The Lion and the Serpent - Chapter Four: Wrath

The smell of herbs was absent; its fine spiced and grassy scent missing from the breeze it once drifted upon. Winter was spreading across the highlands; the trees had finally shed all of their leaves, now looking bare and naked without their foliage. The long grass had become frost touched and stiff, while the ground was solid and icy, all the while neither rain nor snow fell. The plains had become lifeless and bare after a summer of violently passionate storms, great weeks of glorious sunshine, the coming and going of the spring wild flowers... finally ending with the autumn, when the trees shed leaves coloured vibrant reds and gold. The hills were void of any life this December, or so it would seem.

“My lord?” whispered a quiet voice from behind. Seiken stirred from the latest of his day dreams, distracted by his thoughts he had been quiet and distant the past three days since it had all happened. A small pained sigh escaping from his mouth, a jet of frosted air streaming forth.

“My lord... the emissary from Stormwind is here, he awaits you along with the rest of the clansman in the great circle” the young knight, stood silently waiting, wearing solid white and red armour. Bowing his head with respect, he lent upon his spear as he waited for orders.

Another who silently mourns; I can hear the trembling sadness in his voice. His loved ones are gone and he is lost. Another victim of this nightmare that came to life. Did he have to bury his butchered family like so many others? Did he have to pick apart that horror of a mound, to find only scattered parts of what was once his nearest and dearest...

Seiken coughed gently, lowering the gaze he had fixed upon the young knight, who seemed to look away uncomfortably as the Prince let his thoughts wonder.

“Very well knight, I shall be down soon, tell them I will be along shortly” he replied softly, shifting his gaze away from his vantage point over the highlands and down to the bottom of the hill where the great tri-stone monument stood, red clad figures standing around and within could be seen with the squinting of an eye.

The knight nodded slowly and obediently, running off immediately back down the hill to convey his message, while seiken took his time walking down the grassy slope at a meagre calm pace.

Why this numb feeling, why will it not go away. Blocking my senses and thoughts, fixating me on that image in my mind, their eyes... the pain in their eyes looking outwardly at me. By Thoradin why can I not focus, first I felt that great fire within but now all I feel is a deep frost inside, slowing me down, paralyzing my will, so cold.

The hill steepened as he reached the halfway point to the monument, his armour and silver sword rattling as he went across the rough ground. Between the towering tri-stones could be seen several new figures, clad in blue, gold and white. Stormwind had sent an envoy having heard the news that befell Strom and its people. The news had reached the whole alliance, provoking shock and disgust, not to mention fear. The Trolls had struck from nowhere, proving to the whole world they were a power in their own right, able to strike at the exposed under belly of the alliance without warning and at any time if they so wished. It was true, no matter how much the Lion had ‘shown them up’, defied, defeated or routed them in battle.

And Lysle... he has yet to be found, was he burned alive in one of the houses? Is he hiding, or taken prisoner? His fate would explain and tell much of the story to me, he must be found, he will be found.

A brief but deep noise echoed close by, just behind the closest colossal tri-stone he stood behind... the sound of a shrill clear yeti horn, signalling the meeting was about to start. Seiken passed under the arch of two stones, looking around, the horn caller bowing courteously to him as he lowered the horn form his lips. Here gathered was every man, knight, soldier, vindicator, troll hunter, Ranger, Lord and living citizen of Strom who could be. The gathering stood before a stone slab table, an improvised seat with its back near a pillar, looking down on the centre of the circle. Some hundred strong, their eyes locked onto Seiken, he kept silent, reluctant to look any of them in the face. He couldn’t stand to feel the weight of all that anguish. Though, he knew he had too.

Slowly taking up his position sitting on the stone chair, he drew his sword and laid it across his lap, looking down at its cold silver glow, Arador and Trohad came and stood at his right side. Both, were grim faced and quiet as they cast their gaze at the ground with cold fixation. The brazier in the centre of the grassy basin beneath the stones was no longer the bearer of a great inferno; the eternal fire shivered and flickered in the gentle breeze, small and fragile as if it could go out at any moment. Without command and in silence, everyone bowed their heads with mournful expressions.

Arador suddenly stirred, looking over the gathering. A small sea of red tabards and armour, silently staring up at the three. The morbid gaze of heavy hearts clear in their eyes, silently crying out for something, but what?

