Read Online The Temple of Heart and Bone by S.K. Evren - Free Book Online Page B

he bought steel to forge weapons for his own
people. His Imperial contacts, more interested in lining their strong rooms
with gold than what their “friend” intended to do with the steel, were happy to
sell to him.
    At first, Mushel turned his tribe
against his neighbors in what he called a “holy war.” Elements inside the
Empire were delighted at the discord he was causing. Their delight, however,
was short lived. The young chieftain overcame and assimilated tribe after
tribe. Within ten years, he had built up a significant power base. Within those
ten years, he had also developed his own sense of power. Elevated by victory
after victory, the conquered tribes began to see him as something more than
human. Some even went so far as to declare Mushel a god, himself. Intoxicated
with his own power, Mushel began to demand tribute from the Empire.
    The Empire had neglected its
forces on the Eastern Frontier. Mushel’s campaigns had created a decade of
peace on that border, and the armies of the eastern Empire had become lax, even
indolent. The Empire offered Mushel tribute, realizing it was no longer in a
position to defend itself against him. Though they began to strengthen their
defenses, the tribute to Mushel had elevated him further, both in his own mind,
and in the minds of his peoples. Tales of the riches of the Empire, of the
treasures of material and technology inflamed his people, accustomed to a
decade of victory and looting. Mushel, himself, demanded more—and more
outrageous—tributes from the Empire. Secretly, he hoped to force them into
battle. The Empire, however, continued to pay, reinforcing the beliefs of
Mushel and his army that the Empire was weak.
    Finally, Mushel attacked. His
raids were tentative at first, testing the defense and resolve of the Empire.
Meeting little to no resistance, his forces made a major thrust across the
border, crushing everything in sight. Murder, looting, assault, and pillage followed
in his smoking footsteps. Vital crops were seized by his army to feed their
depredations into the Empire. Granaries once covered in artwork, crumbled into
smoking, charred ruins. Citizens of the Empire, those who were fit to work, or
pleasing to the eye, were taken into captivity. Others, the old or infirm, the
weak or disfigured, were slaughtered wholesale.
    Though it had taken time, time
for the Empire to awaken, and time for its forces to be transported from other
areas, Mushel’s advance was eventually stopped. Infuriated by the destruction
they had seen, the armies of the Empire fought like none Mushel and his bandits
had faced. Mushel himself fell as his forces scrambled to retreat. It was said
that Nekatethesis had abandoned Mushel, angered by his apostasy. The loss of
their seemingly invincible leader turned the retreat into a rout, and the
Empire restored order once again to the eastern border.
    The damage, however, was done.
Crops which had been vital to feeding the vast Empire were lost, and with them
the very citizens who had tended them. The weakening of defenses on other
borders, which had allowed the Empire to repel Mushel, encouraged others to
attack those fronts. Like a stricken beast, the Empire struggled to keep the
agents of her demise at bay. As the years passed, the mighty roar became a
wracking cough. The armies of the Eastern tribes, reformed and organized under
a stream of new leaders, returned to challenge the very existence of the
Empire.
    The Emperor, Doloroth XVI,
realized the gravity of the situation. Ordering the preparation of special
vaults of knowledge and materiel, Doloroth commanded certain of his agents to
hide themselves from the coming storm. The old man clearly remembered stoically
accepting his orders from the Emperor as tears rolled down both their cheeks.
Doloroth, once a strong and vibrant man, had become gaunt and sickly, seeming
to reflect the ills of the Empire itself. The Emperor had been close to the old
mage, who had been his tutor in youth. The