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    Hundreds of campfires like Goslin’s dotted the landscape around him. He stretched, his muscles protesting the movement.


    The Eldsprak army had moved away from the stench of the battlefield and patrols were heaving, along with guards stationed all throughout the camp. If the rhinn tried striking at them from within their perimeter, the alarm would sound within moments. They were safe, for now.


    Kax sat to his right, biting large chunks out of a piece of meat he’d scrounged up.


    "For the last time," Goslin said. "My friend is not going to eat you."


    "I might," Kax muttered, grease running down his chin.


    The boy pointed to Kax. "See! You eat children and sacrifice them to your evil gods!"


    "Our god is dead," Goslin said. "We killed him."


    By the alarmed look on the boy’s face, that statement did not have the intended soothing effect.


    "What’s your name? We can’t keep calling you ‘boy’."


    "You could release me," the boy said, hope glittering in his eyes.


    Goslin shook his head. "Afraid not. Not yet at least. Name?"


    "Reze."


    "Reze?"


    The boy nodded. "Reze. Now will you let me go? I’m not a soldier."


    "You want to be a soldier?" Kax asked. His eyes were strangely dark, and the firelight didn’t reflect in them the way they should.


    Reze glared back at Kax. "Yeah! What of it, old man? I’ll become a soldier and kill you!"


    Kax grabbed his chest, like he’d been struck a mortal blow. "Ow. Old?"


    "Standing up for what you believe in is a fine quality to have, Reze," Goslin said.


    The boy looked confused. "You really killed a god?"


    "Not me personally, no. Our people did. With some help."


    "Could you do it again?" Reze asked.


    Goslin searched the boy’s face for the motivation behind such a question. "Why do you ask?"


    Reze shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "I don’t know. The old man said something about it."


    "What did the old man say?" Kax asked.


    "Wyndemir," the boy replied, shuddering.


    "Who’s that?" Goslin asked.


    "Not sure. One of those mad priests was saying we would be saved by Wyndemir, but the old man pulled me away. Told me Wyndemir is bad. The name makes me feel cold when I say it. Wyndemir. Wyndemir." He shuddered again and held out his hands to the fire.


    Goslin glanced to Kax. This was the first he’d heard about a rhinn god.


    "Wouldn’t he side with us if he’s a bad? We couldn’t very well kill him then," Kax said.


    Reze looked worried. "Didn’t think of that."


    "We’re not the enemies here," Goslin said. "Everything will be well, don’t you worry."


    "Wyndemir," Kax said. He looked around and then shrugged. "I don’t feel anything."


    "I’m special," Reze muttered.


    "How so?" Kax teased.


    The boy slid a little closer to the fire and then folded his arms and glared. "I’m not telling."


    "Do you want any more food, Reze?" Goslin asked.


    "No."


    "Then you should get some sleep. We’re leaving early tomorrow."


    "I’m not going anywhere with you, just you watch. As soon as you fall asleep, I’m out of here!"


    A few minutes later, the boy lay snoring on the ground. Kax picked him up and gently placed him a little farther from the flames.


    "What do you think?" Goslin asked.


    Kax returned to his own seat. "About what?"


    "Wyndemir."


    "I think you should let me find one of those priests."


    Goslin glanced at Kax’s obsidian black hands. The light from the campfire seemed to be absorbed by Kax''s darkness.


    "You think there’s something to it?"


    Kax shrugged. "We had gods, so them having one is within the realm of possibility."


    "If they were to bring their god over to Maydian, that would spell disaster."


    "Perhaps they already did," Kax said. "How would we know?"


    Goslin thought for a moment. They’d know, wouldn’t they? "Don’t you think there would be some sign? Or that the rhinn would be crushing us?"


    "Goslin, dear friend," Kax said, in a half mocking tone. "They have already crushed us. Eldsprak is in their hands. Who knows what the Vatners and Loftians are dealing with, not to speak of the Kin."


    "We’ll rally," Goslin said with conviction. He didn’t believe for a moment that all was lost. Their army was growing with each day and the momentum was on their side. Now was the time to strike back and strike back hard.


    When they woke the next morning, Reze was gone. No one had seen the young rhinn leave. It was like he’d vanished into thin air.


    "Good riddance," Kax said. "We can’t care for a child on a battlefield."


    "I hope he makes it back to his people unharmed."


