A Whisper After Midnight (7 page)

The throne room reeked of rotting flesh. Flies buzzed in thick clouds. Many of Badron’s advisors refused to enter, secretly citing the unnaturalness of it all. Their king had lost his mind, surrounded by corpses and puddles of dried blood. Half-chewed bones scattered the corners. Badron sat in amusement as the dogs devoured his dead enemies. Only the senior ranking Goblins felt comfortable in his presence. The dank, musky air and overpowering feeling of death made them feel at home. Badron cared less. His mind walked down paths very few had ever trodden. He looked forward to the whispered promises of the Dae’shan. Amar Kit’han spoke of the coming time when Badron would be crowned lord of the entire north. Master of the world from the west to the east. All he needed to do was kill his daughter and find true freedom.

Lost in one of his now frequent dark moods, Badron failed to notice Grugnak enter the throne room. The Goblin commander marched up to the broken throne, head held high. His black armor was dented and filthy. Hair plastered wildly about his face and neck. His normally dull grey skin seemed pale, gangrenous. The anger in his eyes reflected the hungry flames from the twin braziers flanking the throne.

“Two hundred more dead,” he growled in broken speech.

Badron didn’t bother looking up. His head rested on a fist, staring off into the distance at visions no one else could see.

Grugnak stepped closer, hand dangerously close to his sword. “Did you not hear? More dead. We must attack!”

“What difference does two hundred make?” Badron asked suddenly. “I have a combined force of close to twenty thousand combat soldiers. Two hundred is nothing.”

“Two hundred Goblins! When do Men begin dying?” Grugnak demanded.

“Why, since our creation. Do not think to lay claim to unprecedented violence. Man is more terrible than the foulest Goblin.”

Badron fell silent again, leaving the Goblin commander to stew. He had better things to occupy his time than a disgruntled puppet. For in the end that was all the Goblin force amounted to: puppets. He planned on sacrificing every single one of them before the end. After all, why waste good, able-bodied Men when you had another army willing to fight and die at no cost?

The crisp sound of steel being drawn from the scabbard echoed throughout the room. “Maybe I take my army back to the Dead Lands.”

“Maybe you should,” Badron countered. “Rogscroft has fallen. I don’t need you anymore.”

“Maybe we go to Delranan instead.”

More swords were drawn as Badron’s guards ringed the Goblin. Their gaze went from Grugnak to Badron, eager for the command to slay the foul creature. Badron did nothing. Grugnak snarled and spit.

“Coward.”

“Beware your words, Goblin. I had no qualm with sacrificing your troops to take this city and I’ll have none in spitting your head beside Stelskor’s.” Badron rose. His bulk more than a match for the shorter Goblin, he towered over Grugnak with unmistakable menace. “I have no patience for ignorance. Speak out of turn again and I’ll have every last one of your people put to death. Am I clear?”

Grugnak swallowed, fingers dancing over his sword hilt. Killing Badron wouldn’t prove difficult. Whatever he might be now was but a shadow of his former self. The king of Delranan might have fought many wars but they were long ago. He hadn’t swung a sword in combat in decades, giving Grugnak the advantage if he could only get close enough. Reluctantly he sheathed his sword. The time would come soon enough.

Badron nodded, as if the outcome had never been in doubt. “I knew you’d see reason, my friend. Now as to those two hundred of yours. Where were they lost?”

“In the mountain passes.”

So the Pell have finally thrown in. It took them long enough
. “The Pell are ruthless, far more so than your kind. Digging them out will prove difficult. We must double our efforts. The snows continue to deepen. I want the Pell brought to heel quickly. We march on Delranan in the spring.”

“I need moresoldiers,” Grugnak said, ignoring most of what he’d been told. Badron’s dreams of conquest meant nothing to him. He had been sent by Amar Kit’han to assist in the conduct of Badron’s war and to help prepare the way for the return of the dark gods. Faithless, Grugnak cared little for gods and conquest. He merely wanted to fight, to feel the ripping sensation of his sword driving into flesh. Nothing else mattered.

