The Fangs of War: The Blood and Steel Saga: Book I by E J Doble

Author:E J Doble [Doble, E J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent Publisher
Published: 2022-01-10T16:00:00+00:00

Projecting from the cliff-side in grand pillars of pale rock, Savanta found herself at the base of an elegant structure of stone blocks and ornate carved entranceways. Lost in time, the half-dozen steps at her feet were worn and cracked by disuse. The doorways had been unhinged and stolen away, revealing a hollow chamber within illuminated only by the fractious lights that the broken pediment overhead allowed through. At its coronation, Savanta imagined it had been a grand spectacle to behold – to cross the Kazbak Hills and gaze up at the great structure embedded in the mountain, overlooking the world beyond like an omnipresent god. How beautiful it must’ve been – how ruinous it was now. A shadow of its former glory, etched into the cliff-side, now little more than a memory. The last vestige of a once glorious past.

Left to rot like the rest of it.

“It’s quite the structure,” Markus remarked, sitting on the highest step sipping water from a flask. “Any idea what it was in its glory days?”

“Could’ve been anything,” Savanta admitted. “The architecture is very simplistic… smooth lines, fine engravings on the walls… whatever it is, it wasn’t built by Tarrazi hands, that’s for sure.”

“So it was built by Provenci workers?”

“Quite possibly… judging by its age, I’d say it was at least forty years old.”

“That would’ve been around the time of The Collapse.” As he said it, a low howl caught the wind and brushed gently by, like the recast shadow of ancient times drawn up once more into the world. “Back when Provenci governors moved in at the end of annexation, starting their programs and building projects… reckon this could be one of them?”

“Perhaps.” She ran her hand against the nearest column. “Although I’m not sure what purpose this one served.”

Markus got to his feet and screwed the bottle shut. “Well… whatever it is, a look inside can’t hurt.”

She waved a hand. “Lead the way.”

They passed through the entrance into a wide square room, with a low ceiling riddled with swellings of moss. Sconces lined the walls, the wood within them long burnt to ash. Bushels of gorse burst from cracks in the tiled floor, stretching at awkward contortions to reach the few coils of light that entered from above. The trickle of a small mountain spring was apparent at the back, feeding through a crack in the roof and spilling across the floor below. There was a musty, forgotten smell hanging thickly in the air like dust, a sign that nature was slowly reclaiming the ancient structure for its own.

“Look there.” Markus pointed to a few torn rags sprawled across the floor to their left, and a haphazard pile of sticks beneath one of the torches on the wall. “Seems like someone’s been here fairly recently… and left rather quickly.”

“Probably just local travellers,” she replied coolly. “They use these routes to access better hunting grounds to the south.”

“And you’re sure on that?”

She cocked him an eye. “If you think we’re gonna get attacked by a legion of blackcoats, Markus, I assure you we aren’t.

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