    Goslin pushed the flap aside and strode into the hastily assembled command tent with Kax, Asken, and Fredrik in tow. Gunnar was sitting, a map unfurled on the ground in front of him. The man looked tired, haggard.


    "You look terrible," Kax said, moving in to sit on the ground. Asken joined him but remained quiet.


    Goslin took the empty chair next to Gunnar. "Did you not sleep well?" Goslin slept like a rock through the night, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. Despite the long night of rest, he still felt restless.


    "There was too much to do," Gunnar said.


    Fredrik took the last chair and surveyed the map. "Gunnar and I have prepared for departure. We also have discussed the possible paths going forward."


    Goslin felt a surge of emotions. Disappointment in himself that he hadn’t stayed awake with the other two men, along with anger that they had strategized their next moves without him. He pushed both down and adopted an expression of neutral authority.


    "Show me."


    Gunnar bent down and used a thin stick to point at the map. "We are here." He moved it to where three small rocks had been placed. "These are known contingents of Eldian soldiers."


    "What information do we have on each of them?" Goslin asked.


    He pointed at a rock placed west of Fyrie, near the sea. "This is the largest force. About six hundred men strong. We believe they are being led by your brother."


    Goslin straightened. "Which one?"


    Fredrik answered, "Gatling. I’m afraid your brother is leading his troops too aggressively. They won’t last long."


    "What of the others?" Kax asked. He pointed to a rock to the south of them.


    Gunnar leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "A small force of about fifty soldiers. They’re ours, but we don’t know who leads them. Linking up with them would be my first recommendation, as there are no rhinn forces between us."Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Fredrik continued. "The last one is here, to the north. A force about the same size as ours. We have not been able to make contact with them due to the large number of enemy combatants and the great distance between us."


    "Do you agree with Gunnar’s assessment, Fredrik?" Goslin asked.


    "I do."


    "Very well. We swell our ranks with the group to the south, then turn north to link up with my brother’s forces."


    "There is heavy resistance to the north," Fredrik warned.


    Gunnar nodded in agreement. "Also, your brother will want command of all our forces. He might endanger us all."


    "I’ll deal with my brother," Goslin promised.


    They did not look convinced, but no one argued the point.


    On their march south, a deluge of rain slowed their progress. It was cold and miserable, but Goslin tried his best to keep the spirits of the men up. He reminded them of their victory over the rhinn and pyromancers and promised that more was to come. He was not entirely successful.


    During the first day, several gateways were spotted. No rhinn troops appeared. Instead, Goslin received reports of bald men in robes with tattooed foreheads. The strange rhinn watched from a distance, but did nothing else.


    The mood of the men did not improve when, during the night, they heard guttural howls in the darkness.


    "Luisons?" Kax asked, where they huddled under blankets in the rain.


    "Those sounded more like people screaming," Goslin said.


    Kax nodded thoughtfully. "Kozimuz?"


    "Don’t even suggest it."


    "You two have seen a lot, haven’t you?" Asken asked.


    Goslin was about to answer when a shimmering light caught his eye. A line of silver was barely visible in the rain. "Gateway."


    Kax leaned over to look. "That’s not far. Bet I could make that."


    "And do what?" Goslin asked.


    "Kill whoever comes out."


    "What if it’s the rhinn army?" Goslin asked. "You’re not invincible, Kax."


    "Aren''t I?"


    Goslin expected his friend’s trademark grin, but Kax looked serious.


    "You’re not."


    "You wanted a priest to question."


    "Yeah, but?—"


    Kax stood and pulled up the hood of his dark gray cloak. "I’ll find you after."


    "Wait," Goslin said, reaching out to grab at Kax, but it was too late. Kax disappeared into the night. The gateway soon dissolved into nothing.


    Tvalfager appeared. "Hurry!"


    "What is it?" Goslin shouted after the young pyromancer.


    He turned and saw terror in the man''s eyes. "We’re being attacked! Can’t you hear the alarm?"


    Goslin frowned, listening. He did hear it, far off and muted by the rain. It came from the northern side of the camp.


    "Let’s go!" he yelled at the drowsing men around him, hurrying after Tvalfager, with Asken following close behind. "Brave of you to charge toward danger!"


    "I’m not the man you met in the forest!" Tvalfager shouted back. "Also, everyone is heading that way. I don’t want to be left alone!"


