Tides of Blood and Steel (12 page)

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Authors: Christian Warren Freed

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Epic, #Paranormal & Urban, #Sword & Sorcery, #Arthurian, #Teen & Young Adult

BOOK: Tides of Blood and Steel
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“He told us how to find this legendary Venheim. Take the Borgin Pass and ride west. After a day we’d find a row of jagged boulders that spiral both up and
down from the overhead shelves of rock. The ‘teeth of the dragon,’ he called them. They’d be enshrouded in mist and tinged red from the substance of the stone. They marked the entrance to the land of Giants. Find that and we would find what we seek. The shaman disappeared and left us with a dire warning: ‘Be careful what you seek, for death is ever its companion.’ The captain thanked him and pushed us forward into the mountains of death.”

“This will not end well,” Dorl whispered.

Even Boen seemed shaken by the tale.

“Ha!” barked Ionascu. “This is madness. You’ll lead us all to our deaths.”

“The future remains clouded, even to the likes of me. There is no other way. Only in Venheim will we learn where the Blud Hamr rests. We have no choice,” Anienam calmly replied.

Undaunted, Ionascu continued, “That is madness and you know it!”

“What’s the matter, old man? Lost the lust for revenge after a good night’s sleep?” Boen chided. “If you are afraid, don’t step up.”

“And what fears accompany your dreams, killer?” he snapped back. Venom dripped from his words.

The Gaimosian bristled. “My kind do not know fear.”

“Then you are fools.”

“Enough of this!” Bahr shouted. “There is business to attend to. Like it or not, we are heading into the mountains. Anienam has shown us the way, now we need to move. Our enemies will not wait.”

“My uncle is right. The faster we move the better. Aurec and the Pell Darga are using the mountain passes for war against my father. I do not like the thought any better than you, but I have been there myself. The danger is not the mountains, but the men who use them,” Maleela told them quietly. The constant bickering wore her down and she was tired of it.

“I’d still rather go up against the Wolfsreik,” Dorl said. “That old bastard has the right of it. This is madness.”

Bahr ignored them. He gave his niece a mighty hug, for her words both inspired and shamed him. Shamed them all.

Boen watched, allowing a tight smile. “What is our next move?”

“Supplies and weapons. There’s a small trading town about two days south of here. I’ve got enough money to equip us for a long journey. Something tells me Venheim is not going to be the end of this,” Bahr replied.

Anienam nodded agreement. “Tokens of power should not be easily found, lest the keepers be tempted to use them carelessly.”

“If you ask me, people need to stop making things like that under the pretense of keeping the rest of us safe,” Dorl told them.

Anienam hid his surprise. The sell sword had more layers than he showed. “Such affairs are beyond our control.”

“Enough talk. Let’s be about it before that bastard Harnin sniffs us out,” Bahr said.

The group broke into action. Daylight streamed through the windows.

 

TEN

The Hags

Amar Kit’han listened to the wind howl angrily across the open plains like a lover stolen from his home. He scowled from within the shadows of his hood. The Dae’shan did not like that old feeling of hopelessness trying to worm back into his psyche. Not even the daunting span of thousands of years were enough to ease the storm brewing in his mind’s eye. He was angry. The fabric of his carefully wrought plans threatened to tear apart.

“They are on their way,” Kodan Bak told him as he stalked up behind.

Amar said nothing.

The lesser Dae’shan took that as a sign to continue voicing his compounding concerns. “Why have you summoned them? The situation is still within our control.”

Amar Kit’han passed a condescending glare. “Much has changed. The Hags have never failed us.”

“I do not understand. We do not need the Hags to manage this. What do you know that you are not telling me?” pressed Bak.

“Delranan is in uproar. Bahr and the princess have escaped.” His voice was uncharacteristically flat.

“Without them in custody,” Kodan Bak let the thought die on his lips.

Three great winged figures circled high overhead. The wisp of clouds partially concealed them from the ground. The Hags. Kodan narrowed his eyes. Once they deemed the area was clear, the Hags tucked back their ugly wings and dove. The Dae’shan had had a hundred dealings with the Hags over the centuries and each subsequent time seemed worse. One by one they landed. The largest of the three stepped forward on long, clawed feet and bowed her head.

Amar Kit’han waved off the gesture. “Freina, how good of you to come on such short notice.”

She hissed. It was a terrible sound capable of destroying a mortal’s eardrum. “We come because we have no choice, undead one.”

Amar smiled at the memory. The Dae’shan came upon the three sisters long ago and bound them to the dark crusade. The relationship was testy at best. The Hags took every opportunity to rail against their masters. They’d suffered great indignities through the decades. Amar disregarded their grievances. The sisters were nothing more than tools to an end.

Freina and her sisters were Harpies, three of the last from the great northern roosts. Each was over seven feet tall with the head and torso of Human women. Their legs were those of great birds, the soft feathers an ugly brownish-grey. Their fingers extended into razor sharp claws. Needlepoint teeth protruded from both jaws. Stringy black hair hung down past their shoulders, littered with old skulls and other signs of past kills. It was the eyes that Kodan hated most. Eyes that were cold and emotionless. Eyes that pleaded for death, either to give or to receive. He had never met another creature so desperate to die and that frightened him.

Harpies had once roamed across the north, but angry kings hunted them to the point of extinction. And for good reasons. Freina and her sisters rained terror down upon every village they came across. They mercilessly snatched up small children and animals for food or sport. Some of the larger kingdoms successfully warded them off while others offered sacrifices to slake their bloodlust.

Freina clenched her claws into ragged simulacrums of fists.

“I have a task for you,” Amar said.

She hissed again.

