Death Or Worse by PF Legge

Author:PF Legge
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Southlands Publishing
Published: 2020-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CH 12

WAR

The camp was calm, almost sleepy, when Conor and Gray arrived. Thin columns of grey smoke arose from cooking fires. The white tents of the Eliti were scattered among the Chan huts in an attempt to break down the animosity between the armies that had been so recently at war.

The Chan pickets were startled by the pair as they raced by them, Gray a black streak and Conor, glistening with sweat and barely clothed.

“Hey,” the younger one of them said. He was a Chan soldier who had never actually seen Conor or Gray.

The man beside him swatted him on the shoulder, “That’s them, you idiot.”

“Oh, right.”

“Bigger than I thought,” one said.

“That’s because you’re an idiot.”

The Chan and Eliti guards at the tent moved in front of them as they skidded to a halt. These were elite troops and not as intimidated as the pickets.

“What is this about, then?” One of the Eliti stepped forward. “The command council is meeting and is not to be disturbed.”

“Perfect,” said Conor as he started towards the door. The soldiers moved in front of him, hands went to swords and spears came up.

“Conor, you cannot enter without my Lady Dareen…”

Gray snarled and his hackles rose. The guards stepped back but then recovered.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” Conor said, motioning to Gray and then the guards, his palms down. “Tell them, please, that Conor and Gray have returned. There is an Eliti army in the Southlands not far from here and the hunters are on the move against them.” He swallowed and then said, “We must help.”

One of the guards grimaced, wheeled around and pushed his way through the men behind him and into the tent. They waited. The tension eased. Some of the guards started to grin and poke each other.

What a bunch of morons. But, then again, you are naked.

Conor looked down. Whatever scraps of clothing had covered him before he started running had disappeared. His body steamed in the cool air.

Ah.

His hands moved to cover himself.

“The Mother!” The guards were suddenly mortified by the thought that she would see Conor this way. One whipped off his cloak and handed it to Conor. He took it with a nod of thanks and slung it over his shoulders. It barely reached his waist.

Not quite.

No.

He shrugged off the cape, wrapped it around his waist, and held it there. The soldiers tittered, Gray rolled his eyes, and Conor went red in the face. Then the tent flap opened and the Eliti officer gestured to them to come inside.

I’m going to get something to eat while you talk.

Don’t go far. I want to be clear-headed when I am talking to Dareen.

Alright.

Gray sauntered off into the camp as Conor went into the tent.

Conor walked to a space filled with Eliti and Chan officers. Since there were more of them, it was a Chan tent. It was dark, pungent, and lit by bright orange fires. The Chan met standing up and in a circle.

Dareen was facing him and as she started to greet him, her eyes narrowed and she cocked her head slightly.

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