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Authors: Christian Warren Freed

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BOOK: Even Gods Must Fall
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Anienam flustered. “We don’t have a choice in the matter. They created us, not the other way around, Gaimosian. You would do well to remember that in the coming hours.”

Grumbling under his breath, Boen leaned back in the tiny field chair and let the conversation go on.

“Now, where was I? Ah, yes. The gods gave us all life, but they are not without the power to take it away. The gods of light understood that by allowing their dark brethren to continue to exist they were exposing Malweir to unyielding evil. They manipulated time and space to bring us various gifts. The Blud Hamr, for instance. These tools were designed with specific purpose. To use them would counter a specific dark power item.”

“This grows tedious,” Thord growled.

Even the slender Elf Lord agreed.

“It wouldn’t if you would stopped interrupting me. In short, we are given free will to govern our lives but every so often there is divine influence that propels certain ones of us to act on behalf of the gods of light, or the dark.”

“Anienam speaks wisely,” Faeldrin said, coming to his rescue. “My people have witnessed many great and terrible events. Certain individuals spring forth in the hour of most duress and accept the mantle of leadership. I have seen it several times. The last was in the Deadlands when Anienam’s father attempted to stop the Silver Mage. Now it appears that you are the chosen ones, though this task is greater than any in the history of the world, save perhaps the Mage Wars. The short answer to your question Orlek is yes. This is your war.”

Rebuked, Orlek glanced angrily at Ingrid. His eyes pleaded with her to take the rebels and flee back to Chadra. They’d have more of a chance in the Keep or the city proper where they had defenses to hide behind. Charging into the massed ranks of Goblins was sheer suicide. Much to his dismay, Ingrid remained passive. He could tell by the way her brows furrowed that she was lost deep in thought. So much had changed since those first few days when Argis helped inspire the people to rise up against the tyrannical Harnin One Eye. The war continued to devolve into madness. Orlek reluctantly came to the conclusion that the only reason he remained with the rebellion was for his love of Ingrid. He’d lay down his life for her and it increasingly looked as if that was what was going to happen.

“Bringing us back to the initial point. What is our best course of action to break through enemy lines and get my people into the ruins?” Bahr asked.

Thord stroked his thick beard. “Cannons. Nothing else we have is strong enough to convince the Goblins to break away.”

“We have made contact with the combined army coming in from the northeast. King Aurec is most willing to form an alliance,” Faeldrin supplied.

Bahr and Boen exchanged a curious look. Neither could believe the same upstart prince responsible for all of their woes was now a major player in the battle for Malweir. If Aurec hadn’t kidnapped Maleela in the late summer, none of this might be happening, or at least not on the level it was now. Now Maleela was gone, lost, or perhaps dead.

“His army is large enough to give the Goblins concern and they have the advantage of cavalry,” the Elf continued. “If we could coordinate simultaneous attacks, you and your group should be able to sneak into the ruins without much issue.”

“There are too many ‘shoulds’ and ‘coulds’ in that statement, Faeldrin. I need something more concrete before risking our lives for nothing. Not to mention that if Groge falls, so to do our chances of success. He is the only one capable of wielding the Hamr.”

“I didn’t say it would be easy,” Faeldrin smiled.

Bahr nodded understanding. “Anienam, just how long do we have left before the Dae’shan attempt to open the portal?”

Anienam made a public show of going through a series of calculations before saying, “The midnight hour. Just over a day from now the Dae’shan will attempt to bring their masters into our world.”

“Faeldrin, is that enough time to get some of us over to Aurec and formulate a strong plan?” Bahr asked.

“I can have you there in a little over an hour provided our enemy hasn’t expanded their lines. What do you have in mind?”

Bahr scratched a small cut on his cheek. “We need a diversion. The Wolfsreik and their allies are big enough to provide that for us. Once we get the Goblins to commit to shifting their main focus on the east, Thord can use his cannons and muskets to shred what remains of their lines on our front. Caught between two armies, the Goblins will have no idea which threat is the actual push. I take my group in under cover from the Dwarves….”

“And Minotaurs!” Krek snorted.

Bahr paused, trying not to grin. “Yes, and the Minotaurs, and cut through the ruins to find the Dae’shan. Wizard, will you be able to guide us to where we need to go?”

The question, while valid, irritated Anienam. “Of course I can, fool. Eyes are a weakness. My senses have grown tenfold since we arrived. Get me into the ruins and I’ll guide you the rest of the way.”

“Fair enough,” Bahr said.

“What about us?” Ingrid asked. “Where do you want us?”

“Ingrid…no,” Orlek pleaded.

