Child Of Storms (Volume 1) (64 page)

“Wrong,” Faxon said. “Wrong, wrong, wrong.”

Venzarian looked shocked.

“Dark One, I do not -”

“By Amundágor, General, can you be so ignorant of basic military matters?” Faxon said. “Look up at those mountains, General. We sit upon a flat plain surrounded by high mountains. The Guardians chose this place because it is a fertile valley. Indeed, the lands to our west are one of our most valued possessions. Even now, legions of our slaves farm those stretches, growing the food upon which our armies will feed as we begin this most glorious of campaigns. But this flat plain surround by mountains, it is all-too vulnerable to whomever might control those mountains. Had the guardians controlled the high mountains, they would still be here today.”

“We control the mountains, Dark One,” Venzarian interjected.

“Because
I
made sure of it. But the enemy might seize control of the mountains at any time. Our forces are dispersed and vulnerable. I don’t like these reports of this raiding party, either. Tell me, did your scouting parties report anything unusual about that party of probable deserters or scouts?”

“I, um, I included everything in my dispatch.”

“Yes I know. Tell me anything else you might recall.”

“I, uh, I don’t remember -”

Faxon grimaced. Venzarian was pious and loyal, and an excellent commander in the thick of battle, but the wizard was ever more convinced that he was a bumbling idiot otherwise.

“I
do
remember, General. I remember that the scouts noted that a few of the raiding party were...well, they were small.”

“Small? Yes, I remember that now. What of it? You yourself are -”

Venzarian stopped speaking abruptly.

“You need not censor yourself on that count, General. I am well-aware that I am not so large a man as yourself. The report suggests the presence of dwarves or even gnomes in this group. Does that not strike you as odd?”

“There are several dwarf domains nearby, Dark One. Perhaps a scouting party -”

“A scouting party, he says!” Faxon snapped. “Mixed in with humans? I think that highly unlikely, General. Do you not recall the reports from Llangellan and Barter’s Crossing of last week.”

Venzarian frowned.

“Let me remind you. Braemorgan was seen in the area, as was the renegade Jorn Ravenbane. Now there is this mysterious raiding party along the Old Guardian Road.”

“You think it might be Ravenbane? Or even Braemorgan?”

“I’m not sure,” Faxon said, noting the nervousness in the general’s vo
ice. He hid his own anxiety. “But I don’t want to take a chance. Triple – no, quadruple – the guard around the chest. Take personal command of security, as well. For the time being, it is your highest priority. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Holy One.”

“Double the patrols around the camp, too.”

“Shall I put a guard around the back way?”

“What?”

“The back entrance, um, off to the west through the catacombs. I could place a thousand men around it, if need be.”

Faxon smirked.

“No need for that, General,” he said. “Put up a token guard, if you must, but we need not concern ourselves over it. We both know w
hat dwells in the catacombs, don’t we? A thousand men are nothing in comparison. Even Braemorgan himself would meet his doom were he fool enough to chance that road.”

Here ends The Ravenbane Sage, Book One: Child of Storms.

The story continues with The Ravenbane Sage, Book Two: Son of Kaas.

About the Author

Alexander DePalma is a professional educator and an alumnus of Monmouth Univ
ersity in West Long Branch, NJ where he studied History, English, and Education. When not writing epic fantasy adventure or teaching the world’s greatest high school students, he enjoys reading, cooking, and cycling. He lives in Jackson, NJ with his lovely wife and precocious daughter.
The Ravenbane Saga, Volume One: Child of Storms
is his first novel.