Harlan pretended to frown and emptied his pipe. “A cruel mistress she is, Orlek. Soon she’ll have us shoveling snow to make a proper ambush sight before too long.”
Ingrid rolled her eyes and waved them out the door. They had much to do before she would be comfortable enough to sleep again. Her greatest fears were breathing down her neck. Harnin and his army were coming to get her. Led by an overly vindictive Inaella, he would stop at nothing in catching and killing them all. Ingrid couldn’t let that happen. The time had come to take the fight back to the One Eye.
* * * * *
Harnin ripped his dagger from the chest of scout and kicked the body to the ground before he died. Thin ropes of crimson blood splashed down around the poor Man. The second scout meekly bowed his head, hoping to avoid the same fate. The lord of Delranan eyed the trembling soldier harshly. His dagger waivered. Blood dripped slowly from the exposed blade.
“You dare bring me news of this sort?” he raged.
“My lord, our captain thought it wise to dispatch us with the news immediately. Our losses were severe.” The scout’s words came quickly and lacked confidence.
Harnin lifted his dagger. “Stop speaking. I have grown tired of the gross incompetence surrounding me. Go back to your captain with orders to continue operations. I want the rebels found and executed. Leave me before I decide to mount your head on a pike.”
Saluting, the scout bowed and hurried off before Harnin changed his mind. Skaning and Jarrik exchanged nervous looks while deciding what to say. Harnin’s mood continued to devolve into borderline madness. Reason slipped through his fingers the longer the war drug on. Compounding matters was the inevitable return of the main army. The only way Harnin would be able to deal with Badron and the Wolfsreik effectively was through crushing the rebellion and putting the rebels in chains on the front lines. They’d die horribly but they might take enough of the Wolfsreik with them to make a difference in the outcome of the war.
Already on the fringes, Jarrik decided he had nothing to lose. “That could have been handled better, Harnin. Killing our own people doesn’t endear you to them and we need every available body to fight the war in the east.”
“Don’t make the assumption that I need your counsel, Jarrik. You have failed me too many times already. It’s not much of a stretch to imagine you with Argis’s face,” Harnin seethed. “I may need every loyal citizen but I do not need the fractious actions you seem so fond of.”
“I am merely bringing forth a different point of view, Harnin. The war isn’t going well for us. The plague should have all but ended our problems but Ingrid was able to escape with Argis’s body. Inaella has been helpful but not highly effective.”
Throwing the dagger into the already battered oak table, Harnin stalked back to his throne with a dire look haunting his face. “Perhaps I need to send the two of you west. That way if the enemy does overrun us I won’t have to worry about either of you fouling my plans in the future.”
Skaning finally spoke up. He’d sat in the background for too long. Lords were changing so rapidly he felt sure it was time to ascend to a higher position. As one of the last remaining old lords, he had just as much authority and knowledge of how Delranan worked as any of them. “Lord Harnin, sending Jarrik would certainly show our seriousness at eradicating the problem but will also leave us vulnerable on the eastern front. We will have need of quality commanders when Badron does decide to return.”
“Very well, I accept your offer. Take command of the troops in the east, Skaning. Our enemies will be coming soon, at winter’s end in the least.”
“Who will command here in Chadra?” Skaning asked in protest. Harnin’s command threw him off guard, leaving the bigger Man exposed.
Harnin fixed his eye on both Men. His intent was clear. There was to be no discussion on this matter. No chance to change his mind. “I will. This city belongs to me, what little remains of it. If it is to fall it will do so with me standing atop these very walls. I want both of you to leave before the end of the week. Neither Ingrid nor Badron will be so generous with their timelines. Take the fight back to the enemy and drive them into the open. Jarrik, you will have three thousand troops at your disposal. Find the rebels and crush them. Do not fail me again, Jarrik. I had no qualms with taking the head of one friend. A second will bother me less.”
Jarrik could only nod and march away. There’d come a time and place to try and end Harnin’s treachery, but it wasn’t here. Chadra Keep was ripe with insecurities, hampering any efforts to overthrow Harnin. He had no other choice but to accept his assignment. Furious, Jarrik stormed through the wooden halls to find Inaella. The sooner they left this city of the dead the better.
