A short dagger clattered to the stone. The three kneeling templars looked down at the knife with fear before returning their wide-eyed gaze to Sentar.
“Now, there’s just one knife, and there are three of you,” said Sentar, glancing down at them with his hand still clutching the old primate’s throat. “Whoever ends this one’s life first can live and serve me. The rest of you . . . well, you’ll see.”
The three kneeling men exchanged glances, and then there was a mad scramble as they fought each other for the knife. The youngest of the three elbowed one of his fellows in the face and then punched the other in the gut. He grabbed the knife and from a kneeling position, he thrust into the belly of the struggling old man in Sentar’s grip.
Blood spurted out from the wound, staining the young templar’s white robe. The red liquid slid off Sentar’s own clothing, unable to cling to the fabric.
“Now, use the knife on your fellows,” Sentar said as the primate writhed and moaned. “Be still!” he said to the dying old man, whose twitching was making it difficult for Sentar to maintain his hold.
After another scrabble filled with grunts and moans, the other two templars were dead. With a heave of his lore-enhanced muscles, Sentar lifted the wriggling primate higher and then tossed him into the air.
Renrik had seen this all before, but the young templar was awestruck as Sentar chanted and called forth elemental air from his hands, whirling the primate above all of their heads. Finally Sentar threw him sailing over the edge of Stonewater’s summit, tossing the old man from the mountain without bothering to watch him fall.
“Who am I?” Sentar demanded as he dusted his hands.
The young man in white robes bowed down to the ground in a satisfying way as the dripping knife fell out of his hands. “You . . . you are the Lord of the Night.”
“That is correct. What am I?”
“A god.”
“Excellent. You can live. Your first order is to clean up this mess.”
“At once, Nightlord.”
“Renrik, come with me.”
The exercising of his power gave Sentar a sense of satisfaction, banishing his disgust at the sight of what the humans had done to Stonewater with their misuse and neglect. Sentar walked to the border of the plateau and felt the wind tear at his shirt as Renrik joined him at the edge.
“Do you think they fell for it, Renrik?” Sentar asked the leader of his necromancers. Sentar smiled; he was in a good mood. “Are they leaping around this Empire with no plan of where to go next?”
Renrik played with the circle of bones around his neck as he spoke. “Who can say, Nightlord?” Renrik said. “We’ll only know when we reach Seranthia.”
“Divide and conquer,” Sentar said. “Divide, and divide again. Splitting our fleet was as a stroke of genius, was it not?”
“It was, Nightlord.”
Rejoining the second naval force had also given Sentar a chance to recover from his battle with Evrin Evenstar, though he didn’t say it. The voyage had been long, but it had been time used well. He was ready.
Sentar had built lore into his ships that kept them cool and prevented the revenants from rotting away, even as they sailed past the Hazara Desert and into the Gulf of Aynar. Unchallenged, he’d disembarked the revenants close to Stonewater while the fleet, now much swifter with loads emptied, set sail again for Seranthia.
There hadn’t been much of a defense mounted at Salvation or Stonewater. The templars and Tingaran legionnaires had fought with desperation, but in the end Sentar was victorious, as he knew he would be.
“We now enter the next phase of the plan,” Sentar said. “I want you to lead the army—all of the warriors we have here at Stonewater—north. Take the king of Nexos, Gorain, with you. He is a capable general and a strong fighter; few can stand in his way. Your goal is to draw them to you. Lay siege to Seranthia. Tie them up. While we’ve been fighting here, the fleet will have rounded the cape and will now be awaiting my arrival on the eastern coast. I will defeat their navy, open the portal, and bring my brothers home. This emperor will have to choose between defending his capital and trying to prevent me reaching the Sentinel. The humans are nearly done as a force. Only we will prevail.”
“As you will it, Nightlord.” Renrik bowed.
Sentar Scythran once more gazed out at his new lands. He would wipe the human-built city of Seranthia from the face of the world, but Stonewater would form the heart of the new order.
The thought of standing in this very place once more with his brother Evermen filled him with excitement. They would acknowledge that Sentar had been right all along. They would know they had been correct to put their trust in him to guard the portal. Sentar would be supreme, even among his kind.
“One force for the west,” Sentar said. “By now, Altura is conquered. One force for the east, led by you, my trusted Renrik. A third and final force for Tingara’s harbor and the portal, led by me. Divide, and divide again.”