Arador coughed gently before quietly saying “I looked high ‘n low with the rangers, and found no trace of Lysle, or trella in Arathi”; Seiken looked up to him slowly, arching the brow above his silver eye.

“What of Ravenholdt?” he found himself asking urgently, needing to know his fate.

Arador swallowed, clear for all to hear before continuing... “None of his possessions can be found at the manor” he hesitated a moment, but slowly finished... “The Assassins say he left in a hurry the day before, packing all his belongs and... saying he was travelling south in a great panic”
Seiken narrowed his eye, considering his actions. The unimaginable becoming a possibility in his mind.

He wouldn’t of; he would never have dared, nor dreamed to of done such a thing as...

“And they also said he left having taken possession of a great deal of gold, which he wanted ta move with haste n’ into hiding” finished Arador, his lip trembling.

...betray us; he sold us out for gold? Simple, meaningless metal!? The future and blood of his own people!? For worthless, petty, dishonourable gold...
There it was that malice again. The fire erupting in the bottom of his spirit once more. His rage subsided through knowing it all could have been avoided, the possibility of it even being his own fault, but now, now he knew they had been betrayed by one of his own, through bribery and a greedy lust for wealth...

He stood slowly, propping his sword against the arm of his chair. As he did so, the crowd followed his movements, mirroring them by moving their heads to keep looking at him.

“He... betrayed us...” the words pushed themselves from his mouth with a cruel snarl and jet of frosted breath.

Trohad’s expression changed to one of hate, and anger. His eyes narrowing as he looked to Seiken from behind, his thoughts clear.
“You trusted him... and now look what has become of us” he growled with a vindictive tone.

Arador and Seiken looked to Trohad at the same time with wrathful frowns, but before Seiken could get a word in edge ways Arador snapped back...
“Hold ya tongue! Being angry nay gives you tha right to speak to ya lord that way!" Arador roared angrily, trying to make Trohad back down. He succeeded; the magi bowed his head in silence maintaining his disappointed frown.

Then their real thoughts became clear...

“All is lost!” echoed a voice hidden amongst the crowd. Everyone turning their heads to try and spot the source, shifting their gaze from the three Lords by the stone seat. Seiken snarled as the flame inside shrugged away his frost bitten exterior.

“Who said that!? Who dares to yield to despair!?” he yelled, baring his teeth while his silver eye looked down on each face one by one, each looking away in turn to avoid his gaze. No answer came, only a brief gust of skin chilling wind, the grass shivering as it passed over the ground.

Assert control, you have to assert control. Lead them into the serpents jaws and cut the snakes throat out from within... find the betrayer, feed him to the ogres while his screams are heard by all your enemies, let them know fear. Show them all we are not to be spat upon, that we are never to be dishonoured...

He let loose his frown, his expression becoming calm and still as he looked around the crowd again with his real eye.

“What would you all wish we do then? Now we know what has happened. One of our own blood betrayed us so that he may profit, while our loved ones suffered... what would you wish us to do?” he uttered slowly, though his words were not loud or yelled he could be heard clearly by all.

Silence gripped the gathering; they all hung their heads with what seemed to be shame. Not an utter could be heard. The jets of frosty breath exhaled from their noses and mouths was all the movement that could be seen.

“Fight!” came a voice suddenly, gruff and certain. Stepping out from the crowd came Antirius, standing proudly with his wolf mask and spear in hand. Heads turned sharply as all looked to him.

Seiken looked to him, narrowing his eye with interest, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“Those monsters killed my brother’s family, butchered his baby daughter, mutilated his wife and let his son live just long enough to convey a dammed message...” the voice of Antirius trembled with fear, but he kept on certain of what he had to say.

“And now my brother sits in Stormwind, your emissary, mourning for a family he could not protect... I will not stand idle when this could happen again, to us, Stormwind or any other ally o’ this alliance!” he finished the speech with certainty, raising his head proudly. The crowd looked to the wolf wearing Vindicator with almost astonished surprise. Though Seiken did not make any movement on his own face, he did listen carefully as silence came again.

He speaks only the truth you already knew, shrug off the cold inside, have the fire rise. We cannot sit idle while such an enemy is free to terrorise whoever it wishes, free of punishment or consequences. Their loved ones, our ancestors, and especially our allies expect us to act. And act we shall...

“And idle we shall not be!” the prince roared, tilting his head back to look up at everyone now in front of him, a fiery passion in his eye, both his eyes, real or not.

