Free Empire of Bones by Christian Warren Freed Page A

gathered darkness and vanished. Hour of glory? Badron saw only hardship and continued trial in the coming weeks. Winter was on the low side but there were still many weeks left of snow and ice. Worse, this winter proved to be fiercer than any in recent history. Badron felt as if the entire world was against him. Doubts rose. He’d always known Amar Kit’han had ulterior motives but no amount of studying had detected anything.
    He felt helpless, like a prisoner on his own throne. Reluctantly, he made his decision. “It appears we are to be companions for a while longer, Goblin. Give the order. Abandon the city.”
    Grugnak growled low, his cheeks puffing out with disdain. “Not yet.”
    He whirled and stormed from the throne room. There was much to be done before his Goblins so willingly abandoned their hard-earned victory.

     
     
     
EIGHT
    Storms
    Bahr set down the chalk pencil and rubbed his tired eyes. He’d been straining at the course maps for hours, trying to decipher the river Men code while determining their precise location. His only certainty was that they were still on the river heading south. Beyond that he was at a loss. The barge was uncharacteristically silent. Most of the others had fallen asleep after cleaning up after the battle. They’d gotten rid of the bodies and done their best to wash most of the blood and gore off, fearing the smell would torment the horses. It was fast pitched and over before anyone had a grasp of the flow. He feared the results would differ if not for Boen. The big Gaimosian was a monster with a blade: unstoppable and un-killable.
    Heavy footsteps coming from behind brought a thin smile. “You don’t ever sleep, do you?”
    Boen handed him a green apple and shrugged. “There will be time enough for that once I’m in the ground.”
    Bahr grunted, taking a large bite from the tart fruit. Juice ran down his chin. His friend’s pragmatic view on life was very base, often leaving him questioning his own belief system. “This is usually my favorite time of the day. When everyone is asleep and there’s nothing but the wind in my hair and gentle sounds of water kissing the boat. It reminds me of simpler times.”
    “If we were all so fortunate,” Boen commented. “The life of a Gaimosian is freedom. No kings to bend a knee to. No lands beholden us. We roam Malweir in search of meaning. There is no other liberty in the world quite like ours.”
    “Some would view that as a curse, my friend. No homes, no place to call yours at the end of the day,” Bahr countered.
    “The trappings of an easy life. Luxuries not needed,” Boen countered. “When I lay my head down I am beholden to no Man.”
    “So what is the point of living?”
    Boen frowned, not expecting deep philosophical conversations at such a late hour. “To truly live. How many can say they experience all life has to offer? I’m not contending ours is the perfect life. Ever since the destruction of Gaimos my people have known only restlessness. We are denied the simplicity of having home or hearth. It is not a life I’d choose to live, to be honest, Bahr. I am getting old. I’m tired. My body aches from today’s battle. There was a time when I would have shrugged it off and found a tavern. I fear my days are waning.”
    “We are both in the autumn of our lives, old friend,” Bahr agreed glumly. He’d never expected to hear such confession from the proud Man. “Gaimos was destroyed more than two thousand years ago. Why have your people never settled down and built a new kingdom?”
    “There is a legend that says the spirits of our ancestors are imbued within each newborn. That way we learn our history, our heritage. Each Gaimosian knows the price paid for being the dominant military power in Malweir. All of those kingdoms banding together just to wipe out our entire way of life. What a waste. We know there can be no revival of lost Gaimos. The world won’t let us.”
    “I’ve never bothered thinking