Proof of Death (Grendel Uprising Book 1) by Scott Moon

Author:Scott Moon [Moon, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Scott Moon
Published: 2015-06-24T06:00:00+00:00

7

NIGHT

SKY CLAN VILLAGE

GRENDEL 0473829: SURFACE, HIGHLAND PASS 83A2T

MISSION CLOCK: 1:48:00:00

The conversation about the Eye of the Needle seemed years ago, although less time had passed learning to fight without computer-assisted targeting reticules and projectile weapons with a three-kilometer range than healing from his crash. Gunnarr had promised a tactical choke point. Aefel needed a Holy Grail of siege defense to outdo the Hot Gates of Thermopylae, the Texas Alamo, or the Regenison Jump Gate Engagement.

All those heroes died. He smiled, controlling his laughter before Fey thought he was laughing at her. I’m no hero, so I should be good to go.

He wanted to ask Fey if there was such a place, if there was any hope of holding back the Hawk and Arrow clans. Their last discussion of the topic ended with a heated debate on why the women of Sky Clan would never submit to any clan, not even the Hawk or Arrow, which were full of hard working, generous people for the most part.

It made no sense to Aefel, since Fey was talking about fighting to the death. As he understood the war, there had been a blood feud and that feud was over now that Jarl Haverson was dead. If Haverson had survived and won, all three clans would be trading peacefully and allied against raiders from the distant lowlands.

On another planet, in another official capacity, Aefel might have walked away from the Sky Clan as a lost cause. Might have. Probably not; he’d fight for Fey if for no other reason. Even when he was mad at her, he wasn’t mad at her. Even when he clenched his fists and clamped his teeth with all his might to keep from declaring her an irrational crazy woman, he loved her in a way he didn’t know was possible.

And there was Sveinn and his siblings. Did the Commonwealth need the genetic archives stored in the Royal Line? Should one family — practically a parallel species — contain the keys to every human potentiality, to all races and ancient ethnicities back to the days of genocidal religions and miraculous discoveries?

“War will never come during the winter,” Fey said as she snuggled into the heat of Aefel’s cloak. “Storm clouds and snowdrifts protect us.”

He tipped the skin of mead and opened his throat. He thought of Paul, the First Armored-infantry Lightning Division heavy weapons specialist, and the man’s perverse fascination with wine.

“I like it when you smile,” she said.

A snowflake landed on her nose and he brushed it away with the barest tip of his finger. Her sea-foam eyes, more gray in the freshly arrived winter than when they had first met, dazzled him.

“You don’t think of your family often, but this time, it looked like a happy thought. A brother you miss now that he isn’t about to annoy you?” she asked.

Aefel laughed. The sound had weight and became sad as it trailed away into the cold day all around them for miles and miles of hills, forests, and vistas too big for a man accustomed to living on a spaceship or inside body armor to ever welcome.

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