“That’s a lot of vile-cats. How far did you go?” I asked as I loaded another half-dozen corpses into my storage space.

  “Not far,” said Kos nonchalantly. I knew he was lying, I’d watched them rushing around in a twenty-mile radius, clearing out all the forested areas as fast as they could. I had spent my time arguing with Mulius and casting Heal on him. He was back up to full health again, and most of his fur had grown back.

  “You should use aurox,” Mulius repeated yet again. “Why the cats?”

  “We’ve gone over this. You’re a brute-” he preened happily at the term, “- and cats will make the end result more nimble. Adding in claws and fangs rather than tusks can’t hurt either,” I replied, again.

  “Stupid cats. I like my tusks!” rumbled the titan as he stomped off to the south to find something to smash. The area was clear of the undead for now, so he was going to be disappointed. I sent Glimpse north to find the main wagon caravan, which included Fay and Kril, and was pleased to see that it would only be a couple of hours until they arrived.

  “What the hell use are his tusks, anyway?” asked Jandak.

  “I heard that!” echoed back from the receding titan.

  Jandak started chopping vegetables to go into a stew. Staying in one place for more than an hour and having hot food was a pleasant change from the norm in recent days.

  “Haylin will be here soon. You’ll find out if you're still in trouble!” teased Mune.

  “Calpakter’s second daughter is riding with them as well. Then we’ll see how much trouble you’re in!” Jandak shot back as he added the veggies to the pot. Kos snickered as he dumped a pile of thinly chopped aurox into the pot and added seasoning. Mune flinched and actually blushed.

  “This won’t cause a problem for the alliance?” I asked. Tribal politics were finicky, and knocking up a chief's daughter could be a headache down the road.

  “No! We want to wed, it will just depend on getting the old bastard to agree to it,” grumbled Mune.

  “Can I help? You’re one of my captains. Maybe if I had a quiet word?”

  “Thanks, Mond. I didn’t want to ask…” he replied sheepishly, and both Jandak and Kos snorted in laughter.

  “He’s a bit crazy in some ways, but he’s a good bloke, as he would phrase it, for his friends. You’ll speak to Calpakter on poor, scared little Mune's behalf, won’t you, mighty lord?” snarked Kos.

  “I will, brother. When you decide to try and find a wife, I’ll do the same for you,” I shot back with a grin. Kos sputtered and waved his hands.

  “I’m too young to take a wife! I’m too important to be offered up to cement an alliance with the tribes!” he joked.

  “So we should find you a nice lady Huskar instead, should we? Didn’t you once joke about being able to satisfy one of them?” asked Jandak innocently, and Kos shot him a dirty look.

  “I didn’t know how bloody big they were back then,” muttered Mune.

  They fell into more run-of-the-mill banter as bowls of stew were passed out and the warm smell of the food filled the air around our little fire. We joked and teased as we waited for the wagons to reach us.

  Watching from above, I observed the wide trail of wagons curve its way towards our position. They were going to miss us by a few miles unless the outriders noticed our fire, so I sent Glimpse down to land next to Fay.

  “Hello, crow,” she said. “I’m looking forward to catching up with you, husband. We’re on the right path?” she asked, and I had Glimpse fly up and repeatedly fly over her in a better direction. When the bird landed, he was given a lump of meat and a pat on the head.

  “We’ll head west a little more. I’m glad you’re all safe. Go on, now, bird! Go guard your master!” Glimpse cawed loudly and took off in my direction, providing a good reference for Fay, who could be heard yelling orders before the crow was out of earshot.

  Glimpse settled back onto my shoulder a few minutes later and looked expectantly at the bowl of stew. I fished out a lump of meat and passed it up to him, licking the juices off my fingers afterwards.

  “Got some messages to send by crow-mail, birdy boy,” I said softly as I put the bowl down and pulled a few pages of precious paper from my storage space, along with a lump of charcoal that had been sharpened into a very fragile stick. Getting used to my strength while trying to study the local written dialect had been challenging. The delicate sticks of carbon tended to crumble in my fingers.

