The Rise of Kings (The Flameweaver's Prophecy Book 1) by Emery Ben

Author:Emery, Ben [Emery, Ben]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Publisher: Ben Emery
Published: 2016-01-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

The pace Marrew set across the shifting red sand was almost tortuous for the armoured legionaries. While he and the behemoth wore footwear well suited to a life traversing the desert, the metal boots of the Caldoans seemed to sink deeper with each step they took, until their legs burned with the exertion of dragging them forward.

While the ground was forgivingly flat, the winds, the same that Galarus had been guided through to and from Gamga Ridge, drove at them mercilessly. Grains of sand became needles as they were whipped into a frenzy, and the legionaries were eternally grateful for the cloaks that Terran had provided for them in their supplies.

The conditions made conversation impossible while travelling, but even while camped there was little talk. The tribesmen kept to themselves, not interacting even with eachother, and, with the exception of Galarus, the Caldoans remained wary of their companions, though Marrew and the behemoth seemed to care very little.

After several days, however, the landscape had begun to change dramatically. The deserts surrounding Torncloud Mountain were monotonous, and left travellers vulnerable to the elements. But the further south they had come, the milder the winds had become, and the ground itself had begun to billow into undulating dunes; some barely ripples against the sky, others that loomed before them, and took a considerable effort to traverse.

‘We are nearing the coast,’ Marrew informed them on the sixth night of their journey. ‘It should only take another few days to reach Hanaia.’

They had pitched their tents in a sheltered basin, nestled amid the high-sided sandbanks, and had been able to light a small campfire around which they sat. Wordlessly, they each rummaged through their own packs for something to eat, tired and hungry.

‘Bastard sand gets everywhere,’ Placatas grumbled, shaking out his pack.

‘Hmm,’ Jaxon agreed, dusting off a slab of dried beef before taking a bite out of it.

‘I’m looking forward to a meal that doesn’t have half the bloody desert in it,’ Coran added with a grimace as he felt sand crunch between his teeth.

‘Not long now,’ Attais reminded them. ‘Three days and we can get ourselves some fresh food!’

‘Stop whining and get some rest,’ Galarus instructed. ‘If these dunes get any bigger, we’re going to struggle to maintain our pace.’

The soldiers obliged, huddling into their narrow tents, not looking forward to the arduous hike that awaited them the next day.

Galarus, to his own dismay, had not been wrong about the dunes, for they certainly did not shrink in size, and from the moment they had set off the following morning they were forced to climb incline after incline on the loose ground. They had travelled most of the morning in this fashion, the only respite being the speedy descent on the other side of the dunes. Trudging over the summit of yet another mountainous bank of sand, Marrew stopped dead upon its ridge. The others caught up to him and stood and stared. In the seven days that they had been en route to Hanaia, they had not seen any sign of another soul.

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