Even Gods Must Fall - Christian Warren Freed Page 0,73
Those of you who wish to leave may do so with my blessing and good will. This will be no easy task and I fear many of us will not survive. Win or lose we will make such a name for ourselves that all history will tremble from awe!”
Ingrid walked off amidst undying cheers. Her voice carried conviction she hadn’t felt since the beginning of the war. Proud of herself beyond measure, the blond warrior-queen of Delranan hurried to make plans. Much remained to be done if she was going to get her army to Arlevon Gale in time.
Two hundred volunteers marched behind her. They walked with dour faces and steeled resolve. Sword and shovel were sheathed and slung over their shoulders. The ground was much too frozen to dig in, so Ingrid and a handful of engineers devised a strategy to cover the remains with stone and pine boughs until the spring thaw. Some would be burned so that their trapped spirits would return to the gods. The rest would have to wait for months, if any rebels managed to return at all.
Ingrid marched at their head, her shoulders back and erect. She neglected taking her horse, knowing it would go further among her rebels to present herself as one of them rather than in charge. Bahr and Anienam accompanied them, the spindly wizard sitting aside a swayback horse. He cackled with bad jokes in an attempt at livening the mood. He failed. The rebels were too entrenched in their moods to think positively.
“How much further?” Bahr asked Ingrid.
She gestured ahead. “Not much. We should be there before too long. The scouts have already come back with reports the area is clear of enemy activity.”
“That doesn’t mean they aren’t hiding somewhere. Goblins are known for their dislike of sunlight. They might easily be holed up for the day,” he countered.
“With fifty thousand warriors? Where in Delranan could a force that large hide undetected? No, Bahr, I believe my scouts.”
Ingrid fell silent, her thoughts already racing ahead to the scene she was about to witness. Her stomach felt ill and it was going to take all her inner strength to maintain control in front of the others when the killing grounds came into view. She’d grown accustomed, reluctantly, to the horrors of warfare but worried it might not be enough. Some atrocities just shouldn’t be glossed over, especially when it concerned a full third of her fighting strength.
“Been lost like a pickle in a tree!” Anienam exploded suddenly and burst out in laughter.
Bahr’s mouth fell open as he turned back to stare at the wizard. “Have you gone daft?”
Anienam broke his laughter. “Eh? What’s your problem now? I haven’t done anything wrong. Just minding myself and passing the time.”
“With dreams of pickles?” Ingrid asked.
The wizard shrugged. “I like pickles. Crunchy or soft they both taste good. It’s been a long time since I last enjoyed a good pickle.”
“But what would one be doing in a tree?” she asked.
“Ha! Exactly my point!” Anienam fell back into a fit. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and down past his blindfold. He mumbled under his breath. “Pickles in a tree. As if!”
Ingrid looked back at Bahr. “Perhaps I was mistaken. He definitely seems to have cracked his skull.”
“More times than I can remember, but I’m far from done. Don’t you fret any. Just because I’m blind doesn’t make me feeble. You’ll see. You all will, I’m afraid. There’s a terrible storm coming that none of us can escape.”
“Thank you, Master Keiss, but I will keep to my own consort for the time being,” Ingrid replied, her voice terse, strained.
“Still think so highly of him?” Bahr whispered.
Ingrid shot him an angry glare.
Work was slow, many pausing long enough to vomit. Rags were wrapped around mouths and noses to prevent the stench from overpowering them. Most of the corpses had been all but devoured, whether by Goblins or carrion eaters remained unknown. The rebels were slow at first. More than one made warding signs against evil while others closed their eyes to pray. Ingrid offered her prayers to the gods with less conviction than a season before. Bahr’s explanation of his quest left the foundations of her faith shaken.
She personally counted more than seven hundred remains. “Bodies” wasn’t a fair term considering so many had been devoured. Blood trails dragged off eastward into the snow. No doubt the Goblin army took the other bodies to consume along their march. It sickened her to