“We’re here to talk with Sir Harford Kull,” Aurelia said. “The matter is urgent, and I demand an audience.”
The soldiers glanced at one another, some fearful, some suspecting a trap. The sight of an elf on a winged-horse was strange enough. A cloaked assassin and a burly half-orc only tripled the confusion.
“Wait here, and keep your blades sheathed,” one of them finally said. “I’ll see if Harford will come.”
“Be nice to arrive somewhere without having people ready to kill me,” Harruq said as they waited.
More soldiers swarmed about them, maintaining a safe distance between the three. From deep in the camp came a group of eight, with the front two carrying banners of a red bear. Harruq fidgeted nervously as they waited for them to arrive. First King Antonil, now Neyvar Ceredon, Lord Sully, and this Sir Kull person. He was so tired of meeting people with potential power to have him killed. He longed for the simple nights of skulking about Veldaren in search of a troublesome thief or murderer.
“Presenting the Lord of the Southlock, Sir Kull!” shouted the banner carriers in unison. Sir Kull stepped forward. He was a tall man, his skin dark and his hair darker. His beard hung all the way to his belt, twisted in loops and braids. The knight smiled, but the joy never reached his eyes.
“A pleasure to meet such an odd group of guests,” he said after a quick bow. “Might I know whom I have the privilege of welcoming?”
“My name is Aurelia Thyne of Nellassar,” Aurelia said with a curtsey. “This is my husband, Harruq. Beside him is Haern, the King’s Watcher of Veldaren.”
Sir Kull seemed a bit surprised by the last part.
“The Watcher?” he asked. “I had heard rumors, but he was supposed to be a ghost made of cinders and coal. Yet I see just a man.”
Haern chuckled.
“If pressed, I’ll give you a demonstration, good Sir. You may not enjoy it.”
Aurelia glared, but Sir Kull only laughed.
“Indeed, indeed, how foolish of me to make light of such claims. Please, tell me, why have you come to my camp?”
“Lord Sully has already prepared his army,” Aurelia said, making sure she projected her voice far and wide so the rest of the camp heard. “He marches this morning, and his aim is clear. All your men will be killed.”
A wave of nervous chatter rolled through the ranks.
“We expected such a response,” Sir Kull said. “Though perhaps not so soon. Why does this matter concern you?”
“That is irrelevant,” Haern interrupted. “Lord Sully has two-hundred mounted warriors to fight at his side. I see no stables, no horses within your camp. You are what, three hundred men? You will be trampled underneath their hooves.”
Sir Kull’s smile faded into his beard.
“Why have you come?” he asked again, his voice low.
“To warn you,” Aurelia said. “And to present you with hope. To the northwest are the many hills beside Sully Lake. The rocks and steep slopes will render their horses annoyances, and nothing more.”
The knight crossed his arms and looked to his trusted retainers at his side.
“If they have that many men on horses, the chipped hills will be our doom,” one said. “Perhaps we can move northwest while we scout out their strength.”
“You must hurry,” Aurelia said. “The Green Castle is not far. Time is not your friend.”
Sir Kull drew his sword and saluted them.
“I don’t know your reasons, nor if you speak truth. If you do, I owe you greatly. If not…we will meet again.”
He turned and left, the soldiers returning with him. The three Eschaton remained alone on the outskirts of the camp, watched from afar by a ring of soldiers obviously there to keep an eye on them.
“So what did we just accomplish?” Harruq asked.
“The further northwest they move, the closer to the orcs and the Bone Ditch they’ll be,” Aurelia said. “Lord Sully will have to give chase. If we can get them to see the destruction the orcs have spread, perhaps our words will turn from rumors to truth.”
After giving Seleven a few more minutes to rest and drink from a nearby stream, the three mounted and soared into the air.
“Where to now?” Harruq asked.
“We’ll need to slow Lord Sully down to give them time,” Aurelia explained.
“Awesome,” Harruq said. “Do I finally get to hit something with my swords?”
“No,” Aurelia shouted.
Harruq sighed.
L ord Sully’s knights rode ahead of the main army but not far. The Eschaton watched the process from atop a nearby hill, Aurelia’s keen eyes seeing more than the rest.
“He’s too cautious,” Haern said. “If he’d abandoned the footmen and rode straight for Kull's camp, they’d overrun them with hardly a sweat. Instead they wait for the slower group of soldiers and lose much of their advantage.”
“Richard thinks Sir Kull is coming toward him, not away,” Aurelia said. “Now to make sure their travel is far from pleasant.”
Aurelia closed her eyes and lifted her hands to the heavens.
“Don’t disturb me,” she said. “And stay back. There might be a bit more lightning than I expect.”
Harruq and Haern shared a look and retreated to the bottom of the hill. High above Aurelia, the dim gray coiling of clouds slowly turned. A great wind howled from the east, bursting with sudden life. White light shone from Aurelia’s fingertips, then spread to her palms. The wind swirled around her, teasing her dress and lifting her hair. The clouds grumbled angrily, deepening to an ugly black.
Thunder roared. In the deep cold, the sound was ominous and unwelcome. The minutes passed, the wind quickened, and soon the sky was a dark curtain. With slow, careful motions, Aurelia pointed her fingers west. Magic flared out of her. The clouds rolled with the wind, lightning crackling in their center. The heavens rumbled, and freezing rain began to fall. It covered the grass, taking only seconds before turning to ice. Harruq crossed his arms and shivered, glad they’d been spared the brunt of the weather. When the rain reached the troops, Aurelia slowly relaxed and let her hands fall to her sides. Harruq trudged up the hill toward her, Haern trailing.
“They’ll find the going miserable in the cold and ice,” Aurelia said. “The rain will follow them for only an hour, but they’ll need to build fires to banish the chill, as well as remove the ice from their armor and supplies.”
She tottered a little, but Harruq caught her in his arms. The elf pressed her fingers to her temples and patiently breathed in and out.
“You going to be all right?” he asked her.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just get us into the air. We’ll find someplace further away to rest, then figure out just what Sir Kull will run into when he flees north.”
Harruq helped her atop Seleven, then sat behind her. Haern curled his cloaks about himself and leaped atop the horse’s back.
“Be glad when this damn winter is over,” he muttered.
They flew low to the ground, following the flat spaces between the hills, which Aurelia felt a likely guide for Sir Kull’s movements. As they travelled north, the hint of smoke lined the horizon.
“An army?” Harruq asked.
Aurelia shook her head, her face grim.
“I fear worse,” she said, though she didn’t explain what.
Seleven beat his mighty wings, and toward the smoke they flew. A heavy knot was twisting in Harruq’s stomach as the hills rolled past. They saw no army, but instead the remains of a large village. Without a word, they landed on the outskirts, dismounted, and surveyed the wreckage.
“They burned everything,” Haern said, shaking his head. “Just… everything.”
Over a hundred homes lay crumpled, broken boards and smoldering ash all that remained. The odor of smoke and blood hung in the air as Harruq wandered toward the village center, his hands trembling. Flies swarmed about, blanketing pools of blood and entrails that lay scattered about the streets. Despite the carnage, he saw no bodies.
“Where are they?” he asked. “Where are the dead?”
“Here,” Haern shouted. Harruq followed his voice. On the other side of the village was a giant pit, and Harruq nearly vomited at the sight. Thousands of bones were piled within. An army of crows hopped among them, feasting. When Aurelia saw it, she immediately turned away and covered her mouth.