Read Online A Whisper After Midnight by Christian Warren Freed - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christian Warren Freed
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“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.”
“Yes sir.”
Piper saluted and left. Rolnir stared after him for a while before finally drooping his head and letting go of the cold breath he’d been holding.
SEVEN
The Plight of Lord Argis
Armed guards patrolled the streets of Chadra around the clock since Harnin One Eye assumed control of the kingdom. His reach went deep, but loosened the further away from the capital the kingdom stretched. Yet for all his show of force, Harnin lacked complete control of Chadra. Argis’s rebellion was much stronger than he originally believed. The attack on the armory at the docks showed him how wrong he’d been. The rebellion was stronger than he’d anticipated, forcing him to adjust his initial plans. What he’d intended to be brutally quick and efficient denigrated into a series of hit-and-miss attacks ranging throughout the city and down to Stouds on the coast.
Every day the rebellion continued meant another day closer to the mountain passes clearing. Harnin dreaded the Wolfsreik’s return, knowing it would mean the end of all of his grand schemes. Not that he was helpless. His agents sent word to the rest of the northern kingdoms for the best assassins. Many declined, citing regicide as going a step too far, but enough were eager to make their names. Their combined guile should prove more than enough to deal with Badron. Or so Harnin hoped.
“Another three attacks last night,” Jarrik reported, throwing a stack of parchments to the aged oak table.
Harnin didn’t bother looking down. His gaze remained fixed on the rising sun. Sparkling rays of golden light ripped through the veil of darkness. Once, such a sight would have inspired him, but now he felt hollow. Darkness proved more comfortable. He came to despise what the daylight represented, the purity of the light becoming offensive.
“How many casualties?” he asked without taking his eyes off the diminishing night.
Jarrik passed a wary glance to his side, to Inion. “Too many by all reports. Six dead and thirteen more injured. We can’t keep sustaining such loses.”
Harnin wasn’t concerned. “How many rebels?”
Young and thickly muscled, Skaning folded his arms over his chest and spat. “Two.”
Finally Harnin turned. “Two what?”
“Two dead. That’s it. No wounded, no blood trails.”
“We are losing this war,” Inion added.
Harnin rose much too swiftly, sweeping the clay jar from the table. It crashed into the wall, stale beer splashing. “There is no room for seditious thoughts in my kingdom, Inion. Another word and I’ll have your head.”
Inion swallowed hard. Another time and he might have accepted the challenge but a dark power lingered around Harnin, making it near impossible to harm him. Inion had seen it once. The manifestation of evil lurking just over Harnin’s shadow. It disappeared quickly, as if letting Inion know it was there to dissuade the thought of striking out.
Skaning slammed a meaty fist into the table. “Damn it, Harnin, he speaks the truth. We are losing Men daily without any notion of the rebels’ losses. Our militias aren’t recruiting the numbers needed to sustain this conflict.”
“Conscript more!” Harnin raged.
“Most of the population is sympathetic to the rebellion. They see the bodies hanging from the streets. The way our soldiers patrol Chadra with iron authority.”
“I declared martial law for a reason,” Harnin replied. “Keep the people in
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.”
“Yes sir.”
Piper saluted and left. Rolnir stared after him for a while before finally drooping his head and letting go of the cold breath he’d been holding.
SEVEN
The Plight of Lord Argis
Armed guards patrolled the streets of Chadra around the clock since Harnin One Eye assumed control of the kingdom. His reach went deep, but loosened the further away from the capital the kingdom stretched. Yet for all his show of force, Harnin lacked complete control of Chadra. Argis’s rebellion was much stronger than he originally believed. The attack on the armory at the docks showed him how wrong he’d been. The rebellion was stronger than he’d anticipated, forcing him to adjust his initial plans. What he’d intended to be brutally quick and efficient denigrated into a series of hit-and-miss attacks ranging throughout the city and down to Stouds on the coast.
Every day the rebellion continued meant another day closer to the mountain passes clearing. Harnin dreaded the Wolfsreik’s return, knowing it would mean the end of all of his grand schemes. Not that he was helpless. His agents sent word to the rest of the northern kingdoms for the best assassins. Many declined, citing regicide as going a step too far, but enough were eager to make their names. Their combined guile should prove more than enough to deal with Badron. Or so Harnin hoped.
“Another three attacks last night,” Jarrik reported, throwing a stack of parchments to the aged oak table.
Harnin didn’t bother looking down. His gaze remained fixed on the rising sun. Sparkling rays of golden light ripped through the veil of darkness. Once, such a sight would have inspired him, but now he felt hollow. Darkness proved more comfortable. He came to despise what the daylight represented, the purity of the light becoming offensive.
“How many casualties?” he asked without taking his eyes off the diminishing night.
Jarrik passed a wary glance to his side, to Inion. “Too many by all reports. Six dead and thirteen more injured. We can’t keep sustaining such loses.”
Harnin wasn’t concerned. “How many rebels?”
Young and thickly muscled, Skaning folded his arms over his chest and spat. “Two.”
Finally Harnin turned. “Two what?”
“Two dead. That’s it. No wounded, no blood trails.”
“We are losing this war,” Inion added.
Harnin rose much too swiftly, sweeping the clay jar from the table. It crashed into the wall, stale beer splashing. “There is no room for seditious thoughts in my kingdom, Inion. Another word and I’ll have your head.”
Inion swallowed hard. Another time and he might have accepted the challenge but a dark power lingered around Harnin, making it near impossible to harm him. Inion had seen it once. The manifestation of evil lurking just over Harnin’s shadow. It disappeared quickly, as if letting Inion know it was there to dissuade the thought of striking out.
Skaning slammed a meaty fist into the table. “Damn it, Harnin, he speaks the truth. We are losing Men daily without any notion of the rebels’ losses. Our militias aren’t recruiting the numbers needed to sustain this conflict.”
“Conscript more!” Harnin raged.
“Most of the population is sympathetic to the rebellion. They see the bodies hanging from the streets. The way our soldiers patrol Chadra with iron authority.”
“I declared martial law for a reason,” Harnin replied. “Keep the people in
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