Badron rubbed his tired eyes. “I shall inform General Rolnir to detach two battalions. That should provide sufficient strength to accomplish your task, Commander. Now, leave me.”

Visibly insulted, Grugnak turned and left without a word. Thoughts of murdering Badron entertained him as he made his way back to his army.

*****

“New orders just came down,” Rolnir announced to his gathered commanders. “None of you are going to like them.”

Piper Joach cut a slice from his green apple and popped it in his mouth. “I think I can speak for all of us when I say we haven’t liked a damned thing since entering Rogscroft.”

“Keep that noise to yourself, Piper. The king has ears everywhere,” Rolnir scolded, disappointed his commander didn’t know better.
Or perhaps he just doesn’t care anymore. This war is taking a toll on us all. I only pray we have what it takes to make it out alive
.

Rebuked, Piper dipped his head. “Yes sir. What are our orders?”

Taking a deep breath, the red-haired general almost couldn’t bring himself to speak. “The king has ordered two full battalions to assist the Goblins in driving the Pell Darga out of the mountains. They are to report to Grugnak at dawn.”

“He does hate us, doesn’t he,” Ulaf, master of engineers, said.

Rolnir couldn’t help but grin. “It appears that way, doesn’t it? Regardless of his likes or dislikes, he is our king and we are honor bound to obey. Herger, I need two of your best.”

The dour-faced Herger grimaced with displeasure. His thick beard hung just below the rim of his chest armor, as black as midnight. “Why my best, General? Chances are the damned Goblins will turn on them the moment they see the advantage.”

“Of course they will. Which is exactly why I need the best. Grugnak is about as trustworthy as a prostitute. I’m counting on the Goblins turning.”

Piper finished chewing and added, “Gives us an excuse to finally do what’s right, and get rid of a fair chunk of their combat force at the same time.”

While he couldn’t disagree, Rolnir realized they were getting off the topic. “Make no mistake, gentlemen, our troops are going up into the Murdes Mountains in the middle of winter to fight the Pell Darga on their own ground. I wouldn’t care to take them on under the best of conditions but the choice isn’t mine.”

Herger finally nodded, more excited at the prospect of killing Goblins than anything, and said, “Very well. I will go inform the commanders. How long do we expect them to be deployed?”

“Weeks at a minimum. Prepare for a month. We’ll resupply as necessary. I want swords sharpened and shields strong. This isn’t going to be easy.”

“They know their jobs,” he said and left the command building.

Piper ruefully rubbed his chin. “You’re asking a lot from his infantry.”

Rolnir fixed him with a baleful glare. “I’m not the one asking.”

They waited until the rest of the commanders left. A hollow silence filled the space between them. Best friends since joining the Wolfsreik, Rolnir and Piper struggled to find the right words, any words, to say. They felt stretched, spread too thin across an enemy kingdom and cut off from the much needed support from home. Every citizen they encountered was hostile, despite the false smiles and occasional waves. Over a hundred men had been lulled to their deaths by the
conquered
people.

Morale began to plunge the moment the Goblin army arrived and continued to drop the longer into the campaign they got. Soldiers fought for varied reasons: friends, the absence of friends, kingdom, or plunder. Not a one wanted to be away from home longer than necessary. They floundered in the occupation. Mistakes continued to rise. Men flooded the surgeons’ tents with careless injuries. Drunkenness became a large problem as the winter lengthened. The brig was constantly filled as discipline broke down. Rolnir felt the famed Wolfsreik discipline slipping away and couldn’t find a way out. They’d never experienced a prolonged occupation and it was taking a heavy toll.

“What’s on your mind?” Piper asked. “I haven’t seen you this stoic since you relieved my vanguard a few months ago.”

Rolnir got up to pour a glass of water. “Want one?”

“No thank you.”

Finishing half of it in a single gulp, Rolnir sat back down and looked his friend dead in the eye. “I’m questioning the authority in all of this. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around.”

“I’m serious, Piper. The invasion was all well and fine, but nothing we’ve done since has served any purpose I can see. We are an army wasting itself away at the whims of a madman.” His voice trailed off to a low whisper.

