Page 23 of Of Empires and Dust

“Just as we must be one as a council and a people, we must also be one in the defence of our new home. Swearing oaths to each other in this hall does nothing for us on the field of battle – as sweet a sentiment as it is.”

“Go on.” Lanan gestured for Erdhardt to continue.

“As their first act, I would ask the new council to choose a commander for Salme’s – or whatever we’re calling this place – combined forces. We are too scattered. There are a hundred voices on the battlefield, each yelling a different command, each trying to save a different thing. The men and women of Pirn fight in one place while those of Talin fight in another. The leaders from Salme insist on one plan without thinking of its impact on another. Tonight, we came moments from defeat because we were too slow to react to the breach in the wall. We need a single strategy, a single focus, a single voice.”

“And do you have any suggestions for this ‘commander’?” The representative from Milltown had barely spoken through the entire meeting, but now he stood with his arms folded, one hand scratching at his thick beard. “Let me guess, Erdhardt, yourself? Fellhammer, the defender of Salme.”

A smile spread across Erdhardt’s lips as he shook his head. “I can swing a hammer, but I know nothing about true warfare. No, I suggest Dahlen Virandr.”

Dahlen straightened, his eyes wide as he realised the entire hall was now staring at him. Nimara turned in her chair, her smile so wide it almost touched her ears.

“Have you lost your mind, Erdhardt?” Yarik Tumber moved his stare from Dahlen to Erdhardt. “You would suggest we trust the defence of our home, of our families, to a foreigner? An outsider? To someone who shares no blood with these lands?”

“I would suggest, Yarik, that we trust the defence of our home to a man who understands battle. Dahlen and those with him from Belduar are warriors. Warfare is a craft they have dedicated their lives to. What are the men and women of Ölm? Farmers, fishers, woodsmen? Putting weapons in our hands does not make us warriors in the same way that putting a chicken on a horse does not make it a rider. Despite not ‘sharing blood with these lands’, Dahlen Virandr and the Belduarans have fought at our gates every night the Uraks have attacked. They have shown their loyalty, painted it in the blood they have shed.”

Yarik stared open-mouthed at Erdhardt. The look on the man’s face mirrored how Dahlen felt. This had been the last thing he’d expected.

“Does anyone have an alternative candidate?” Lanan asked, looking about the room.

Dahlen looked to Nimara, but the dwarf shook her head, mouthing the word ‘you’.

He turned his attention to Thannon and Camwyn, but they both pulled closed fists to their chests and inclined their heads.

“You pulled us through Durakdur, my lord,” Thannon said. “You’ll pull us through this.”

A few heads turned towards the Lorians, but none dared say anything. To suggest a Lorian soldier take command of Salme’s defences would have started another argument, one that Dahlen was certain would have ended in more corpses.

In the end, it was Kara Thain who spoke. “I second Dahlen Virandr. It was he and his warriors who held the breach tonight when others broke. His shouts that rallied us.” The woman looked to Dahlen and inclined her head. “I will follow you.”

“As will I,” came another voice from amidst the crowd.

A few more mumbles of agreement sounded, and Lanan raised her hand.

“Are there any who object?” She looked at Benem, who sat slumped in his chair, hand clasped to the side of his bloodied head. The man simply glowered and gave a grunt of acquiescence.

“Well then, Dahlen Virandr, do you accept the mantle of Salme’s protector?”

Dahlen had no idea what to say. He was a warrior, true, but he was not a leader of men. He’d never been a leader of anything in his entire life. All he’d ever done was follow and and carry out his father’s commands. The only things he knew about leading he’d learned from Aeson. And the core of it was to not ask anyone to do something you wouldn’t do yourself and to never ask anyone to bleed for you if you are not willing to bleed for them.

Camwyn elbowed Dahlen sharply in the back, then whispered, “If you’re going to answer them, Lord Virandr, I suggest saying yes, otherwise we’ll be fighting under the command of a sheep shearer.”

Dahlen drew a long breath, then nodded slowly. “I accept.”

“Well then,” Erdhardt said, wrapping his fingers around the pommel of his hammer. “Can I go to bed?”

Chapter 6

A Ray of Light

6thDay of the Blood Moon

Somewhere in the Dwarven Freehold of Lodhar – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom

Kira satwith her back against the wall of the cell, her hand pressed to her ribs, her lungs burning with each breath. She swallowed, tasting the tang of iron on her tongue.

It had only been a matter of days since Hoffnar had revealed himself and butchered Elenya and Lakar. She wasn’t sure how many. Hoffnar’s guards hadn’t allowed her so much as a drop of sleep. As soon as her eyes were shut, the cell door would swing open and pain would follow.

She still couldn’t wrap her mind around what had happened. Elenya was dead. There had once been a time when Kira had thought that dwarf unkillable. And yet now the memory of the axe splitting her old friend’s face in two haunted her everywaking moment. She could still hear the sound of Elenya’s teeth snapping, feel the terror twisting in her chest.

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