2 Chapter II

Work as a military slave was hard.

In the morning when the army broke camp, Wrolf packed up tents or loaded wagons. In the day as the army marched, either he was sent ahead—with armed escort, for course—to forage for food in the underbrush, or he was made to pull supply wagons. In the evening when camp was set, he put the tents right back up again before being set to digging. On a good day he dug trenches around the camp; on a bad day, latrines down wind of it.

Other slaves tried to talk to him at first—they had no one better to talk to than each other—but he ignored them or told them off. They soon stopped trying, leaving Wrolf alone with his thoughts.

The army meandered upriver at a snail's pace. They would have gone faster on the road, but it was easier to keep the army watered along the river, Wrolf thought when he could spare a thought from his self-loathing. About a week after Wrolf's captivity the army turned east, leaving the creek behind. They marched through dry brush for two hot, thirsty days before reaching another, larger creek, which they followed north.

As they marched, sorties and raiding parties were sent out, coming back with slaves and spoils much like they had from Wrolf's village. For a time Wrolf thought that was Thyrn's whole purpose marching out here, but as the foothills turned to mountains he soon started to recognize the landscape from his trips to Kurbrom. His suspicions were confirmed a week after marching along this new river, when the city itself came into view.

Kurbrom sat between two mountains, where a creek fed into a larger tributary of the Laks River. The city's triangular walls sat between the two waterways, while the land outside them was a patchwork of farmland and irrigation canals. Curiously, the farmhouses burned already as the army advanced.

Thyrn made his camp on the road west of the city, by the south bank of the river. Once the camp was properly entrenched, his first order of business was bridging the river.

Small trees were scattered along the river's bank; these were felled for timber. The bridge progressed quickly, and on the third day of construction the King of Kurbrom came out to negotiate.

King Komn came in a gilded chariot, wearing mirror-polished bronze armor, but a crown in lieu of a helmet. He was escorted by two silvered chariots, a dozen archers, and two dozen armored axemen.

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd show your face." King Thyrn wore armor that bore the dust of months marching through the drylands, its only ornamentation a vibrant purple cape. His escort contained mere speremen and slingers. "Come to thank me?"

"Thank you?" Komn demanded.

"Yes, thank me. I've been roaming through your countryside enslaving your peasants and killing those who resist, while you've sat behind your walls doing nothing; you must appreciate having fewer mouths to fill."

Komn flushed. "I haven't been doing nothing! I've gathered an army!"

"And what an army it is! Three dozen men, to my masses*." Thyrn's retinue laughed.

"There's more in the city," Komn said through gritted teeth.

"Well then, let's see them!"

"Enough! I did not come here to be mocked, but to deliver an ultimatum." Thyrn's retinue howled in mirth; Komn blushed furiously, but continued. "The armies of Cethon are gathering to march to my relief. You are to return all captives and leave my land, never to return."

Thyrn barked a laugh. "Cethon's armies don't scare me any more than yours. Do you think to hold out until they arrive? Your people starve even without a siege."

"And you expect me to believe you can outlast me? With such a large army, in the middle of a famine?"

Thyrn merely smiled, saying nothing. Komn shuddered, then turned and withdrew. Negotiations were clearly at an end.