The sadness in her eyes was felt by all except Krek. “I’m sorry, Orlek, but this is our fight. These Goblins are in the middle of Delranan. Whether we fight or flee doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t believe it ever did. We’ve been given the opportunity to free our people once and for all. Bahr, where do you need my rebels?”

“It would be an honor to have them fight alongside the Dwarves of Drimmen Delf,” Thord told her.

Satisfied, and startled, with the answer, Ingrid graciously accepted. “It would be an honor, King Thord.”

“Nonsense, Woman. We Dwarves recognize strength when we see it. The honor is ours,” he replied.

“It’s settled. How soon would you like to leave, Sea Wolf?” Faeldrin asked.

Bahr answered, “Immediately. The sooner we get a solid plan in place the better. I don’t like the idea of giving our Goblin friends additional time to prepare. If we know the hour is at hand they surely must as well. The Dae’shan are crafty beyond measure and will have numerous surprises in store for us.”

Nothol finished the last of his ale as the command meeting dissolved. Bahr and the Elf walked away, followed closely by Ingrid, Thord, and Krek. They were a powerful group, capable of altering the course of the future. Nothol felt fortunate to have been born in such a time. Legends were born from moments like this.

Of course no one in his old drinking haunts would ever believe him. Nothol Coll was too much of an ordinary person to be involved in such matters. The world went on with or without him. He scoffed at their assumed ignorance. Nothol made a living off of being underestimated. He only hoped to take advantage of that fact in the coming fight. He thought about heading back to Dorl but his friend had already retired to his tent with Rekka in what promised to be their final night. Nothol reluctantly admitted he was jealous of Dorl but didn’t relish the prospect of being separated before being able to marry. The sell sword decided to go and find a refill. He didn’t plan on getting drunk but the need to dull his senses suddenly seemed like a very good idea.

TWENTY-FIVE

The Plan

The ride was mercifully quick. Bahr was tired of being in the saddle. Tired of roaming across the world and tired of not being able to lay his head on a pillow at night in his own home. Life didn’t care for his wants or needs, however, so he kept going. The Sea Wolf took a small measure of comfort in knowing that all of their troubles would soon be over. One way or the other his task ended tomorrow.

They arrived in the Wolfsreik camp without much fanfare. Pickets allowed them access after brief questioning. Aurec and Rolnir were awaiting them. Bahr marveled at the rigid structure of the camp. Tents were erected in orderly rows. Their dull, grey peaks extended further than he could see. The majority of soldiers were asleep, bedded down for what promised to be their final night of rest. Bahr got the sense that they were beyond weary, just as ready to see this through as he was.

Cook fires carried the aroma of roasting meat across the camp. Bahr began to salivate. He hadn’t had fresh meat in a long time. Men stood in line for a late meal or huddled around the fire pits spread throughout the camp, exchanging stories or thoughts of what they might do once the war finally ended. It was a bond unlike any other in the world. Soldiers were a much tighter knit group than civilians gave them credit for. They laughed, cried, and bled together. Bahr reluctantly felt the attraction of being part of something so large. His own tiny group had fused together in ways his crew on the
Dragon’s Bane
never had. His gaze swept over the rows of countless tents and his mind began to wander.

Having abandoned his claims on Delranan long ago, Bahr seldom spent time around the Wolfsreik. Their size and pride was beyond measure. His brother had been a fool to squander such a resource. Few bothered looking at him as his tiny group passed into the center of camp. Most were interested in Krek for they’d never seen a Minotaur. Elves and Dwarves were rare, but many had at least glimpsed one in the course of their service.

How many knew he was the king’s brother? Probably less than he imagined. Knowing that didn’t prevent Bahr from feeling eyes glaring at him. Their hatred of Badron must surely translate to him. His family had ground Delranan into the ground, breaking the kingdom to the point where it was almost beyond recovery. There was no atonement for such a crime.

The command group lacked the size he had imagined given the comparisons with the rest of the army. Rolnir and Aurec decided on smaller tents that were practically indiscernible from the others. If not for the double ring of armed and armored guards Bahr might easily have passed right by. He knew a little about the Wolfsreik general and virtually nothing of the boy king. This initial impression sparked a good feeling in him.

Rolnir was burly with red hair streaked through with silver. His hands were large and calloused from a lifetime of wielding a sword. His eyes were sharp yet tired. Red lines cracked the white. His wolfskin cloak draped over his shoulders gave him a wild and dangerous look. Lines began to accumulate around his face and hands. There was no give in his stance. He knew he was the master of this battlefield. Only in his thirties, Rolnir had been through more than a man twice his age.

