The Way of Edan by Philip Chase

Author:Philip Chase [Chase, Philip]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Published: 2023-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

13

THE OLD WORKS OF GIANTS

“I hear Dweorg women are as hairy-arsed as the men. Must be like fucking a goat!” Up ahead, Wonred led the laughter that broke out among the mercenary company after his jest. Hooves clopping and mail clinking, they rode ahead of Dayraven, Imharr, Gnorn, and Hlokk, who stayed in the dusty rear as they followed the road to Etinstone.

“Seems he knows all about goat fucking,” said Imharr loud enough for the entire company to hear.

Wonred turned around to glare, but the rest of the soldiers laughed and guffawed even louder than before.

“Steady on, lads!” came the lieutenant’s voice from the front of the column. “I’ve a bottle of wine from South Torrlond waiting for me back at the quarters, and the fool who delays that meeting will be emptying latrines for the rest of his miserable days.”

In the distance, the great buildings of Etinstone rose into view like an alien growth sprawling all over the plain. Dayraven tried to remember to keep his mouth closed in an attempt not to appear as awestruck and naïve as he felt. Riding behind the rest of the Mercenary Company in accordance with Lieutenant Ludecan’s orders, the four companions had spent the journey conversing together and, most of the time, did their best to ignore the rest of the company. As Gnorn had predicted, there had been no opportunity for Dayraven and Imharr to desert the company along the way, with Lieutenant Ludecan or his most trusted men keeping an eye on the pair.

Amidst his anxiety about how he would reach Galdor, Dayraven had at least enjoyed the company of the two Dweorgs. A few of the other soldiers, like old Eafa and a little fellow called Sebbi, had made some attempts at conversation with him and Imharr. Part of Dayraven was even glad he would get a glimpse of one of Torrlond’s great cities, though the worry about how he would avoid all the priests in Etinstone gnawed at him. Still, he could not take his eyes off the view unfolding before him. Never had he seen anything like a vast city, never dreamed of anything like it. Gazing ahead at the clusters of towers, spires, and domes soaring upward from the flat, green plain, he mused aloud, “How can folk pile up so much stone? How could any city be larger?”

Gnorn grunted. “Torrhelm is thrice the size. Even Etinstone seems small when you’ve been to Torrlond’s chief city. Grand and cursed, a place like no other is Torrhelm. Yet Etinstone’s the elder of the two.”

“What do you know of its history?” asked Dayraven.

Gnorn, a loremaster among his people, smiled as his squat horse plodded along. He began with a line now familiar to Dayraven and Imharr: “Dweorgs’ memories are long, for we watched the coming of the Andumae and your people. The land we ride in now was not always known as Torrlond. ‘Land of Towers’ the conquerors named it, such was their awe of the remnants of the kingdom they laid low.

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