The Heirs of History: A Nation From Nothing by T. Josiah Haynes

Author:T. Josiah Haynes [Haynes, T. Josiah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2021-07-20T22:00:00+00:00

The heavens darkened. The purple clouds dissipated. The moonlit sea stretched its tendrils towards the soldiers, but it could not reach. Torchlight danced in the distance, in the hovels and the temple. Sarahill’s tavern must be pulsing to the rhythm of drinking songs. How Laebm yearned to be at a counter, stein in hand, singing along.

But he was a general. He was the grand commander of these protestant forces. In the absence of a king, the congress agreed to allow Laebm rule over his soldiers. The congress, however, reserved the right to confiscate authority, should the need arise. Sometimes, Laebm wished the congress would supplant him, so he could take his rightful place at the tavern and blend in with the faceless.

His pupils dilated. On the western horizon, red flickered. Just a glimmer of red. Then orange and red. Laebm sat up. “Primhill, Laebmhill, to the west.”

They both sat upright and squinted. Laebmhill murmured, “Is the forest on fire?”

“There is no forest along the west coast,” his father reminded him. “And the sky would shine brighter.”

Primhill tilted his head. “Is it torchlight? It would be very far off.”

“Not far enough.” Laebm rose and grabbed his axe. “Laebmhill, run. Alert Kraekhill and the others.”

Laebmhill slurred, “Shall I arouse anyone on the way there?”

“No need to start a panic.” But Laebm did not convince himself.

Young Laebmhill stumbled away. Drunk as an empty glass, he thought, but in no shape to fight whatever lies on the horizon. Primhill nocked an arrow, and Laebm followed suit.

A minute passed as the far off shapes became clearer. Two legs, two arms. It was people. Thousands, by Laebm’s estimate. Then they stopped their muffled march, some ways off. Primhill quivered in his old boots. “Do you think they saw the torches? Didn’t want to pick a fight?”

“Perhaps,” he lied. “They outnumber us, I’d wager.”

“Maybe they’re not fighters.”

“They’re in no formation I recognize. Not soldiers.”

“One can hope.”

Out of the horde emerged four figures. Perhaps another minute slogged past as the four figures strode nonchalantly towards Laebm and Primhill. Finally close enough to view, their leader appeared Hillite — chestnut skin, shaggy black hair. But the other three wore alien raiments of green and gold. Emerald silks wrapped around the foreigners’ bosoms and draped over their hips. The Hillite was male and mid-twenties, followed by a middle-aged woman and two older men.

The Hillite-looking man held his hands up. “General Laebm, is that you?”

Laebm’s heart pounded in his chest like rolling thunder. “Who are you?”

The man took another step into the torchlight. “Ambassador Ganjinhill, wedson to Congresser Balgray. Tell me, friend, how does she fare?”

Laebm couldn’t believe it. Ganjinhill had journeyed west with Yrnhill the elder. They had found an ally. Or, at least a neighbor, he worried. “Balgray is in good health.” Laebm lowered his bow. “It is Laebm you speak with. And Soldier Primhill with me.” Primhill lowered his bow as well.

Ganjinhill sighed. He stood close enough for Laebm to make out the whites of his eyes now. “These are our friends,” he declared.

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