Fate of an Empire (Book One)

Chapter 2 - The General

General Saris, the leader of the Talurian army, burst into his tent, yelling at his Harmite attendant to leave. He stumbled toward the cleaning basin setup underneath a crude mirror. With each step, a piece of his armor dropped to the ground.

Their three-week siege of the Kilgarian fortress was complete.

Saris reached the sink and plunged his head into the water. He pulled out violently, splashing water on everything around him. Fingers snaked over his brow and through his wet, gray hair. Looking at his reflection, he studied his skin, leathery and wrinkled, showing a man older than he was—forty-three summers. Saris' face, eyes, hair, his whole body, showed the toll of a warrior's life.

Not looking your best, old boy.

Another man entered the tent and cleared his throat, crossing his trunk-like arms across his chest.

Saris shifted his attention to the giant warrior in the entranceway.

"Thandril..." Saris closed the distance between them and grabbed the hulking man's shoulder. "Today calls for a celebration. Fetch us two goblets from that cabinet on your right. I have a nicely aged bottle of wine somewhere around here..." He pushed a few things around in a nearby trunk. "Boy! Come, now!"

As the slave scurried back into the room, Saris found the bottle he was looking for. "Get out of here!" He swatted his hand in the air. The slave tripped up on his own feet and landed on the floor in front of Saris.

The General picked the young man up and shoved him back the other way.

Animals.

Adjusting his uniform shirt, Saris nonchalantly took a seat at the table opposite Thandril.

Thandril was the General's closest friend and loyal bodyguard—an adopted survivor from a long-destroyed, druid enclave. Their meeting was the result of an event many years ago while Saris was only a Private in the army. Thandril was a powerful weapon at Saris' disposal and an equal to no man when he stepped onto the battlefield.

"I have fought in three wars..." Saris started into one of his monologues, taking in the majority of his alcohol in one, drawn out sip. "...and led two of those! All for the late Emperor Kidaris! Now his young, foolish brat is Emperor—" He stopped and looked at Thandril, "you never heard me say that."

Thandril just grinned back at him. The friendly expression tamed his harsh, militaristic appearance. "I only hear words of admiration for the youthful Emperor, master." He casually responded, pulling his warhammer over his shoulder and resting it against one of the tent's support beams. The wood creaked and cried out from its new burden. The weapon's weight would debilitate another man.

Saris blurted out a laugh. "Now, he goes and decides that ruling the southern beaches and grasslands of our ancestors isn't enough, he wants more! However, he can't lead them, no! He needs the legendary General Saris!" He took to his feet with the last sentence, pounding his fist against his chest. Of course he does.

He let out a sigh, "I am the one who should be ruling. The one who should be waging war and, not just as the troop's commander, but as the man behind the Empire. It is too late for me to change the way things are set. Although, soon I will have a son, and he will be a catalyst for change in this empire. I will make sure of that!"

Saris flicked a piece of debris off his uniform and refilled his cup. "I will give my rank to him; he will do things that I never dreamt possible for myself. I am a warrior, but it takes all my loyalty as a citizen of the Talurian Empire to fight for as stupid of a reason as a vain Emperor's adolescent ambitions of world power."