Instruments of War (Iron Kingdoms Chronicles) Read Free

current dilemma. The enemy army was led by Naram, a Tyrant legendary for both his skill with beasts and the cruelty he used in breaking them. She had learned what she could of Naram’s exploits, and respected him for his brutal and unflinching victories. He was an adversary worthy of her father and his mighty army, not nearly as appropriate a foe for an inexperienced commander and one small cohort. Yet the ancestors had placed Naram against her, not her father. This battle was hers.
    Makeda knew it was not her ever increasing skills in the art of mortitheurgy, nor her natural talent with the blade that made her valuable to her house. It was her certainty in the truthfulness of the code of hoksune. Her grandfather had recognized that. So, as she always did, Makeda searched the code for an answer.
    Combat favors the aggressor. There is a time for both defense and mobility, but every tactic is merely a tool enabling your inevitable attack. To draw with and kill your enemy is the true path toward exaltation.
    She said a silent thank you to the shards of her grandfather’s essence resting in her swords.
    Makeda held up one hand, silencing her officers. “We will not retreat …” Regardless of whether they agreed or not, they began to move out to spread the word. “Nor will we hold this position.”
    The men froze, uncertain. They looked to each other, none daring to question their new commander. Though she was the youngest in the room, she was their superior both by birth and by appointment. Finally, Barkal of the karax dared speak. “What would you have us do then, Second Born?”
    Makeda smiled. “We strike.”
    The sound of the reivers firing reminded Makeda of a swarm of buzzing insects, only this swarm was made up of thousands of razor sharp projectiles. A House Muzkaar titan bellowed in agony as those projectiles shredded its hide. The gigantic war beast took a few halting steps, showering bright blood from a plethora of wounds. Several Muzkaar beast handlers lashed the thing, urging it forward through the steel cloud. Driven mad with pain, the titan lumbered onward.
    “Reload!” Urkesh shouted at his Venators. There was only a single dathaof ten armigers, but they acted quickly, unscrewing the spent gas cylinders from their awkward reiver weapons. Makeda sized up the distances. The armigerswere quick, but not quick enough. The titan would trample over Urkesh’s warriors and she would lose her ranged advantage.
    House Muzkaar had brought no ranged capability, and dozens of Muzkaar corpses littered the road from where they had been scythed down by her Venators while trying to cross. Makeda did not wish to give up that advantage.
    Makeda had few warbeasts of her own to spare. Since her cohort had been marching quickly in order to seize their objective, she had only been given a pair of cyclops savages. The tougher, but slower, beasts had been left with Akkad. She reached with her mind, using her mortitheurge powers to find the lump of muscle and hate that was the nearest cyclops. She took hold of its mind and steered it into the path of the enemy titan.
    The cyclops hoisted its great sword and stalked forward, towering several feet over even the tallest warriors in its path. What the cyclops lacked in intelligence it made up for in violent cunning. The beast’s single eye flicked back and forth, seeing the battlefield as only a cyclops could, a few seconds into the future, and Makeda wondered if the cyclops could see its own death coming.
    The earth shook as the wounded titan charged. Each footfall felt like an earthquake. As large as the cyclops was, it was dwarfed by the titan. Armored tusks crashed into the cyclops’ armor with a clang that could be heard over all the chaos of the battle. The cyclops rolled away, and the wounded titan followed, swinging wildly with its massive gauntlets. Instinct demanded the cyclops flee, and it screeched in protest as Makeda overcame its mind and forced it to stand its