavengers had their work cut out for them even still. Armor that had sought to protect the men of Certe in life resisted the strength of their beaks even though it had failed its responsibility so completely.
A sudden movement from the center of the dead startled the scavengers from their fare. The air turned dark as the flock lifted angrily from their meals. A groan from the final surviving defender was drowned out by the squawks of the brazen birds. The warrior fought his way weakly to his knees. A hand brushed absently at the blood blinding his vision. Looking back to the ground in front of him, the man found his broken sword.
The largest of the ravens swooped downwards to land before the man. It looked at him curiously. The man thought that he could see disbelief in the creature's eyes which mirrored that which he also felt. It squawked at him as if to ask him how it was that he still lived.
A croak through his raw throat was his ineffectual retort. The soldier coughed and the effort nearly threw him back onto his face in the gore. He spied an unopened canteen on a body nearby and reached out for it. Lifting the container to his mouth, the fallen warrior poured the liquid between his lips. The silver haired man rinsed out his mouth and spit it back out. The water had turned red before it even touched the blood stained earth.
Pouring the contents of the canteen back into his mouth, he forced his throat to swallow. Once started, the man couldn't stop until the vessel was drained.
The raven hadn't moved throughout the whole of his efforts.
The man stared at the creature in amazement. The thought of the scavenger drew him to look about him. The death surrounding him caused an unbidden gasp. He could tell that the hundreds of bodies mostly belonged to his comrades and allies. The army of King Druin lay about him in great unkempt piles.
He forced himself to remember how the losses could possibly have happened. The sight of a dark misshapen body sent waves of memory flowing harshly back into his consciousness. Tears of bitterness and failure came unbidden as he remembered it all.
Dante Betrice of the Certe Alliance Guard had come with his comrades when reports of the dark horde invading their lands had come to them. King Druin ruled in the south of the alliance and had sent the first battalion to meet the unknown intruders. General Batist had confidently led his men to the plain of Turo and there the army found that they faced the horror of creatures not born of their world.
The creatures consisting of two main types wore black armor strangely discolored by a crimson gloss. The smaller creatures all had dark green skin, a green that resembled that of an evergreen in winter. Small and quick they darted in and out and around the humans with their long knives. If a man wasn't careful, the beasts would take swipes at his legs going for the tendons in particular. He had seen many a soldier fall to the tactic and the creatures were quick to pounce in small groups to finish off their victim as well. If they didn't get the kill, their larger cousins would use their axes and clubs instead. With rough skin the color of oak bark, the creatures were nearly the height of a full grown man and had chests wider than a man's shoulder width. The larger beasts had formed a core through which their smaller cousins operated.
With power and speed, the dark warriors had quickly dismantled the entire command.
Dante had fought valiantly. Even as the men around him fell, he had continued to hold his ground. Dark creatures could be found slain in the midst of the Certe Guardsmen, and some were the result of his work. Then the numbers had closed in on him. Their mass proved too strong for his blade and the shield he had carried was left in tatters.
This brought him back the question of his continued existence. "How can I be here?" he questioned the raven still before him.
Cocking its shiny black head at him curiously, the bird answered with a softer call. Dante looked at the creature before him in wonderment that it was still perched before him. Shaking his head slightly until he realized that the motion caused him dizziness, Dante then chose to try and stand. The raven retreated only slightly as it continued to watch.
The soldier chose to ignore the bird and turned to the task of finding a suitable sword and shield to replace those that he had lost. He also found a pair of animal skin canteens and a couple of travel packs of food. Dante began eating ravenously. He had been famished. The hunger was greater than any he could ever remember.
He tossed a few scraps towards the raven though there was more than enough left here to feed it. Its comrades had already started withdrawing now that even their great appetites had been sated. His own hunger was as well now from a less morbid version of dinner.
The task before him had to be a return to Castle Trea and to find out if any of the others had made it back to warn the king. Having eaten, the man found his strength returning quickly. Dante began picking his way through the masses of dead. It was a disheartening experience. He found many a friend lying broken and often picked over by the scavengers. The body of General Batist was found near the rear of the battle surrounded by his personal guard.
Dante shook his head. The man had refused to flee though his command was being torn apart before him. Dante considered such an act foolish. The General should have retreated to the castle to warn the king. There was nothing to be gained by losing such an important man. His pride had caused the superb soldier to die which was a shame since Batist had been a renowned strategist and tactician. In the face of such a loss, Dante guessed that he had been unwilling to admit defeat.
Picking up his pace as he finally was clear of the main killing field, Dante rushed as quickly as he could manage. The castle was nearly twenty miles south. If he could get there soon enough, the soldier could prepare the king for what his troops would be facing.
Walking all day, eventually Dante spotted smoke ahead of him. A dark flash and the soft rustle of wings, alerted him to the raven's presence again. It had followed him this far oddly enough. Perhaps it was still certain of Dante's death and had chosen him as its future meal, he thought wryly. But as the bird soared on ahead towards the smoke, Dante realized that the bird would have something else to feed on first.
