Free Trials by Pedro Urvi

perceive it, old friend?” Althor said, gesturing vigorously. “I thought you could only sense what’s connected to our own people…”
    “Because all this evil is intrinsically connected to a Norriel. And because it’s connected to one of our people, I can perceive it.”
    Auburu lifted her head, roused from her introspective trance. “And which of our own people is all this bottomless evil connected with?”
    “With Komir…”
    They all looked at the Silver Witch in surprise. This had caught them completely unprepared, Amtoko could see. She studied their faces: Auburu’s showed deep worry, Althor’s genuine intrigue and Gudin’s restlessness. Amtoko found the different reactions of the three Norriel to the same news interesting.
    “We have no news of Komir since he left the village,” Auburu said.
    “That’s not entirely true. I’ve been following him from a distance, helping him when I could. He’s in Ocorum, following his destiny, coming inexorably closer to this evil which is beginning to surround him with the intention of swallowing him up.”
    “What has he got to do with this evil?” Gudin asked. “I know the boy, and I doubt very much there’s any evil in him, no matter what the gossips of the village might have wanted us to believe.”
    “Exactly, Master Warrior. There’s no evil in him, but there’s caprice in the turning of the wheel of fate, and he’s been chosen to play a role of great significance. Every day I see more clearly that his role is of capital importance for our survival and even, I believe, for the salvation of the whole continent.”
    “A massive burden for such a young, tormented Norriel,” Althor said.
    They were silent for a while, deep in thought, until Auburu broke that silence:
    “We must fight, isn’t that so?” she asked, looking at Amtoko with eyes filled with resignation.
    “I’m truly sorry, Auburu, I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I can’t. If we hide here in the highlands it may be that the Noceans and the Norghanians won’t reach us, but this darkness, this evil, will find us and reach us. Our people will suffer unbelievably. The highlands will be dyed with the blood of our men, women and children.”
    “Will we be able to stop this evil, this devastating darkness you’re talking about?” Gudin asked.
    “All we can do is try, with all our might,” Amtoko replied.
    Auburu turned to look at the sun, letting it bathe her body, as if savoring the few moments of peace they had left. She sighed deeply, raised her arms to the sun and said:
    “I don’t know whether I’ll support an alliance with Rogdon or not. I’ll think about it. I must make this decision alone. Once I decide, one way or the other, I’ll let the rest of the tribes know. I pray the three goddesses may illuminate my judgment at this crucial moment. Whichever the case, whether we go to war or war comes to our lands, we’ll fight to defend what’s ours, we’ll defend ourselves against evil. The Norriel will never kneel before any invader. We’ll fight to the last drop of blood. Norriel we are, and Norriel we shall die!” she cried.
    The other four, infected by their Leader’s spirit, chanted in unison:
    “Norriel we are, and Norriel we shall die!”

To the last man
     
     
     
     
    For eight endless, exhausting, terrifying weeks the siege brought death and destruction by land and air to the Rogdonian defenders. Days of incessant bombardment of the walls by the terrifying siege machines alternated with bloody assaults on them by the red and white tides of fevered Norghanians.
    The defenders were stubbornly holding a fortress which with every passing day seemed more surely doomed. The dwindling strength of the demoralized men of Rogdon would not bear the punishment much longer. The outer wall, severely damaged by the siege weapons, might fall into enemy hands at any moment; the number of defenders had fallen too drastically to let them hold that entire length.
    Gerart was