“We shall not allow such injustice to go unpunished, and forgotten. We shall do as we was born and bred to do for generations...” Seiken proclaimed firmly, looking around everyone. Arador in particular, and Trohad, smiled in anticipation of what was to be said. Their eyes a flurry with keen interest, fixated upon the Prince and listening to every word.

“We shall fight, and fight until our blades shatter, our shields break and our very souls are passed into the next world and the halls of our fathers!” he roared, a burning lust for revenge now in his heart, it fed him inspiration and the willpower to act.

“We shall not rest until justice is done! ...we may be few, but our allies, like minded as us, are many... we shall not ride into battle alone!” he finished triumphantly, his heart pounding with adrenaline, the anticipation for revenge swelling as his lungs raced to grasp air.

“And we shall always ride into battle with you!” yelled back a voice from the crowd, proud and positive. Stepping out from the centre of the mass of Arathorian soldiers came a knight clad in blue and white armour, his Tabard bore the emblem of a white dawn on a field of blue, surrounded by gold trim. He carried a simple long sword and Stormwind crest shield on his back. the black hair on his head and clean young face smiled with reassurance as he stepped forward, arms open... followed by four similar clad knights.

“Aarian! My friend, your coming here honours me in times such as this!” Seiken exclaimed to his brother in arms, one of his closest friends had come to help. His heart bounced with hope as the two hugged patting one another on the back.

“After all we have been through ‘Lion’, it’s the least I could do for you” whispered Aarian in his ear, before pulling away and patting Seiken on the shoulder firmly.

The two smiled, as the crowds faces turned to that of similar expressions.

“Your Ambassador told us what happened last night, I rode all through the early hours as fast as I could...” Aarian nodded reassuringly, smiling as he and Seiken kept an arm around one another’s shoulders in a visible show of almost brotherly affection.

“The council heard the story, there was pure outrage and shock displayed by all the councillors. Even the Dwarves and elves had a similar reaction. We are with you no matter what you choose to do. Rebuild, make a revenge attack or ...leave” Aarian nodded sorrowfully, expressing his sympathy with honest words.

Seiken looked at him with an arched brow, as if his words were alien or almost out of place. In turn Aarian looked back sensing he had said something wrong.

“Did I say something wrong friend?” uttered the young Chaplain slowly.

“Oh no, you just misunderstand what we Arathorian’s mean by revenge...” uttered Seiken, Aarian’s face turning to one of confusion as he listened on.
Seiken began slowly and clearly so that he could be heard by all, “our revenge won’t be something to match, nor a quick bumbling raid... when we go to war against such an enemy as trolls like these, We kill them, we kill them all!” he finished, roaring triumphantly. The crowd erupted in cheers of “Ah-hoo, Ah-hoo! For Strom!”

Aarian looked awe smacked, blinking as his mouth trembled trying to push a sentence through.

“Nobody has ever... succeeded against the Gurubashi on their own grounds, nobody..!.” He yelled in shock, a look of amazement in his face as if the idea was inconceivable.

“Nobody until now brother. For as long as we have the will, we shall find a way!” Seiken boasted with pride, looking back to the gathering as they kept cheering.

The knights with Aarian looked around in surprise at the cheering mob, unable to comprehend the proud boisterous behaviour they wielded all of a sudden, especially considering the circumstances these northern clansman had just endured. Aarian however shifted his expression from one of shock, slowly curling his mouth into a curious smirk.

“What do you need me to do?” the paladin spoke softly, his readiness to help still clear.

Seiken looked to him with a warm smile. Patting his friend on the shoulder he simply replied under the noise of the crowd...

“Return to Stormwind and gather the war council for a meeting three nights from now. I shall ride south to Stormwind with all our strength as soon as I can. When I arrive we shall set in motion something no enemy of the Alliance or Strom shall ever forget...” Seiken finished with a firm proud nod to Aarian, the paladin nodded back smiling with approval.

The crowd began cheering louder and louder to each other, “Ah-hoo, Ah-hoo!” over and over, the noise thundering. The horns of all manner of beast and creature were sounded with all the effort that could be blown into them, echoing over the hills for miles around, unified and spine tingling to any who heard. All the while in the background unnoticed, the eternal flame upon the great brazier grew. Inch by burning inch, a phoenix from the ashes of resurrection.

(( Yes! That's the spirit! Win, damn you! =D

What can I say other than... excuse me! *spirits off to read the next chapter* ))