Waltzing with the Dead by Russell Davis

Author:Russell Davis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, horror, vampire, stephen king, science fiction
Publisher: Wildside Press
Published: 2011-07-07T00:00:00+00:00

Father of Shadow, Son of Light

General Seth Rellick led the vast army of the Kham-Ridhe over a hill and reigned in his mount. In the valley below, the Elven city of Parthanor waited like a shimmering jewel nestled in a Skindancer’s navel. The forest of Riantha, which spread over the better part of the Elves kingdom, was not as thick as it could have been — a fact which pleased Seth to no end. It was difficult to fight a mounted campaign in the trees. From here, Seth could see that the gates were closed and the bray of horns sounding the alarm echoed across the remaining distance. Several hours earlier, his scouts had reported that most of the citizenry had either fled or was ensconced in the fortified city.

Not that the fortifications would matter. The outcome of the battle, as far as Seth was concerned, was a foregone conclusion. The advance elements of the Kham-Ridhe, ten thousand foot and five thousand mounted troops, were more than adequate to the task. There were even more soldiers, foreigners and mercenaries who had joined as the campaign wore on, waiting to come in behind his troops.

He raised his right arm, made a fist, and the six primary commanders rode forward. There was no need to discuss the plans, which had been finalized the day before. Seth waited until they were arranged in a semi-circle around him and then pointed at the beautiful city below. Legend had it that the first buildings constructed in Parthanor had been created by ancient gods. “Destroy it,” he said. The commanders nodded in unison, and turned their horses at once, barking orders as they rode.

The gods, Seth knew, had surely forsaken the Elves. Otherwise, this war would have been even more difficult. The first ranks of the army began moving down the hillside. Parthanor was fortified, but the gates wouldn’t hold for long, and most of what remained of the Elven army had withdrawn to the capital city of Kathas to make their final stand.

One of his personal guard, Marikus, rode forward and inclined his head. “General?” he said.

Seth sighed. “Yes?” he said. Marikus was the leader of his personal guard, but he was not one of the Kham-Ridhe. He was a foreigner and had earned his place by besting all five others of his guard in a single combat. The previous leader, whose name Seth remembered but didn’t allow himself to think, had been killed. By rights, Marikus had taken his place, though Seth was still not completely comfortable with the man.

“A messenger has arrived from the main encampment. Your wife has begun true labor, and the child will be born soon,” Marikus said. “She requests that you return to the camp.”

Seth felt a chill run along his spine. The thought of having a child was exhilarating and disquieting all at the same time — that it should be born as he laid waste to the second finest city in the Elven kingdom seemed an omen…but of what? “Very well, Marikus.

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