Aurec, in comparison, represented youth. The boy was slender, almost untamed. An unconscionable weight was cast upon his thin shoulders. Bahr could only guess how traumatic it had been to have a crown placed upon his head at such a young age. He too had taken that test around the same age, only Bahr turned and fled. Though youthful, Aurec exuded weariness. He’d lost the most out of any of them and bore it in his eyes.

“Lord Bahr, welcome,” Rolnir started off, offering his hand.

Bahr accepted the offer. “Please, just Bahr. I’m not lord.”

Rolnir’s lips twisted slightly before falling back into place. His secret hope that Bahr had returned to lay claim to the throne and lead Delranan evaporated. “Even so, you are brother to the late king. Allow me to introduce King Aurec of Rogscroft, Cuul Ol of the Pell Darga, and General Vajna.”

Casting a glance to see if Faeldrin was going to step forward and take charge, Bahr said, “This is Lord Faeldrin of the Aeldruin, King Thord of Drimmen Delf, Ingrid of the rebellion, Anienam Keiss the wizard, and King Krek.”

“Well met,” Rolnir replied. “This is quite the collection of warriors. I’m told your army has…unique weapons.”

“Very unique,” Bahr said and went on to explain the gunpowder weapons to the combined army’s leadership. When he finished, their looks were a strange combination of respect and abject horror.

Rolnir cleared his throat. “We should have no trouble breaking the Goblin lines with weapons like that, but they have a very large force. Close to fifty thousand or so we’ve guessed.”

“A few less,” Thord grumbled. “We’ve bloodied their noses back in my kingdom. They got a taste of what Dwarven might truly is.”

“Have you any idea how they arrived in Delranan so fast?” Aurec asked.

Anienam answered, “Magic.”

“Excuse me? There is no magic in this part of the world,” Vajna said. His eyes narrowed in mistrust.

“Magic. There is great evil at work here. Surely you must have felt it lurking behind all Badron did? It is no coincidence that our armies have gathered near Arlevon Gale.”

“These are just ruins, old one. Arlevon Gale may once have been important but their time has long fallen into decay,” Rolnir said. “What could possibly be so special as to compel so many combatants here and now?”

“This is the final crossing point for the dark gods,” Anienam said. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial level. “Tomorrow night the agents of evil will attempt to open the path between dimensions and release the dark gods into the world. This, my friends, is the final battle in a war that has stretched since the dawn of the world.”

“How fortunate,” Rolnir said. “Are there other surprises in store for us? I’m not willing to commit to the attack without knowing more. As it stands now we’re going to lose too many soldiers just trying to break their lines, even with the Dwarf
cannons
.”

The word felt awkward, almost unnatural. Rolnir wanted to see the machines in action but dreaded the effects based on Bahr’s testimony. Until now war had been personal with sword or axe, made only slightly less so by the use of catapults and scorpions. He could almost envision there being no need for large-scale armies composed of infantry if the cannons were as effective as Bahr suggested.

“I assume plenty more we’re not aware of. The least of which are the Dae’shan. Fortunately for us they are only three instead of four. Without a fourth their power is diminished, slightly. I can only assume that they’ve collected the remnants of creations of the dark to protect them during the ritual.”

“You bear ill tidings, wizard,” Aurec said. His voice was strained, for he secretly dealt with conflicting emotions. Rumor had come to him that Maleela was taken by Bahr and the wizard. Yet they came to his camp with open arms and in friendship. Their actions set his kingdom on a course for war, or so he believed. To have them standing before him now left him feeling raw, anguished.

“Magic seldom distinguishes between ill and joy. What matters is we have a chance, the slightest chance, of getting to the Dae’shan and destroying the Olagath Stone, thus sealing the dark gods away forever.” Anienam paused to let his words sink in. “This will not be an easy task. The Dae’shan will be most determined to prevent our interference. They will stop at nothing to see us stopped.”

“Are these the same demons who corrupted Badron?” Rolnir asked, folding his arms.

“They’ve often sought out soft targets with pliable minds.”

“Makes sense. Badron was consumed with getting revenge on Rogscroft, though we’ve come to learn he merely needed an excuse to start a war,” Rolnir said with respect to both Aurec and Bahr. He suddenly felt uncomfortable being caught between them. Any unspoken tension only added to the group dynamic. He wondered how well this newly forged alliance was going to hold together in the coming battle.

“The war was a cleverly crafted diversion from the truth. The Dae’shan have known for millennia this moment was coming and they knew where. We still have much going for us. We know what they intend to do and when. We also know that each time before has resulted in failure for them. This, my friends, is their final attempt.”

“Making them all the more dangerous,” Ingrid said.