Inaella jumped at the sudden knocking on her door. She’d been confined to quarters, for lack of a better term, since her last confrontation with Harnin. The One Eye continued to blame her for all of his woes, including the loss of Argis’s corpse and Ingrid. She’d been refused numerous audiences and put under guard. Her only grace came from not being confronted by the mysterious shadow figure from the hallway again. The knocking intensified, propelling her out of her chair to answer it. Jarrik was the last person she expected to see when she cracked the heavy wooden frame.
“Open the door, Inaella,” he said with a frown. “It seems we are to work together once again.”
“What do you mean?” She failed to keep the surprise from her voice. Inaella never expected to see the outdoors again, at least not until the executioner came to take her head.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Harnin has deemed it necessary for us to travel northwest in an effort to hunt down and destroy the rebellion.”
Inaella hesitated. She’d come to view her captors with great disdain, fearing them to be lesser Men than she had imagined during the height of her power. Harnin was a petty tyrant playing at something greater. Jarrik and the others were mere sycophants in comparison. The sudden change of heart offered the barest glimmer of hope but left her wondering how long before she felt the cold kiss of steel plunging into her back.
“I thought I had fallen out of favor,” she replied tersely. “Harnin is as callous as he is shallow. Why not kill me now and be done with it? I cannot stand this absent torture any longer!”
“Torture? You know nothing. The sickness of Harnin goes far beyond mere torture. He is influenced by dark powers. They drive him mad while the kingdom suffers. Still, he is in command and his orders stand. Gather your belongings. We leave in the morning.”
The door slammed shut, leaving Inaella trapped in her solitude with a new set of nightmares keeping her company. It seemed each new dilemma offered only death. The pock-marked plague survivor was coming increasingly close to welcoming it. Delranan had become a horrible land.
THIRTY-THREE
The Trap is Set
Aurec crumbled the paper in his hands and cast it into the fire. One arm on the mantle, he gently lowered his head and closed his eyes. Tears threatened to spring forth and it was all he could do not to let them. Rolnir and the others wouldn’t understand his exposed weakness, not after all they’d been through over the course of the winter. Instead the young king closed his eyes and tried to focus on the positive. Rogscroft was free of the Delrananian invaders. The kingdom belonged to the rightful rulers. The war, which had claimed so many lives and brought ruin to all corners of his kingdom, had finally come to an end. Not the end he envisioned when accepting Rolnir’s alliance, but an end nonetheless.
There was no point in delaying the inevitable conversation with his closest advisors. They all knew what the message said, even if they hadn’t read it. Aurec’s reaction told them more than they needed to know. Badron had escaped. He’d managed, somehow, to elude a sizeable cavalry force and Cuul Ol’s Pell Darga hunters and found passage out of Rogscroft with the remnants of his loyalist forces. The end Aurec so desperately desired crumbled through his fingers. He took a few deep breaths to clear his mind and calm his nerves before turning back
to those assembled.
“Badron’s gone. Piper and his force arrived in Dredl too late.”
Venten felt his heart clutch deep within his chest. “Perhaps they avoided Dredl in favor of a smaller port. We all knew they were en route to the town. Badron was no fool.”
“No, Venten. He’s gone. A second set of scouts returned with a detailed report. Several key townsfolk corroborated the facts. He commandeered a small fleet of pirates, for lack of better terms, to take him back to Delranan.”
Rolnir bore the brunt of the news with unusual passion. His loyalty to Badron died the moment the Goblins enacted their campaign of atrocities. He wanted the capture of his former king more than any one of those gathered, except for Aurec, whose personal hurt went deeper than most, and was willing to risk all on the endeavor. Piper’s reports were disheartening. There’d be no easy way of stopping Badron once he returned to Delranan. Worse, the Wolfsreik wouldn’t be able to return until the snows in the mountain passes melted enough to permit passage. Wheels already started turning. He’d make his people dig through the passes if necessary. Anything to get to Badron before the king managed to worm his way back into Chadra Keep.
