Era of Wrath (Chrim Chronicles #2)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Loreen

A flood of loud voices and thumps pulled me out of my concentration once more as I marked the island's map on the table below me with red crosses. All around me armed men rushed from tree to tree where they pulled up ropes, others dug holes, and far near the edge of the shore dozens of witches shot streams of blue lines that connected in ropes, forming one massive bubble.

The words of Lily echoed in my head over and over. They are marching. She'd been our spy and reporter this entire time and told us all she could. They are marching. They look like an army of zombies. She had told me the most peculiar thing, that Farren's new army resembled a horde of zombies. It didn't make sense. Army of the Dead, she had called them, neither alive nor inside their graves but marching towards us. They are marching. They look like an army of zombies. It's the Army of the Dead. It haunted me more than anything, but as much as I tried to wrap my head around it, nothing about it made sense.

A witch with long brown hair passed me and I laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her pace. "Have we connected the dots behind the woods?"

She shrugged. "Not sure."

"Well, then go and make sure. We can't have a single opening or they will find the loophole and come through." I waved my hand. "Go." And as she walked away, I grabbed one of the warriors by the arm. "You..."

The young man gave me a nod. "Yes, Lady Commandant?"

"Please, if you will update me..." With a red cross I marked a spot near the bridge leading to the fortress' entrance. "Have all the traps been set?"

"Almost done, Lady Commandant."

With a dissatisfied expression I looked up. "And what about the outposts?"

The young warrior swallowed and looked down. "We, eh... haven't gotten to those yet."

With a loud sigh I laid down the red marker on the map and straightened up, then went to stand as close as possible in front of him and dropped my voice to a whisper. A flicker of fear crossed his face, yet he didn't move a muscle. "Listen..." I straightened his collar with the deepest frown and forced a smile. "They can be here any minute, I repeat; any minute, and I'm not planning on dying here. Not here on this godforsaken island. Do you understand that?"

The warrior nodded. "We're doing what we can."

"No." A brief laugh, as grim as my expression, escaped my throat. "You are slacking." I laid both my hands on his shoulders. "And I can NOT afford you guys slacking. Do you understand?"

"I..."

"If you understood, you would not still be standing here," I interrupted him. "Move! Get those outposts done immediately."

"Yes, Lady Commandant!"

As he walked off, I laid a hand on my forehead and closed my eyes and shook my head. Leading the army for that little cunt Neviana had at least one advantage; I was given the opportunity to ensure our defenses were enhanced. Up ahead, crowds covered the dug holes with dirt and leaves. And up above, the blue dome surrounding the entire island sizzled and danced, seemingly eager to blast those who dared to step through.

Berrik, the army's true commander before I was assigned to the position, stepped next to me. His red hair fell over his forehead as he hunched over to peer down at the map. Golden plates decorated his broad shoulders and chest, "Do you think we're ready for them?"

"No," I said. "I don't think we can ever be ready. What do you think?"

"I agree."

"At least the dome and all those traps will buy us some time."

Berrick nodded, but said nothing. A breeze pressed in my back and I turned around to have it cool off my face. The sea stood grey and restless, tall rolling waves breaking off against the cliffs, but even through the chaos all around me the sea's scent of salt felt rather soothing. However, nothing in the world could manage to calm my mind. A thousand thoughts rushing inside of me brewed a madness that ate more and more away of the true me I used to be, there was the guilt for killing Frank and leaving two babies without a father, there was the fear of Farren's wrath, there was the anger of having my bloodline ended, there was the grief of Uncle Henry, the only father I'd ever known, and there was the loneliness of living in a completely strange place with no one to lean on. There were many people here, yet I was all alone.

A long time ago, a little girl had stood in front of her parents' tombs and asked her uncle why people kill, never knowing she herself would become a killer someday.

Whether it was the arena or not, for some reason I'd managed to grow into an adult who never stopped killing. It had become a habit, a solution, and the only way to stay alive. But the only way I had kept that small sliver of humanity all throughout these years was by making sure I never stopped feeling remorse. As much as the guilt consumed me and drove me insane, at least it made sure I'd never become a complete monster.

A moving shadow in the distance shook me out of my thoughts. More shadows appeared on the sea, and as I stared my jaw fell open for I finally grasped that these shadows were ships. "The bells," I shouted as loud as I could with half a turn of my head, never separating my eyes from the approaching dark ships. "Ring the bells! They are here, I repeat; they are here!"

The stinging sound of bells ringing brought forth a wave the army yelling orders to one another as they ran around to reach their posts. Berrick appeared next to me, I turned to look at the frowning man. He locked my eyes and swallowed, then offered me a double-bladed hatchet – one with curling lines and a black handle – almost as beautiful as Farren's hatchet. With a trembling hand I took it and held it pressed against my chest while watching the ships drawing near to each and every direction, preparing to surround the island.

This was it, from here on there was nothing left to do but to fight the war against my former friends. There was nothing in me that was eager to win, nothing that was willing to kill or even to fight, nothing that made me feel like a soldier, all there seethed inside of me was that determination to survive and thrive. I took a deep breath and swallowed away the fear and guilt. Bring it on, Farren, it's you and me now. Perhaps, if I had finished her off back in Chrim, it wouldn't have come to this. No, I knew that in that case Torill's wrath would surely bring it to this. We were a bunch of vengeful, godless savages, and the only way out we were taught was to slaughter and destroy.

The ships sailed near the shore all around us and were secured to the docks and trees with thick ropes. Troops trickled out of the ships and came to a halt right in front of the dome. They are marching. They paraded to their positions and stared at us from outside blue wall, knowing that one step further would lead to a certain death. Then, I saw a pale horde that was covered in old, crusted brown blood and open wounds, some even had a knife stuck inside their skull. My mouth fell open and my eyes grew big. They look like an army of zombies. There were babies and children among them, and they, too, had not been spared from whatever had caused those wounds. However, none seemed bothered by it. One by one, they stepped through the wall, unbothered and immune to what would kill anyone else in an instant. Why didn't it kill them, I wondered, and what the hell was wrong with them? A sudden thought made a chill run down my spine and I gasped. Hundreds of slaughtered people. Could it be...

It's the Army of the Dead.

"The Fynce line," I whispered aloud.