In the history of Ocillia, Aiden Turriq would be known by many names.? His soldiers would call him ¡°Father Turriq¡± and for a time ¡°Turriq the Undefeated¡±.? The Church of the Holy Twelve would call him ¡°Turriq the Crusader¡±, for the way he carried the banner of Father Church into the Northlands.
The people of the Northlands had a different name for him:? Turriq the Butcher. Turriq, Butcher of Masden. Bloody Aiden.
In truth, he hadn¡¯t meant for the sack of Masden to go the way it had.? He wanted the city intact and mostly unharmed. It would¡¯ve been a strategic port from which he could¡¯ve started a two-prong fight against the Kievan Rus, with the goal of getting them to abandon their harassment of Ispaaran shipping.
He had given his conditions of surrender days before, insofar as he had been allowed to name them.? The Duke of Masden would be allowed to keep his title, so long as he accepted submission to the King of Ispaara and joined his army to Turriq¡¯s forces.? Father Church had been the one to demand the enforcement of the Act of Restitution¡ªreclaiming treasures and properties the once belonged to Father Church, and he reluctantly went along.
He was sure that had been the deciding factor.? If not for the Church¡¯s demands, he was pretty sure he could¡¯ve gotten the city intact without a lengthly siege.? He¡¯d have the shipyards, the yard dogs, the warships already in port. By spring, he could have started his campaign to force a route past the Kievan Rus, and Ispaara could have conquered most of the Northlands by the end of the year.
If not for Hoffsteiner, he thought bitterly.? Fucking Hoffsteiner¡
The fact that he needed the man¡ªthen and now¡ªonly added salt to his wounded ego.? If ever the term ¡°loose cannon¡± could have been invented for anyone, it would¡¯ve been made for Field Marshall Jonas Hoffsteiner, and his dragon cavalry, the Black Riders.
He had few air elements under his command, and he needed whatever he could get.? It didn¡¯t mean he had to like it.
When he began the siege, he had specifically ordered the Black Riders to attack the walls only.? The walls, not the city inside. Masden had no dragon cavalry to speak of, so he wanted to use his in softening the defenders.
An hour into the siege, and Hoffsteiner and his Riders were burning buildings.? It only got worse from there. As soon as the walls of Masden fell, the rest of his mercenaries, fueled by rage and victory, began to loot and plunder, effectively following Hoffsteiner¡¯s example.? What had followed was two days of rape and pillage. Three days later, it was still raining ashes over what was left.
In the shadow of his failure to reorder the troops, he had found a crying baby in the arms of its dead mother.? He had taken it upon himself to take up the infant and give it shelter in his command tent. It was one life that wouldn¡¯t be lost that day.
He¡¯ll probably grow up to be my killer, Turriq thought dourly.? And so the cycle of revenge continues.
A week and a half later, he was going through reports from his advance units.? Several villages had been taken, but a lot of them were half empty, with refugees fleeing eastward, toward the Bitch Queen herself, more than likely.
And there was the other problem.? Rayna, Queen of the Sword, was taking a personal hand in this affair.? That Pagan bitch was nothing but trouble. Father Church had labelled her and all followers of the Goddess as apostate, but that didn¡¯t seem to bother her in the least.?
His only saving grace, ironically, was the divisiveness of the Northlands¡¯ own nobility. As hard as it was for him to conquer this land, it had been even harder for that bitch to convince them to unite under a single banner.
He smirked at that thought.? Getting that self serving mob of arrogant pricks to cooperate?? He¡¯d have an easier time getting a legion of cats to form a tercio and march in formation.
He was interrupted from that picture in his head by an officer entering his tent, and saluting.? ¡°Father Turriq!¡±
Ah well, back to the real world.? ¡°What is it, boy? Spit it out!¡±
¡°A Black Rider¡¯s returned, sir,¡± the young officer said.? ¡°He¡¯s alone.¡±
¡°What of it?¡± Turriq demanded.? ¡°I mean, sure it¡¯s unusual not to come back with your mates, but so what?¡±
¡°It¡¯s¡well,¡± the lad was obviously trying to put it in words.? ¡°You¡might want to see this for yourself, sir.¡±
¡°Oh very well,¡± he said with a resigned sigh.? ¡°Lead the way.¡±
He was a bit annoyed, truth to tell.? What could be so important that he had to go in person to see this singular dragon rider?? It wasn¡¯t as if Field Marshall Hoffsteiner had gotten himself killed. Hells, he might¡¯ve come running to see that.? So, what could be so damned¡
He stopped dead in his tracks as he looked upon the moaning mass of scales and claws that used to be a Black Rider¡¯s dragon in fighting trim.? The beast¡it was bleeding from several large holes in its scales. Those scales could withstand even the finest arquebuses, with scales harder than most metals forged.
There was a dragon handler nearby, throwing a fit over the condition of the beast.? He summoned him over. ¡°What happened here?¡±
¡°I¡¯m not sure, my Lord,¡± the old man said.? ¡°Something powerful pierced this dragon¡¯s hide.? I¡¯m not sure what kind of weapon can do that. I probed one of the wounds, but all I could find was this.¡±
He produced a small, vaguely cone-shaped projectile that measured about an inch long.? He handled it, and was amazed to find that whatever it was, it was heavier than lead shot, and it was encased in what looked like metal.? But it made no sense that something so small could cause such grievous wounds on a dragon.
¡°Will the dragon survive?¡± he asked.
The old dragon handler shook his head.? ¡°I fear not, my Lord. There are many such wounds on this poor beast.? I¡¯m amazed dragon and rider made it this far.¡±
¡°What of the rider?¡± Turriq asked.? ¡°Did he live?¡±
¡°Barely my Lord,¡± the old man answered.? ¡°He¡¯s been taken to the healer¡¯s tent. I believe they¡¯re treaing him now.¡±
He stood there for a moment, before coming forward to the poor pitiable dragon.? Its eye darted a look over at him, but otherwise made no move as Turriq placed a gentle hand on the beast¡¯s head.? All it did was let out a miserable moan.
¡°Put it out of its misery,¡± Turriq ordered.? ¡°No need to let the poor beast suffer further.¡±
¡°Yes, my Lord.¡±
He hurriedly made his way over to the healer¡¯s tent, wherein he found a small knot of priests and deacons hovering over a man.? By the pile of discarded clothes, weapons and armor, this was the dragon rider.
¡°Will he live,¡± he asked the crowd of healers.? An older priest of the Twelve turned to him.
¡°It¡¯s difficult to say, my Lord,¡± he said, looking frustrated.? ¡°These wounds¡they¡¯re few in number, but far more grievous than appearances give.¡±
¡°I need him to survive, Elder,¡± Turriq said gravely.? ¡°Something, or someone, is in possession of a weapon that can penetrate dragonscale, and right now, the answers are locked up in that man¡¯s head.? Pull whoever or whatever you need. Right now, he¡¯s to recieve the best care above all others. Am I clear, Elder?¡±
¡°You are, my Lord.¡±
¡°³Ò´Ç´Ç»å!¡±
He left the healer¡¯s tent, having made his wishes very clear.? All he could do now is wait, and send word to his other forces.? He¡¯d find out where that rider had come from soon enough. When he had that, he could plan accordingly.
Right now, all he could do is wonder what new enemy was menacing him.
