by Candy Rae
CHAPTER 30 (The Southern Continent)
Aoalvaldr the Larg lay on the rocky beach enjoying the soft warmth of the noontime sun. In the distance he could see the misty haze that was the island chain, gateway to the rtathlians of the Lind, the bare crags of the larger islands reaching skywards through the clouds.
He began to lick clean his injured paw. The wound was almost healed now and it would not be long before he would be able to run and hunt with what remained of his kohort.
His thoughts were dark, dark as night. The name Aoalvaldr was anathema throughout the length and breadth of Largdom. This disgrace he had expected, in fact, he knew he was lucky to escape the wrath of his superiors alive after such a monumental disaster. To Aoalvaldr’s surprise the Largan, the pre-eminent Larg, had decreed that Aoalvaldr was too useful to kill, hence this sentence of exile to the coastlands with orders to watch and learn all he could about the humans who had arrived so unexpectedly on their planet and turned their lives up-paw-down.
Aoalvaldr’s thoughts were dark and ranged this way and that over the events of the last moon. How did the Lind and these humans manage to defeat me and my army, the pride of Larg? He had been winning the battle; he knew he had, his flanking manoeuvre a masterstroke. The kohorts should have swept round and through the Lind right wing like a floodtide, sweeping away all in their path.
But it hadn’t happened that way.
The Lindars had responded with a floodtide of their own, descending from the hills in an unstoppable and if he thought about it, uniform mass, led by these self-same humans riding his mortal enemies. They wielded the sharp, lethal and evil implements the men of Murdoch called swords and had carved a swathe of death as they had methodically destroyed his army’s will to fight.
It was their fault the kohorts had broken.
Aoalvaldr’s entire awareness became filled with an implacable determination and hatred. He would destroy these riders, their Lind and all they held dear, even if it took him the rest of his life.
His mouth slavered with anticipation. Saliva drooled out of his mouth and landed on the sand.
He vowed revenge.
When the time was right he would return, his ambitions would be fulfilled, he would become the hero of Larg, exalted above all others. He could still become Largan.
Aoalvaldr stood up, his mealy face pointing north, his teeth showing white in a ferocious snarl.
“I will return,” he growled. “Enjoy life while you can. I will return to destroy you all.”
Then he turned away from the shoreline and limped towards his lonely daga. After a while he slept, his dreams filled with vengeance and the ultimate annihilation of the Vada of Lind.
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