Champions of Chaos (Warhammer Chronicles Book 5) by Darius Hinks & Sarah Cawkwell & Ben Counter

Author:Darius Hinks & Sarah Cawkwell & Ben Counter [Hinks, Darius]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Games Workshop
Published: 2018-04-06T16:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

The Long Game

The river of time flowed ever onwards, heedless of the betrayal of a warrior queen in the northernmost reaches of the world. Time flowed onwards into weeks, months and finally years.

Edan had been unhappy with simply betraying his sister on the field of battle and within weeks of the party’s return to the Vale, had also turned the tide of favouritism against Hepsus. It had not taken much more than a carefully placed whisper and gentle re-working of the truth to ensure that everyone believed that the Warspeaker had been responsible for Valkia’s death.

Whispers grew to murmurs, which in turn became angry rumours. Hepsus, revelling in the fact that the tribe was finally under his command, was oblivious to any of it. He had already instigated a number of startling changes that did not sit well with many of Valkia’s more staunch supporters and there were obvious fractures starting to appear across the scattered tribes that had united beneath the queen’s banner.

‘War does not have to last forever,’ had been the Warspeaker’s message. ‘We are plentiful in number. Let us spend time carving out a solid, permanent existence. Let us stop the ceaseless wandering. The Schwarzvolf are acknowledged as the greatest tribe of the north. Let us revel in that for a time.’

Days after giving this speech, he dropped the title of Warspeaker, firmly stating that it did nothing to support the message of unity he wanted to promote amongst the people. It had been this act which had led to a further splintering of the tribe.

The Circle had gathered for the first time since the appropriate observance of Valkia’s death. The tribe had been in mourning – some genuine, some not – and despite their inherent ferocity, to appear as anything other than united in their grief would expose them as vulnerable.

These had been Hepsus’s words and Eris had not reacted well to them.

She stood up and faced him, her elfin-like features contorted with suppressed rage. Bellona stared up at her twin helplessly. The moment Hepsus had spoken, the final line was crossed as far as Eris had been concerned.

‘You are promoting nothing but cowardice, Hepsus. You sit there, full of your own self-importance and boast about how you will lead our people forward. But this is an act of foolishness. We are a tribe of warriors. We honour the Blood God…’

‘The Blood God? Where was the Blood God when we were fighting for our lives in the far north?’ Hepsus responded in kind, his own face furious. ‘It was because of a misplaced belief in a mad god that your mother died. Do not forget that.’ The former Warspeaker rose from his own place and stood before her. He had the advantage of height, strength and age but Eris did not move. She faced him with as much courage as her own mother had always shown.

‘Eris…’ Bellona spoke softly. She was not blinded by rage and she could see no end to this discussion but a poor one.

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