Death's Chosen (Annals of the Forsaken Book 3) by Anthony James

Author:Anthony James [James, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-07-12T05:00:00+00:00

16

The next day was noticeably warmer than the one which preceded it. I would like to say that the increased temperature filled me with optimism, but it did not. There was a time when I’d have welcomed the early signs of spring – now I’d seen it all too often for it to carry much significance. If I was pressed, I would have said I had a preference for both summer and winter. Many would likely think this unusual, though for me it seemed as natural as any other choice. In winter, there was a stark beauty to the world that spoke of a clean death with the hope of new life. Summer was the expression of that new life born.

Even though we’d not suffered too many significant delays, I’d started to be gripped by the notion that we had fallen far behind where we should have been. It might have been the length of the journey playing tricks on my mind, or it could have been the events I’d witnessed giving me an impetus to charge onwards into the distance. We marched quickly, yet I wished I could somehow throw a rope over the horizon and drag it towards me with the power of my will. The frustration wouldn’t go away and I was worried that I’d have to live with it – not only until we reached Angax, but until we’d returned to the Saviour afterwards.

Days passed. The land changed from lush, green hills until it became rockier and less verdant. I knew that the northern lands suffered more in the winter than those of the south, yet the snows were already gone. This cheered me, because it suggested that the Northmen hadn’t reached this far. Whether the Emperor had repelled them or they’d chosen to remain further north for their own reasons wasn’t clear. I supposed it didn’t matter one way or the other.

The men were in good spirits – they had been transformed since we’d pledged our allegiance to the Saviour. I liked to think the idea that we’d one day go south had found favour as well. People like to know what’s coming and most soldiers prefer it if the decision is made for them. If they were the sort who wanted to make decisions of their own, they’d either become officers or they’d never have become a soldier in the first place.

The wounds they’d suffered in the woods were gone – healed up with an unnatural speed and vigour that would be the envy of any other man. I learned that when the Flesh Shaper had attacked the tower, they’d had to carry Flurry and Eagle with them, those being the most grievously injured of all. I caught sight of Flurry a few times – like all of us, he carried dozens of scars. Now, he carried dozens more and when I asked to look at the fresh ones, I could only marvel that he’d managed to survive. Our bodies could take a lot of damage before we were forced to travel the final journey.

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