The Way of Caine (The Warcaster Chronicles) by Holmes Miles

Author:Holmes, Miles [Holmes, Miles]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Adventure, RPG
ISBN: 9781939480958
Publisher: Skull Island Expeditions
Published: 2013-04-29T22:00:00+00:00

As the sun slid from a cloudless sky, a cool breeze blew in from the lake. Caine left his jacket open to the chill, as sweat trickled down his forehead. Reevan and his team were moving like shadows ahead, fast as wind through the rough terrain. Ace loped behind him with a gait something like a primate, sometimes hacking brush away with his broad axe. The warjack’s smokestack puffed sooty black smoke from time to time, the only sign the beast was working at all to keep up. Caine marveled to see something so big move so uncannily quiet.

Up ahead, Reevan signaled a halt with a hand gesture and turned to watch Caine’s progress. He had done so several times, and while he neither complained nor chided, he did meet Caine each time with a leering smirk that said enough. It was time to even things up. Tapping his innate power, space bent around him in mid-stride, and he appeared this time ahead of the waiting sergeant. Finishing his stride, he glanced back at Reevan. The ranger sergeant, however, returned his smirk with a frown, and waved him back.

“We’re here, sir,” Reevan said in a whisper, as Caine scrambled back. He indicated a break in the trees to their right. Caine turned to his new warjack, and willed him to stay back. Ace obliged, slinking into a copse of trees. Once within, he disappeared entirely.

“You and your men, stay put. I want to talk to their leader alone. If they get spooked, I shouldn’t have any trouble getting clear, but don’t hesitate to give me some cover fire. That goes for you, too, he thought to Ace. The metal beast acknowledged by quietly chambering a round in the breech of the Longarm.

Caine peered over Reevan’s shoulder, seeing the mercenary camp for the first time. The mercenaries were well disciplined, and intent on remaining hidden. Absent were the campfires, and loud talk amongst men common to an encamped army. These men moved about in silence, using shuttered lanterns. They betrayed only the occasional glimpse of light as tent flaps were momentarily opened with the coming and going of their occupants.

Into this hideaway Caine strode, guns holstered. With a breath, he stopped, and closed his eyes. He listened. He could hear the footsteps of the soldiers as they moved to and fro, or talked within their tents. Opening his eyes again, he looked at the pale moonlight upon a row of tents. Stepping carefully to avoid any twigs, he followed the row. There, at the end of the row, another larger tent. Surely, the commander’s quarters.

Drawing close, he heard a heated conversation within. A man and a woman argued. He paused, listening.

“... again today he does not come. We must consider …” the woman’s voice sounded tired.

“What? Would you have us leave, Lily?” the man answered, his voice thick with a Caspian twang.

“We are now a week without pay, father. The men are more restless by the hour. If he does not

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