Even Gods Must Fall - Christian Warren Freed Page 0,32
be interrupted, even at the cost of all fifty thousand Goblins.”
“They will obey their orders or Thrask will flay them alive.” Maleela bowed her head meekly as the Dae’shan hovered closer. “The enemy will not penetrate our lines, but you owe me my revenge.”
Amar laughed, a hissing sound reminding Maleela of a dying serpent. “You shall have your revenge. King Badron does not yet know it, but he marches to his impending demise.”
“That’s all I care about.” Maleela scowled but held her tongue. She’d said her piece and was loath to push much further.
The Dae’shan collected power around him and dissolved away, leaving Maleela reeling in shock and sudden sickness. She dropped to a knee and retched her breakfast. She failed to see General Thrask peering cautiously at her from behind the command tent.
NINE
The Wolfsreik Returns
Black smoke clouded the air over what remained of the enemy fortress. Vultures and crows flocked just out of arrow range, eager for the survivors to depart. Bodies littered the inner courtyard amidst a sea of broken spears and arrows. Soldiers searched the dead, ensuring there were no pretend victims capable of a surprise attack. The sickly sound of steel piercing flesh echoed occasionally throughout the fortress.
Piper clipped his helmet to his belt, removed a soiled leather glove, and wiped the sweat and grime from his face. He’d survived more battles than a professional soldier in his position should have. This was but another in a long, unending war. It pained him to look down on so many countrymen. The defenders weren’t necessarily bad people. Just because they were forced to support Harnin One Eye on his foolish crusade didn’t turn them evil. They were kinsmen, brothers in what had once been the strongest kingdom of the north. Greed and apathy changed all of that.
“Commander Joach, we have a few prisoners. The rest of the garrison is dead,” announced a grim-faced lieutenant. Blood ran from a small cut under his right eye.
Piper winced. He guessed there were over three hundred defenders. Three out of three hundred. How many more need to shed their lives in this foolhardy crusade? Will the gods ever be satisfied with our sacrifices? “Bring the survivors to me. General Rolnir will want to glean as much intelligence from them as possible before sending them away.”
“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant threw a crisp salute, impressive considering how long the army had been in the field, and spun off barking orders.
Only three. Piper respected the defenders’ willingness to fight until the last but failed to understand their passion. Most soldiers would have surrendered the moment they realized they were impossibly outnumbered. They knew they were fighting countrymen. Didn’t they? What possible lies could Harnin have spun to drive them into such fervor? For the first time in many years Piper felt stymied with unanswerable problems.
There were no reasons he could imagine to make any soldier, especially part-time reservists, fight to the death against a battle-hardened, seasoned army. None. The Wolfsreik second in command assumed it was witchcraft or worse. Coldness prickled his skin at the very thought that the same dark powers ever lurking behind Badron might have worked their way deep into Delranan to corrupt all. Confronting armies was one matter, fighting full-fledged fanatics something far worse. He had no tools capable of fighting magic.
Seeing no point in pursuing such troubling thoughts, Piper looked back to the ruins of the outer wall. He’d hoped to be able to capture the fortress intact, using it as a base of operations once the army readied to make the push west. Such was impossible now, at least not without massive reconstruction efforts. Neither he nor General Rolnir had the time to dedicate to such a mundane task. The war needed to continue at as rapid of a pace as possible. King Aurec wanted the campaign ended and his army returned to Rogscroft before summer.
Stepping over a pair of defenders’ corpses, Piper grimaced at the gruesome way both had been killed. Wide, red stripes ran diagonally down their chests, spilling out onto a grim combination of mud and partially melted snow. Their open eyes seemed to glare skyward, as if accusing the gods of failing them. Piper began to suspect drug use. It seemed the only viable assumption given how animalistic the defense had been.
None of the interior structures remained intact. Whoever had commanded ordered the buildings set on fire to prevent the Wolfsreik from claiming them. A prudent choice considering all of the defenders intended on