“Indeed, but we have all endured much danger over the course of the winter,” Aurec told her. “Rolnir is right, wizard, we stand to lose many lives.”

Anienam shrugged. “Some losses are unavoidable. That is the nature of war, young king. Our Dwarven allies will lessen the odds, as will your siege engines.”

“We’ve all fought Goblins before. The cannons and catapults will test their will, but they won’t break and run,” Thord added. “Not unless we manage to slaughter the majority of their strength. No, Anienam, this is going to be bloody for us all.”

“How then do we proceed with the assault? If what you say is true, time is against us,” Rolnir said, deciding to change the subject further. “How long will you need to complete your task?”

“Ha! The task itself is a simple smashing with the Blud Hamr,” Anienam cackled. “Getting to the Olagath Stone is the trick. Some hours I suspect.”

“Since Bahr and his people are already camped with us I suggest we begin the attack,” Faeldrin said. “Once you hear the signal that the attack is underway you can commit your combined army in the support assault.”

“What sign? How will we know?” Aurec asked.

Thord grinned, a savage look. “You’ll know.”

 

 

 

Aurec paced like a caged mountain lion. He wished he’d never sent Venten home. This was one of those moments where he needed his old friend’s counsel. A moment he long dreaded was drawing ever closer. The battle on the morrow wasn’t even a consideration. His sole concern lay on the brother of the king responsible for murdering his father. For destroying his kingdom and potentially ruining his way of life. Not only that, but Aurec desperately needed word of Maleela. If she was still with Bahr why hadn’t he brought her?

Thorsson folded back the tent flap and coughed. “Sire, he’s here.”

His heart sped up. Sweat tickled his brow. Aurec’s mouth went dry. His hands trembled. It took a concentrated effort to make his lips work. “Thank you, Thorsson. Please send him in.”

The command sergeant major paused, as if determining whether his king was in the proper frame of mind for such a guest. Ultimately, it wasn’t up to him. His job was to follow orders and offer suggestions. He knew, as did the others close to Aurec, that this meeting needed to happen in order for the king to go into battle with any doubts removed.

“You asked to speak with me?” Bahr said as he entered.

Aurec turned to face him. They stood for a moment, each staring back at the other. The king of Rogscroft struggled with the desire to strike the older Bahr. Until now he hadn’t hoped to ever confront the one responsible for stealing his love. Aurec gradually got control of his emotions.

“Yes, Captain, thank you for coming,” he said.

Bahr saw the turmoil etched on young Aurec’s face. “I’m not my brother.”

“Excuse me?” Aurec was taken off guard.

Bahr offered a thin smile. “You’ve been thinking it since we arrived. Badron and I are nothing alike. Nor am I the monster you think I am. Maleela is my niece. I was hired to return her from your…kidnapping effort. We didn’t learn until much later that it was not all it was made out to be.”

His words, while intended to assuage the anguish Aurec felt, had little impact. He saw Badron when he looked at Bahr. He saw the loss of the love of his life.

“Where is she?” he asked, the words coming out as a demand.

Bahr deflated. “She…she’s gone.”

Aurec felt his heart shatter. Months of repression finally broke free. The tears flowed. Reason and hope abandoned him. He’d kept the hope alive since the moment he’d awakened to find her missing. Death wasn’t possible. She was merely secluded away in Delranan. Bahr’s words shredded that illusion. With Maleela dead, Aurec feared he lacked the resolve to finish the war. He suddenly felt lost.

Racked with sobs, Aurec choked back his tears. “How did she die?”

Pain reflected off Bahr’s dark eyes. His mind drifted back to finding Ionascu’s murdered corpse. “I can’t say for certain she did.”

Aurec stiffened. “What do you mean? You’re not making sense.”

“We were attacked by a pair of Gnaals in the jungle. Nothol Coll took her to safety but was knocked out from behind. One of our own, who turned out to be a spy for Harnin, clubbed him and, we think, attempted to murder Maleela. Instead we found his body and no trace of her.”

Frightful images played through Aurec’s mind. He imagined her lying dead from starvation in the middle of a hostile land, dying slowly with no friends or comfort. The thought of being abandoned by those who claimed to love and protect her must have driven her into madness during those final few moments. Aurec’s knees gave out and he collapsed onto his field chair, lowering his head into his hands.

Bahr shifted uncomfortably. He’d dreaded this confrontation from the moment Faeldrin led him into the Wolfsreik camp. The situation was beyond awkward. Heir to the throne, he was more of an outcast than anyone else in their steadily growing circle. Worse, the longer he stayed around them the more his perceived failures returned to haunt him.

BOOK: Even Gods Must Fall
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