The Crowned (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga, Book 6) by Jeremy Laszlo Page A

upwind.
    Moments later he caught the scent of Sara, and then again
the horses just after that. He was finally on the right trail. Tasting the air
as he ran headlong into the darkness, Borrik bounded upon all fours, dodging
through the trees like one of his feral relatives.
    * * * * *
    Mid-morning came and went, as the Dwarven army grew ever
nearer to the source of the smoke. Linaya rode in a near trance, having fallen
prey to the rhythmic pounding of the dwarves’ boots upon the soil. Scouts came
and went from the front lines to the wilderness again at regular intervals, and
she grew accustomed to vaguely marking time with their scheduled arrivals and
departures. She was hungry. No. Famished, and could not imagine what those on
foot must be feeling. They had been rushing all morning to reach the smoke and
find the cause for it. When the army came to an abrupt halt, so dazed was
Linaya that she nearly trampled the dwarves in front of her with her mount.
    Yanking the reins at the last possible second, she stirred
shaking the fog from her mind. Up ahead in the front lines, a pair of scouts
talked hurriedly with the king and Gumbi, gesturing with their hands like a
pair of raving lunatics. Apparently on the trail ahead was something big with
clawed fingers that bounced around like a bunny while waving its hands. To be
honest, Linaya found the scene rather amusing until she realized the ground was
still shaking beneath them.
    She had grown so accustomed to the vibrations caused by the
immense army she had not realized that they continued even after the troops had
stopped. Then she pieced the puzzle together. They were marching into a fight.
    Linaya watched as Gumbi raised a hand, making three motions
with his fist, raising various fingers each time. Quietly the ranks of troops
broke into three equal contingents and began moving as silently as was possible
for a hundred thousand armored troops. They split paths, each contingent
striking out in a different direction.
    “What’s going on?” she asked Zorbin.
    “We’ve stumbled upon some giants and be preparing to attack
them.”
    “Why are we attacking them? Couldn’t we go around?”
    “Giants and Dwarves be havin’ history, m’lady, we’ll just
call it a land dispute that’s been ongoin’ near a thousand years. Besides, the
men could use a bit o’ practice.”
    “Are they in Smirole?” Linaya asked, fearful that the town
had been slaughtered by the monstrous giants.
    “We won’t know till we gets there, m’lady.”
    With a nod of understanding, Linaya stopped her line of
questioning, allowing Zorbin to focus on the battle ahead. Riding beside him
slowly, she kept her eyes focused ahead, looking for any signs of the giants.
     
     
    An hour passed as the dwarves crept down to meet their foes,
and Linaya found the pace slow and grueling. She did not want the dwarves to
fight the giants, but the anticipation of the fight with the giants was
a hundred times worse.
    Loud deep chanting could now be heard, interspersed with
terrified screams and yells. The ground quaked beneath them and Linaya fought
to maintain control of her terrified steed. Something unnatural was occurring
ahead and she could not help but feel a bad omen approaching their foes.
    More minutes passed and finally the giants began to whoop
and scream, having been alerted to the dwarves’ presence. The order to charge
was given, and in unison the dwarves lowered their hammers from their shoulders
and began to pray to their god as they heeded the call to charge.
    Away the dwarves ran, calling out battle cries in their deep
guttural voices. Linaya watched as Zorbin called upon Gorandor with a
resounding boom, and he and Xanth sprang forward to join the fray. She knew she
had no place in war, and so followed at what she thought a safe distance might
be to simply observe the battle. It was not what she had expected.
     
    Breaking into the clearing ahead, Linaya was met by a roar
of rage that consisted of