A Land Without Kings

Chapter 37: Hildebran

Terran threw more dry twigs into the fire before dragging a large fur skin over towards Hildebran, insisting that he throw it on. Hildebran brushed it aside initially, but his teeth clattered together, and his plush coloring gave away his fever. He eventually accepted the fur skin and clung to its warmth. He was thankful for the rays of warmth that radiated from the fire and soaked through to his bones.

"You know, I don't hold anything against you for what happened back at Fereton, you know, with the deaths and all that."

"I've seen worse things, friend. It doesn't faze me."

"You should know you were suspected to be under a dark spell the way you were linked with the deaths of the healer and the potions master?"

Terran eye's rose slowly from the fire to meet Hildebran's now. His face remained neutral and calm as he spoke, "What do you know of curses and spells? I doubt you have witnessed real magic before."

"What do you mean? Sure, I have, I witnessed Fereton's King and his leadership collapse at the feet of a sorcerer, a necromancer! And you're the reason it all happened in the first place now that I think about it. Your mysterious appearance led King Arynda to make the terrible mistake of calling on one of our imprisoned necromancers and allowing him to give his insight."

"The fall of Fereton is only one domino, friend."

Hildebran was perplexed, and he began to hack at a cough.

"I am younger than you in age, but that is but a number. I have seen much more than you will ever likely see."

"Yeah? Try me. I came from across seas. I used to be one of the Ki'vatsu. Do you even know what that is?"

"Yes, your people—these 'Ki'vatsu'—they serve the sorcerer Edmund Nightclaw of Weptswur. I have heard that they commit terrible crimes in his name."

Hildebran spit out a hacking cough once again before speaking, "How do you know these things? Less than a fortnight ago you were under the powerful influence of dark magic. Now you are making that up simply because you know I am a Ki'vatsu. I am the only descendant from Rednork on the continent of Modena. Furthermore, Edmund Nightclaw is the father of one of my men, Alvar Nightclaw. Tell me, is what you speak true, Terran the Slayer? Tell me straight."

"Yes, 'tis true flustered man. Control your cough, drink the syrup I placed before you. You must get better soon."

Hildebran kicked over the wooden bowl of syrup, his temper rising.

"Do not tell me to calm down, you are just as sick as that necromancer Savok."

"I am the only way you can save your nation."

"Yeah I'm sure. Just like the same way you were the reason it was torn apart."

"There is a much bigger issue Hildebran. The nations of the north are falling like dominoes. Weptswur falls to Nightclaw and his ki'vatsu as well as roaming men of Mestrane. Scourden is falling, in part to the regime you brought to the kingdom there. Fereton has fallen to Savok, and the land of Ulthrak is being raided by a ruthless army of Mestrane's dark orcs. It all ties together, friend."

"That is just the cost of war, Terran. These dark orcs, is it really true they are as near as Ulthrak? I have heard no reports of this army—they must have clambered across the seas to be reside in Mestrane now. Surely word would be out."

"Word has been kept quiet because of the men who lead the nations. King Steed has his thumb down over each of the lands. Indeed, the orcs were brought over as slaves bound to King Steed's bidding."