Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

D ecades later…

The soldier arrived in Kormac's war room dusty and exhausted. According to a whispering Lomar—Kormac's general who had eyes and ears everywhere—the soldier's steed collapsed the moment the man slid from its back. Judging by the marks at its mouth and the cold sweat sheening its body, the horse had been ridden hard.

The soldier, unshaven and smelly even from a distance, staggered in Kormac's direction. The guards he passed did not offer any aid. To do so would be an insult.

Sitting on his throne carved from a single piece of obsidian, Kormac studied the weary man and wondered what had befallen him. He didn't recognize the fellow, but that didn't surprise. His horde numbered in the thousands.

"Warlord." The man dropped to a knee and thumped his chest while dipping his head in respect.

"Your name?" Kormac asked while wondering why his forearms tingled where his long sleeves hid the bracers he wore tight to the skin. An odd sensation that he'd never experienced before.

"I am Ioan, formerly of Greenhead Valley, Warlord. I come bearing grave news from the garrison at the Risead Pass." A pass to the far east of Kormac's territory, eternally guarded despite the lack of civilization past it. The Andeir mountain range separated them from the valley of mist beyond it.

Many didn't understand why the warlords—not just Kormac, but those who came before him, as well—kept sending soldiers to the Risead Pass to stand watch. It seemed pointless and yet "Guard the Risead Pass" was part of his oath when he took command. That was it. No reason given as to why, but out of respect for his ancestors, he still did it to this day.

Kormac's brow arched. "A long journey. You'd best have a good reason for abandoning your post."

"Not abandoned, Warlord. Sent by Lieutenant Khaal, the garrison commander, due to an emergency."

"An emergency that merited you travelling leagues and days rather than sending a message by bird." The fort at Risead kept a coop of kalmais, birds trained to fly back and forth between the Wexkord, the capital of Srayth, and whatever garrison they were assigned. Using the birds avoided delays in imparting important developments.

"The kalmais are dead, Warlord. Everyone is," Ioan blurted.

The news rocked Kormac, and it took him a second to control his reaction. His nearby general didn't hide his expression of shock.

"Everyone?" Lomar asked in a low tone.

The soldier nodded.

Disturbing news, and not something that should be common knowledge until Kormac knew more.

"Lomar, clear the room," Kormac ordered his second as he eyed the guards at the far end of the room manning the doors. Far enough they shouldn't have heard, and even if they had, they knew better than to talk. Still, best to not test them. He'd hate to have to make an example because of loose lips.

Lomar shooed the guards from the room and barred the doors to avoid interruption. As this occurred, Kormac stared at the soldier who'd left his post to bring this dire news in person. Stared long enough the man fidgeted. He should, after claiming to be the sole survivor of a garrison a hundred men strong.

Once Lomar reached his side, Kormac growled, "Explain."

"The troubles started with Peol. He was the first to go missing. Went on patrol in the Pass and never returned. We assumed one of the maakath got him." Aggressive creatures that were part bear, part feline, and lived in the higher elevations.

"You didn't find a body?" Lomar clarified.

Ioan shook his head. "Haag and Wexl went looking for him and never reported back. Neither did the next pair of trackers. which led to Lieutenant Khaal doubling up the patrols from two to four men."

Kormac said nothing and waited for the man to take a breath.

The soldier's voice dipped. "Even with four men, it didn't stop the disappearances. We lost two more groups before Lieutenant Khaal suspended the patrols."

"Suspended the patrols? The whole point of the garrison is to watch over the Pass," Kormac remarked. Never mind the fact nothing but maakath and other high-altitude beasts had ever been seen in that cold and barren gash through the mountain.

"The lieutenant knew you'd be displeased but he didn't want to lose more men. He decided to set baited traps at the entrance to the Pass and around the garrison. Freshly slaughtered lamb along with live ones. Whatever took out the missing soldiers didn't take the meat. Rather, it toyed with us by tossing the bait aside and replacing it with those who went to check in the traps."

Lomar interjected, "Replaced? That kind of action doesn't sound like an animal."

"And yet, what was done…" Ioan swallowed hard. "I saw the bodies. They'd been strung in the snares, heads cracked open, innards pulled from their stomachs."

Savage, but most definitely not the actions of an animal. Hungry beasts ate what they hunted.

Kormac tapped his fingers on the armrest of his throne. "So many dead and yet I never heard anything? Your tale seems unlikely."

"Up to this point, Khaal still assumed we dealt with a maakath or another beast gone rabid. The display made of those men forced the lieutenant to realize we might be dealing with something more. He wrote a missive to you." The man fumbled at his jerkin, leading Lomar to put his hand on the hilt of his sword. "However, he couldn't send it. When he went to the aerie, not only were the birds all gone, Unwe—their keeper—was dead, too."

"Something infiltrated the garrison." A quiet statement.

"That's what we all assumed even as we couldn't figure out how. There's only one door to get in, and it was never left unguarded. The lieutenant doubled the garrison perimeter guards. Ensured the entrance was secured. It didn't help. Every night after, we lost several men."

"Several?" Lomar burst out. "And you're telling us you found no culprit? Bullshit."

"It's the truth," Ioan insisted. "It was eerie as none of those killed screamed or even struggled. The next morning we'd just find them, some killed in their bunks, others left eviscerated on the parapets."

"Always killed in the same fashion?" Kormac asked to clarify.

"Mostly. Slices to the gut were the most common. Some got it across the neck, too. A few had their heads caved in." Ioan paused and took a breath before continuing. "After the third night of losses, and down more than thirty soldiers, Khaal ordered us to saddle up and ride out."

"Abandoning his post rather than digging out the root of the problem." Kormac's lip curled. He had no patience for cowardice.

Ioan tried to defend his lieutenant's actions. "What else could he do? We couldn't figure out how and who was killing us."

