Warlord by Tasha Temple Read Free Book Online Page A

absently, resting his hide-clad arm on the table, his black eyes contemplative. A white wolf skin rested on his shoulders, its bared teeth thrown back over his neck.
    The messenger straightened a bit, his breath returning. He adjusted his worn cloak over his shoulders. “My lord, it is a great number. Perhaps we should retreat. Face the General another day.”
    Arystan’s eyes flashed as his fist came down hard on the table, slamming it with such force that the heavy wood jerked from the ground. The man cowered, trying to sink back from his leader whose lips were now curled in a terrible snarl.
    “My lord, I meant no disrespect –” the man whimpered.
    “You are not my advisor, Kanar. You would do well to get out of my sight.” A look of intense relief crossed Kanar’s face as he bowed repeatedly, backing up until he could safely run back into the camp.
    “Tebur! Sabalak! Attend me! Now!” Arystan’s voice rang out strongly.
    Within minutes, a man very similar to Arystan, except of slighter build and having a thick goatee took a seat on the bench across from Arystan at the same table. He wore a leopard skin cloak which was drawn forward over his head, the teeth of the animal grazing his black hair. A second larger, stout man joined him on the bench. He had a thick, wiry beard, a full black mustache and wore a heavy bearskin cloak which was draped back over his shoulders.
    Arystan leaned back, looking over both of his chieftains, saying nothing as a thin man in tattered robes brought over two additional cups, filled them with tea and re-filled Arystan’s cup.
    Arystan reached down and took a sip of the steaming beverage. The thinner man, Tebur, wrapped his hands around his cup. Sabalak waited for Arystan to speak.
    “General Bayuan brings eighteen thousand men to greet us. They make camp across the river,” Arystan said simply.
     
    The chieftains considered this information.
    “We have only six thousand. They outnumber us three to one,” said Sabalak gruffly, shifting his bulk on the bench.
    “Yes, it is more than we had thought,” said Arystan thoughtfully. “But we will proceed with the original plan.”
    “Do you think it wise, my lord?” asked Tebur. “Perhaps we could engage them some other time when the odds are more in our favor.”
    “Bayuan has the aid of the evil ones. His successes are unnatural, his victories immoral.
    We have not meaningfully touched his army since the ambush of his cavalry in the mountain pass. He annihilates entire villages unscathed, sparing no one. He must be stopped and he shall be stopped now,” replied Arystan.
    “We are all willing to fight him to the death,” said Sabalak. “But it is a great display of force his army makes. It impresses the minds of our men, causing them not to question their loyalty, but their chances.”
    “It is more than their chances our men will question if we do not kill him. It is their freedom and the lives of their families. This is the last battle – his last battle. I sense it,”
    said Arystan.
    Tebur looked across at Sabalak and then back at Arystan. “We are with you, Arystan.
    Now and always.” Sabalak nodded.
    Arystan considered for a moment and then said, “See that there are no fires lit tonight.
    And no sounds. Have campfires set high on the hill behind us. Bunch the fires together to present the impression of a small encampment. Let General Bayuan think our position farther from the river and our numbers smaller. Tebur, is everything in position at the river?”
    “Yes, my lord.”
    “Good. Take two hundred men and fifty archers upriver at dusk and complete the work.
    Stay the night. Release the archers on my signal in the morning. Sabalak, how many horse have we?”
    “Most of our numbers are horse, my lord. We have five thousand.”
    Arystan’s black eyes were distant, but focused. “We need three thousand on this side to press our advantage and present a show of strength. We will keep the remaining foot