A War to End All by Michael R Fletcher EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Michael R Fletcher
- Language: English
- Genre: Action & Adventure Fantasy
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- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Those whom you slay will be as your servants in the Afterdeath. Die
with your boots on, and keep a few coins stashed in those boots. Die with a
weapon in hand and two more in easy reach. For when you pass from this
world, you’ll be glad of the things you take with you.
—The Warrior’s Credo
“It’s all gone to shite.”
Wincing at his foul language, Morgen knelt in the mud outside the
shattered cabin. For this one brief moment he cared nothing for the filth.
The landscape was a blasted plain littered with corpses. Limbs tangled in
the thick reddish muck, bodies weeping pus and blood and shit into oil-slick
puddles. Some were ruptured, as if something had ripped its way free from
their chests, others mangled and crushed by massive stones or thick roots.
Still others were black, their cracked flesh leaking clear fluids, empty eye
sockets staring at the clouded sky.
Inside the cabin, an abattoir. He’d only risked a glance, but it was
enough to send the meagre stew he’d had earlier erupting from his gut and
landing in a hot pool at his feet. Stehlen lay dead on the floor. Unbelievably,
Wichtig had defeated her. He might be the self-proclaimed Greatest
Swordsman in the World, but no one killed like Stehlen.
A young Swordswoman lay near the Kleptic, her throat sprouting a
blade. Loops and ropes of horse intestine hung like bunting over the scene.
Wichtig and Zukunft, the Mirrorist Bedeckt had travelled with,
camped nearby. Having murdered him once and been responsible, at least
obliquely, for the death of his friends, Morgen couldn’t face the
Swordsman.
Bedeckt was my friend and I murdered him. He was my friend, and
he would have betrayed me for the slightest profit.
Morgen scowled at Bedeckt’s corpse. You saved me and I sent
people to kill you.
Fitting, somehow. The old man would have understood, if not been
exactly pleased.
Dying, Bedeckt broke the world with his final words. For an instant,
his iron sanity defined reality. It shouldn’t have happened. Everyone knew
the sane were powerless unless united in faith.
Morgen moaned, a sound of pure misery.
This is my fault.
“Bullshit,” Nacht said, stepping into the ruined farmhouse.
He’s left the mirror. A bad sign. His Reflection grew in power.
“This is Konig’s fault,” Nacht added. “Even now the bald shite plots
against you.”
“Why? I am his god.”
“He made you in his image and he hates himself.”
“You lie.”
“Do I?”
The Reflection offered nothing more. Was Nacht telling the truth?
Was Morgen being manipulated?
Morgen’s fists clenched, blood dribbling through the fingers of his
right hand. “It’s you who plots against me.”
Nacht smirked. “No need for crude plotting.” He gestured at the
carnage surrounding them. “Life is imperfect and war a messy, chaotic,
flawed endeavour. If you attempt it, you will crack under the strain of trying
to make it otherwise. If you hand control of your army to me, you will
remain pristine, unblemished by the taint of death, but I will gain power.”
Nacht flashed Wichtig’s smug grin, gesturing at Morgen still kneeling in the
muck. “I’ve already won.”
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