The Battle of Ebulon Read Online Free PDF Page B

be
accommodating.
    “Right away,” he said with
a salute, and a moment later the portcullis began to creek
upwards.
    Malik got as close to the
wall as he could, but the delay still provoked needles of pain to
persist in their insidious, creeping torment. He situated himself
next to the small door that had been cut within the gate and stood
with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose until the
portcullis had risen enough and the door cracked open.
    Not waiting for an
invitation, Malik dove through, shouldering several armored bodies
out of his way in the process.
    His act provoked a
commotion of squeals and cries, and several heavyset men lost their
balance and tumbled to the mud.
    After the initial rush,
however, Malik stood absolutely still.
    “What's the matter with
you?” a soldier cried. Malik turned to look and found it was the
same man he had been conversing with on top of the wall.
    “I told you, my head hurt
and my passage was urgent.” Malik snapped. “You should have
instructed your buffoons to get out of my way.”
    The soldier looked
bewildered, but he soon recovered.
    “Well, if the pain is so
great, why have you stopped?”
    The hint of a smile passed
over Malik's face.
    “It went away,” he said,
“the pain I mean. It's gone. Evaporated instantly.”
    He rubbed his forehead
before looking back once more at the soldier.
    “What do you think that
means?”

    ***

    The table was made of
crudely hewn oak boards, and the flagon that Malik clutched was
chipped. He lifted the foul smelling drink to his lips and
squinted.
    “What did you say this
stuff was?”
    “It's
called Vaas , it's
our local brew.”
    “It's going to make me go
blind,” Malik quipped before taking a long pull. He wiped his mouth
with his sleeve.
    Malik had discovered that
the soldier across the table from him, the same one he had met on
the wall, was named Stern. Joining them was another man who wore
fine robes instead of armor. Stern had called the fellow shortly
after Malik's arrival. He was one of those obnoxious folks that had
a title as well as a name.
    “So Regent Jenner,” Malik
said, emphasizing the man's title in a way he hoped came across as
suitably disrespectful. “Let me see if I have this straight. Your
town...”
    “...noble city,” Jenner
interrupted.
    “Is about to be overrun by
an enemy force...”
    “...Orcs.”
    “So your witch
king...”
    “...wizard.”
    “Magicked up a cosmic
headache for any swordsman wandering around...”
    “He sent out a call
yes.”
    “And we're expected to
come and save this dump.”
    Regent Jenner winced at
the word 'dump,' but still nodded. “That's more or less
it.”
    Malik grunted
and took another swig of his Vaas .
    “Let me assure you that
the call of our noble King Yadi...”
    “Yadi huh?”
    “...was never supposed to
cause you any pain. To a true hero, the call should have elicited a
sensation of euphoria.”
    Malik scowled.
He didn't say anything, but he lifted his flagon of Vaas , took a long draw,
and set the flagon back on the table without ever taking his eyes
off Regent Jenner. When he was done, he again found his
voice.
    “So what did you do to
irritate your attackers?”
    Regent Jenner nearly
dropped the glass of wine he'd been sipping.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Why are you being
attacked?” Malik persisted.
    “They're Orcs,” Stern said
noting that Jenner was too beside himself to answer.
    “That's not a reason,”
Malik replied, “what'd you do, build this city on their sacred
mating ground or something?”
    “Orcs are
evil.”
    “So are
people.”
    “I can assure you that we
did nothing to provoke this attack,” Jenner snapped. “Orcs are
unthinking beasts that exist only to destroy.”
    “Uh-huh,” Malik
said.
    “Do you know anything of
Orcs?” Stern persisted.
    “I know that there are two
sides to any conflict. A fool who steps between a mother bear and
her cub will believe he is the victim of an 'unprovoked attack'
right up to the