  I scratched out a few notes. The first was to the Huskar commanding the fourth legion. They were planned to sweep to the east of our current position, but I wanted them to move in and join up with the first, second, and third. The next was to the fifth legion commander, a Huskar by the name of Harlod.

  His orders were similar: to reinforce the central position. When they joined us, we’d have five thousand Huskar Legionnaires plus twice that in nomad cavalry. Hellath was still a wasteland of the undead, and we’d need the strength to clear out the nomad's holy site. After that, the rest would trickle in as they swept the areas they’d been assigned, and then we’d move against Urkash in force.

  The undead would remain a plague for years to come on the steppe. Unless the brain were truly destroyed, the bits would continue to crawl or drag themselves about, attacking any living thing they stumbled on. I had a feeling the nomads would adapt; the zombies would just become one of many minor threats, like vile cats and bears.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  I sent Wilson off to go and lead the wagons in. All of my troops knew the bronze wolf was mine, so there was no chance of Wilson being attacked by mistake. He turned from his ongoing cull of undead in the south and sped off in the direction I’d indicated.

  We ate and settled down. A jar of yalk was passed around, but the alcohol seemed to do very little to us these days. The tang of the liquor was appreciated, and it chased away the chill as the sun began to set and the moons began to rise.

  The wagons rumbled in and within an hour, a huge camp was in place, the little fire the Fangs and I had used was at the centre of the mobile city. The bustle and noise of the nomad camp filled the air. I summoned the kings, chiefs, and the Legion tribunes. Three Huskar and a dozen nomads, all sporting wildly different haircuts, joined me, Kril, and the Fangs. Fayala sat next to me on her chair as the council gathered.

  “Once the two closest legions and their nomad escorts join us, we’ll have the strength to push onto Hellath,” I began after everyone was gathered around. The setting sun threw the giant’s shadows across us all. “We need to discuss what happens after that.”

  “It will take weeks for the furthest forces to join us,” said Pertabon.

  “Pah! The riders can cover the distance in days with fresh horses!” snapped a chief I didn’t know by name. He had a top knot. Usually, the hairstyle would clue me in to what his tribe was, but I came up blank on this one. I glanced at Kril.

  “Poklistun, the Legions are faster than the cavalry,” Kril ground out. “You think horses can outrun tireless monsters?” he snickered, earning a hard stare from the Huskar present. He just smirked back at them.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I cut in. “We’ll need our full strength together before we head against Urkash’s main forces. These undead are just throwaway troops meant to slow us down. He’s got far worse than we’ve yet faced.”

  “What nightmares has their king cooked up? I’ve seen Harvester wars before, but they’re never the same,” Pertabon rumbled.

  Building-sized creatures that can snatch up Huskar and grow larger when they eat things. Tens of thousands of regular troops. Probably thousands of people equipped with artefacts to make them spellcasters. Perhaps a hundred thousand undead,” I ground out. Gasps of shock came from the humans. Worried looks were exchanged, and fears were muttered aloud.

  “So nothing new. At least so far. We call those monsters Abominations. They are tough, but we’ve killed them before,” Pertabon said calmly, stopping the incipient panic among the humans in its tracks.

  “Are there any among your people who’d be willing to undergo something similar to Mulius?” I asked. He scowled and stroked his chin, his helmet held on one knee with his other hand.

  “Probably. Among the ferals, I’m sure you’d find a taker. Another mammoth hybrid?” he asked.

  “No. Vile-cat this time. It would make them stronger and faster. Mulius is all the brute we need,” I replied.

  “Hells right I am!” echoed from out in the plains. Just how bloody good was the mammoth hearing, anyway? I didn’t spend any mana to boost that sense in particular.

  “I can probably find some volunteers,” Pertabon finished, shooting an angry look to the south.

  “I’d appreciate it. The fourth and the fifth are marching through the night and should get here at noon tomorrow if they keep up the pace,” I said thoughtfully.

  “It might be worth considering transferring the clearing of the undead to the ferals and the nomads? We should concentrate the Legions to smash apart Urkash’s forces!” offered one of the Huskar tribunes.

