The final man that Moorgoth introduced was named Uwel Lors. And if Belhesser resembled a half-elf, Uwel resembled a half-goblin. Theros had never imagined one person could be so ugly. An older man, in his late forties, Uwel looked every bit as tough as the steel armor chain mail that he wore. Uwel appeared to be friendly enough, however. He saluted smartly, then shook hands with Theros.
“Good day, sir. It’s a pleasure to have a new smith with us, sir.” Uwel had a strange, clipped way of talking. “I am responsible for the dress, drill, deportment and most of all, the discipline of the rank and file in this army. I am not an officer like yourselves, sir, but I am the senior ranking nonofficer in the army. If you have a discipline problem, come to me.
“Now sir, I understand that you’ve fought with minotaur armies before, but never with a human army. Is this true?”
Theros frowned and nodded yes. He was angered, thinking that Uwel might mean this for some sort of insult.
“Not to worry, sir!” Uwel said brightly. “We’re run a little different, and with a lot more discipline than those huge beasts. Still, we get the job done.”
Uwel saluted and went back to the front of the wagon train to confer with the drivers.
Baron Moorgoth slapped Theros on the back. Whatever ill humor the baron had been in back at the forge, he seemed to have regained his good temper among his men. “Introductions are over. Let’s get on the road!”
The army commander barked an order to Uwel in the front. The drivers mounted their wagons. Uwel called “Forward!” in a voice that seemed to echo through the city, and the first wagon lurched into motion.
Everyone walked except the drivers with their loads. There were four officers, including the army commander and Theros, and twenty other men, not counting the drivers.
The wagon train rounded a corner, rolling past the Belching Fury. At the sight, the barmaids poured out of the tavern and into the street. They exchanged banter with the passing men.
Theros looked around to see if there was any sign of Marissa. From inside the inn, she saw him and waved, then suddenly ran outside to the line of men. They all tried to catch hold of her, including Baron Moorgoth, who clearly thought she was running out to greet him. She avoided them all and came straight to Theros. Putting her arms around him, she gave him a warm, deep kiss.
“I heard about what happened to your forge. Don’t worry. You’ll make your fortune with the baron. When you get back, you come and look me up!” Marissa said and, laughing, she ran back to the inn.
The men cheered. Theros felt his face burn, but it was burning with pleasure. The baron, looking back, was clearly displeased. He motioned to Uwel Lors, said something to the half-goblin. Uwel nodded and fell out of the line of moving wagons. Theros, who could still feel Marissa’s kiss on his lips, didn’t pay any attention.
The wagon train continued on through the city, moving north.
Theros could think only of Marissa. “Why is it,” he muttered to himself, “that good things only come to me when I’ve got to leave them behind?”
* * * * *
The men and wagons joined the road that would take them across the north pass through the Guardian Mountains and then through the Khalkist Mountains, leading to a city known as Neraka. Theros had never heard of it.
It took four days for the wagons to cross the mountains. When they reached Neraka, Theros thought it seemed ordinary enough, much like any other city, with stone buildings and market stalls and more people than it knew what to do with. But he hadn’t been in the city long before he decided he was mistaken. There was an eerie feeling about Neraka. It was the feeling that he was being watched, a chill in the blood that he could not explain.
He and Yuri walked its streets shortly after their arrival. Theros kept turning around, thinking that someone was following him. Whenever he looked back, there was no one there. Yet he felt the hair prickle on the back of his neck.
Yuri was obviously feeling something of the same. He jumped at every sound and refused to let Theros out of his sight.
“I’ve heard that there is a temple of evil here. Do you think it’s true?” Yuri asked in a whisper.
Theros laughed, but his laugh was hollow. “How can that be true? Have you not heard the story of the Seekers? They say that there are no gods. I know them to be wrong, of course, but there is no temple to Sargas in Neraka.”
Yuri was not convinced. “If there were evil gods, they’d be here,” he said softly.
Theros wouldn’t admit it, but he knew how the boy felt. Something dreadful was going on here, though no one spoke of it aloud. He could see it in the blank, cold stares of those they passed, in the voices that hushed the moment anyone came within hearing, in the faces that retreated back into shadows.
The other men seemed to feel the same, all except Uwel and Baron Moorgoth. The baron, in particular, was not in the least disquieted, seemed quite at home in the region. He ordered a halt for the evening at the north end of town.
That night, the baron called an assembly.
“I know you’ve all been wondering where we’re headed. For security purposes, I haven’t told any of you. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but ale has a way of talking, so the saying goes. The army has barracks in Gargath, northwest of here by fifty miles. We will join with them and prepare to move north. The campaigning season is nearly upon us.”
“North? How far north?” someone asked.
“We will move another hundred miles or so north of Gargath. There are some villages in the area that have proved to be rather stubborn about paying us for protecting them from bandits.” Moorgoth laughed, as if at some private joke. “I have reason to believe that we’ll find riches there and that we will have a very good year.”
With the plan laid out for them, the men all drank to the success of the army.
The next morning, they left Neraka and followed the path to Gargath. The next two days they spent in the mountains. By the start of the third day, they had crossed the Busuk Range and moved into the extended valley that lay ahead of them. By the middle of the fourth day, they entered Gargath.
At the first sight of Gargath, the hearts of the soldiers all cheered. It had been a long trip. A troop of cavalry, twenty strong, equipped with long spears and chain mail armor, rode up to meet them.
The troop commander saluted the baron. “Hail, sir. We’re glad to have you back. I see that your mission in Sanction was a success!”
“Yes, indeed. Tell Commander Roshenka to prepare to receive our new officers and men. Have him cook a special meal for tonight. I want to introduce our new warriors to the rest of the army.”
The young officer saluted and galloped off toward the town. The rest of the troop remained with the procession. Half an hour later, they entered the gates of Gargath.
Theros was amazed. The entire town looked as if it were here to do nothing but support and house the army. The streets were crowded with soldiers, along with their women and children, all gathered to cheer their commander and welcome him back home. The main street was lined with stables and barracks. An open plaza stood in the center of the town. Across the plaza was the army’s headquarters.
Moorgoth called his new officers together. “Here, gentlemen, is where you will be staying.”
He pointed to the headquarters building. Uwel Lors took Yuri and the other men aside and showed them their barracks. They marched off at a brisk pace, Uwel shouting commands as they moved. Theros watched Yuri a bit anxiously. The young man was not much of a marcher.
Sure enough, Yuri stumbled, almost knocking down the man in front of him.
Quicker than the eye could follow, Uwel lashed out with a whip he carried on his belt. The tip caught Yuri on the rear end. Yuri screeched, tumbled out of line. Uwel caught him, shoved him back in.