Seven Forges
Page 32
“Yes, I know. What is it your father seeks?”
“Only to inform Your Majesty that the Guntha seem to have been telling the truth.”
Nachia frowned. “What truth is that?”
“On the horizon, near where Guntha used to be and where the great island of fire now burns, many people have now seen ships. Great black ships, Majesty, and they are headed for Roathes.”
Nachia frowned. “And where do these ships come from?”
“From the north and the west, Majesty. From the Blasted Lands.”
Merros frowned as well. The Sa’ba Taalor could not possibly have a navy as well, could they? He shook his head. Navies took time to build.
Of course, the people of the Seven Forges had been alone for a thousand years. They could have planned anything in that time.
He cast his eyes toward Desh Krohan, but the man’s cloak was on, his face lost in shadows and unreadable.
Damn. What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Three days without food, and he was running low on clean water too. Drask Silver Hand and his cohorts had abandoned him, and Andover Lashk walked slowly toward the distant fires of the Seven Forges. The winds had picked up a great deal and he was grateful for his fur-lined cloak and the scarf he’d now used to cover most of his face. He squinted through the grit trying to blind him and oriented himself on the Forges. He’d have turned back, would have tried for home, but he didn’t quite dare. There was a chance that Drask was waiting for him to do something like that. There was also a chance, no matter what the Sa’ba Taalor had said, that he would lose the gift of his iron hands if he tried to return to Fellein. He doubted that last, but faith was as new a concept for him as having artificial hands that could feel and could move at his command.
Faith takes time to cement itself in a wary heart.
The sun had set, or if it had not the clouds overhead were too thick to let the light shine down. Either way the world was mostly darkness and Andover found the light in the distance as attractive as a moth finds the glow of a lamp in the night. He walked faster whenever he let himself look up, as if he might somehow make his way to the Seven Forges magically shorten by increasing his speed.
There would be no rest. No stopping. He would prove himself to the people who demanded to know his worthiness, or he would die trying.
The air around him shifted and danced and he heard the sound of weeping coming from his left. A moment later laughter came from his right.
His skin crawled. There was an element of insanity to both sounds and he made himself stand still and truly listen.
The sounds came again from in front of him and from behind as well.
His hands reached instinctively and he pulled the hammer slung across his back into his hands. For one brief moment the air calmed itself and he could hear skittering noises as something in the darkness sought to properly gain purchase on the icy ground.
The darkness was almost complete but he could see shapes, far larger than he was as they moved along the edges of his vision.
His hands gripped the hammer the way he’d been taught.
Andover released a breath and drew back for a proper swing as something giggle-screamed and charged him from the right. Another something wept as it came from behind.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to everyone at Angry Robot for taking a chance on my first Fantasy novel. It's always a bit unsettling trying something new and they've been a pleasure from beginning to end to work with.
Thanks also to Maurice Broaddus for his invaluable help.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
James A Moore is the author of over twenty novels, including the critically acclaimed Fireworks, Under the Overtree, Blood Red, Deeper, the Serenity Falls trilogy (featuring his recurring anti-hero, Jonathan Crowley), and his most recent novel Blind Shadows. He has twice been nominated for the Bram Stoker Award and spent three years as an officer in the Horror Writers Association, first as Secretary and later as Vice President.
He cut his teeth in the industry writing for Marvel Comics and authoring over many role-playing supplements for White Wolf Games, including Berlin by Night, Land of 1,000,000 Dreams and The Get of Fenris tribe. He also penned the White Wolf novels Vampire: House of Secrets and Werewolf: Hellstorm.
He currently lives in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia.
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