Piper stared at him hard for a moment, unsure if he was being tested or not. More than one man had been arrested on charges of sedition against the crown. It wasn’t a stretch to think Rolnir had been ordered to ensure the loyalties of his command team.

“You… speak dangerous words,” he finally said.

“Do you deny them? How many Men have we lost to carelessness? How many to drunken altercations with the wrong people? How many have been killed or wounded because they wanted to mingle with the locals? I’m tired, Piper. This occupation should have ended the moment Badron cut Stelskor’s head off. We have no right to remain here.”

Piper decided to take the opposite stance, still unsure what was happening. “Or you could look at it as we have every right to be here. We conquered Rogscroft. They are defeated, broken and scattered to all four corners of their kingdom. This is what conquerors do, Rolnir. They occupy and pacify newly won territories in the name of throne and kingdom.”

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were a spy,” the general mused.

Piper forced a grin. “I’m too ticklish. Never be able to hold sensitive information that way. What’s really digging into you? You’re making me worried now.”

Rolnir exhaled a long, slow breath. “I’m hearing reports, rumors mostly, that Harnin One Eye has overthrown the loyalist government and assumed control of Delranan. Badron knows this and is consumed with taking back his kingdom, even if it costs all our lives trying to break through the passes. All indicators point to us on the verge of civil war.”

“You know how rumors are. You can’t trust them. Too many times a slip of information turns into an avalanche of doom and gloom.”

“I wish it were that simple, Piper. I really do, but this information comes from scouts returning back to the camp. I took a trip up to Dredl to speak with some of the resupply boat captains.”

This is news to me. Explains where you disappeared to awhile back though
. “And? What did they say?” Piper asked.

“Chaos has taken Chadra. The people live in constant fear. Bodies are found in the streets daily. Harnin has grown more corrupt than Badron.” He fell silent, staring off into nowhere.

“That is...distressful. Should we take the army back and restore order?” Piper asked, not knowing what else to say. He’d never dreamed of such a scenario. Briefly his thoughts turned to his friends and family, what few he still had, and the horrors they must be going through. He wanted to go home, help where he could, but one Man wasn’t enough to change the world.

Rolnir reluctantly shook his head. “No, we’d never be able to get back in time with enough strength and Badron won’t let us leave. Whatever dark purpose drives these two must be some sort of disease. I can’t figure it out. We’re in this deep, Piper.”

They both knew of Badron’s gradual change. He hadn’t been the same since the loss of his only son back in autumn. Darkness crept into his world. His decisions seemed guided, demented and perverse. Rolnir couldn’t make sense of how the king changed. Certain inner circle members whispered of a strange figure lurking behind the throne, speaking into the king’s ear. It conspired against Delranan, driven by some unseen agenda. Worse, neither Man had been able to find a way to be alone with Badron since the sack of Rogscroft.

“How many dead? Chadra isn’t a large city.”

Rolnir finished his water. “A few dozen every day. There is one bright bit of news, however. Lord Argis has turned against the king and leads the insurrection.”

Piper’s eyes flew wide. “Insurrection? We need to return immediately! Rogscroft can wait. Delranan needs us.”

“Calm yourself, my friend. We can’t. Let Argis run his rebellion and hope for the best. I have a feeling we’re going to be needed here before too long.”

“So what do we do? Our options grow smaller as the days progress,” Piper said. “We don’t run. We can’t leave. This feels hopeless.”

Rolnir snorted a laugh. “Because it is! If I were a lesser Man I’d have sent scouts out to find Aurec and negotiate a truce.”

He stopped abruptly, instantly aware of the severity of what he’d just said.
Treason! I’ve spent a life dedicated to soldiering only to succumb to thoughts of treason. Perhaps it’s time I stepped down. Retire before my mind gets me into too much trouble
. “I’m tired, Piper. Go and check on Herger. He’s a good man but prone to rashness. Make sure he sends the right battalions. We can’t afford any mistakes at this junction.”