The Kingdom of Liticea: The Sorcerer Prince

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Wrorc Maegarc

The air was freezing when Tauron exited the castle. Over supper, he and the Duke of the Westland managed to reach an agreement about the soldiers and where they could sleep. The castle was large enough to house a garrison of at least five thousand, and Horith had four thousand of his own to look after. The Prince's army would be able to camp on the North bank, outside the walls of Rainguard itself for the next few nights. After that, the army would move west and occupy some of the abandoned fortresses left during the Morcar's approach. This would relieve Rainguard of nearly ten thousand and would still leave a sizable force. Winter was on the way, and it appeared that many would be spending the winter holiday entrenching themselves in the Westland.

It was nearly black when the Prince entered the camp. He approached a heavily guarded tent, with it's own circle of soldiers around it. This was where the captured Morcar general was being held. Horith refused to allow the army across the river, and they in turn refused to hand him over. Now that some form of cooperation was being reached, the questions could now begin.

Following Tauron was Killian Ryden, no less moody than when they first met. They would be the first two meeting the captive. As they approached the tent, a guard opened the flap for them and they were inside. It was lit by candle placed on a desk in the center. And at that desk was a man eating dinner and a guard standing over him.

"Morcar," the Warpig boomed and the man's head shot up from over his plate and Tauron got to see the face of a real Morcar for the first time in his life. If one was expecting a monster or creature they would be sadly disappointed. His black hair reached down to his ears and his face bore none at all. He was a young man, maybe only a year older than Tauron.

"You speak our tongue, Morcar?," Killian walked straight up to the table and brought his hands down on it that the plate jumped. His angry eyes were only inches away from the captive's face.

"Yes," he nodded his head nervously.

Killian then grabbed him by the scruff and appeared to lift clean into the air with one massive arm, "Then you better start explaining why you're in my country killing my people!"

"Killian! Let him go," the Prince ordered.

"I want to show this rat what happens when you take on the Ryden family," with his other hand he formed a fist. Tauron rushed forward and grabbed his wrist. They stared at each other for a few moments until a sparkle of red in the Prince's eye made Killian let go.

Sometimes, being the Sorcerer Prince has its advantages, Tauron thought to himself as he turned to speak to the Morcar.

"I am Tauron Heflite, son of king Austin Heflite and heir to the throne of Liticea. The country you have decided to invade."

"I know who y'are," the Morcar said, "Our scouts told us y'er coming. I didn't think you would show up o quick."

"And what's your name?"

"I am Wrorc Maegarc, son of Kirlik."

"I was told you're related to the Morcar King himself."

"Yes, but by many mothers."

"The hell does that mean?"

"We are distantly related, Litici."

"And that got you the command of such a large army?" the Prince asked.

The Wrorc scoffed, "The was but one drop in the sea that s our armies. Enjoy your victory for now, Prince Tauron, for it will be one of your last."

"You think that you can just come into my country and take it?" Killian said.

"And who are you, bearded one?"

"I am Killian Ryden, son of Duke Horith Ryden. My father, my family rules over these lands, and in time all of your kind will be sorry they ever set foot here."

"Funny. My army was happily slashing our way through yours just a few weeks ago. But you needed all those horsemen to come save you. I'm surprised we haven't taken the whole land by..." that was all he got to say before Killian landed a punch to his left cheek. Shackles around his feet made him lose his balance and fall onto his face.

"I'm going to paint ever fucking tree in this forest with the blood of your people, and I think I'll start with you!"

"You'll have to paint over your blood first," Wrorc grinned at his through bloody teeth. Killian unlatched the hammer from his belt and bashed the Morcar in the forehead with the top of it. A huge cut appeared above Wrorc's eyes and it would have gotten worse if the Prince did not make it stop.

"Get him back in his seat," the Prince said and both Killian and the guard picked Wrorc up by his arms and slammed his back into the chair. Tauron was glad that the Warpig his not yet decided to act out against him. After a single punch Wrorc's cheek was split and his mouth flowing with blood.

"You know how to treat a guest," he spat.

"No, this is how we treat invaders. Now, why are you doing this?" the Prince asked, "Why have you come so far from home to fight this war? And to what end?"

"You'll have to ask my King that."

"We're gonna need a better answer than that," Killian warned.

Wrorc shrugged, "Sorry that's all I have to say."

"I think that you've got a lot more," Tauron spoke, "Lord Killian, ask him again."

Te Warpig leaned over and looked into Wrorc's eyes, "What are you doing in my country?"

"Taking it over, if you recall."

"Why?"

"I don't really know..." Killian landed another punch. This time, the Morcar spat out a few teeth after the impact."

"Did that toggle your memory?" Tauron asked. The Morcar was coughing on blood. The Prince nodded to Killian and a mailed fist went straight for the captive's stomach. A horrible hacking sound came from the throat as blood was splattered all over the table and even a few drops on Prince Tauron's cloths.

"What about that?"

"I don't know!" the Morcar screamed, "none of the leaders know why the King invaded. He just did!"

"That's not good enough, Wrorc," coldly the Prince spoke. A wave of satisfaction came over him when the smug grin was gone from his face.

"None of us were told why. We just followed his orders."

"There must have been a reason. Do you need Lord Killian here to help you remember it?"

"Oh, I'll get him to remember it," Killian assured.

"Tell me, does Rainguard have a dungeon?"

"Yes, my Prince."

"Good. have the Prisoner moved there in the morning. Let's give him some time to consider his position. And give him one last bit of help with that remembering."

Killian smiled gleefully and his fist plowed straight into the Morcar's nose, releasing levies of blood all over his face.

"Goodnight, Wrorc Meagarc," Tauron said as both he and the Warpig left the tent

"Haha, what a little worm that one is," Killian joked to the Prince.

"I want information out of him. Will you be able to get said information, Lord Killian?"

"There are two things I'm good at: war and getting little shits like that to spill their guts."

"Remember, he cannot die. He is our only source of information and he may be a valuable hostage."

"I can't see how anyone would put value on a man like that."

"He did defeat you in battle," Tauron pointed out and he felt Killian' anger rise.

"He did that through cheap tricks! He defeated me through..."

"Tell me about it later, Lord Killian. I'm going to sleep," It would be the first time the Prince slept in comfortable bed in weeks.