Verath the Red (Dragonwall Series #3)

Chapter 33 - A Clowder of Cats

Kastali Dun

Talon reigned in his temper. It was not the first time he reminded himself to cease his glaring at Lord Sion Aziz. The man droned on about the state of things in Tayiqar. On and on and on. Gods, it was insufferable.

During his absence, matters had continued to deteriorate, despite his best efforts to implement precautions when the Gobelin attacks first began. Lord Aziz felt obligated to stress that something had to be done. "Something, or we will take matters into our own hands." As if they hadn't already done so.

Tayiqar was desert, mostly, though it had some rich land along the perimeters and a few valuable oases scattered throughout. The northern border straddled the Gable Forest. Its land, along with the land at the base of the Gable Mountains, and even the land near the Eastern Barrier Range, was all hospitable. With the recent raids, most of those living along the eastern border had fled south. Most, not all.

He thought of Kaljah and its villagers, now in the safety of Esterpine. Of Jeanine. She had failed to ask for a boon before his rapid departure from Esterpine. He rubbed his thumb over the coin in his fingers, thoughtful.

Would their paths ever cross again? What would become of her village? Would the few that were left someday return home? He almost snorted at the thought of Jeanine going back to a quiet lifestyle. She was a warrior at heart. Warriors didn't belong in quiet, uneventful villages. Perhaps her friend Jahl would take him up on his offer, and she would accompany him.

"...the losses eating into our economy." Lord Abdus Morad was now speaking. "I see no way to get these villages back on their feet until this is over." He represented Jipirat, another Dragondom in the East.

Talon inhaled, drawing himself up. "Tell me again, Lord Morad, why Dragonwall's armies are still having issues? I thought this was sorted when I made the trip to Lincastle. I worked with your lord governor on the matter."

"It was sorted, my king. But in your absence, three additional villages have succumbed, forced to evacuate. The loss of one-hundred-and-fifty soldiers between them, loss of trade, of commerce. Karoch and Morak generally purchase large amounts of timber during the cooler months—or did, before all this happened."

"And why didn't General Kavish do a better job of defending those villages? How many damned Gobelins could there possibly be? We've killed thousands. They cannot keep coming." He smoothed his scowl, knowing very well they were like ants. They would keep coming from whatever anthill they inhabited.

"General Kavish...believed the attacks would occur in Dahrat, Manah, and Quar."

"Where did he get an idea like that?"

"He received intelligence on the matter." Lord Morad fidgeted.

"Of course he did." His mood darkened. Some generals were idiots. The human ones mostly. "I've been gone less than a month and already my work there is falling apart. What intelligence?"

"Spies, information from infiltrating their ranks."

An involuntary snort escaped his chest. "Is that really what he said? How did he infiltrate their ranks? Disguised a midget as a Gobelin? You don't believe that, do you? Sounds to me like he was acting off of feelings rather than facts. Feelings don't win wars, Lord Morad."

The room fell silent. They shifted in their chairs. Saffra was, of course, not in attendance. Her chair remained empty. His eyes slid over it every time he wished he too could be elsewhere. He could have forced her to attend, but the others were less tolerant of her, and he felt that saving her from their snide comments was a small mercy he could offer.