The bird had disappeared long ago, but Dante knew that the creature would be waiting ahead for him though he had no reason for such odd behavior. The warrior followed the road as best he could and before long he found the source of the smoke.
A small village, through which the Certen army had passed only a day ago, was now a smoking ruin. As he entered the outskirts of the town, Dante could smell the death before him even as he had on the battlefield. Animals and scavenger birds were here as well. Most scattered at the approach of the man. The brazen raven appeared before him in the road and turned to him with a cry.
"So nice of you to wait," he mumbled sarcastically.
As he searched the village for any survivors, Dante began to wonder about something else. The invaders’ identity was entirely unknown to him. They had appeared out of virtually nowhere. Those that had alerted the king had not known from where they had come either. More than five hundred strong, a true army of odd creatures the likes of which had never been known to this region of the Taltan continent, if they had ever existed anywhere in all of the world of Alus, and they had just appeared out of nowhere to attack and destroy.
Armies of man they knew. There were even dwarves rumored to be a true separate race up in the north, though he had never seen one. The myths of a race of gargoyles and the existence of dragons had made their way to Certe from North Continent as well. The source of old wives' tales to be told to n
aughty young children or around the campfire to try and spook the rawest of recruits, but now these aberrations were here. This slaughter was no wives’ tale.
Dante could find no survivors left alive and so he proceeded south to warn the king, even as the man continued to ask the unanswerable questions.
The raven continued to follow but revealed nothing to him.
The High King: A Tale of Alus
Chapter 11- A Berserker Among Us
Gerid wiped the sweat from his dirty brow. Leaning on his shovel, he turned to survey his progress. The dark line of the new irrigation channel, which he had been working on, appeared dark against the summer sun's bleached earth. The scrawny shoots of the Taltan continent's main staple, cracker corn sprang up in rows to either side.
Summer was half over now. Nearly two months of slavery showed themselves in the hard calluses that were even rougher than from working in his family holdings. His upper body and face were dark brown from exposure to the sun, a stark contrast to his silvery, white hair. The youth still had to smile in satisfaction at his progress. The herculean feats that he had performed had begun to get Holtein's notice by now. New plans to impress the slave holders and ways of finally winning his freedom continually played in his mind. This channel, for instance, would normally take five men to complete in the same amount of time his pace would complete it, if he could keep it up. The smile played about his lips still as he returned to the hard labor.
"Gerid!"
He looked up to see Mateil coming through the path between patches of growth. The shovel was powerfully driven into the earth one more time and he left it to stand by itself. "What can I do for you, Mateil?"
"Leoltus wants you to come to the soldiers' barracks immediately along with most of the servants. He wouldn't say why, but that it was extremely urgent."
Gerid tugged the tool free of the earth and followed. On their arrival at the barracks, they found nearly every male slave that the Holteins owned gathered around the foreman. The men stood in various states of anxiousness awaiting Leoltus' news, but, when Gerid was entering the building, he had spied three men that he had
seen very seldom in his stay at the farm. Karma, the only son of Master Carter Holtein, a dark haired, handsome young man, stood with two of his bodyguards wearing their light armor. Upon seeing the master’s son in his armor, the men all began whispering to each other in their surprise and a new wave of questions were whispered about.
"Quiet! Quiet, all of you," Leoltus ordered. "Master Karma has come to deliver some important news, so be quiet."
The slaves quieted as the young man moved to the center of those gathered there. "I'll get straight to the point. We've had word that there are bandits in the area headed here from the southern hills. We don't know if they're Tolmonan soldiers or simply bandits, but until King Colona can recall a brigade to deal with them, the farms to the south of the capitol are on their own.
"My father cannot come here now, so I will lead you in the defense of our home in his absence."
"And what do we fight with, our hands?" Gerid asked casually.
Karma's eyes narrowed from annoyance. The guardsmen tensed towards their weapons in slight surprise at the rare questioning of the master's authority. Seeing that it was the rather intimidating giant, Gerid who had spoken, Karma held up a restraining hand to his men. Gerid thought that he saw relief in their eyes despite the weapons in their hands. He was nearly a head taller than even the tallest man here and holding a shovel that could be used as a weapon gave him a strong presence within the room. On top of that, they all knew the feats of strength that he had performed in the past months even within the main house as well. "That's why I had you all called here. Though you are all only slaves
and untrained in battle, we still have weapons and shields. There is even leather armor here, such as it is. My men and I can try and show you what we can before the bandits arrive. They may not even arrive here, since the reports are not completely clear, but we must still prepare for the worst."
