Rise of the Storm by Carrie Summers

Author:Carrie Summers [Summers, Carrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-11T06:00:00+00:00

***

The Stormshard column marched somberly through the outskirts of the little mountain village, keeping a slow pace out of respect for the mounds of fresh earth in the cemetery. Hardly anyone spoke. I got the sense that no Sharder wanted to know how the five villagers had been slain, especially the body that lay in a trench far too short to hold an adult’s remains. No doubt it would be up to Sirez to get the story. I didn’t envy her.

Given the number of outlying dwellings, I’d expected a larger settlement. My mind had even wandered into fantasies of sleeping in a proper inn, an honest mattress beneath me and a goose down cover over the top. But the cluster of buildings gathered around the central square and well house was no bigger than Numintown. Smaller than my hometown, even. Except for the largest structure, a wooden frame built atop a low stone foundation, there were only stacked-stone buildings thatched with stalks of wheat. Low fences bounded gardens filled with scraggly plants.

When our army had gathered into a milling horde surrounding the well house, the village seemed even quieter. Eerie, even. We hadn’t passed close enough to the shepherds’ huts to know whether anyone had been inside, but I’d assumed the herders were out tending their grazing flocks. Perhaps not. Already unsettled by the graves and the strange rasping I’d felt, I fought the urge to shiver. The other Sharders shifted, glancing about. When a door to the town hall opened, a few people gasped.

A man with a receding hairline and careworn face stepped onto the threshold. His eyes darted nervously over our gathered crowd. Only after searching the entirety of the square did the tension leave his shoulders. “Why are you here?” he said without preamble.

“Clear skies greet you, friend,” Sirez said as she wove through the Sharders toward the man. “We’re passing through. Thought we might stop for news, and perhaps speak to any able-bodied men and women who might have interest in hearing some… proposals.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of proposals?”

In a window behind him, motion flickered before a curtain dropped over the glass. Focusing my aura-sight, I peered through the wall. There were at least twenty people in the hall, probably having holed up inside when a lookout spotted our approach. Their auras showed a mixture of sadness and fear. I glanced quickly at Sirez, wondering if she knew any of this.

“You’re fairly isolated out here,” Sirez commented. “No… official presence?”

“If you’re asking whether we’ve got protectors listening in, the answer is no. They left already.”

A rustling rose from the gathered Sharders at the man’s words. Sirez shifted her weight onto her other hip. “Already?”

Again the man’s eyes roved over the crowd. “You’re Stormshard, aren’t you?”

Sirez shrugged a shoulder. “Depends on who’s asking.” Despite her casual stance, she slid a hand toward her belt and the long dagger sheathed there.

Falla nudged me. “Be ready,” she muttered under her breath.

The man held Sirez’s gaze as if judging her.

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