Last Stand of the Blood Land by Andrew Carpenter

Author:Andrew Carpenter [Carpenter, Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781096885795
Publisher: Carps Tale, LLC
Published: 2019-07-31T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

W otan could feel the earth moving beneath his hooves. He sniffed the air, his enormous lungs filling with the scent not of buffalo, but of marching Men. The Centaur chief had climbed a butte in the Canyon Lands so he could see the sight for himself. It was the same butte his father had climbed, and his father before him, and he knew it well. The view it provided, of the southward approach to the Canyon Lands that stretched away from Fort Hope onto the plains, was as much a part of him as the black feathers in his hair or the massive antlers that protruded from his brow. The glinting, mechanized structure of the approaching army, with its siege weapons and rhinos and endless rows of armored soldiers was out of place. He felt the cold air and looked at the empty mountains and the dense forest, then the sweeping tan grass stretching east, and concluded that the time had come to do what he had been born to do. I will destroy this unnatural thing that comes into my homeland.

The fur on his black back stood up and he tensed, unable to overcome the instinctual fear of an attack on his exposed rear. He knew it was Rondo, the winged Skraeling that was working to help him position his forces. The Cherub Rider had landed his griffin silently on the northern side of the lookout to avoid being seen and had picked his way quietly through the grass and over the stone strewn summit until he was close enough to alert Wotan that the time had come.

Wotan knew the Southlanders had seen him but not the Rider- it was a tactic he had used in this area before. He followed Rondo down towards where his bucks stood concealed in the depths of a box canyon underneath the bluff, remembering the last two battles he had fought in this same oft contested gateway to the North. They made their way down a tiny goat trail that cut along the backside of the bluff before Rondo dismounted to tell him of the positions of the key players in the coming battle.

“It’s just as Hadrian said it would be,” said the Cherub in reference to the Southland captive that now counseled Oberon. “A small number of scouts entered the Canyonlands, searching for a campground where they can launch the siege of Fort Hope.”

“My scouts?” said Wotan, still feeling slightly awkward speaking the language of the other races.

“I guided them into the perfect ambush- we killed two bands of Southland scouts, none escaped.”

“They will find bodies?” he asked, hopeful that their plan to draw a larger force deeper into the canyons would work.

“They already have.”

Rondo nodded, and Wotan noted the cool calmness on his features. More like Donus, this one. His people had always respected the warrior that Donus had been. He was pure. The Centaur reached into a pouch that hung from his armor on his forward shoulder and pulled out a purple belt of wampum.

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