Rage of a Demon King (Serpentwar Book 3)

‘I heard what happened,’ said Erik. Prince Patrick’s spies had reported about the captains being impaled along with some randomly selected soldiers.

 

‘It’s as if we’re all guarding each other. No one wants to be there, but everyone’s afraid to say anything.’ He shook his head. ‘No, if you say the wrong thing to the wrong man, you’ve got a stake pounded up your arse.’

 

Erik considered his next question. ‘Has anyone asked why you’re sent halfway around the world?’

 

‘There’s nothing left at home,’ he said. ‘Not much plunder when a city’s burned to the ground.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I don’t believe this, but those snakes that stay close to the Queen have been telling everyone who’d listen that this is the richest place in the world, that there’s this city called Sethanon’ - he pronounced it ‘Seeth-e-non’ -’where the streets are marble, the door handles and latches are all gold, and they use silk for curtains.’ He sighed. ‘After what I’ve seen for the last ten years, I can understand why men want to believe, but you’ve got to elect to be stupid to believe that nonsense.’ He lowered his voice even more. ‘Some of the captains . . . we’ve talked about trying to do something, but . . .’

 

‘But what?’

 

‘But she’s just got too much control.’

 

‘Tell me about this,’ urged Erik.

 

He motioned with his chin that they should take a walk. When they were out of earshot of the men, Duga said, ‘I’ve probably got an agent or two of hers in my company now. You never know. This General Fadawah, he’s a bloody genius with his tactics and knowing when to send the men and the like, but he’s also a murderous dog. You heard what happened to General Gapi?’

 

Erik nodded. ‘Staked out naked over an anthill because he failed.’

 

‘And most of the generals and captains had to watch.’ He hit himself in the chest with his thumb. ‘I was one of them. It wasn’t pretty, I can tell you that.’

 

Duga looked frustrated as he tried to explain. ‘It’s the way they’ve got us all,’ he said, closing his hand slowly to demonstrate. ‘At first it was just another fight. You’d sign up at the rendezvous and go fight, loot, then spend your money. Then we started sacking cities. I remember Calis’s Crimson Eagles were on the other side at . . . where was it?’

 

‘Hamsa,’ supplied Erik. ‘That was before I signed on, but I heard the story of the siege.’

 

‘That’s when it started to get ugly. For two hundred sixty-odd days the Queen starved those pitiful bastards; then she unleashed those Saaur raiders on those that fled.’

 

Erik had heard the story of how the survivors of Calis’s company had made it to safe haven with the Jeshandi, the nomadic riders of Novindus.

 

‘When things started to look funny to us, we had a captains’ meeting, decided some of us had had enough, and went to see General Gapi. He took three of our captains to meet with the Queen, and they never came back.

 

‘That’s when we knew. We were in this war as long as it was going to be fought, and any man tried to leave, he was the enemy.

 

‘For a while it wasn’t too bad, though. There was plenty of plunder. Women, too, both willing and unwilling. But after a while you get tired, you know?’

 

Erik nodded. ‘I know.’

 

‘Some of my boys -’ He stopped. ‘None of us are boys any more. Not a man in my company under thirty years of age, Erik.’

 

Erik said, ‘I don’t know what I can promise you. This is different than anything you’ve ever seen. This is a nation at war, but I think if you’ll either switch sides or stay out of the way, if we get through this we’ll find some way to get you home.’

 

‘Home?’ asked Duga, as if he didn’t understand the word. ‘You have any idea what it’s like back home?’

 

Erik shook his head.

 

‘Farms burned, cattle slaughtered, fruit left to rot on the branches because there’s no one to work the orchards. Fields lying choked with weeds because the farmers are either dead or in the army.

 

‘We ate everything.’

 

Erik said, ‘I don’t understand.’

 

‘We fought this war for over ten years, from the Westlands through the Riverlands into the Eastlands, and we left nothing behind us.

 

‘Whoever’s living down there now is scraping by. There may be some people still living in the burned-out cities. I hear there’s a city full of dwarves somewhere up in the Ratn’gari Mountains the Queen was smart enough to leave alone, but if it had humans in it, it was burned to the ground.’

 

Raymond E. Feist's books