“We’re left at a severe disadvantage,” he said dryly. “There’s no conceivable way for us to get the bulk of the army back into Delranan before Badron has time to enact the next phase of his plan.”
“A plan we don’t know,” General Vajna suggested. “He wants to reclaim his kingdom but that doesn’t mean he won’t find a way to reconcile with Harnin. Those two seem cut from the same cloth. I don’t trust either as far as I can spit.”
“Nor should you. Badron and Harnin were once very close, but there was always a strange undercurrent between them,” Rolnir explained. “They each had visions of Delranan’s future quite opposite from each other. Harnin won’t be so quick to relinquish what he’s taken and Badron lacks the military power to do it.”
“Unless the soldiers in Delranan go back to the king,” Aurec suggested. “Surely they’ll feel obligated to follow king over advisor.”
“Possibly,” Rolnir said slowly, “but unlikely. The soldiers of the reserves have been under Harnin’s command for many months. They’ll enjoy the freedoms he offers and won’t sell themselves cheaply just because Badron returns.”
“This would all be a damned bit easier if we had a way of knowing what was happening there. The Murdes Mountains are an imposing natural barrier working against us,” Venten said and slammed a fist into his palm. “We’re effectively blind to all goings-on beyond our own borders.”
“I agree, and that needs to change,” Aurec answered. “Perhaps our Pell friends can offer assistance. They’d be able to sneak down into the lowlands and discover what we need so we can plan accordingly.”
“Cuul Ol and his people have been great assets in the prosecution of the war, Your Majesty, but they never promised to do more than liberate the kingdom. We might be asking too much,” the older advisor replied.
“I don’t see a choice, Venten. Our options are exceedingly limited. Best case scenario is to move the army to the base of the mountains and wait for the thaw. Time is decidedly against us since this winter had been worse than any in recent memory. We can cut down on response time by pre-staging the army at each of the three major passes. Doing so will not only cut down on movement times but give us greater opportunity to deploy our forces once they reach the far side of the mountains.” Aurec stopped to look at the map hastily plastered to the near wall.
Much of the castle renovations were proceeding well enough despite the inordinate amount of filth and sheer havoc Badron caused. The cleaning would take months. Time for Aurec to execute his campaign in the west.
Rolnir rose and went to the map. He wished he had as much detailed intelligence when planning the invasion of Rogscroft. Perhaps the war would have ended sooner and the Goblins wouldn’t have arrived. “Sounds plausible. These passes are large enough to funnel five abreast. We could have the bulk of our combat strength in Delranan by the end of the first day. Dawn of the second at the latest. Supply trains and follow-on forces can continue to trickle down while the main body establishes a front and prepares to move towards Chadra.”
“Provided Harnin isn’t expecting us,” Vajna added. “It seems to me that the Man will be expecting your return and the only way to move an army as large as the Wolfsreik is through the Murdes Mountains.”
“Sergeant Major Thorsson, what do you think?” Aurec asked the freshly minted senior enlisted advisor to the new army.
Thorsson couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable given the situation. He’d been a line soldier for so long with few aspirations. Being thrust into the spotlight left him feeling inadequate on levels he didn’t know he had. Saving Aurec had been a thoughtless act, one any soldier in his position would have done. He never anticipated that singular deed would place him at the pinnacle of the enlisted ranks.
“We should expect Harnin, with depleted forces, to come at us the same way we went after you, General, when the Wolfsreik first invaded,” Thorsson said flatly. “No disrespect intended, but they’ll be the guerillas this time.”
“None taken, Sergeant Major. You provide sound advice but we have one major advantage Harnin isn’t counting on,” Rolnir said thoughtfully. “The Wolfsreik has already encountered a guerilla campaign and has learned how to adapt tactics to successfully counter it. We also have the additional benefit of your armies to further hamper Harnin’s forces. Remember, his soldiers are the reserves. They didn’t train full time, nor did they muster when we did. We all share the same uniform but our levels of training are vastly different. Once I can establish a cavalry line with infantry support I don’t foresee any problems with rolling through whatever defense they’ve established.”