For his part he refused to gaze into those cold, black eyes. She, like all of her kin, was a hideous creature. Freina’s face was abnormally long, the chin littered with stray strands of hair. Her cheeks were sunken, giving her face a hollow draw. Amar often wondered what ancient hatred created such creatures.

None of the Harpies wore much clothing. A simple loincloth covered the parts no one particularly wanted to see. Hair and down covered their breasts and stomach. Each wore a necklace of skulls and bones. Perhaps the Hags maintained a more Human side than they typically showed.

“What this time?” Freina asked. Her mocking tone was meant to insult.

Amar ignored her as best he could. “There is a person of great importance who has escaped me.”

She made a birdlike clucking sound from the base of her throat. “Man or woman?”

“A woman. She is the princess of Delranan. I want her found and brought to me alive and unharmed.”

The Hag scowled. She idly fingered one of her skull charms. “A princess would make a fine addition to our trophies.”

“Alive and unharmed,” he reiterated. “Disobey me and the three of you will beg for death. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

Her straightforwardness bothered him for reasons unknown. Freina and her two sisters, Garelda and Brom, were not keen on subservience. They killed without discretion and continually struggled to find freedom from the Dae’shan. The sisters were notorious for pushing the limits of his authority. He danced around the thought of striking them dead now.

Amar Kit’han was already tired of the conversation. “Go now. Find the princess and follow her. I want her brought to me. She will be travelling with companions. Kill them as you see fit, but do not harm the girl.”

Freina cackled laughter and launched back into the sky. Garelda and Brom followed wordlessly. A score of black feathers drifted down in their wake, leaving the two Dae’shan in solitude.

“They are disgusting creatures,” Kodan Bak snarled.

“They serve their purpose.” Amar brushed a feather from his robes.

“We can find better and more useful servants on Malweir than that.”

“None that can fly. The great dragons are all but memories now and no other race would succumb easily,” Amar reminded.

Kodan folded his hands within his robes and began to disappear. “What do we do now? Badron is concerned over the enemy raids on his supply lines. I fear the king might not be our best choice.”

“Let the mortals deal with their own problems. Every death serves our purpose. Besides, the Goblin army will be here by the end of the month. Rogscroft and her people will cease to exist and the path will be open for us. If Badron becomes too much of a problem, there is always another one can turn if needs be.”

* * * * *

“Damnation!”

Piper Joach cleared his throat of phlegm as his friend and commander raved throughout the command tent.

“That’s two supply convoys lost in a week,” Rolnir snarled at his commanders.

“Sir, the enemy is well hidden, it is impossible to hunt them down in these bloody mountains.”

Rolnir spun sharply on Colonel Harper. “Thank you for that wonderful bit of insight! Don’t tell me what I already know. I want to know how we are going to protect these supplies. Or do I need to remind you that winter is nearly upon us and there is only so much we can forage from this damned land?”

No one spoke.

He snorted. “Now you are quiet? What the Hells am I paying you for?”

Piper decided it was time to weigh in and save his peers further embarrassment. “General, our army is stretched thin already. The advance on Rogscroft proper demands more men and resources. I think we all know what needs to be done.”

“I’m listening.”

“Take a battalion and burn them out,” Piper finished.

Colonel Ulaf unsuccessfully tried to conceal a gasp. “You’d declare war on the Pell Darga by doing so.”

“Which is nothing less than what they’ve already done,” Piper told him flatly.

Rolnir stared at his friend. His face was more sallow than usual. Dark bags looked permanently entrenched around his blue eyes. He hadn’t shaved in over two weeks. Piper Joach was a changed man. His very thought centered on violence. His hatred of Rogscroft and Prince Aurec demanded fulfillment.

“We cannot risk open war on another front,” Herger told them. “We are still vulnerable until our full strength is amassed.”

Rolnir asked, “What is our current strength?”

“Eighty percent more or less,” Piper readily supplied. “Regular army reserves are being deployed as well. As you know, they are mainly support troops. There are a few infantry battalions, but nothing up to Wolfsreik standards.”

The regular army was roughly the same size as Rolnir’s army. They had the same natural aggressiveness as the Wolfsreik, but lacked the training and logistics structure. That wasn’t to suggest they weren’t good in battle. They just weren’t
as
good. Rolnir admitted that he seldom gave them thought. Never in his long career had he seen them used in front line actions. He had an odd feeling that that was about to change.

Folding his arms across his chest, the general asked, “How soon can we expect them to deploy and in what kind of numbers?”

“No later than the end of the month and roughly with three thousand men. They will more than make up for our losses thus far,” Herger answered.

The speed of the answer caught him off guard and restored a measure of faith in his leaders. The disturbing bit was the last part. He did not relish dwelling on the men who were not going to be going home again.

“How many men have we lost?” he asked slowly.

Colonel Mentyl, the army surgeon, answered in a low voice. “Two hundred thirty-one dead and six hundred seventy wounded. Of those injured, nearly one hundred fifty should not go back to their units anytime soon. Forty more will probably be dead in the next day or so.”

Damn, Rolnir grimaced. Almost a thousand men. Rogscroft was not even within sight and he had lost a tenth of his total strength. This campaign was much more difficult than any of them planned for. If they continued suffering similar losses he would be forced to retreat, even with regular troops to aid.

“Fix the wounded, doctor. Get those men back to their units. We need them,” Rolnir said.

Mentyl sighed. “I will clear the ones that are healthy enough, but I won’t let them go as is. They will only compound the problem.”

Of course he was right. A man too wounded to fight could only cause more harm than good. The wounded weren’t the real problem, however. Rolnir had to find a way to clear the mountain passes and soon. The alternatives disturbed him. He took a deep, steadying breath and made his decision.

“Piper, send a battalion to fire the mountains. I can’t have the Pell Darga harassing us without any kind of retribution.”

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