    Goslin stopped suddenly and peered into the darkness beyond the camp. Though he didn’t see or hear anything unusual, the fine hairs on the back of his neck rose and he reached for his shield.


    "You see anything?" Asken said.


    "No." The sensation lessened and then vanished. "Let’s go help the others."


    When they arrived at the northern perimeter of the camp, it was already too late. Soldiers stood in tight clumps, pointing and whispering. Goslin counted at least fifteen dead men in a ring around the biggest wolves he’d ever seen.


    He pushed the men aside. No, these weren’t normal wolves. Their shapes were roughly that of wolves, only on a massive scale. Easily taller than a horse, though the monstrous size wasn’t the only difference. Goslin wrinkled his nose at their stench. They smelled like death. Their flesh was visibly rotting. Large chunks were missing. How these wolves even moved was beyond Goslin.


    "What happened?" he asked, turning to the closest soldier, a young man clutching his arm. Even with the soldier’s hand over the wound, Goslin saw a long gash and dark blood seeping through his sleeve. "Never mind. Go find a healer."


    He grabbed a second soldier, this one a gruff veteran in plate armor. One of Fredrik’s men. The chest plate was buckled inward and, from the look of the soldier’s blue lips, cutting off the man''s air. Goslin waved for Asken and together they frantically cut through the leather straps until the chest plate fell away.


    "Thank you," the soldier said, panting.


    "Tell me what happened," Goslin said, helping the older man to his feet.


    The soldier winced, clutching his chest. He fell back on the ground. "These things came out of the dark. There are more, but only two attacked. Bad enough if you ask me."


    Goslin gaze fell on the dead men. "Agreed. Good job felling the beasts."


    He turned to Asken. "Find Fredrik. I want guards and patrols increased. No one keeps watch alone from now on."


    The stench from the wolf creatures was overpowering, but Goslin caught sight of something on one of the defenders and stepped a little closer. He pressed a piece of cloth to his nose to suppress the worst of the stink. One of the fallen soldier’s skin was swollen and discolored. Pus oozed out of the bite wound.


    Goslin stepped back. "Tvalfager."


    "Yes?"


    "Burn the bodies."


    "No funeral? Shouldn’t we identify them first?"


    "Burn them all. There''s something wrong with them."


    Tvalfager shrugged and then shouted, "Everyone back!"


    Fire gushed from his open palms, and the rain did nothing to dampen the incredible heat. In a matter of seconds, the bodies, both men and the wolf creatures, were nothing more than piles of wet ash.


    A horrible thought struck Goslin, and he turned to look for the soldier with the wounded arm. "Where did the injured soldier go?" he asked.


    "For the sick tent, sir."


    Goslin swore under his breath. "Where is that?"


    The soldier pointed south and Goslin set off running. "Tvalfager, keep up. I''m going to need you again before the night is through."


    He had witnessed the devastating effect of an infection back at the capital when he was a child. His father often toured the city''s hospitals in a show of support, but kept his distance, telling Goslin to take care as even the air was tainted. Goslin saw firsthand the way an infection can rot away a man''s body. Goslin was plagued by nightmares for weeks after the visit, harrowing images of the bloated, pus-filled dead, the hopeless cries of the dying, and the ever-present stench of charred corpses.


    It was not a good death. He prayed he was wrong about the injured soldier.


    Pushing back the flap of a white canvas tent, Goslin saw rows of cots filled with injured soldiers. The men within groaned and cried. Some stared blankly into space.


    Goslin found the soldier from the wolf attack. He sat on the ground, his injured arm being bandaged by a woman wearing a blood-stained apron.


    "Who''s in charge here?" he asked the nurse.


    The woman straightened and wiped the worst of the grime off her hands with an unclean rag. "That would be me, I suppose."


    "You''re a healer?"


    She chuckled. "No, nothing fancy like that. Not even the kind you have in the capital. I do have some experience setting bones and stitching up scrapes. They sent me to oversee this tent."


    Goslin nodded and approached the injured soldier. He took care to keep his distance. "How is your arm, soldier?"


    The man''s face was tight with pain. "Not great, If I’m being honest. They don''t have anything for the pain and it''s getting worse."


    "Did you touch the wound?" Goslin asked the nurse.


    "Sure," she said. "Can''t attend to a wound without touching, now can I?"


    Goslin didn''t want to take any chances, not after what he''d seen of the giant wolves.


