Book of Water

Chapter 2

2

Rogero sat calmly on the back of his horse. Both were nearly impossible to see in the dense nighttime forest: Rogero with his sun-browned skin, black hair, and black armor; the windhorse Vinderon with his dark red face, reddish-gray body, black mane and tail and legs.

It had been a long night, but worth it. Rogero had pushed his men through the dark and the rain, up steep hillsides layered with precarious rock, then through woods so thick with undergrowth they spent hours on foot leading the horses instead of riding. The men must be exhausted, but they didn’t know it. Rogero had already convinced them they felt fresh and well-rested, and that the rain was barely a drizzle.

An hour before he had instructed one of his warriors to leave the shelter of the trees, show himself for a moment, then return where he couldn’t be seen. When nothing came of it, Rogero sent out three more with instructions to linger longer.

Now Rogero waited. He wanted to see what King Carleman’s men would do.

There was no sign of them, but he knew that they were there. He had already visited the camp the day before to survey their numbers and assess their strength.

He could win here, easily.

He hoped to be proven wrong.

The initial thrill of being so routinely successful had worn off months ago. Now most of the battles felt like pure butchery. He found he preferred it when the small freeholds and inadequately fortified cities simply surrendered rather than stubbornly send their sons and fathers to their deaths.

But Rogero understood the allure of war.

He had been yearning for it as long as he could remember.

What he hadn’t realized until he was finally given command and set loose to conquer was how few warriors would prove to be as skilled as he was. He waited at the beginning of every battle, watching his soldiers take the field. He waited to find worthy opponents. Those, he would fight. Those, he would kill.

His men could kill all the rest.

There. Finally. A few riders coming over the ridge.

“Here they come, boys. Beautiful night for it. When we’re finished, we’ll have a feast.”

That brought a rousing cheer before the men mounted their weary horses and charged onto the field.

Accompanied by a thousand new warriors Rogero created out of the wind.