Ruein: Fires of Haraden: Action/Adventure Necromancy Series (Books of Ruein Book 2) by G.O. Turner (interesting books to read in english txt) 📕

view as Leafar mounted the forward bench. He sounded a piercing whistle and gave the bell a clang. The carriage lurched, rolling out.

Twigs scrambled for a perch upon the roof. On his toes for an unobstructed view, the gnome let out a gasp. “Oh, my.”

Crossing the threshold, the acrid tang fell away to gentler, crisper air. Absent were the howling winds from when they’d entered. Gone the onslaught of white. In its stead, fleeting gentle snows lazed about in the air. The sky, still an overcast gray, swirled above their heads. To the horizon, the flakes flitting about began to vanish. They left only a dusting on green forests extending out as far as the eye could see.

This space was unseasonable. It contrasted a burgeoning spring ahead against the dead of winter behind.

However, what most caught Ruein’s eye was the singular mountain rising in the distance.

Gray overcast swirled above, pivoting, rotating around. In its center—the bluest of open sky. Ruein drifted from that opening, falling back upon the mountain under. Its rise was sharp, striated with crags. Its top not ending in a peak but a plateau. No snow lay anywhere on its surface. Instead, orange shimmered from that unseen top.

Ruein looked back into the tunnel. The heated glow from the pools in its gulleys—identical. She regarded the mountain’s plateau again. The same raw heat not only emanated from within there but also reflected off the island above it.

Floating between mountain caldera and open sky, was a massive construction. More than a fortress, this was a brass citadel. Built upon similar stone of the mountain itself, it was as if uncapped and left to hover.

Were Ruein to have a need, this would’ve been breathtaking.

Broadening her view to the leagues between, glowing orbs dotted the lands. Miniature daylights held above the treetops. After a quick assessment, Ruein noted their placement. Above crops—their farmlands.

“Thorn and thistle,” Twigs spoke with reverence. “Wasn’t sure what to expect. Wasn’t this.”

The mesmerizing view stole at Ruein’s attention. As she swiveled, taking in the expanse, a carriage jolt caused her to catch herself and she gazed down into the court they approached.

High cinder walls rose around them. Archways of overworked stone partitioned into quarters. There was only one path, and it descended into a fortified keep.

A battalion of Elite stood in preparation to receive.

13

As if a stone cliff rising, Ruein’s view of that wondrous realm sheared away to the keep’s inner walls. The carriage rolled off the incline and pivoted into a wide arc of the yard.

The wary gazes of over fifty ebon-skinned half-orcs followed them as the carriage circled. While most orcish warriors she’d experienced had a raucous untethered demeanor, these Elite exhibited none of that. Their expressions were stern, their stances uniform. Yet writhing underneath, taut muscles yearned to be unleashed. It was on their faces. Springs coiled to snap. After Leafar’s last run, these warriors had a whetted appetite. They were hungry for more.

Rounding on the courtyard, the carriage rolled to a stop on its own tail. Leaving their winter bundles behind, the Nurskers dismounted and milled into the center.

Careful to keep her cloak tight, Ruein climbed down to join Liv, Ceer, and Twigs.

Liv exhaled. “It’s a bit nippy. But damn, nothing like the icebox back there.”

“Not down here.” Twigs pressed his hand to the damp earth. “Ground is warm. Explains a good deal. Summer beneath beats back the winter above. Spring for all those in between.”

Leafar was already in talks with a stocky, ash-gray duergar. The Elite’s captain? The dwarf-height, black leather armored commander looked down upon Leafar. His wicked smile tugged at his long, white mustache as much as his hand did.

Past the throng of caravaneers, Ruein caught snippets exchanged in undercommon. Leafar produced a fluted cap from his jacket and passed it along to the captain.

Of course. He was greasing the wheels, smoothing things.

The duergar spun the cap, examining it. Then he flipped it around and snugged it to his head in a lopsided backward fashion. He rounded on his troops and raised hands.

Like waters parting, the Elite separated, opening their ranks toward the next court’s archway.

Leafar turned and strode through the Nurskers back to the carriage. He called ahead, “Welcome to Haraden.”

Liv took in the berm and the massive stone door at the top. “Doesn’t seem very defensible, conceding the high ground to entrants. Damn baka if you ask me. Most fortresses would prefer that for themselves.”

“Invaders? That be a lark.” Leafar smirked up from Liv’s feet. “Alright. Disregarding the whole Wandering White, you think that was some mountain tunnel? That, Lightbringer, was a blast furnace. Nothing passes through there that they don’t permit. Haraden doesn’t give two dumps about an invasion.”

He gauged the surrounding Elite, then eyed Ceer and Twigs, before settling sharply on Liv. “—however, what they do crap all over is the uninvited. Let’s not have you duerpoo’d. Hold back with me. We’ll go after the haul is squared.”

The fingers on Liv’s gauntlet tightened.

Ruein gauged her sister. Leagues traversed through the white had clearly not diminished her temper. We’re so disadvantaged. Don’t make things any—Ruein reached out just as Liv backed away.

With a huff, Liv returned to the carriage.

Nurskers funneled through the arch, a slow progression into the next yard. Leafar stepped forward and motioned for them to follow. While Ceer and Twigs complied, Ruein held back. She wasn’t about to leave her sister. She approached the carriage just as Liv reappeared with her shield, reseating it upon her back.

As the two caught up with Leafar, a cluster of full-orcs began to assemble within their wagon ring. These were not warriors. The dull look on their faces, the thickness of build—these orcs were the labor. They began to inventory the haul.

Ruein made her way into the next courtyard. Her head craned to the caravan as the Elite began moving about, peering intently at every wagon facet.

Liv gripped her arm, swinging her attention front. Across the next yard, caravaneers presented themselves in rows before