Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,172

a cold camp? When would the next officers’ meeting be? How long would they remain in their current location?

Renly saw to it that every officer reached him and then arranged the small meetings that were required to handle more complicated issues—and he dragged Will into every one of them—the bastard. Will dreamt of revenge, but deep down he knew he had learned his lesson. Don’t take your anger out on those who serve you, especially not a militant bureaucrat.

Messengers were sent to Klendon and Maldon to update them on the current state of affairs and to make sure the supplies they needed would keep flowing to the right places. The wounded were treated when possible, and those who were too bad to continue were sent back to Klendon.

Recovering and reorganizing after the losses they had incurred would take days, but many of the important decisions regarding those days had to be made immediately. It was long past midnight before Will was finally allowed to lie down and close his eyes, and he had still not had time to see either Janice or Tiny.

And he hadn’t yet dared to ask about his cousin, Eric. That question sat shuttered away in a dark corner of his heart, a place he dared not look.

The next morning, he met with the Darrowan marshal and offered him a job leading Darrowan recruits, assuming they had any. The man seemed surprised by the subject. “Excuse me?”

“You told me you hated the Patriarch and the Church of the Prophet,” said Will.

Gravholt closed his mouth, then made a diplomatic reply a moment later, “I was overwrought yesterday.”

“You were truthful,” argued Will. “I’ve already interviewed some of your men—”

“You said they would be unharmed,” interrupted the defeated commander, his cheeks flushing with anger.

Will held up his hands in a gesture for peace. “I thought you said my reputation had preceded me. We didn’t torture them, or even compel them to answer.”

Gravholt visibly relaxed. “Oh.”

“From what I could tell, it appears that the Patriarch’s decision to accept help from the Shimerans is extremely unpopular.”

The Darrowan nodded. “It’s worse than that.”

“How much worse?”

“There are rumors of blood rituals and sacrifices to pay for the help of their demons,” answered Gravholt.

Will leaned forward. “Have you seen such things?”

The other man shook his head. “Not personally, but there are a variety of stories passing around among my people.”

Will continued asking questions, quizzing the man on everything from vampires to the mood of the populace. In general, his answers fit with what he’d already learned. The vampires that had been working with the Darrowans were probably few and far between, and even Aaron Gravholt had no knowledge of their involvement. The general populace had heard a lot regarding the Shimerans and their presence in the country, and most weren’t happy about it.

While the Church of the Prophet didn’t seem to enjoy much popularity, it had originally been formed in a time when Darrow had just recovered from a dangerous time that revolved largely around Shimera and its demon cult. Historically, neither the Terabinians or the Darrowans were fond of Shimera, much less the Church of the Iron Fist, which revered the demon-lord Madrok.

Once he was satisfied, Will repeated his offer. “Join us. Lead your men in defense of Darrow.”

Gravholt laughed. “Isn’t that what I was just doing yesterday?”

Will’s face remained serious. “You know it wasn’t, but I’m offering you the chance.”

“What makes you think your King Lognion is any better than the Patriarch?”

Will shrugged in response. “He isn’t, not in a moral sense. From what I’ve learned he’s evil, uncaring, and possibly mad.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this?”

Will continued, “But he knows that his power rests on the people and their prosperity. Privately, he’s sadistic and cruel, but he operates his government on the principle that happy people create a strong, wealthy nation.”

The Darrowan’s eyes grew wide. “And he allows you to speak this way about him and live?”

He nodded. “I’ve refused to even swear fealty to him.”

Gravholt shook his head in disbelief. “Yet he let you marry his daughter and command his army.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s planning to kill me at the first opportunity.”

The Darrowan leader sat quietly for a bit, then asked, “Do I have to swear fealty to your king?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned, though you might later, if you meet him.”

“I’ll swear to you instead,” said Gravholt, and before Will could protest, the man proceeded to do so.

It took him a minute to remember the appropriate