Even Gods Must Fall - Christian Warren Freed Page 0,8
the very border of his kingdom, about to depart all he knew and loved, Aurec suddenly felt icy fingers clawing down his spine.
Venten refused to comment. Idle thoughts of death plagued every soldier and king. Aurec should be no different. There were times when it was good to be reminded of the consequence of failure. Venten didn’t fear for Aurec’s life nearly as much as the king did. Brash at times, Aurec was highly capable. Whether he lived or died was out of either of their hands.
“Go with the blessings of all Rogscroft, sire,” the old advisor finally said. “I look forward to hearing of your exploits upon your return.”
Aurec grinned warmly and turned his horse towards the mountains. It wouldn’t do to allow Venten to see the tears building in his eyes. The king rode off, heading towards a war he didn’t fully understand and a fate only the gods might know. Unlike his previous campaigns, Aurec lacked the urgency required for what was to come. He’d never intended on invading Delranan, despite the urgings of his council. He’d already accomplished all of his goals save one. Maleela, princess of Delranan and love of his life, was missing and possibly dead.
The young king had already gone through desperation, fear, regret, and the faintest glimmer of hope since having Maleela ripped away from the sanctity of his castle. Vengeance was all that remained. Vengeance and the prospect of avenging all wrongs committed. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly as he entered the shadows of the pass. Delranan awaited, and with it a new phase in this seemingly unending war.
Venten stood and watched until Aurec entered the cold shadows of the pass. The Murdes Mountains were nightmarish on the best days, but this deep into winter they were near impassable. Cuul Ol and the other Pell Darga tribal leaders reluctantly offered up their secret ways in order to facilitate the army moving rapidly back into Delranan. Trust remained an issue between both factions, but Aurec was confident enough not to let it interfere with the movement of nearly twenty thousand combat soldiers.
“I’ll watch over him. Don’t worry.”
Venten turned to look at Command Sergeant Major Thorsson. The greying veteran was filled with scars, oddly contrasting the freshly sewn-on insignia denoting his recent, and unexpected, promotion. “He needs to stay here in Rogscroft and let one of us act as his proxy.”
Thorsson shrugged. “He’s king. If you couldn’t stop him who can?”
“He’s headstrong and young. Two elements necessary for a quick demise,” Venten countered. He failed to keep the bitterness in his heart from bleeding into his tone.
“Venten, Aurec is all grown up and you’re responsible for the person he’s become. Take it as a compliment. I’m comfortable with him leading the army. You should be as well.” Thorsson turned his head and spit a wad of brown phlegm before wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “We can win this war. Hopefully the mountains will be clear by the time we come home. I’m tired of winter.”
“Winter? Thorsson, there are more inherent dangers in what you’re about to attempt than the prospect of another storm.”
The lifelong soldier grinned savagely. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Take care, Venten. The war may be finished here but Rogscroft is not a safe place.”
“Stay lucky, my friend.”
They shook and Venten finally headed back to his company. They’d set out for the capital in the morning, giving Aurec and most of the main body time to begin their short journey back into combat.
THREE
New Allies
The Dwarf army from Drimmen Delf, nearly four thousand strong, continued the long march towards Delranan. King Thord strode at the head of the winding column. It had been many years since the Dwarves last went to war with any other race than their own. Thord harbored no personal feelings on the matter, insofar as he was concerned he was simply repaying a debt.
The rebellion of the dark Dwarves cost Drimmen Delf dearly but the toll would have been much higher if not for the intervention of Anienam Keiss and Bahr of Delranan. Their combined efforts helped drive Thord’s enemies from the field and secured a lasting friendship between the Dwarf Lord and Bahr, the Sea Wolf. Thord agreed to send an emissary along with Bahr on his quest to recover the Blud Hamr. When the Elf Lord Faeldrin informed him of the dire need to march west to the wars of Man, Thord was honor bound to accept.