B5 Chapter 74 – Cloud of Death

Merigold was never happy when she was summoned by General Rasmus Crow. A competent and incorruptible soldier of the Empire he might be, and she didn’t believe he held any ill will towards her, regardless of what might be happening in the imperial court, but he was still a daunting presence. For someone who had spent her life in the capital, in schools and academies, and then working within the administration bureau, the gold ranked General was an intimidating figure, a polished fighting man who’d spent years in the rifts of the central province.

She simply wasn’t used to dealing with people like him. Sometimes she felt like the air around the man was sharp enough to cut herself on. When he and Honoured Stennis were in the same room, she worried the motion of sneezing would be enough to slit her throat.

After the threats and outright assassination attempts that had been levelled at her with increasing frequency the further they got from the central province, Honoured Stennis had been loath to be far from her for any length of time, which meant the two men had spent more and more time in close proximity.

Any hope that it might help to ease the tension between the two had been quickly dashed. If anything, it was getting worse.

As expected, Honoured Stennis was waiting outside the general’s tent when she arrived. As a platinum-ranked Imperial Guard, even the vaunted Golden Legion were intimidated by his presence, though the two soldiers standing watch at the tent’s entrance did their best not to show it.

“Lady Herimar,” he said, with a slight bow of his head.

“Honoured Stennis,” she replied, stifling a sigh as she bowed in return.

Her mess of red hair was getting longer and spilled over her eyes as she bowed. Normally she kept it cut short, but she was loath to ask someone for a trim out in the field. The only person she trusted to come close to her with a sharp implement was likely Stennis, and the thought of asking an attendant of the Emperor for a haircut was out of the question!

“I will attend with you,” he said, gesturing for her to lead the way.

“Oh. How nice.”

As always, the interior of the general’s tent was as austere as the man himself. They’d only pitched camp an hour ago after a full day of marching, yet everything inside was already in its perfect place.

Thankfully, Merigold was allowed to ride a horse, a hateful creature named Blackdawn that constantly tried to bite her, but at least her legs were spared.

“Lady Herimar,” the General greeted her, eyes hard and sharp. “Honoured Stennis.”

“General.”

“General Crow. Have I been brought to ruin the inner lining of my garment once again?”

That drew a slight, emphasis on slight, smile from the General. Both of them were keenly aware of the imperial mandate she had hidden within the lining of her coat, and she had been forced to extract it many times recently, as those at the capital grew desperate to derail the expedition. They must suspect, by now, just who it was that stood in their way, but it didn’t seem to stop them from trying.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” the General stated evenly. “I wanted to speak with you regarding a matter my scouts reported to me earlier.”

“They’ve found something?”

They had drawn close to the edge of the western province, following the Blue river. She hadn’t expected they would find any sign of the rebellion until they had crossed the mountain. Was it possible some of them had begun to return and resettle the west?

“A town shrouded in darkness.”

Merigold raised her brows, then tilted her head. Was that some sort of code?

“The Necromancer,” General Crow clarified. “The scouts believe he has made a home for himself in Foxbridge.”

“That’s where he was born and raised,” Merigold muttered, frowning. “But why?”

Why would Tyron Steelarm come here and make a stand by himself while the rest of the rebellion stayed in Granin? It didn’t make sense. Suddenly she felt certain a horde of thousands of Slayers was closing around them.

“Has there been any sign of others?” she asked.

“No,” the General replied. “The scouts made a wide sweep around the town and saw nothing except a cloud of magickal darkness shrouding Foxbridge itself.”

“Are we sure he’s in there?”

“Not completely. We will have to use other means to see if he is there for certain. I thought it best to advise you before we took further steps.”

After setting up camp, the sun had already begun to sink low over the horizon, dying the ground a brilliant orange and red. Still, she wanted to see it for herself.

“Show me,” she said, steeling her nerves. “How far away is Foxbridge?”

“Ten kilometres as the crow flies,” the General said with a straight face. “My men use that joke all the time,” he admitted with a slight shrug. “I’ll detail a guard of a hundred men to escort you. We can’t be too careful.”

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“Make it ten,” Honoured Stennis said. “I will accompany Lady Herimar myself. More men will increase the danger, not diminish it.”

General Crow grimaced, twisting his normally dignified features. As much as he hated having the honour of his troops impugned, he knew that many were compromised. Technically, he couldn’t even accuse them of disloyalty, as they were following semi-legal commands issued by the Imperial Court. How were the rank and file supposed to know the difference between helping the Empire and Imperial infighting?

“That’s fine. I will be here consulting with my officers on our next steps.”

Merigold nodded, and turned to leave, Stennis on her heel at all times. It didn’t take long to get Blackdawn saddled again, though the vicious beast was extra grumpy after being dragged away from its hay and rest. Riding directly toward the setting sun was never a good idea, though it provided a spectacular view as it sank below the horizon marked by the indomitable Barrier Mountains.

As she rode, she couldn’t help but think of Tyron Steelarm. She knew so much about him, despite having never met the man. Hours, days, nights spent poring over the documentation, trying to hunt down every drop of data within the Imperial records related to him and his family, had been an enormous chore.

His parents, Magnin and Beory Steelarm, were everywhere in the records. As the sole Imperial-approved platinum rank Slayers within the Western Province, they had been subject to strenuous restrictions, regulations and testing.

As for their son, there was exceptionally little. Once he’d turned eighteen and Awakened, the man had vanished into the mist, so every piece of information about his life afterwards had to be inferred from other sources. She couldn’t help but wonder how he felt, standing in the ruins of his former hometown. Did he feel responsible? Angry? Frustrated?

She had to imagine there was some level of fear. No matter how strong he had grown, there was little chance he would be able to face five thousand soldiers from the Golden Legion. Naught but death awaited him now.