Page 5 of The Demon God's Desire
It won’t be a problem though. We’re tough and strong and the troops I command are well equipped to take on the challenge.
“Soldiers!” I call out, stepping out of the ship and onto the gangway. “We’ve got our orders. We are to march to Jurtil and we will arrive by nightfall!” I tell them. “Then we will stay there two days before we move onto our mission to overtake orcland and wipe out the enemy!”
My men cheer and I give the orders to march out. We’ve got thirty troops en route to the city and I lead my men, determined to make it by nightfall.
The desert heat is harsh, beating down on our uniforms with no mercy. It’s a difficult trek across sand and stone. We have to march past buttes and through valleys, over rocky terrain, and the men are starting to feel the fatigue after seven hours of marching.
“This is nothing!” I yell. “You’ve faced worse than this! You can get through this! Only twenty or so more miles to go!”
There’s more than twenty but I don’t tell them that. It’s unnecessary. If I can trek this, so can they.
By the time the sun is sinking into the horizon, we’re within sight of the city. It’s small, overwhelmingly eclipsed by the vast desert and endless sand around it.
“Sir, the men are wanting to know if we can stop for the night and make camp here, then trek the last bit in the morning?” Vythor asks, coming up to me with a red face and clothes sticking to the sweat on his body.
I nearly roll my eyes at him but refrain, instead, turning to address my men once more. “We’re within sight of the city!” I tell them. “We can make it these last dozen or so miles! We’re not going to rest until we’re there!”
My men are all ready to collapse but I know if we make it today, we’ll feel much better tomorrow. We’ll have a few days to relax before we get down to some serious ass-kicking business.
I hear a lot of grumbling but we march onward, pushing towards the city with a determined stride.
By the time we arrive at the city gates, it’s already late but we are welcomed with a rousing cheer. The people of the city are tired of living so close to an orc controlled territory and our mission to wipe them out is a welcome one.
The Lord of the city, Nokliso Tursuneth, invites me and those of higher rank to stay in his large manor home on his estate. The rest of the men will be housed by welcoming dark elf families.
We’ll be here for two nights before we move onward. Lord Nokliso ushers us inside, providing us with a large, sumptuous feast.
“Welcome to our humble city!” he says, clapping his hands as servant girls bring platters of meat and pitchers of wine out to serve us. The girls are dressed in flimsy, sheer robes and billowing pants.
They are designed to titillate. All I’m interested in though is getting some food in my belly and a place to lie down.
Lord Nokliso sits at the head of the table, on a comfortable satin pillow. I’m seated at his right hand.
“This is the spot of honor!” he tells me with shining eyes. “We reserve this for our best guests. We take hospitality seriously here in Jurtil.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, remaining polite despite my desire to be left alone. I’m exhausted and not one for making small talk.
“How was your trip?” he asks as I’m served by a girl with dark hair and violet skin. She gives me a long, appraising look as she sets down my goblet of wine.
“Long,” I tell him, taking a pull from the glass. “Exhausting. I’m ready to go to bed.”
“I understand that,” he says with a smile. “But you will be discussing the plans tomorrow with us, correct?”
Lord Nokliso is the highest ranking noble in Jurtil, which makes him basically an acting king. He probably expects that my actions here fall under his jurisdiction but my orders are from the high kings themselves.
“I have my orders,” I tell him as curt as I can be. I don’t want him getting any ideas.
“Of course!” Nokliso nods. “Of course. But I wanted to discuss what will happen with the orclands once the orc threat has been subdued. I was hoping that the kings would understand that Jurtil needs room to grow out here, to expand past our desert borders.”
I’m starting to see the bigger picture here. Lord Nokliso is angling for more land once we inevitably wipe out the orcs. I’m uninterested in his political machinations though. What happens between the khuzuth is not my problem. They can squabble over the lands and sort it out themselves.
I’m not sure why Nokliso thinks I have a say in what happens. He’s clawing at the wrong tree if he thinks I’m going to back him for more control of Tlouz though.
Dinner seems to drag on for eternity, with music and dancing girls performing for us, and more food than you could choke a dripir on. There’s even some kind of recitation of a long and ancient poem about the glory of the dark elf empire.
Apparently its tradition to have poets recite epic ballads during dinners here. This city seems like a thriving home for artists and craftsmen.
I feel out of place here as a soldier. I’m not into all that colorful nonsense. It’s so different from Pyrthos. Everything is different. Even the smell is different. There’s a heavy scent of spices in the air here.