Krazgul Runeblade's Arc

Chapter 7 of 7

At dawn the warband marched again, fed and rested. Krazgul meant to reach the king's hall before the tribes finished gathering. But the road ahead told a different story. Ace came back from the point crouched low. "Riders," he said. "Royal patrol. A dozen. They hold the road where it narrows." Krazgul knew why. The king's scouts had gone silent too long. Now the king sent a patrol to learn what had swallowed them. If these riders turned back with a report, the king would march ready. Krazgul could not let one of them ride home. He studied the land. The road dipped between two low banks. Past the banks, a sickly pool spread across the hollow. Its surface bubbled slow and green. The smell reached Krazgul from fifty paces. Poison. Nothing drank there and lived. A plan formed. He would not meet the patrol head on. He would pull it into the hollow. Krazgul sent Ace up one bank with his bow. He hid the warband behind the other. Then he walked into the road alone. The patrol saw him. The lead rider lifted a horn to his lips. Krazgul charged before the sound came. His daggers burned black. He killed the horn-bearer first, then let the rest drive him back, back toward the green pool. The riders followed. They thought him cornered. Their horses balked at the pool's edge, hooves skidding in the muck. That was the moment. Ace rose on the bank and loosed. His first arrow took a rider through the throat. The man fell sideways into the sludge and did not rise. Krazgul whistled. The warband poured down both banks with spears. Horses screamed and bolted. Men went down in the poison, thrashing, then still. Two riders broke free and spurred back up the road. Those two mattered most. Krazgul ran them down on foot, faster than any goblin should move, runes blazing. He dragged the first from the saddle and drove a dagger home. The last rider nearly cleared the rise. Ace's arrow caught him between the shoulders. He slid off his horse into the dirt. When it ended, the hollow was quiet but for the bubbling pool. Twelve royal horses stood riderless. No man had escaped. Grak Bonecrusher waded out and hauled bodies from the sludge, grinning through the stink. Krazgul wiped his daggers clean. Raven walked up beside him, staff in hand. She looked at the drowned men, then at the green surface. "Two gone," she said. "The scouts. Now these." Her voice stayed flat. "The king will stop sending small groups. Next he sends the army." Krazgul nodded. She had named the truth. He had cleared the road and bought his silence, but silence had a short life now. The patrol would never report. Soon the king would stop waiting for word that never came and march himself. Krazgul turned his warband toward the hall. The time to pick his ground was gone. Now he had to reach the king first.