"So, you deserted and what? Knowing of their disgrace the rest of the garrison fled, leaving you to be the only messenger. Brave of you to volunteer." Kormac's smile had the soldier quaking.

"No, it wasn't like that. We were supposed to leave together. The night before our departure, whatever hunted us went after the horses. We woke to find them slaughtered in the barn. The soldiers guarding them, more than a half dozen, left in pieces."

"And yet you arrived on a horse?" Lomar pointed out.

"By chance. A mare running a fever had been housed separately in case she proved to be contagious. With only one steed left, and no birds, Khaal entrusted me with his messages explaining what happened and told me to bring them directly to you."

"You said earlier everyone died. How would you know that if you left?" Kormac questioned, clenching his fists. His arms still tingled, and he wondered why but couldn't exactly pull up his sleeves in the middle of an audience for a peek.

"I don't know for sure." Ioan's lips turned down. "Khaal was supposed to have those remaining barricade themselves in the watchtower. He promised to light the signal every night at dusk. On my third night of travel, it failed to appear."

Dire news if true. What could have killed an entire garrison of soldiers? And how could it have been unseen?

Kormac stared at Ioan before asking, "What do you think attacked them?"

"The puuka." The fabled ghosts that lived in the land of mist beyond the mountains, not real, and yet some believed in their existence. Blame the stories passed down through generations, speaking of monsters and magic, neither of which existed.

Ioan's reply led to Lomar blustering, "That is superstitious nonsense. Most likely either a stealthy invader or a wild animal."

"Animals that can open locked doors without leaving a trace? Animals that can sneak up on a man and kill him without a single scream escaping?" Ioan became agitated.

"Probably asleep at their posts." A denigrating reply from Lomar, but in his defense, those sent to the garrison were the weakest of the horde. The slovenly, the poorer fighters, the disgraced. A posting to the Risead Pass was the ultimate insult to a soldier as it meant they were deemed not good enough to defend the citadel or their borders.

"Who else have you told about this?" Kormac asked.

"No one, Warlord. I rode straight and hard here to give you the news."

"Where are the other missives Khaal entrusted with you?"

The man dug in his tunic and pulled out a parchment, rolled and bound with wax. Kormac gripped it but didn't open it to read. First, he had to deal with the soldier.

"Lomar, have Ioan escorted to a cell. One away from the others. He is to speak to no one."

"You're punishing me?" The man seemed shocked.

"As if I'm going to believe your wild tale without confirmation. Lomar is right. It is implausible that an entire garrison would be wiped out without a single sign of the enemy."

"But it's the truth," Ioan exclaimed.

"Then you won't mind sojourning in a cell while I verify it." He glanced to Lomar. "Ensure no one is allowed near him. I don't need him spreading rumors and panicking the populace."

"As you command, Warlord." Lomar stepped forward to grab Ioan by the arm.

Ioan didn't go quietly. "You have to listen to me. There is a grave danger brewing in the Pass. My great-grandmother lived her whole life in Greenhead Valley only a day's ride from the garrison and she used to tell stories of a monster that lurked within the caves of Andeir."

"There are no caves and stories are just that, stories." As a young man, Kormac's father had taken him to their eastern mountain and shown him the Pass saying, " We don't know why the oath insists we guard Risead Pass but our ancestors must have had their reason and so we honor their wishes."

"What if it's true? What if that's why the garrison is there, to protect against monsters?" Ioan shouted as Lomar dragged him away.

"Then you failed, and you know what the punishment for that is." There was no mercy for deserters.

"And you'll fail too," Ioan snapped. "It's easy for you to judge. You weren't there."

Kormac's lips pinched at the insult. Lomar took it even worse. He knocked the pommel of his sword against Ioan's temple and the man collapsed.

"Mouthy coward," the warlord's second muttered.

"All the more reason to keep him separate. Make sure you tell no one," Kormac advised unnecessarily.

"No shit," Lomar muttered. "Imagine thinking ghosts and monsters are real."

"They aren't, but I'll still want you to head out and make sense of the situation."

"Aye, Warlord. I'll leave for the garrison in the morning."

"Excellent."

Lomar left with a limp Ioan slung over his shoulder. Once the door shut, the odd sensation in his arms disappeared. Kormac still pulled up his sleeve but there was nothing to see. Just the dull metal of his bracers, intricate in appearance, inherited from the last warlord, their version of a crown.

He pushed the fabric back over his arms before opening the first missive Khaal supposedly meant to send. It held a brief recap of what Ioan told him.

Warlord. This is Lieutenant Khaal of Risead Pass informing you we've lost some soldiers in the line of duty. I've included the names so you can compensate the families. Most likely a maakath is to blame. They've been nosing around the garrison of late instead of staying in the mountains. I've assembled a hunting team. Expect some skins if successful.

Maakath fur made great winter cloaks.

The first note seemed normal, advising him of the deaths so the families could be notified. The second, though, seemed as if written by a different person. Khaal's usually tight and concise writing, a shaky scrawl. It began with an apology.

Sorry Warlord, I have failed you. The garrison is just about lost to an enemy we cannot detect. If you receive this, then Ioan will have told you of the deaths. Or should I say, the slaughtering of the soldiers in my care. I should have sent you notice with the first kill, but I thought I could handle it. Whatever hunts us is wily. It leaves no trace. No tracks. It can enter rooms with closed doors. Awake or asleep, it does not seem to matter. We have locked ourselves in the tower and will take turns keeping watch. I still have hope we can stop whatever is killing us. If we fail, tell my family I love them.

There had to be an explanation. Something that vicious and wily didn't suddenly start murdering. Whatever the case, Lomar would sniff it out and when they found out who dared to attack Srayth, he'd bring the horde down on their head and make them regret ever being born.