Wartorn: Resurrection Read Free

These ministers were idiots, the whole lot. Yet he found himself turning back toward the table.
    It was the milky-eyed woman who'd spoken. Her pruned face was twisted into a look of profound commiseration. The others were staring with similar expressions. Despite the mild evening air, Bryck felt a cool fingertip tracing his backbone.
    Without conscious will he found himself asking, "What do you mean?"
    Silence once more; and now he recognized the tenor of the wordless pause. They were afraid to speak, as one will reflexively hesitate before imparting dire news to the individual it will most affect.
    The chief minister folded his hands atop a scattering of paper, set his eyes to the table, then lifted them a moment later. His gaze was solemn.
    "U'delph is no more."
    Bryck did not react, outwardly or inwardly.
Nonsense,
was all he thought, the single word clanging through his head.
    "Our scouts have informed us that the Felk overran the city last night."
    Nonsense. Nonsense.
    "It... has not been captured. It has been laid waste to. Likely as an example, so that other city-states will not put up resistance."
    Nonsense.
    "You have our sincerest sympathies."
    Bryck made as if to speak, but no words came. His journey here had been a waste indeed. Three days and two nights, only to find this pack of moronic provincials playing at government. He had been quite correct, then, earlier when he imagined this group as players in a political farce. What could their scouts know that U'delph's did not? His city, he'd been told as he set out, had six days of safety left. It simply wasn't possible that the Felk armies had advanced so rapidly. It was ... nonsense.
    He swallowed whatever pointless words he'd meant to utter, turned once more, and left the chamber.
    Outside, in the courtyard, he called for his grey mount. It was eventually retrieved by the deaf lad with the wispy red beard. Evening had become night by the time Bryck rode out past Sook's limits, ignoring everyone and everything as he kicked the horse into a faster and faster stride. Its powerful hooves were soon tearing up patches of sod, as Bryck made for home.

DARDAS (1)
    ONE NEVER REALLY appreciated being alive until one had been dead ... at least once.
    It was not the first time this thought had run through Dardas's mind, and would probably not be the last, but he found it inescapable as he stood outside his command pavilion staring out over the ant-like activity of the Felk army bivouac. To all outward appearances, he was observing the efficiency of his officers and their troops as they prepared for evening mess.
    Well, on one level, he was, though he had seen it all thousands of times before. Annies didn't change much over the centuries, except for the uniforms and the effectiveness of the weapons. He could monitor the movement and mood of the troops without really focusing on them, his attention only drawn to any abnormality or break in the rhythm. What he was really doing was enjoying the sunset.
    The fiery colors of the dying day were accented by the gathering clouds. They had bivouacked just south of U'delph, or what had been U'delphand was now a jumble of smoldering rubble. In fact, the smoke added to the spectacular colors of the sunset.
    Strange how he had ceased to notice such trivialities when he was alive before. Now that the gods of fate had given him another chance at life, he had every intention of savoring every moment of it.
    That fate, it seemed, had taken the form of Matokin, a powerful Felk magician with a vision for conquest who needed a general to run his army for him. Dardas still did not truly understand just how Matokin had gathered his consciousness from beyond the void and deposited it in a host body. Neither did he have any clear recollection of the time while he was dead.
    He was, in fact, astounded to learn after having been revived that more than two hundred and fifty years had passed since he had last been an active participant in life. Still, he