In Harmony We Trust by Ryan Matthew Harker (chromebook ebook reader .TXT) 📕

get any hotter, and that when we reach the mountains it’ll be cooler.”
“That’s it?” Absinthe asked.
“Pray we don’t fry,” Sefu said and the green eyed woman sent her the usual glare. “You’ll have to do better than that honey. I’m becoming immune.”
Absinthe shook her head in exasperation and looked away saying, “Whatever.”
“She’s right,” Vohrmint said. Out of everyone in the mercenary camp the big veteran seemed to be the only one who remained mostly unaffected by the heat. He claimed that it was because of a tour he had done when he was younger in the private army of a satrap of the giant deserts of the eastern continent. “We all know who the enemy is.”
“Harmony,” Candlelite spoke up. The young man seemed to be faring worse than anyone in the scorching weather. His pale skin had quickly burned to the color of a lobster and though he was healing quickly he still had to be kept under a shade during daylight hours.
“Yes, Harmony,” Vohrmint said gently, sympathizing with the young man’s agony. “And he’s got no reason to let up until we’re all dead.”
“We are not going to die!” Jeshux suddenly roared jumping to his feet. The soldiers closest to him cast surprised glances in his direction but quickly looked away. “We’re not going to die,” he said quieter.
“It’s all right my friend. It’ll be all right.” McAriicoys had moved from his spot by the tree at his friend’s outburst and he laid his hand on Jeshux shoulder.
“Harmony won’t get away with this,” Jeshux told him and looked at McAriicoys with feverish eyes. Then he tore away from his friend’s reassuring hand and spinning wildly with his arms outstretched screamed at the heavens, “Do you hear me Harmony, you bastard? You’re not going to get away with this!”
Vohrmint grabbed Jeshux from behind, pinning his arms to his sides with his powerful grip.
McAriicoys slapped the struggling man in his face, stopping his futile attempts to escape Vohrmint’s grasp, and yelled in his face, “Jeshux! Get a hold of yourself! What the hell’s wrong with you?”
By this time the mercenaries had begun to gather around their raving commander, trying to figure out what was happening to him, concern mirrored in all of their eyes.
“What’s wrong Jeshux?” McAriicoys asked again.
Jeshux fixed his gaze to McAriicoys and said, “We’re not going to die.” and then he slumped in Vohrmint’s arms.

When Jeshux came to the first thing that he noticed was that it was much cooler, much, much cooler. He opened his eyes and saw snowflakes drifting down lazily through the air. He was laying down bundled in warm clothes and blankets. Everyone appeared to be camped for the evening, although it was not dark yet.
Absinthe knelt down beside him, a big smile on her face. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
Jeshux gave a half-hearted smile in return. “Thirsty,” he said through parched lips, his throat dry and his voice rusty.
The young woman rustled in a pack that was lying next to him. Producing a canteen she held it to his lips and let cool water trickle into his mouth. He sputtered a little but managed to get the liquid down.
“Better?” Absinthe asked.
“Yes,” Jeshux replied. “How long have I been out?”
“Four days,” she told him.
Looking incredulous Jeshux struggled to rise from his bedding.
“Hold your horses there,” Absinthe cautioned as she put a restraining hand on his shoulder and forced him to lie back down. “You’ve had a rough time and need your rest. McAriicoys has things well under control.”
Satisfied to hear that his second in command was taking care of business the mercenary did as he was told and closing his eyes for a moment he was soon back to sleep.
When Jeshux woke up again he felt a lot better. It had grown even colder and there was about eight inches of snow on the ground. It was completely dark this time. He stood up and rubbing his hands briskly together made his way over towards one of the many fires that were lit nearby.
Vohrmint, the first to see him coming, stood up quickly and said, “Sir! It’s good to see you up.”
“What happened?” Jeshux asked taking a seat next to McAriicoys and Max as Vohrmint took his own.
Max was drinking again and offered Jeshux his ever present flask. “It got colder’n a witch’s titties is wha’ happened,” the old man said a little drunk.
“Really?” Jeshux asked barely managing to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“Yep,” the old man confirmed.
McAriicoys smiled at the scientist’s drunken sincerity and told Jeshux, “You came down with a bad case of sun sickness. You became delirious and passed out. We thought you were a goner there for a moment.”
“Hmm,” Jeshux murmured and took another drink off of Max’s flask before handing it back to him. “And after that?”
“After that it just got hotter,” Vohrmint guffawed. “Damned temperature must have been over one sixty by sundown the next day. We hardly made any progress at all and ended up making camp after only ten miles.”
“Yes,” McAriicoys agreed. “And then, after that, as quickly as it started it began to cool off.”
“Cooled off fast,” Max interjected drunkenly.
“How long has it been since I collapsed?” Jeshux asked. “Last I remember Absinthe told me four days.”
It’s been another three since then,” Vohrmint told him.
Jeshux looked off into the darkness. “How far are we from the mountains?” he asked.
“About twenty miles, give or take,” McAriicoys said.
“And no sign of the rest of our troops?” Jeshux asked.
“As of yet none,” McAriicoys told him and Jeshux shook his head in disbelief.
“Ish fuk’n cold,” Max slurred.
“Yes it is, my friend,” Vohrmint slapped him heartily on the back. “How about you share some of that bottled fire of yours?”
“Gladly,” Max said handing him the flask.
“We made pretty good time once the weather started cooling off,” McAriicoys continued. “But we still had to go pretty slow because of your condition.”
“We’ve been pushing pretty hard the last three days though,” Vohrmint upended the flask and drained it. “We figure since you woke up you were out of the woods and could stand a little hard riding. All the same though, with the hard time we’ve been having a force twenty thousand strong is going to have it a lot harder.”
“Of course,” Jeshux said. “But we’re still a long ways off from getting to Zakeriah. We need to start moving faster now.”
“Agreed,” McAriicoys said. “But not just for the reasons you think. Even though it’s not dropping as fast as it rose the temperature is still falling steadily. If it keeps up at the rate that it has been I give it another two days before it reaches negative twenty degrees, and that’s without the wind chill.”
“Damnit,” Jeshux cursed. “And where are Candlelite and Absinthe?”
Max pointed off into the shadows where you could just make out a small hill slightly darker than its surroundings. “Over there,” he said and procured another flask from somewhere within his garments.
“They’ve been sleeping nestled up to each other for warmth for the last three nights,” Vohrmint said as he took Max’s bottle from him. “I think you’ve had enough of this my friend.”
The old scientist protested feebly but did not try to get the liquor back. “Well I’m goin’ t’ bed th’n,” he declared rising from the fire and stretching his arms and back. “G’night.”
“Good night,” everyone told him and he staggered off into the night.
The three soldiers stayed up a while longer with Vohrmint and Jeshux sharing Max’s whiskey. Finally McAriicoys stated his own need for sleep and when the alcohol was gone Vohrmint too, made his way to bed.
After sleeping for a week Jeshux found that he was not tired, despite the relaxing effect of the whiskey, and he stayed up thinking about the assault of the weather, among other things, until with only a few hours left until dawn he too made his way back to bed.

