Douglas Niles: The Kinslayer Wars

Instead, she had become his prisoner.

Her heart quailed as she remembered the man’s dark tortures, his means of gaining information from his captives. And no captive had ever possessed such valuable information as the wife of his chief enemy.

Now the general laughed heartily, placing his hands on his hips and leaning backward like a young man. “My death, you should know, is not so easily attained.”

Suzine stared at him.

“Do you remember the last night of General Barnet?” She would never forget that awful, shriveled corpse, cast aside by General Giarna like an empty shell, drained of all its life.

“My powers come from places you cannot begin to understand!” He paced in agitation, looking at her.

“There are gods who care for people of power, gods whose names are only whispered in the dead of night, for fear of frightening the children!” General Giarna whirled again, his brow furrowed in concentration. “There is Morgion, god of disease and decay. I tell you, he can be bought! I pay him in lives, and he saves his curse from my flesh! And there are others—Hiddukel, Sargonnas! And of course—” his voice dropped to a whisper; his body quivered, and he looked at Suzine—“the Queen of Darkness, Takhisis herself! They say that she is banished, but that’s a lie. She is patient and she is generous. She bestows her powers on those who earn her favor!

“It is the power of life, in all its aspects! It allows me to be strong and young, while those around me grow old and die!”

Now he stared directly at her, and there seemed to be genuine anguish in his voice. “You might have shared this with me! You were a woman of power. You would have made a fitting partner for me! Who knows, one day we might have ruled Ergoth itself!”

“Your madness consumes you,” Suzine replied.

“It is not madness!” he hissed. “You cannot kill me. No human can kill me!

Nor a dwarf, nor an elf. None may slay me!”

General Giarna paced restlessly. A steady beat of rain suddenly began pounding on the roof, forcing him to raise his voice. “Not only do I remain young and vigorous, but I am also invulnerable! ” He looked at her sideways, slyly. I even had my men capture a griffon so that I might devour it and take over its aura. Now not even one of those beasts—the bane of this long war—can claim my blood.

“But enough of this talk,” said Giarna, suddenly rough. He took her arm and pulled her to a chair, throwing her into it.

“My spies tell me that the Wildrunners prepare an attack. They will move on my headquarters here because they have learned of our plans to ambush the griffons.”

Suzine looked at him dumbly.

“No doubt you know the route of march they will take when they come west. You will tell me. Be sure of this, you will tell me. I will simply move my ambush and consummate the victory that has eluded me for so long.” Fear pulsed hotly in Suzine’s mind. She did know! Many nights she had been present during battle planning between Parnigar and Kith-Kanan. The other officers had ignored her, assuming that she wasn’t listening, but out of curiosity, she had paid attention and absorbed most of the details.

“The only question is—” Giarna’s voice was a deep bass warning—“will you tell me now or afterward?”

Her mind focused with exceptional clarity. She heard the rain beating steadily against the wooden frame of the house. She thought of her children and her husband, and then she knew.

There was a way—an escape for her! But she had to act fast, before she had second thoughts.

Her bleeding fingers, still clutching the knife blade, jerked upward. Giarna saw the movement, an expression of mild annoyance flickering across his face. The crone already knew she couldn’t harm him!

Him. In that instant, he recognized his mistake as the keen edge sliced through Suzine’s own neck. A shower of bright blood exploded from the torn artery, covering the general as the old woman slumped to the ground at his feet.

One-Tooth plodded through yet another thunderstorm. His march, already an epic by hill giant standards, had taken him through the foothills of his beloved mountains and across hundreds of miles of flatlands.

How did people ever live around here? He wondered at a life without the comforting rocky heights. He felt vulnerable and naked on these open prairies of grass.

Of course, his journey was made easier by the fact that such inhabitants as he encountered fled in panic at his approach, giving him a free sampling of whatever food had been bubbling on the stove or whatever milk might be chilling in the damp cellar.

The giant still didn’t know why he had embarked upon this quest or what his ultimate destination would be. But his feet swung easily below him, and the miles continued to fall behind. He felt young again, more spry than he had in decades.

And he was propelled by an inchoate sense of destiny. When his march ended, that was where his destiny would be found.

Rain lashed at the griffon and its rider, but the pair pressed on through the storm. Though the day was hours old, the horizon around them remained twilit and dim, so heavy was the gray blanket of clouds. Arcuballis flew low, seeking a place to land, cringing still closer to the earth against sudden blasts of lightning that seemed to warn them from the sky.

Finally Kith-Kanan found it—the small house in the center of the farmstead, down the trail where the coachman had seen Suzine disappear. Parnigar had showed him the trail two miles back, but he had flown past the clearing twice. So closely entwined were the overhanging branches that he hadn’t even noticed it.

The trailhead was more than two miles away, and she couldn’t have walked much farther than this. Yet there seemed to be nothing else besides anonymous woods for several miles in all directions. This had to be the place. Arcuballis dove quickly to earth, dropping like a stone between the limbs of the broad elms. The griffon landed in a crouch, and Kith’s sword was in his hand.

The door to the small house stood partially open, slamming and banging against its frame as the wind gusts shifted direction. The yard around the house was churned to mud, mired by the hooves of countless horses. Blackened pits showed where great cook fires had burned, but now these were simply holes filled with sodden ash.

Cautiously Kith-Kanan dismounted and approached the house. He pushed the door fully open and saw that it consisted of one main room, and that room was now a shambles. Overturned tables, broken chairs, a pile of discarded uniforms, and a collection of miscellaneous debris all contributed to the disarray.

He began to pick through debris, kicking things with his boots and moving big pieces with his free hand, always holding his longsword at the ready. He found little of worth until, near the back corner, his persistence was rewarded. A tingle of apprehension ran along his spine as he uncovered a wooden box he recognized instantly, for it was the one Suzine had used to store her mirror. Kneeling, he pulled it from beneath a moldy saddle blanket. He opened the top, and his reflection stared back at him. The mirror had remained intact. Then as he looked, the image in the glass grew pale and wavery, and suddenly the picture became something else entirely.

He saw a black-cloaked human riding a dark horse, leading a column of men through the rain. The human army was on the march. He could recognize no landmarks, no signposts in the murky scene. But he knew that the humans were moving.

Obviously the planned ambush of the Windriders was suspected and now would have to be cancelled. But where did the humans march? Kith had a sickening flash of Sithelbec, practically defenseless since most of the garrison had marched into the field with the Wildrunners. Could General Giarna be that bold?