    "I''m going to need you to wash your hands right now. Scrub thoroughly with hot water and soap."


    The woman looked at him like he was crazy, but she did not argue. It took her a few minutes of vigorous scrubbing to remove all the grime from her hands and arms. She gasped out in surprise when she saw that her skin was covered in large, angry pink blotches.


    Tvalfager looked ill.


    "Did you have those before?" Goslin asked.


    She shook her head, her face twisted with fear. "No."


    Goslin stepped away. "Come with me, both of you."


    The soldier winced, but stood and followed. The nurse swept her gaze at the other patients in the tent before following both men.


    "Asken, find me an empty tent." The older soldier looked warily at the injured man and the nurse before hurrying away. He soon returned and directed them to a small tent. Goslin beckoned for the soldier and nurse to enter.


    "I''m sorry," Goslin said. "But we will need to keep your separate from the others."


    The soldier looked stunned, but the nurse nodded, gazing down at her marked flesh.


    "You didn''t touch anyone else? After the soldier, I mean," Goslin asked the nurse.


    "No, I started on him and then you came. There were no other patients in between."


    He turned to the young soldier. "Did you touch anyone else?"


    "I didn’t."


    "Good." Relief washed over him. He may have caught the infection in time. "You two stay in here. Do not come out for any reason." He closed the tent flap and straightened. In a low voice, he said to Asken, "Station two men here. Tell them to wear gloves or grieves. Under no circumstances are those two allowed to leave the tent. Understand?"


    "Understood."


    "If you don''t need me anymore, I would like to go get a few hours of sleep," Tvalfager said. His eyes landed on the tent, a disturbed look on his face.


    "Of course," Goslin said. "Get some rest, my friend."


    Kax had not returned by morning. As Goslin readied to go out and find his friend, a messenger came running.


    The young man stopped and saluted, before gasping out, "Your presence is requested at the medical tent, sir!"


    A sinking feeling filled his gut as he thanked the messenger.


    Asken and Tvalfager met up with him as he approached the tent where he’d left the two unfortunates the day before. A sickly-sweet stench permeated the air, stinging his eyes. Goslin covered his face with a damp cloth as he entered the tent.


    Thick bile rose in his throat as he surveyed the small space. A solid mass of congealed flesh undulated in the middle of the tent. In horror, he realized that he couldn''t see where the nurse stopped, and the soldier began.


    The worst part was how the mass wouldn’t stop moving, as if still alive. Goslin gagged and closed the tent flap.


    He faced Asken. The grizzled soldier was pale. "What of the others in the medical tent?"


    "No other signs of infected."


    "Anyone else in the camp?"


    "Not that we know of, sir."


    "Burn it until nothing remains.” Goslin directed Tvalfager. "Keep everyone away from this place."


    People hastily stepped back as white-hot flames erupted from Tvalfager''s hands, obliterating the tent and everything in it. The pyromancer kept up his stream of fire until nothing remained but ashes and dust.


    "You did well," Goslin said, slapping the pyromancer on the back. He didn''t know what else to say. This could have been a nightmare. More could easily have been infected. They would have to be more vigilant going forward.


    They broke camp. The news of what transpired with the giant wolves and the strange infection spread like wildfire amongst the soldiers. There was no more joking and laughter. Instead fear marked their faces. Goslin knew that things would have to improve. He was certain they would, as soon as they bolstered their numbers with the troops to the south.


    A stench hit them a full half-hour before they made it to their allies’ camp.


    Goslin and the others discovered more of the giant wolves, dead, and surrounded by soldiers. There wasn''t a single survivor in sight. "The ones trying to enter our camp were a distraction. These men were their target." Goslin cursed.


    "How did they lose so many?" Gunnar asked. "We didn’t lose more than a handful of soldiers. Here, it looks like they tore through the entire camp."


    Goslin shook his head. It didn''t matter what happened. The soldiers were all dead and they needed them to march upon Fyrie. "Burn them, like we did with ours. We can''t chance the infection spreading."


    "They are so many. I can''t burn all of them," Tvalfager said.


    "Take your time," Goslin said. They had no other choice but to remain until each and every infected body was destroyed.


    It took two full days for Tvalfager to cremate the dead. He bled his spark dry every day, collapsing into a coma-like state until he recovered. Goslin and the others waited restlessly. It was too great of a risk to assist Tvalfager in the task. Just one infected soldier could doom them all.