Twelve days from Gontiluna and the mercenary army found themselves staring at the looming crags of a great mountain range.
The temperature was now at negative fifty-five degrees and dropped to negative seventy degrees or less as the gusts of wind whipped the snow into thick flurries all around them. The visibility was down to almost zero and despite the monstrous size of the range in front of them they could hardly make out the mountains through the thickness of the snow.
Finding shelter in the lee of some rocks and trees the leaders of this arctic expedition took some time to contemplate the best course of action for crossing the great peaks. With the wind and snow howling it was already hard enough for the large group to stay together and the prospect of crossing the mountains in such numbers was a daunting proposition.
Over the flatlands the mercenaries had taken to stringing the horses together with ropes so as to lose no one in the whiteout but the prospect of attempting to climb even into the foothills in such a manner was not a pleasant idea. They had to contemplate a better alternative and all the while the weather worsened. The snow was well over two and a half feet deep and in some places it had drifted closer to four so leaving the animals strung together and trying to lead them into the hills on foot was out of the question. Everyone would be exhausted before they had gone a mile but if they stayed where they were then everyone would freeze to death. The situation definitely required some thought and they had better think fast.


“Sire, I don’t know how much more of this we can take,” Nefarious stated calmly as the palace walls stopped shaking and the faint sound of silt from ancient mortar hitting the ground was all you could hear.
Three days earlier Harmony had commenced bombardment of Dirsellia with his arcane energy canon. For three days straight, day and night, every hour on the hour, a massive burst of energy slammed into the shields that had been hastily erected to withstand the detonation of the arcane energy bomb. But those shields had not been fortified to hold against the steady pounding they were receiving and after already deflected the arcane energy bomb’s initial blast they were not going to be able to last much longer.
“Well what are you doing about it?” Zakeriah barked.
The King had hardly slept in four days and was looking half dead. Only one of his emissaries to the foreign provinces had made it back in time to enter the city before Harmony’s army had arrived and now, although the others had also responded and waited to lend their support, Harmony had them cut off and in hiding. None of them had even been able to sneak a messenger through the noose that the Dark Sorcerer had slipped around the capital and so Zakeriah had no way of knowing how many soldiers the lords of each of the provinces had been able to send. Magic was the only way he could attempt communication with his allies and the recent barrage from the arcane energy canon caused too much interference for his magicians to be very successful.
The emissary who had managed to slip in before Harmony’s arrival was back from the province of Hartlii and was the smallest of the five provinces that had been contacted. The Lord of Hartlii, Lord Seuriius, was a scrawny man who only stood about five feet nine inches but he was a staunch supporter of the throne and possessed of a lion’s share of courage.
Nefarious turned a whiter shade of pale at the