His mind wandered for a minute to her curvy form and luscious lips. He anticipated the time when he would have her, and he knew she would bring him ultimate pleasure. He would enjoy filling her up with his essence and planting the seed for his offspring.
His mind flicked to the king for a minute. What if he had already taken his pleasure of her? What if he had been able to charm her with his good looks and graceful tongue? He had heard stories of the southern king, about his ability to woo woman. Ladies of the court or commoners, he had been rumored to have had many, and it didn’t matter their station. The more exotic beauties he took greater care in getting, but he never kept them long.
The confrontation he’d had with Melenthia all those months ago had made him think that she was beyond the abilities of a romantic tongue, that she had no intention of ever letting a man of nobility tame her. But maybe that was all an act. Maybe she was just waiting for the right one, or maybe, she had been playing him, and he was just the object of her scorn. His blood started to boil. No one said no to him. No one dared shun him. If that sweet talking rogue had spun his mesmerizing web on her and snared her into his bed, he would suffer greatly for it, and so would she. Taking her when she was already spoiled angered him. He wanted her pure and untouched. If she had allowed that simpleton into her bed, she would wish she had never been born. When he was done with her, she would suffer greater than anyone had ever suffered.
He calmed himself. Getting angry now and doing something stupid would only make things worse. He was better than that. He would soon show the ignorant what it meant to defy him, how much they’d suffer for trying to stand against him. His army was full; his powers were great. Soon the kingdom of Aelethia would have a new master.
The troops rode through the outskirts of town, driving the citizens into their homes to hide from them. He closed his eyes, allowing his mind to focus on what he wanted. A small spark started inside a stable on the other side of town, and soon the fire would blaze and spread. It would be too hot and too large for the citizens to put out in time. The fire would burn through the stables, lapping up the hay and the wood, then spreading through the street, taking down one house after another. People would lose everything. They would be homeless and penniless, and eventually, when he was king, they would come to him for help. But he would give none. If they were not with him, they were against him.
A small smile spread across his haughty face, as he could see the spark in his mind, could see it spread. The damage would already be too immense before he even took down the border wall.
Once he had secured his position there, he would redraw the border line and would own Aaralyn. Kevaan still sat on the throne, but once he had fortified the border, usurping him from his seat would be easy. There was no way Kevaan could hold on to his kingdom once the cities surrounding Kingswell had fallen. And that would be soon.
The troops approached the walls of Ulam, where the brunt of the forces held it secure. They split ranks as soon as they were close, spreading themselves out along the perimeters. The trebuchets were wheeled and loaded, the arrowmen had their bows nocked and ready. The horsemen and footmen waited for the signal, the horses stamped and snorted, restless to go. His hell army was grunting and snorting behind him, their humped backs with razor spines and red eyes ready to unleash their fury when he commanded.
This was the day he had waited for. The famines and droughts were nothing, just playtime for him, and the slaughtering of people and burning of cities was just foreplay. The time had almost come for the gates of hell to be opened completely and the mortals to pay for their ignorance and infidelity to the rightful king.
He stopped at the front of the ranks and pulled his horned helm down to cover his face, the eye slits allowing only so much of a field of vision. He didn’t need much; he had his mind sight. He could see where the enemy was by just closing his eyes for a moment, then striking where his minds vision told him to strike. He rode back and forth across the front of the men, the giants beating their chests, the beasts roaring in anticipation. He lifted his sword and kicked his mount into a dead run, giving his troops the word.
All at once the army rushed forward, heading toward the walls. The trebuchets sprung into action, tossing the huge boulders over the heads of the footmen and horsemen, hitting the walls with a force so strong, the towers before them shook.
Inside the walls, the garrison commanders were yelling orders, the army rushing to their places to help fortify the walls, the arrowmen raining a barrage of fire down onto the oncoming troops.
Men fell on the ground and from the parapets, leaving bodies strewn at the bottom of the wall, but the army below didn’t let that slow them. They kept coming forward, climbing over if they had to to reach the men above.