The Immortal Mystic (Book 5) by Sam Ferguson Read Free Book Online Page A

addition to our numbers.” He cast a glance out around the room. He then moved his eyes back to Gerarn. “So, have you heard the casualty report? Are all of your warriors dead then?”
    “Only the warriors you ordered for me to hold in reserve remain. All others died on the field today. Yet, if you command it, I will lead the remnant of my clan to battle even now.”
    Maernok held up a hand. “That isn’t necessary.” He looked across the table to Serndar.
    The orc stepped forward. “My captains held the field, but their warriors fled.” He stood rigid, eyes looking beyond Maernok, rather than at him, chin out and chest puffed up. “After the goargs were defeated, and the trebuchets destroyed, their faith broke. The dragon was too much for them.”
    “I cannot abide cowards,” Maernok said solemnly. “Hammenfein does not reward the weak.”
    Serndar nodded. He pulled a curved dagger from his belt and laid it upon the table. “If it pleases you, allow me to remove my shame.”
    “Your warriors should have remained on the field until they heard the sound for retreat. Instead, they broke rank and ran like dogs!” Maernok slammed his fist on the table. One of the lamps teetered over the edge and shattered on the stone floor of the cave. The candle rolled onto the stone and the flame died.
    “To retreat without permission is to shame us all,” Gulgarin put in as he stepped up to the table. He crossed his arms, proudly displaying his wrist bracers with the engraved image of a horse trampling a snake. “I say he is shamed before this council.”
    Gerarn bristled at Gulgarin’s words. His eyes fixed on the bracers and he spat upon the ground. “I say there is no shame. Serndar did not lead those warriors. He was here, with us. His captains held firm until they died honorably, with sword in hand. The only shame lies with the cowards who fled. I say let Hammenfein deal with them when the time comes.
    Serndar removed his tunic and grabbed the dagger. He placed the tip into the side of his belly, a few inches above his hip. “Maernok, the vote is tied. There are four orc clans here. As I am the one with the shame, I cannot vote. The decision rests with you.”
    Maernok looked to the dagger and let the heat of his anger burn within his mind. Under normal circumstances, perhaps he would side with Gulgarin. However, this was not a simple battle. This was his key to get at the necromancer. Defeating Ten Forts would release him from his debt, and he could finally slip his blade through that worm’s neck and spill his sickly, twisted blood upon the rocks.
    As if on cue, Gilifan strode into the chamber. “I heard there was a dragon,” he said flatly. “Pity you couldn’t destroy it.”
    Maernok snarled and his lip curled back over his upper teeth. He pushed off from the table and looked to Serndar. “Serndar, you are an honorable warrior. The fault lies not with you. Put the dagger away.”
    “Sorry, was I interrupting something?” Gilifan asked with feigned concern. The necromancer’s eyes fell with heightened interest upon the dagger.
    “Had Gulgarin told me of the necromancer’s involvement, we would not have come,” Gerarn said.
    Gulgarin spat on the ground. “I knew only of the conquest,” he lied. Of course he had known of Gilifan’s involvement. He and the necromancer had been planning this very assault on Ten Forts for some time. Gulgarin had even been communicating with young Eddin Finorel. The deal was simple. Gilifan wanted to weaken the Middle Kingdom and, as far as Gulgarin knew, rule over Drakei Glazei. In return, Gulgarin was to get access to the lost orcish lands, which would then enable him to position himself as a new high king, a true conqueror the likes of which had not been seen among the orcish tribes since they were pushed south of Ten Forts. Still, if any knew of his involvement with a wizard, no orcs would follow him into battle. There was only one orc that could request such a thing,