Aurec moved closer to study the map. He’d been to Delranan several times but normally under the cover of darkness. His liaisons with Maleela were forbidden by both fathers, forcing the pair to sneak their way through life. What little he knew of the Delranan terrain was hampered by these facts. He needed Rolnir more than ever.
“Rolnir, can you find areas large enough to bivouac fifteen thousand soldiers, horses, supplies, and wagons?” he asked.
The redheaded general’s eyebrow peaked. “Fifteen? What about the other five?”
“I need to keep something back in reserve in the event the unexpected happens. Can you retake Delranan with fifteen thousand?”
He half shook his head. “More than likely. We’ll be faced with supply issues from the beginning. We have the advantage of numbers but Harnin’s had time to establish quality defenses. Fighting on our own kingdom is a level playing field. The only unknown is whether he’s turned the populace in his favor or not.”
“Civilians on the battlefield get in the way more than not,” Vajna said. Rogscroft had its own problems with that issue in the initial stages of the invasion. Hundreds of civilians wanting to do their part for their kingdom were killed through their own ignorance. Farmers didn’t make good fighters.
“True but enough of them with rudimentary training can hamper an army to the point of failure,” Rolnir countered. “We can’t take the chance. Our combined forces must be prepared to encounter all scenarios.”
Aurec disliked the idea of fighting civilians. Or with them for that matter. He’d witnessed firsthand how families were torn apart needlessly. Meaning to do good, they broke and ran when the enemy pressed too hard. They lacked cohesion born from endless hours of training on the parade fields. Fighting them proved more problematic for a myriad of reasons. Each one killed was someone’s father, son, or brother. Sometimes even mothers and daughters. Soldiers were trained to combat other soldiers, not civilians.
“We need to take every precaution not to kill the civilians. Disarm and capture them but not kill. We’re not going there to make war on Delranan itself. All I want is for Badron to pay for his crimes. Killing the general population won’t speed that effort.”
Rolnir r
ubbed his tired eyes. They burned from overuse and he’d had a constant headache for the last three days. “You want Badron. I want Harnin. The only way to save Delranan is by removing both of them. Your Majesty, this is not going to be easy. Many of my soldiers will have deep-felt issues about attacking their homeland. Even if they don’t voice it, that concern will linger in their minds with every engagement, in every village we move through. Remember that armies survive by foraging off the land. Ours will be no different. The only problem is we’ll be taking from the very people we’ve come to protect.”
Aurec suppressed the urge to laugh. “I think it’s safe to assume we have more than just rampant foraging to worry about. Soldiers cut loose have the ability to do more harm than good while on campaign. While I don’t think we need to worry about rape or murder, the possibility is there. They’ve been at war for a long time. Getting out of that frame of mind will be beyond difficult, especially once they see what has happened to their homes.”
“There’s nothing that can be done to cushion that particular shock, Aurec,” Rolnir said. “Our best bet is to push through the temporary pain and accomplish what we’re setting out to do. There will be time to pick up the pieces when it’s finished.”
“Speaking of which,” Venten interrupted hesitantly, “what exactly are our objectives? Obviously the capture of Badron and Harnin, but what else? Delranan is a large kingdom, roughly twice the size of Rogscroft. How far do we need to advance in order to consider the campaign successful?”
Aurec looked to Rolnir. They were allies but each had differences of opinion concerning the Delranan campaign. Grave injustices needed to be answered for, not only here in Rogscroft but back in Rolnir’s own kingdom. Aurec would be happy with the complete removal of all vestiges of Harnin’s leadership though he suspected Rolnir wanted a great deal more.
“Our goals should be the same as they were here in Rogscroft. Chadra needs to be reclaimed. All of Harnin’s loyal forces rounded up and detained long enough to prove their loyalty. None of Badron’s former lords can be allowed to escape. They are just as much to blame for the downfall of our great kingdom as Harnin. Nothing less than the complete and total change of regime is acceptable.”
Empire of Bones Page 29