Gerid didn't bother to reply to what he thought of that type of thinking. There was little that untrained men could learn if they faced real swordsmen, but instead of worrying over that point, the nearly two score slaves spent the next half an hour finding weapons that the mercenaries who had been trained at the Holtein's facilities had left behind. He had taken a stout club studded with nails and a foot and a half long knife for his own. Gerid figured that, if the bandits were well armed, as was probable, then he could steal a proper sword from one of the fallen enemies. If they weren't well armed, of course, the club would suffice in his strong hands.
Leoltus moved over to him clad in mail. Karma had apparently decided that his overseer deserved better than the leathers which would do little more than the clothes that Gerid wore. "Aren't you going to put on some armor, boy? At least grab a shield."
A wry smile crossed his face as he looked up from his seat on a bale of hay. "I'm too big to wear anything in there and a shield just isn't my style. I prefer two weapons. They're a lot quicker and less clumsy. If they use arrows, then I'll worry. Maybe I can hide behind you instead," he suggested with a grin.
The older man laughed, "I'll lend you my shield and hide behind you more likely, thank you." His face began to change as he seemed to reappraise Gerid again. "You seem awfully confident. Were you a soldier already back in your old home despite your young age, boy?"
"I've had some training though not in battle. A few duels that I found myself in with Lord Merrick's soldiers caused most of the circumstances which have brought me here. It was because I won them all, however."
"Excellent." At Gerid's look, the older man amended, "Your training I mean, of course. If those bandits do come, I think that I'll be standing at your side. Master Karma has had some training as has his guards, but I doubt that they've truly been tested in a real battle either. I'll get Baitram, Jatan, and Mateil to join us. They've fought before though they were only trained in the basics before they were sold to the Holteins."
"Do any of the others know how to fight?"
"Not with the sword that I know of."
"Then do you think that we should all stay together or try to lead the others through the attack?"
Leoltus gave him a look that was meant to express the wisdom of all the overseer's years. With a shake of his head, he said gravely, "It may seem nobler to lead them to their probable doom, but we can do more by staying together. I'll get the others."
As the man went to gather the other men who had become nearly like a family to him here, Gerid watched as Karma and his men sparred with the slaves in an effort to show them whatever techniques that they could. He had avoided them until now, but the giant arose from the seat he had taken and moved towards the trio and their students. After a short while of watching closely, he spoke to Karma as he paused, "You're leaving yourself wide open."
"What?" the master’s son cried out in annoyance. With a hand raised to hold back the next student from approaching, Karma stared at his addresser with a mixture of anger and disbelief that any would dare second guess him. "What did you say, boy?"
Gerid nearly laughed at the idea of the twenty year olds use of words for him. He answered instead, "Your shield is too low. If a blow is slashed at your face, you'll be unable to stop it in time."
Karma's face was darkening swiftly with the red of anger at his insubordination. Gerid quickly realized that he had forgotten himself. It hadn't been the first time in his recent life, of course. He just seemed to enjoy ticking off authority figures with or without intention, especially when it was only inherited and not earned. Merrick's soldiers had probably at least earned their positions, but not Karma as far as Gerid was concerned. He almost missed Karma's order. "Prove it," the master said gesturing to a place before him.
"Are you sure, Master Karma? You won't be too angry with me or embarrassed if I show you this?" the young slave asked as he remembered his current status.
The master's eyes crin
kled with disdain and he raised his nose slightly as if he had scented something rotting before him. Karma believed that no common slave, no matter how large, could possibly have learned enough to surpass his own skills learned from his father’s mercenaries. "Now," he ordered again.
Gerid stepped forward already watching the other man carefully, though he still noted the slave students all moving slightly away around them. The area went still as the others all drew back and the guards and their students turned to watch as well. He only half noticed Leoltus' look of worry as he clapped a hand over his eyes as if to block the sight though he quickly lowered it again to watch the event.
Right hand swinging the club half heartedly at the man's shield, the knife slashed quickly behind only to be repelled by the sword in Karma's right hand. The smaller blade danced in a clang from the sword intentionally and counter slashed again towards the man's throat forcing the master to step back to avoid being cut.
The club was in movement again and suddenly it thundered down upon the stout shield. Breath hissed through Karma's teeth as he gritted them from the contact. His eyes opened wider trying to adjust to the strength of the impact as he nearly lost his defense. Valiantly, the young master countered with his sword to drive the slashing knife away. Gerid deflected the attack away easily as he jabbed the club over the lowered shield just short of Karma's nose and stepped back laughing.
"You see? When you drive in with your sword like that, your shield dips. These slaves couldn't see the opening to use it, but someone who does would have slashed your face with a blade. As it is, I could simply have chosen to club you to death instead."
The sounds of Karma's teeth grinding angrily could be heard throughout the renewed silence in the
exercise room. Gerid couldn't help himself as he added, "You might want to consider using a lighter blade as well by the way. That heavy thing is much slower than the light sword that I spied inside earlier. You seem to know how to use a sword well enough otherwise. I think that you’ll want to use your speed rather than power since you are only fighting some bandits. How trained can they be?"
Battle Mage: Winter's Edge Page 50
