Tenebroum by D. Winchester

Author:D. Winchester [Winchester, D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0DKYH66R9
Publisher: Royal Guard Publishing LLC
Published: 2024-10-08T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Laying the Foundation

Fall, 427 — Blackwater Fen

Kelvun Garvin

Kelvun hated it in the swamp. Even though the heat had dramatically decreased over the last few weeks as fall set in, and the biting flies and mosquitoes left him strangely untouched, he was still miserable.

There had been nothing to do here for weeks besides watch other men work. Once the rains had started, things had somehow managed to become even more deadly dull if such a thing was possible.

In the evening, he’d found a few soldiers to play cards with, but that was it. Anything else his tutors quickly put a stop to, and with the rains, he couldn’t even leave the pavilion to escape them. It was truly his version of hell.

Even the dreams had stopped, he thought glumly, as he pushed away the grammar book he was supposed to be memorizing. He thought here, near where everything had happened, would be a source of excitement at least, but even that had disappointed recently.

He had no idea why it would be important to walk out into the swamp in the middle of the night to retrieve a guttering torch and use it to light the forge fires of their newly-constructed smithy. Once he’d done so, though, even the strange dark dreams he had so often finally stilled.

That probably meant that he was doing exactly what the swamp wanted of him, of course. As far as he was concerned, that just meant the darkness that dwelled here wanted him to be bored, which was a fate worse than death as far as he was concerned.

Like a condemned man, he would listen to the smith’s forge a as they slowly created another link in the three-hundred-foot chain they were making. Meanwhile, all of the saws and hammers that were creating the timbers to be used in the construction of the tower, only added to the racket.

In time, the little outpost would become the tax authority for the whole southern reach of the river. It was a shabby little timber and stone building, and a poor start for what would inevitably become a village, he thought sourly.

If it were up to him, he would have commissioned something more beautiful and imposing to represent his family’s authority. However, his father had denied him the stonemasons and the extra costs they would bring.

A keep would be nice, he thought, looking at the progress his men were making. Really, though, anything would be better than this squat little thing.

The little drum tower they were building had been chosen largely because of the quantity of stone that was already on site. At some point, an older tower had been erected here, but it was long gone now. Only the ruins remained.

So, it was doomed to be an ugly, squat little structure. Some of the workers wondered about that, and rumors spread through the camp about the old stories. Zombies and worse were whispered about in hushed tones around the campfire. Still, the fact that a ravaging horde

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