Return of the Stormcriers

CHAPTER 35 - MARCH TO WAR

Thank the gods it is not summer, Hal muttered to his horse, Ajax, bending to pet the majestic creatures neck as they rode across the plains of Verden on the morning of the fourth day. The cool autumn air provided scant relief in the mostly shadeless landscape of the Southern Verden lowlands, but it was welcome nonetheless. Cold rarely visited this far south, even deep into winter, confining itself primarily to the snow that visited the peaks of the Sünderin Mountains. The weather in this region was pleasant nearly year round, if a touch too warm in the summer, which was at present saving the gathered forces of the resistance from overheating as they marched.

And what a force it was. Not since the time of their grandparents had such numbers of men marched together for war across Verden; when they had risen to defend their fledgling kingdom against the invading legions from Svet. He allowed his gaze to wander across the group in lazy contemplation. The large mass of men and women who made up the body of the resistance's military stamped down the golden grass with their feet and horses, leaving a trail of flattened land in their wake. Like a long, twisted snake the columns of soldiers slithered across the landscape in dark clumps; a moving shadow across the land.

"Gods this is dull," Ezrael grumbled as he rode past Hal, interrupting the older man's musings. The young nobleman stood in his stirrups like an exhibition rider and twisted an evidently stiff back.

"Why do you not join a traveling troop of entertainers?" Hal groused. "You seem intent on riding your poor horse every way but proper." This was of course an exaggeration, but only a slight one. For the majority of their travels, he had not seen Ezrael sit astride Eros' saddle like a respectable rider, instead, standing, squatting, and even once doing a brief handstand. His uncle had quickly put a stop to that potential misadventure, chastising him that it would not do for one of the few stormcriers in their company to die of a broken neck in an easily avoidable accident before they had even reached their first battle.

  "I have considered that," Ezrael countered, unperturbed by his travel companion's sour mood. "Perhaps if we lived in less interesting times I could have contented myself with the life of an entertainer."

  "So says the rich boy," Hal snorted. He had grown tired many years ago of members of the nobility pretending as if they could survive with anything besides the silver spoon they were born with. Not one of them had risen to their current lives with the amount of work he had put into his ascent. He had built his empire from nothing, and he had no interest in even pretending as if he would prefer returning to a humbler lifestyle. Death was the only force on Eda that could separate him from his holdings.

  "Just because I was born into money does not mean I would like to whittle away my days, counting my coins in obscurity," Ezrael smiled as he spoke, evidently pleased to have pulled Hal into a discussion that could distract from his boredom.

"Are your vast holdings not enough for you?" Hal prodded, his apathy turning to interest at the opportunity to delve deeper into the young man's psyche.

"I would not describe my holdings as 'vast'," Ezrael chuckled again, rotating his body as his horse stepped ahead of Hal so that he was now sitting in reverse, staring over the hind end of his steed. "I am the youngest child of Earl Herrick Benjamin, the youngest of four. I stand to inherit next to no land or power when my parents pass on but to be honest I do not know if I even want to inherit anything, I have no desire to lord over anyone. In terms of money I am set for life; so I need to find myself something to occupy my time with. I have found enjoyment out of this sort of business." He gestured around at the ranks of marching men and then towards the beautiful land that they tread upon.

  "Is that why you are here with the resistance?" Hal asked pointedly. "Is this war merely a plaything for a bored nobleman? Did you believe that you would not make a large enough mark to be remembered to history if you did not hitch your wagon to some cause or another?"