A Darkness Forged in Fire by Chris (chris R.) Evans Page A

ribbons of blood, framing a face so scarred that it was difficult to pick out the line of his mouth unless it was open. A heavy, curved cavalry saber, known by friend and foe alike as Wolf's Tooth, hung from a sabertache slung down over one enormous shoulder and was of no more cumbrance to the duke than fleas on a dog.
    Dull silver spurs sparked against the stones as the Duke quickly crossed the floor, his black riding boots flashing as only polished leather cavalry boots could. His pale-blue surcoat was open at his midsection, revealing a black sash wound around his stomach—Rogolth's Banner. The gall, Gwyn fumed, to wear a fallen orc king's personal standard. Did Rakestraw think showing off the spoils of one of his cavalry's murderous rampages would influence the events of the evening?
    "My dear Duke, how good of you to make an appearance," Gwyn said, releasing his grasp on the cup and giving the soldier a measured wave.
    The Duke smiled, a jagged crease across his face that looked as vicious as the blue eyes that glared back at Gwyn.
    "I haven't all night, Viceroy," he said, walking a complete circuit around the rubble-strewn throne room before choosing a chair directly opposite Gwyn. He sat down with a thump, then rested his boots on the edge of the table.
    Gwyn grabbed for the cup and succeeded in spilling more on the table, ruining the effect of the light across the dragon's maw.
    "The days of quietude in the Empire are at an end, I'm afraid," Gwyn began, motioning at an adjutant to clean the table again.
"Her Majesty's long and benevolent reign over the masses is being challenged. It
falls to us to stop it."
    The Duke flashed a ragged smile. "Her reign, or the
challenge to it?"
    "Very droll, my lord Duke, but I do not find this the least bit amusing. I came to Elfkyna expecting to find order, and instead am shocked to find chaos." He decided not to mention the rakke.
    "Chaos?" the Duke asked, his voice rising. "The only
chaos I know of was the riot you caused in the bazaar this afternoon. Fifteen
dead. What are you playing at, Viceroy?"
    Gwyn spread his arms wide. "I assure you, this is no
game. Rebelliousness is spreading like a plague, and I have begun what you and
the rest of the Imperial Army have been unable to do. The natives will learn to
stay in line, or suffer the consequences."
    The Duke's head was already shaking before Gwyn finished.
"You think slaughtering a bunch of civilians is going to cow them? All you've done is stirred things up. I'm already hearing about unrest across the city. When news of this reaches the northern tribes, they're
bound to react."
    "They already have, weeks ago as it turns out. My
information indicates an army from the northern tribes has moved down the
Shalpurud River and begun building a series of small outposts. These forces are
disrupting our trade routes and making it difficult to take out material to the
coast."
    The Duke huffed. "Your information comes from my
scouts. This army is more mob than anything else. They hardly pose a real threat
to the Empire."
    Gwyn allowed the smallest of sighs to escape his lips.
"That is why diplomacy is best left to those who understand the finer points of
things."
    The Duke motioned as if to leave and Gwyn hurriedly continued.
    "The Imperial Weekly Herald is reporting that all foreign powers should leave Elfkyna. That is nothing less
than a call to arms against the Empire."
    "Over a period of fifty years! Frankly, I think they're
a bit timid about it all."
    Gwyn couldn't believe anyone could be this obtuse. "The elfkyna are not at all capable of self-government. Not now, not fifty years from now, not ever. I've studied their history. Tribal warfare racked this land for centuries. Only under the benevolent rule of this Empire has peace and stability existed long enough for real progress to be made, and this talk of rebellion threatens it all." A part of Gwyn listened rapturously to his own performance, marveling at his