Wrath & Battle by Jonathan Moeller

Author:Jonathan Moeller [Moeller, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Azure Flame Media
Published: 2020-11-29T23:00:00+00:00

11

To War

The combined armies of the lords of the Grim Marches, the Tervingi headmen, and the High Elderborn of Tal Vormyth marched for the broken mountain and Shalthrask Tor.

Moving that many men, horses, griffins, mammoths, and supply wagons at once made for a long and cumbersome marching column. Fortunately, after all the upheavals of the last ten years, the men of the Grim Marches had ample experience marching through hostile country. Sir Tanam’s riders ranged out in all directions, circling around the army and watching for foes. Toric and the other Tervingi skythains flew overhead, observing the landscape for any oncoming Malrag warbands. Timothy and the other wizards maintained sensing spells that would warn of the approach of any foes. And they had Riothamus and his magical Sight, which could give them ample warning of both magical attack and more mundane adversaries.

As mundane as creatures like Malrags were, anyway.

It helped that they left the hill country behind and moved into a forest. Granted, it was a dense forest, with towering, ancient trees, a broad leafy canopy overhead. Yet the ground was flat, which made it easier for both men and horses to traverse. Mazael rode up and down the marching column, speaking with the lords and headmen and dealing with any problems that arose.

Today he was accompanied by Molly, Riothamus, and Rylsera and Karthyr of the High Elderborn. Romaria had gone out with the scouts, taking her wolf form and vanishing into the trees. Mazael always worried about her when she was out scouting, but today he worried no more than usual. The dense forest was the perfect environment for Romaria. If she encountered any Malrags, she could elude them with ease, or if the group was small enough, she might decide to kill them all herself.

As a gesture of goodwill, Mazael had given some horses to the captains of the High Elderborn, a token of esteem for his new allies. He had been surprised by their gratitude. It seemed that the High Elderborn had possessed horses when they had been drawn to Liminalus, but the animals had all died out during the millennia of warfare against Razalis and his Malrags. Razalis had targeted the horses deliberately, denying his foes the use of cavalry.

“Such magnificent beasts,” murmured Rylsera.

She had said the same thing about the horses, but now she was talking about the mammoths.

A line of a half-dozen of the great elephantine creatures passed, the ground trembling beneath the impact of their squat feet. Shaggy brown fur covered their flanks, and their long trunks waved back and forth. From time to time, their trunks darted out to seize some leaves or to uproot a promising-looking plant, the greenery disappearing into their mouths. Their Tervingi drivers sat upon their necks, steering the beasts with long leather reins. The enormous mammoths were placid beasts, slow to anger, no doubt because there were very few other creatures that could threaten them, but when the mammoths went to war, they were a terrifying force.

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