A Time of War and Demons by S. E. Wendel

Author:S. E. Wendel [Wendel, S. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-28T06:00:00+00:00

Thirty-Three

Dunstan Gilcriss, first of the Dunstan Line, brought an end to our suffering and bore the heavy burden of the Highlands upon his own shoulders. And we were grateful. Here, finally, was the king we wanted and wished for. How could we have known then, the price we would pay for such a wish?

—from Chronicles of the Highland Wars

Everything was in place—swords and shields and spears lay about both decoratively and threateningly, each chief, adorned in gleaming armor, fur cloaks, and weapons, lined up by rank in two columns extending in a V-shape from Larn on his makeshift wooden throne. All was ready for the Highland dignitaries to surrender to Larn.

Since arriving at Dannawey and making camp within half a league of the city, with its impossibly high wall, Larn had fancied taking the city without any blood spilled. So, this time, rather than pressing their advantage of numbers in the night as they had at Highcrest, they displayed themselves openly in front of Dannawey. The tents were raised in tidy rows, the men and horses were watered and rested, and all war machines, including three catapults dearer to Larn than his own children, were now pointed at the city. They were putting on a show of force for Arion Morn. Larn thought it, and the knowledge of what they’d done to Highcrest, would all but ensure their victory. And so, Arion Morn had been summoned to talk. Manek knew better. He’d been summoned to surrender.

For his part, Larn looked every bit the haughty conqueror, swimming in gold and bear hide. As intended, it was him the emissaries from Dannawey first spied as they cautiously entered the billowing tent.

Manek, three down the line on Larn’s left, took careful stock of the four Highland lords. They were equally dressed to impress, though Larn surely wouldn’t find them threatening. Beneath intricately engraved cuirasses the four men wore well worked leathers with silken shirts peeking out at their throats. Gauntlets of steel and rings of gold shimmered in the torchlight of the tent. But perhaps what struck Manek most was the symmetry of each man. The men wore clothes and armor made for them. Larn’s retinue looked piecemeal at best.

Of the men, the most striking was the youngest. While his companions had to be over forty, the young man stood like a sun god amongst mortals. His jaunty jaw was clamped shut, the tendons of his neck taut beneath the skin. Laugh lines ran beneath cool eyes that slowly took in the Midlanders, bestowing each with a measure of disdain.

Leaning forward in his seat, Larn welcomed the men. “I’m pleased you’ve accepted my invitation.”

The man in front acknowledged Larn’s words with a terse nod.

Resting his elbows on the arms of his chair, Larn went on. “I wish it were on better terms we met for the first time, my lords. History remembers men such as us, you see, and it’s a shame that our stories must be so told.”

“Dannawey has a long history, Lord Midland.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.