In the northern highlands of Markazor, where the goblin vassals of the Gorgon had swept down from the mountains and extended their domain, they had to fight the troops of King Rozgarr, who had been ordered by his master to attack the Anuireans on their approach. But Rozgarr’s goblin forces had faced the mightiest army ever assembled in the empire since the Battle of Mount Deismaar, and they didn’t stand a chance.
On his march through Alamie and Mhoried, Michael had picked up troops from Duke Alam, who had mobilized every available man, leaving behind only a skeleton force to guard his northern borders against incursions by bandits from the Five Peaks. Flaertes of western Alamie had sent more troops, as well, all that he could spare, and additional reinforcements had arrived from Avanil and as far away as Osoerde, Elinie, and Dhalaene. MoerThe Army of Anuire stood drawn up in lines at gan of Aerenwe met up with them near the borders the entrance to the Valley of Shadows. The valley of Markazor, having force-marched all the way from was over twenty miles wide, flanked to the north his domain on the southern coast with every ableand south by the steep and rocky mountains of the bodied man within his province to avenge his Gorgon’s Crown. Nestled in the foothills of the daughter’s murder. Avanil had sent more troops, as mountains to the north and rising high to overlook well as Ghieste and Diemed, and even the tiny citythe city of KalSaitharak spreading out below it were state of Ilien, on the banks of the Straits of Aerele, the obsidian towers of the castle known as Battle-had sent a detachment of mounted knights who had waite, the fortress of the Gorgon. ridden without rest to join the march.
They had marched all the way from Seaharrow News of the Empress Faelina’s death and the ciralong a hidden forest trail once used by Arwyn of cumstances surrounding it had spread throughout Boeruine in his repeated forays against the duchies the empire, carried by swift dispatch riders who of Alamie during the War of Rebellion, across the stopped at every town and city that they came to northern plains of Alamie and the highlands of and sent more riders out, so that the news could be
disseminated as rapidly as possible. It had not taken long for the true story to come out. Aedan had ordered the army to comb every house in Seasedge and the surrounding area in search of Callador. They had found him in a rooming house in town, where he had been hiding in wait until Laera could manage to secure more suitable quarters for him and replenish his magical supplies. They took him by surprise, in bed, without a struggle, and he was brought before the grief-stricken emperor, to whom he confessed everything in a trembling voice. Those in attendance listened, horrified, as the story of his betrayal came out, and when he was through, they called for the most dire punishments that they could think of.
Some cried out for the wizard to be hanged, others demanded he be drawn and quartered, while still others called for burning at the stake. As Callador listened to these angry cries for his blood, a fierce tremor seized him, and he cried out in terror, clutching at his chest, and fell lifeless to the floor. He was an old man, and his heart could not take the strain.
Michael ordered his body burned and the ashes scattered to the winds.
Derwyn of Boeruine had listened to the wizard’s story numbly, unable to believe the extent of his wife’s treachery. In despair, he prostrated himself in front of Michael and begged for his forgiveness, swearing he would lay down his life if need be to avenge the empress. Michael had forgiven him, for in truth, he was blameless in the matter, and Derwyn ordered that Laera be buried in an unmarked grave in the most remote and desolate place his men could find. He did not wish to know where.
As the story spread, the people of the empire responded, not only knights and warriors, but common people, too, who came with pitchforks, spears, daggers, longbows, and whatever other weapons they could get their hands on. As the Army of Anuire set off on its march to the Gorgon’s Crown, villagers lined their route and stood watching silently, their hats removed when the emperor passed by. And as the army marched, it grew, every soldier imbued with a grim purpose.
In northern Markazor, where they met the forces of King Rozgarr, they rolled right over them. They sustained losses, but not nearly as severe as those that they inflicted, and Rozgarr’s troops were routed.
They fled in disarray and the army moved on into Mur-Kilad.
In the mountain pass of Mur-Kilad, they were attacked by dwarves, who fired down on them from the heights and rolled rocks down on the troops.
But the mountain dwarves who fought them lacked the resolve for a serious engagement. They were a conquered people who were forced to labor hard under their awnsheghlien master, and they put up only a token resistance when foot soldiers swarmed up the steep slopes of the pass to drive them out. Still, losses were sustained, but the army kept on with determination through the harsh and broken land.
In Kiergard, the southerranost domain of the Vos, they passed within sight of the city of Esden, but the grim Vos inhabitants declined to offer combat, though their army had assembled to watch the Anuireans go by. They were no friends to the empire, but they had fought long and hard for centuries to protect their land against incursions by the Gorgon’s
savage troops. They would not help, but neither would they hinder.
However, as the army headed north through Kiergard, news
