He glanced up at the sky, noting the dark clouds. No stars tonight.
Perhaps a storm.
He grinned sinisterly at the thought. Humans were not equipped for such things. They would struggle in the snow, becoming slower. Perhaps it would impede their ability to attack at all, which would give the giants the advantage.
Neve slipped through the tents surrounding the town of Mizar. A wall of protection for its inhabitants. The pristine snow had been trampled down, dirty and bloodied in the last day.He glanced to the north of Mizar. It had survived most of the damage from the Asterans’ trebuchets, despite their best efforts.
He sighed when his large round-domed tent came into view. There were too many lanterns lit inside. The war council awaited him.
Olwen paced outside, opening and closing his fists. Neve paused to watch his friend try to calm down from the adrenaline that made him fight like a demon.
“Is it bad?” Neve asked gently.
His best friend snorted and pounded on his wide bare chest with a blue fist. “My hearts are racing.” His eyes held the white gleaming around the edges still.
Translation—the berserker had not released him yet.
“Come inside when you are ready.”
Flyka swept open the tent flap and held it for Neve. He spared Olwen one last look before stepping inside. Warmth greeted him immediately. A thick fur rug cushioned his feet as he met the eyes of the advisers standing around the rectangular table near the center of the tent. Lanterns hung from the support beams, bathing the room in warm light. He kicked the snow from his boots before striding to the table.
All he wanted to do was rinse the stench of death from his skin, eat a warm meal, and then crawl into his bed that rested in a nook in the corner and sleep without nightmares.
The fatigue of the last few months was catching up to him.
War was exhausting.
So is losing your mate.
He clamped down on that thought and willed it away. Neve would not think of her. She was a traitor. Nothing more.
Flyka slipped in behind him and closed the flap, cutting off the cold air.
He laced his fingers behind his back so he was not tempted to sag against the table like a weakling. “What news do you have for me?”
Olwen’s second-in-command, Vidielle—a short curvy giantess—crossed her arms. “The good news is that our scouts have reported that after today, we have managed to push the Asterans well past their border,Reillov.”
And the bad.
Her face soured, and Vidielle stabbed a finger at the map near the Sapphire Mines. “Some of their soldiers have set up camp around the Sapphire Mines. They are proving difficult to root out because they keep hiding in the mines.”
“Like rats,” Olwen spat as he stepped inside. He shook out his hands and moved before the woodstove at the front of the canvas tent.
Neve glared at the yellow crystals that sat on the map representing Astera. He had given the human kingdom the mines in the first place but not the surrounding land. They had broken his treaty, and thus the mines reverted to Loriia. In the long run, the mines were not worth much. All the giants’ true wealth was in the northern part of the country, hidden away from greedy human hands and ambition.
That being said, he did not want Astera to gain one drop of wealth from any Loriian mine. Even if it was only from gems that broke too easily. Like the sapphires in the mines near the border.
“The mines are ours,” he nearly growled, releasing his hands and gripping the edge of the table.
“Agreed,Reillov,” their calculating strategist Abeo said, stroking his green-and-silver beard. His eyes narrowed on the map. “We can’t fight a horde of rats. We must smoke them out.”
Neve blinked slowly, an idea forming in his mind. “We let them keep the mines.”
Olwen paced by the stove, his steps gradually slowing. “What kind of idea is that?!”
He ignored his commander. Thevalloswas still worked up.
“They cannot have our land,” Bacti challenged with a toss of his hair. “You would let them steal from us? Maybe you have become a little human yourself after spending so much time with one.”
