BlackThorn's Doom Page 0,50

you by this news?” Yoladt asked.

“A Morne messenger spoke of it. We ambushed him and a companion not far from here. He told of the warriors before his death.” Turlock answered. “But his knowledge of our language was limited and he was on deaths doorstep at the time.”

Yoladt nodded at the man’s response.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” The thin warrior named Ild spoke, a thick scar across his lips slurring his words. “What was it like beyond the Vurgwall?”

“A land like no other,” Connell answered. “Nothing is as it seems, poisonous plants and fire scorched earth. In places black water explodes out of the very earth, boiling columns that soar hundreds of feet in the air.

“At the heart of it all stands the broken remains of Trothgar, its very core aflame. The mountain rumbles and spews thick clouds of black ash that burns as it falls from the sky.

“And the sky above is filled with thick boiling clouds that hurl sheets of fire across the heavens at one another. An unending battle being waged over a forest of diseased trees that give shelter to all manner of nightmarish creatures.”

The Warriors looked on Connell and Yoladt with respect, these men had dared to go where no sane man would ever venture. They had gone into the very heart of the black land and have returned to tell the tale.

“Where will you go now?” Turlock asked.

“Into the mouth of the lion Turlock.” Connell answered looking to the east. “I am returning to Timosh, it is there where I will make my stand.”

Turlock held out his sword, hilt first towards Connell. “Then accept my service.” He said with his head bowed.

Connell gently pushed the sword aside. “Nay Turlock, though you and your men are worthy.” Connell said with a grim smile. “I am going to my doom and I would have no man honor bound to follow me there.”

Turlock sheathed his blade. “I will follow nonetheless, where the bearer of the eagle brand goes so shall I.”

The other warriors stepped forward to stand alongside Turlock, their faces both proud and stern.

“It seems that we all shall go.” Turlock said with a smile.

Connell exhaled loudly and nodded his acceptance. “Have you horses?”

“Aye,” Turlock answered while pointing to the south. “Over that rise, four of Trondhiem’s best.”

“Then let us be off,” Connell said leading his mount up the hillside. “We have some eighty or more miles to travel.”

“Closer to a hundred.” Ild offered. “Horses do not travel as a crow would fly.”

“We also have some spare clothing.” Turlock added.

Connell plucked at the sleeve of his soiled Morne robe. “If it would get me out of this I’d wear a jester’s cap and gown.”

Over the hill they entered a shallow vale surrounded by a thin stand of twisted oaks. Within the copse stood four horses, calmly chewing yellow grass. They were powerfully built chargers, though a bit lean from the scant winter forage.

Turlock opened a bundle from the pile of tack lying upon the ground. He tossed a heavy cloak of mottled white to Connell; a moment later another was passed to Yoladt.

Connell allowed the Morne cloak to slip from his shoulders and to fall upon the trampled snow. He was thankful to be rid of the foul smelling cloth as he pulled the white cloak over his dark mail and fastened the clasp at his shoulder.

Connell arranged the heavy cloth and noticed a dark stain upon its breast and a small hole in its middle.

Turlock could see what held Connell’s attention. “It was my younger brothers.” He said softly. “He has no use of it now, a Morne arrow saw to that.”

Connell could hear the grief in the man’s voice. “Blessed are the few who have not felt the sting of loss these days.”

“Aye, Death’s shadow stretches far.” Turlock said while saddling his mount. Once finished he swung up into the saddle and gathered his reins into his hand. “We must ride as silently as possible.” He warned. “The horde is vast and many scouts scour this land.”

They covered a few miles coming to a hidden campsite used by Turlock and his men. The sky to the east brightened as the sun crested the horizon.

“We should rest here, mi lord.” Turlock suggested. “It is best to travel in darkness and a small fire goes unnoticed in the sunlight.”

Connell nodded, he was weary from his trek through the pass. “A warm cup of tea and food fit for a man would be most welcome.” He