  “It’s a good idea. If the enemy has monsters, like you said, we’ll need all their strength. We could whittle them down eventually, but why skirmish when you can smash?” offered Jagapan. He plucked out his steel eye and swished it in his mouth before replacing the orb in the vacant socket.

  “I don’t have a problem with it. You’re sure-” I reconsidered my question, “- Will it pose a threat to our warriors if the Legion is reassigned?”

  “Nah,” scoffed the chief with the topknot. “They can’t kill what they can’t catch.”

  “That’s fine then. Calpakter, I’d like you to join me privately. Fay, Mune, will you also join us in our tent?” I asked. Fay smiled and rose to her feet, beaming a smile across the gathered leaders of my armies.

  “You are a credit to yourselves and our cause. Please excuse us,” she said grandly. Mune had winced, not unnoticed by Calpakter, and was moving out of the crowd to follow us as we passed through the camp to mine and Fay’s tent.

  I went in and took a deep breath. The comforting atmosphere and familiar smells helped bleed away the anxiety of the last few days and what I was expecting to happen in the near future.

  Fay was right behind, and she snatched a kiss before moving to our bed and sitting down, spreading her bright red skirt out to conceal her legs. Mune and Calpakter entered a moment later. Mune went and squatted by the fire. The heat from the fire couldn’t explain the sheen of sweat on his brow.

  “What’s this about, Mond?” Calpakter began, smoothing his mohawk, free of the disruption that the passing tent flap had caused to his hair. “Why’s that pup shrinking away like he pissed in the bed furs?” Calpakter nodded at Mune.

  “Mune is my Fang. One of my first sworn warriors and hero of the Mondyn,” I growled.

  “My husband means to say that he has a proposition,” said Fay, smoothly stepping in.

  “What’s the nature of this proposition?” snapped Calpakter, splitting his glare between the three of us. Mune rose to his feet and moved to square off against the old chief. Mune was a few inches shorter, but he had received many more Souls and could beat the older man black and blue without breaking a sweat. The fact he was sweating so much already was ironic.

  “I wish to wed Naedeth. I require a suitable dowry, and in return, she will become part of my family, a high honour in light of our close relationship with Warlord Mond.” Bless him. He only stuttered a couple of times in that little speech. Calpakter’s fist flashed out, but Mune caught it easily and shoved him back, careful not to use too much force.

  “I’ve also received enough Souls that I can wipe out your tribe single-handedly,” he offered in a calm voice. Nice mate. Threatening to kill the rest of your future bride's extended family is always a selling point. I grimaced at him, but he couldn’t see my face. Calpakter could though.

  “Your lord doesn’t seem happy about it!” he said, pointing at me. Mune turned with a shocked expression on his face and glared at me accusingly.

  “I approve of the idea. I just thought Mune’s last speech could have been better phrased,” I grumbled. I moved over and rested a hand on Mune’s shoulder, looking down at Calpakter and smiling. “Mune is one of my heroes. He is a good match for your daughter and will treat her well. Fayala will know the reason why if he doesn’t!” I felt his muscles tense under my hand and chuckled.

  “He is a brave warrior of a noble family. Perhaps we could bring Naedeth into the coven? She would be powerful and secure,” Fay offered. Always spending my Souls, I grumbled internally.

  “I like it. In exchange for a suitable dowry, I’ll make sure she’s as powerful as the other witches,” I offered.

  Calpakter glanced at the three of us. For a tense moment, his narrowed eyes flicked back and forth, then he burst into howls of laughter.

  “You thought I didn’t know you’d been screwing my daughter?” He clapped Mune on the shoulder and led him to the fire. “I’ve known since you got back with the Legion you fucking idiot. I’m not averse to the idea, but before we get into the business of the dowry, I’m thirsty. Anyone got some yalk handy?” he asked as he plopped himself down cross-legged by the fire. I produced a bottle from my storage space and offered it to him as Mune and I sat down across the fire from the man.

  “Women shouldn’t be present for dowry-talk,” said Fay. “I’ll send for Atas. Ray, Mune, don’t agree to anything this old cockerel promises until Atas has had a chance to hear the offer!” She smiled warmly at me and swept out of the tent.

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