When War Calls(44)

‘The second reason is the desire of a man who has given us the alliances needed to be here. He has earned the trust and respect of the High Council, a native of these parts. I give you this man; Kobin Guyde of Callibra.’

The man sitting next to Liet lowered the hood of the maroon raincoat, revealing his golden-brown hair, beard and features to light. At first glance, he seemed pleasant to look at, of a rare beauty only found in this land, save his strong jaw and flat forehead that gave him his rugged look. He was a man who could be trusted with the respect he would no doubt earn, but his eyes soon became apparent—piercing, blackened eyes that seemed to drive fear with each stare, while holding all the softness in the world at the same time. The men around the table became uneasy with this contradiction, their nods of approval slowing until they all simply stared at this strange man before them—a man who had sacrificed home and family for no more than power and respect among those he should have called his enemy.

‘His authority is not to be questioned,’ Alkon continued. ‘Master Guyde, you may introduce yourself more thoroughly when the need arises.’

Alkon looked at the underside of his dark leather glove to check the time. ‘I am due to report to the High Council in a moment, so let me say this in closing. Our ultimate victory is at hand. The war will be over and you will return to your families soon. You have your orders; execute them with the pride of the Alliance.’

Alkon gave a slight bow before exiting the building.

The room was instantly filled with the same murmur of many conversations as there had been upon his entrance. All were speaking of their new orders and when they believed they would be returning home, save for Liet and the man next to him, Kobin, who seemed to look down upon the mindless ramblings of the others and refused to become involved.

‘A great disappointment seems to be approaching,’ Liet said softly.

‘So it seems, but wonder strikes me, disappointment for whom?’ replied Kobin. ‘Surely not you.’

‘You are a wise man, Master Guyde. It seems only the coat you wear can be pulled over your eyes at times. Perhaps it is by luck that your plans coincide with mine.’

‘Come, we must venture to a place of more privacy.’

Kobin stood and walked toward the door, failing to salute or acknowledge any of the men before leaving. Liet followed in the same manner, and it seemed none of the men had noticed their exit.

Outside, the rain had cleared and the night was maturing, nearing the early hours of morning as both men walked to find a place on top of the newly erected walls, where they could converse in solitude. Any soldiers that might have been within earshot would be far away by now, continuing the construction of the wall.

Reaching the top of the ramp, Kobin took several more paces to his left, his boots heavy on the metal grate beneath his feet. He made no attempt to hide his presence from anyone near.

‘My talks with the High Council have been long and many,’ he began, ‘their faith builds higher with each meet.’

‘I would imagine so,’ said Liet, walking to stand on Kobin’s left side, ‘but will that faith grow enough to be superior to Alkon’s word? This is the question I would like answered.’

‘A doubt to me states that you lack confidence. Have you learnt nothing of my work? Perhaps you need more proof of my ability,’ said Kobin, evil intention filling his voice as he spoke down at Liet.

‘I do not wish to feel your wrath if that is your query. I wish only to be sure that I fulfil a greater purpose than mere seizure of power.’

Kobin looked at Liet, curious as to why he had not told of this ambition before. ‘And what is this greater purpose?’

‘Revenge,’ Liet returned with a slight note of anger attached. ‘My homeland was taken from me long ago because of that blunderer’s father.’

‘Whose?’

‘The general’s.’

Kobin lifted a curious eyebrow. ‘How?’

‘Before him, his father was general, a spy, though I could not prove it. He let our enemies run an underground network for years—let them build their forces until we were at our weakest, and they attacked. I was stationed at a military camp at the time, but I saw the fruits of their work. Hundreds of buildings falling as if the earth was swallowing the entire city, power completely lost, emergency forces standing helpless as no road was left intact.

‘My father ran to save my mother that night, alone, into the black smoke without a mask. It was the last I saw of him—the last I saw of my city. They did something to the air, to the ground. To this day nothing can live there without contracting a fatal illness.’