Tales of the Vangen: The Siege of Middengard (Book 2)

Chapter 2: Goodwill

{It's been five years since the Vangen brought an end to the Black Ministry's rebellion. It came at a massive loss for both sides. The Vangen lost their Captain, their Magician, and nearly a third of their guardsmen. The Black Ministry and its rebel army were wiped out completely. And yet with every weed we pull from the Empire's garden, more continue to appear. The Ministry, it seems, was not the only conspirator against the Empress. While scouring through their records, an imperial agent discovered that Tyrannus had been secretly conspiring with a group known only as The Cabal, a Sorcerer's league within the Medial Empire. When news of this was brought to the Empress's attention, her orders were quite simple. Put all of Middengard to fire and ax.}

-Captain Libro. An excerpt from the Aquilan Centrum Campaign.

"I don't know who the feth you are!"

Libro blinked down at the red-haired tribesman who'd shouted at him, surprised by his bluntness, but then again, southern manners may not have reached this far north. Nothing more than simple impropriety.

Regis, however, appeared to take offense. His graying brows beetled together tightly, his once friendly smile turned sour. "You best watch our tongue, boy. Before it gets you into trouble."

"Oh, ay? And are you the one planning to pluck my worm, you ugly gray sparrow?"

"That's enough, Kirick!" The woman in the center snarled at him, her long black braid whipping around with her. Libro couldn't see the look she gave him, but it was enough. Kirick backed down, deciding instead that his shoes were of more interest.

"So, I take it you're the person in charge?" Libro hitched his horse to step closer, inhaling sharply as a jolt of pain ran up his right side. He leaned down and adjusted the leather straps of his saddle, securing his disabled leg more tightly. When he looked back up, he noticed the woman staring curiously at him and his crippled leg.

She was young, Libro realized, a youthfulness close to his own, hidden behind the sweat and grit of hard living. Still, there was an ocean in her eyes that was hard to ignore, so deep and vast that it drew him in. The color of her hair reminded him of Elena—Mendax, but instead of an abundance of natural curls, hers were a single braid, sweeping with every subtle movement.

"I am, and you may call me Elba." She swept her spear at the other tribesman surrounding her. "The loud one is Kirick, as you're probably aware."

"Well met," said Regis sardonically.

"The two behind me are Freya and Gretta," Elba continued. "And the one beside me is Sigismund." They all nodded to their introductions, too scared or too wary to say more.

"A peaceful greeting to you all," Libro said, taking the time to acknowledge each and every one of them. "Apologies for the scare. When our scouts came back from patrol, they told us only of Middenite movement. We were unaware there would be...others." He added delicately.

"Keeping to the mists is one of our specialties." The one called Sigismund cut in, stepping closer to Elba as Libro neared. "Going to step down from your horse, or are you Vangen used to looking down on people like us?"

Libro balked at Sigismund's tone and cleared his throat. "Again, I apologize, but I didn't think you'd want to watch a cripple dismount his horse." He tapped his bound right leg for emphasis, cringing as another wave of pain shot up his spine. "It's quite the sight, or so I'm told."

"What happened?" Elba asked..

Libro chewed on his lip as memories of that fateful day bubbled to the surface of his mind. The long drop he had in the chasm of the Deadways. The stink of copper in his nose and mouth, the way Tyrannus' bony fingers dug into his neck. The explosion. The gnawing silence after. "I had a nasty fall. And the bone never set right, unfortunately."