Mageborn The Line of Illeniel by Michael Manning (interesting novels to read .txt) 📕

Tirion Illeniel was the founder of your line, the man who raised the Elentir Mountains. The man who destroyed my people and who set me on the path that has led me now to you, his great grandson many times removed. Did you think you descended from some noble line? The man was a murderer a thousand times over, he slew almost as many of his own people as he did mine. Genocide is a crime that does not go unpunished.”

“Why tell me this?” I asked.

His eyes lit with joy for a moment. “To remove one final delusion. You think yourself a hero? You are no better than a common thug. You think you fight to save innocent lives? You do nothing but take them. You think me a mad god of a forgotten age? You are right, but I have fought for a thousand years and more to avenge the murder of my people. Your revered ancestor destroyed the truce that existed between the She’har and humanity for generations. He murdered them for nothing more than pride. I tell you this so that you will know you are no better than he was; so that in the end, when despair has overcome you, you will know that you fight for nothing, and after you have passed I will continue my war until every member of your worthless race is gone.”

My face went pale as he spoke, his words hammering into me, showing me the folly of my dreams. I couldn’t accept the truth of what he said, for doing so would have destroyed me. I struggled to find a logical response but I came up empty. I was saved from doing so when Penelope’s sword lashed out, seeming to come from nowhere. Its magically enhanced edge went through the emissary’s shield as if it didn’t exist and seconds later his head fell to the floor, still leering at us. Dorian and I stared at her in shock.

Penny stared boldly back. “He talked too much,” she said and began cleaning her blade with the dead man’s robe.

Her nonchalance broke the darkness that had gripped my heart and I began to laugh. Dorian didn’t see the humor though. “The man was here under a white flag! You can’t... you can’t do that!”

Penelope smiled at him. “You’re just jealous that I thought of it first,” she replied. A knock came at the door before Dorian could reply. I rose and answered it to avoid thinking too deeply about what the emissary had just said.

Marc stood at the entrance, looking like a servant, a tray with food and several mugs of ale in his hands. “I thought you might want to offer our guest something...,” he began, looking over my shoulder. It was obvious he was merely curious since I had left him out of the meeting. His eyes grew round when he spotted the headless corpse on the floor.

“Our ‘guest’ isn’t feeling well,” I told him flatly. “But since you’re inclined to play the servant perhaps you would be so kind as to clean this mess up.” I gestured at the corpse and then eased past him. Penny came up and took one of the mugs of ale.

“Oh that’s very kind of you Marcus,” she said and followed me down the hall.

He stared after us for a moment before returning to the kitchen with his tray, leaving Dorian standing alone in the great hall. Dorian gave the dead man’s body a steady look. “Well damn,” he said to himself.

***

A few hours later I stood in the castle yard watching Cyhan’s group returning. He reined his horse in beside me and looked down. “You did your work well,” he complimented me. It wasn’t the sort of praise I relished.

“How did it look out there?” I asked.

“At a guess they lost almost eight of every ten of their men. Your magic was most effective. We searched the road for survivors but most were dead before we found them,” he told me.

“Were you able to ride all the way to Arundel?”

“No, there were a few groups of cavalry patrolling, we were forced to return or face a pitched battle. They still outnumber us by a considerable margin,” he informed me. “From what I could see they are reforming in the valley, much as we had hoped.”

I remembered what Mal’goroth had told me and winced inwardly. I couldn’t know how much of what he had told me was true, but the knowledge made my task even harder. “How soon before they’re able to field an effective force?”

Cyhan’s brow furrowed in thought, “It should take them a week at least. Their army is burdened by a large number of wounded. They’ll have to reorganize, sending those unable to fight back to Gododdin. Some of the lightly injured will be kept, if they can fight within a few days.”

“I’m surprised they still have the stomach to fight.”

“Whatever Vendraccus is using to motivate them is highly effective. Any normal army would have routed after today,” Cyhan remarked before leading his horse toward the stables.

I watched him go. Tonight then, I thought. I couldn’t afford to let them reorganize. I went looking for Dorian.

“More bodies for me to dispose of?” he asked me sarcastically when I found him. He was inspecting a group of warriors preparing for the next patrol mission.

Despite my dark mood I chuckled a bit at that. “Not this time, although there are plenty out there that need your expertise,” I gestured at the gate and the road that led toward the valley. “I need to know how many men we have left. I’m planning to destroy the dam tonight, so we’ll want to prepare for a sortie in the morning.”

“Seven hundred and twelve,” he answered promptly. I was surprised at his exact count, but then on second thought I shouldn’t have been. Dorian had always been meticulous, especially when he was worried, which was most of the time. “I’ll have them ready at dawn,”