Free The Alterra Histories: The Fire King by C. S. Marks

sent shivers even through the Shadowmancer. “And dost thou believe I serve any but myself? How very foolish,” it said.
    “You are a part of My being. You cannot exist outside My influence. You would do well to remember it,” said Wrothgar.
    “As would thou,” the Shadow replied, swirling around Wrothgar’s throne like a veil of black silk. “Thy strength is in me, and I hold the key to thy victory. I move at my own bidding—no one orders me.”
    “Then go forth and work your art. There are bodies to break and souls to steal. When you have finished, return to He Who has Summoned you. Our reward will be great, and I will remember it. Together, we will rule this world.”
    “And what if I should choose otherwise? What then? Thou hast not the strength to oppose me, and I shall be even stronger with each foe I vanquish.”
    “You cannot exist without me,” said Wrothgar. “See, now, what will happen if you try!”
    He took his own throat in both hands, and squeezed. His body stiffened, his black eyes bulged, but he did not relent. The Shadow’s black veil turned a sickly grey. It began to twist and roil in alarm. “ All right,” it said. “I understand.”
    Wrothgar released his own throat at last, choking and gasping for breath, as the Shadow’s form turned black once more. “You…cannot exist…without me,” he said, still wheezing. “Remember it! Now, go.”
    Once the Shadow had departed, Wrothgar readied himself for the next step in the plan. He almost wished that his success did not depend upon the Shadow, as he was so much stronger when it was housed within his own being, but he knew the risk would be worth it in the end.
     
    ~~
     
    The Shadow lurked in the depths of the Pale Fortress, casting itself harmlessly across the walls and the floor, surrounding Wrothgar’s battle- force. Once the Enemy appeared, it would fulfill its purpose, taking the Elven host one by one until the few who remained would be forced to retreat. It would feed well…oh, yes! Because the Shadow was a part of Wrothgar, it knew of Aincor Fire-heart…how regrettable that the reverse was not true. When the High King fell, the Shadow would make certain he knew who had vanquished him.
    Thousands of defenders stood waiting—Ulcas, Trolls…even two of the Night-fliers, slender, long-necked black dragons who would attack like silent, flame-spouting bats. These legions were commanded by massive, savage men who had been turned to Wrothgar’s service with promise of riches and power. Formidable warriors, they wore the scalps of their victims stitched together like gruesome capes. Hair of gold, mahogany, and raven intermingled, bearing silent testimony to the deaths of men and Elves alike. Some sat astride fierce wild pigs with enormous, sharp tusks—it was not known whether the rider or his mount was of more fearsome disposition.
    Wrothgar’s defenders did not know about the Shadow. Wrothgar didn’t want to fill them with confidence—he wanted their terror to be real, to draw the Elves into his web. Those who could feel fear trembled in the darkness as the chanting and the Light of Aincor’s host drew ever closer. Then, rather abruptly, the two armies stood facing one another at last.
    Aincor did not hesitate, as he saw nothing unexpected. He brandished his sword, flaring up with brilliant light, and charged forward. The defenders outnumbered the Elves by five to one, but they would not stand long before the light, and Aincor knew it. His followers knew it, too. They rushed forward on the heels of their King, and the battle was joined.
     
    ~~
     
    Vathan had put on Talon’s armor, though he was neither as tall nor as massive and it had not fitted him as well as he would have liked. He had joined the host of Elves just as Aincor led the charge, and he drew his own sword, looking around for Aldamar. He had promised Faelani that he would watch over Asgar, as well. He found them both fighting right behind Aincor, using only