Even Gods Must Fall - Christian Warren Freed Page 0,28
test.”
“Put away your sword, broken king. You cannot harm me. If I chose, you would already be a pile of ashes at my feet.” Amar paused, hovering back slightly just in case. He hadn’t anticipated Badron’s great rage.
“No more lies. No more subterfuge. I’ve listened to you enough. I am the son of kings.” He spread his free arm. “All you see stretching away belongs to me and no other. This is my kingdom, not yours or some damned dark god lacking the balls to claim it himself. Take your filth and leave me. I may die in the process, but I’m ready to test you finally.”
“Perhaps you aren’t as lost as we believed,” Amar said through pursed lips.
“Leave me,” Badron warned.
Amar Kit’han folded his arms across his chest. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. A squad of soldiers, fully armed and led by a young officer, was charging towards their beleaguered monarch. Amar decided it was past time to go. “Very well, but do not be so bold as to assume this is the last you will see of us. As we speak, the Wolfsreik have returned. They’ve laid siege to one of One Eye’s fortresses and are preparing a campaign to reclaim the throne. Your brother and his merry band of misfits drives from the west. They come to kill you. Delranan is a pathetic shell of what it once was. Your petty rule is at an end. Enjoy what little time you have remaining, king.”
Folding time and power, the Dae’shan evaporated as Badron’s soldiers arrived. They abruptly halted, not believing their eyes. Unshaken, the young lieutenant marched up to Badron with a worried look.
“Sire, what was that?”
Badron kept his focus on the residual bits of power, dark colors of green and blue, gradually falling to the ground. His mind struggled, and failed, to resolve what he’d just been told. When at last he shifted his gaze to the officer, his eyes were cloudy. “That, was a mistake.”
“Well, is it true?”
Badron stood with meaty fists planted squarely on his hips. His face was twisted in concern. It had been a very long time since he’d last led soldiers in the field. The campaign into Rogscroft was never his. He begrudgingly admitted to be more of a bother than asset. Rolnir had warned him from the beginning. He chose not to listen. A king wasn’t dictated by the whims of a field general.
Bergen, the same lieutenant who’d glimpsed Amar Kit’han, the only other person in Delranan as far as Badron knew, nodded repeatedly. “The army has returned but it is far worse than you were led to believe, sire. We counted three standards planted near their field command. Ours, Rogscroft, and that of the Pell Darga. They are a combined army.”
Badron scowled. He had but a few hundred fighters. They were all that stood between the traitorous Wolfsreik and the heart of Delranan. They weren’t enough, no matter how many fortresses One Eye managed to construct. He figured there were roughly between two hundred and fifty to five hundred soldiers strung out along the frontier in the seven fortresses guarding the eastern half of Delranan. Three thousand reservists against a force of nearly seven times that much, all seasoned, professional soldiers. Badron didn’t stand a chance.
“It appears I have but one recourse,” he said. “Send riders to every town, hamlet, and village from here to Chadra. Every able-bodied fighter is to report immediately for active duty.”
“That will prove excessively difficult,” Bergen answered amidst the open mouths and shocked looks of the assembled officers.
“I care why?”
Badron was tired of being countered with every order. Nothing had gone the way he’d planned since deploying the Wolfsreik. He’d been fought every step of the way. It was time for the king of Delranan to put his foot down and remind his soldiers who wore the crown.
“Sire, what I meant to say is that the kingdom has already been picked over. Between Harnin’s muster and the plague we are greatly reduced in manpower,” Bergen quickly added, sensing the rising displeasure from Badron.
“Find people. These little wooden playhouses won’t last long once Rolnir gets his entire force in the field. Make them come. I don’t care if you need to clasp them in chains. Do not fail me, lieutenant.”
* * * * *
Soldiers rampaged through the quiet village, rousing everyone in the middle of the night. Torches lit the central plaza as bleary-eyed citizens gradually filed in. Those who complained