Wrath of the Black Tower by Jack Conner

Author:Jack Conner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epic fantasy, action, adventure, fantasy
Publisher: Jack Conner
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

“Oathbreaker,” Raugst snarled, furious. “Bastard!” How could Vrulug be attacking? They had a deal!

Darkness gathered about him, but he thrust his torch forward and drove it back, one foot at a time. The stench of the sewer nauseated him, but he had anger to distract him. He thought of Vrulug, and rage filled him.

The face of Niara rose up in front of his mind’s eye, then, and everything else faded away. How could she be dead? It seemed impossible. What made it even worse was the surety that she could have healed herself had she not given him her grace. She had, though, and now she was gone—and slain by one who loved her! It was a cruel jest of uncaring gods. Raugst had thought, foolishly, that now that he was beyond the sway of Gilgaroth, the goodly gods would smile on him and his endeavors. But no. The world was just as loathsome and unkind as ever. He was half-tempted to abandon his quest, simply to crouch down in these tunnels and await the fall of Thiersgald.

Knowing that Niara would have wished otherwise, he pressed on. He walked beside the foul currents of the sewer, where the underground escape route connected and intertwined for a ways. He held a rag to his nose and mouth, though it did little good.

Why does Vrulug attack? The wolf-lord was violating their arrangement. Raugst had become king; Felgrad should be safe. Perhaps when Raugst met with him and showed the wolf-lord his signet ring, Vrulug would relent. That was our bargain, curse him.

A dark figure emerged from a cross-tunnel, and another behind it—inhuman things, tall and furred and monstrous. Raugst’s torch caught their gleaming, slaver-coated fangs and turned their eyes to glittering red orbs.

They advanced on him.

He held his torch in closer, giving them a look at his face. “Molest me and suffer,” he warned, a hand straying to the hilt of his light-blessed sword.

“My lord,” one growled. “We did not expect you.”

“Good. I don’t like to have my itinerary known.” He strode forward, his lieutenants falling in beside him.

“No sign of Giorn or his men,” said one.

“There won’t be.”

“Pardon, my lord?”

“I’ve dealt with him to my satisfaction.”

They fell silent. He had positioned them and others down here to prevent Giorn from reaching Castle Wesrain by the secret route, and now that Giorn was not a threat they were doubtlessly wondering what their new orders would be. He could obviously not order them to return to the castle—although, he reflected, it would be amusing to see Giorn’s face if he did.

“You lot’ll stay here,” he said. “I have other enemies that might try and attack.”

“We shall, my lord.”

“Leave me.”

They withdrew, merging with the darkness of the sewers with eerie ease.

Raugst moved on. He had informed Giorn of the creatures in these tunnels, though Giorn had already guessed at their presence, and he did not doubt that the baron would send a raiding party to deal with them in time. Raugst would never know.

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