A Sliver of Redemption by Dalglish David

Author:Dalglish, David [Dalglish, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-01-19T05:00:00+00:00

“Can you not see the need for your demons now?” Velixar asked, gesturing to the bridge. “They are too well entrenched. I cannot overwhelm them with numbers, and our archers are wasting arrows, as you so elegantly put it.”

Myann rejected the idea without a moment’s thought.

“We have lost nothing,” he said. “Your dead are toys for us, nothing more. They are not real fighters. Send in the humans.”

“The casualties will be enormous,” Velixar insisted.

“Not if your magic broke through,” the demon said. “Who is this stranger that keeps besting you? I wonder how weak Karak must be if you are his greatest prophet.”

“Do not blaspheme his name!”

“Then do not give me reason to!”

Velixar turned and glared at the bridge. A brute force method was not going to work. They’d held his undead off for several hours now, and even worse, they’d dumped the bodies off the bridge and into the river below. Within minutes they were out of his reach. What he’d give for a single demon to find Qurrah among the crowd and shove a spear through his heart! Even if the half-orc wished to repent, Velixar knew he would refuse the display. Qurrah had cast his lot in with the damned, and nothing would save him from their fate.

“Prepare the mercenaries,” Velixar said, referring to the men from Angelport. “They seem the more bloodthirsty of the lot. Until then, I want fires burning all along the riverside. When we make our move, I don’t want them to have any notice.”

“As you wish,” Myann said, his voice full of mockery.

The undead pulled away from the bridge. Velixar oversaw the fires, and he set the men from Felwood to cut giant piles of grass to burn atop the little wood they had. Once wet, the smoke would billow in giant columns, exactly how he wanted it. He also thought to try an occasional spell, but instead he saved his strength. When the real assault began, not his humoring of the demon with his undead, he wanted to unleash everything he had. Qurrah had stopped many of his strongest spells, but he hadn’t pushed himself, hadn’t stretched to the very limits of his power. Tonight he would, and the half-orc would break against the strain.

As the fires grew in strength, he joined Tessanna by the water, staring off to the other side.

“Is he looking for me?” she asked. “Do you think he can see me from where he stands?”

“You will see him soon enough,” Velixar said. “Are you so eager to kill?”

She glared at him with such anger that he stepped back, stunned.

“I will not,” she said. “I will not. If you want him dead, then do it yourself. I’m not your puppet. I’m not your plaything. I was Qurrah’s, and I still am. I think I forever will be, too. Sick your little men on me, or threaten my body. I will not break, not to you. Not ever. Do you understand, you wretched abomination?”

He slapped her, but the act was more reflex than conscious.

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