Butcher of Gadobhra Chapter 446 (Patreon)

Callendish Maer, the newest member of the Winter Council, High Lord of Ice, and commander of Winter's forces in the Province of Grultain awoke on a sunny winter's day. His perspective was odd, only showing him the backside of an ogre as he bounced along on its shoulder. Confused, not knowing where he was, and lacking in many social graces as do all Ice Wizards, his reaction was to be expected.

"What is going on? I demand you put me down at once."

A deep voice said, "As you wish." The ogre threw him thirty feet to land in a puddle of snowmelt and mud.

Callendish came out of the puddle wiping his face, and furious, "Do you know who I am? I will flay your skin from your bones."

Bronk looked at him, raising one eyebrow, and cracking his large knuckles, "Oh, will you? Excellent. Give it your best shot. I'm hungry and have been packing your worthless carcass for two days." He took a step toward the Ice Wizard, who underwent an amazing change of heart.

"Bronk? Why are you here?"

The ogre grabbed him with one hand, crushing his chest and bringing him close to his mouth where he could bite off his head. "As I stated, carrying you. More specifically, saving you from capture as you lay on the floor, sleeping under the influence of Black Poppy dust and allowing your minions to screw up a perfectly good trap. Now, you may grovel, or be lunch. I really don't care."

"Ah, well, if you don't mind, I'd prefer to grovel at your feet, beg your forgiveness, and do what I can to stay alive."

Bronk threw him at his feet, "Fine. I actually have a use for you, other than my belly. So get on with it."

A quarter of an hour of groveling later, Bronk thought the lesson in humility in the face of destruction had been understood. "Enough. We need to get going. There is a farm with cattle over this hill. I specifically didn't eat them when traveling to visit so I could have a snack on the way back. I anticipated a fine dinner with you, chilled wine, and listening to the screams of the warmlander mages trapped in their rockpile. Imagine my surprise to find the Dragon had departed, the weather had changed, and a clever trap had become a losing battle. Your presence could have turned the tide, you know. The only bright point of this day was seeing the catapults in action. They were used splendidly with clever enhancements to their ammunition loads. I was going to use rocks! Traditional, but so limited when one considers the volatile liquids our alchemists can produce."

"We lost? That seems difficult to believe based on the numbers and our superiority in a cold environment."

"Callendish, do you know why the council screws up so many times when we go to war?"

"I do not and was not aware that we did. I assume you can enlighten me?"

The ogre stopped, and put his face an inch in front of the Ice Mage, yelling, "Because wizards suck at strategy, are overconfident, and don't pay attention to the small details!"

Wiping spittle from his face before it froze, he conceded the point, "Ah, I may have been lax in looking at the reports, but I had this most amazing book I was trying to research..."

"Yes, I found it with you and brought it along."

"Oh, excellent. Hand it to me please, I think I have the lock figured out and can plunder its secrets."

The ogre put his palm upon his face, "You really don't get it, do you? Or is the thing enchanted? Possibly it only affects the clueless?"

Callendish wanted the book, passionately. "I don't understand. Why aren't you letting me have it?"

Because it's a trap! By Ymir's beard! Look at the title!" Bronk held the book titled: 'The Secrets of Frustrating Idiots and Confounding Your Enemies. Compiled editions 1-17 by Dr. Damien Franklin'

"Oh...truly? That is quite rude, even by warmlander standards, and devilishly clever. Who would have thought them capable of it?"

Bronk put the book in his pack and away from Callendish's twitching hands. "Yes, well the next time you find something that belonged to Doctor Franklin, you will know to be more careful. It's always a trap with that one, and I believe the rest of his family needs to be re-evaluated as well. They may be more of a threat than we believed before."

"Interesting, and you say that, why?"

"Because two dozen of them battled to destroy your army, and two in particular were in the group that killed Shurdhi."

The Ice Mage stopped walking. "Shurdhi? Dead?! You are mistaken. It is beyond them to kill an Ice Devil. Shurdhi is more powerful than the council."

Bronk backhanded him, knocking him into the mud. "I told you they killed Shurdhi. Like you, and the rest of the council, the cyclone was overconfident. His weakness was he knew he couldn't be beaten. But he let one hero on a winged steed hurt him and chased them into a trap where he was bound and destroyed. His winds were scattered, his ice melted, and chains of earth, fire, and smoke bound him and stole his power. Then the ruler of this land executed him. We are lucky they killed Shurdhi and didn't bind him to use as a weapon against us."

The ogre picked up Callendish Maer, wiped off some of the mud, and set him on his feet. "So, that is one windbag dead, and we only have to find a way to kill the other and we can be free of them. This is where you come in."

"Ah, I wondered why I was still alive."

Bronk looked at him, "Yes, let us discuss how you stay alive. You are now on the council, and when the vote comes up, expect you were part of the voting block that will put Glacia into power and not Ortheus. You will vote for Glacia, enthusiastically. The voting will sadly end in a three-way tie between myself, Ortheus, and Glacia. Arguments will start, but you will stand and make a suggestion. You will say that Ortheus is too ineffective a leader, and I am a simple beast that knows spells. Glacia is the war leader that Winter needs, and to prove it, you demand she is given our support and an army to march against the greatest fortress the warmlanders control. I will pound the table, use one-syllable words, and back your plan."

"You wish Glacia to win or to lose."

"An interesting question, but winning is much better. True, she will gain control of the council, but we will win a mighty victory, consolidate our power, and gain valuable resources in the Barony that Rowan Keep protects. She'll kill Oththeus, use the two of us as her minions, and life will be good. When she inevitably overreaches and goes too far South, she will die and we take over. And by 'we', I mean myself with you as my lackey. Don't worry, I'll leave you to your research and you can vote by proxy."

Callendish considered this. "I notice your plan hinges upon my ability to cast a vote in the council, and yet, I seem to have just lost a major battle."

Bronk patted him on the back, gently. "Lost? Why no, you nearly won, and have dealt the warmlanders grievous wounds! You freed the great Drake to raise hell in the South, destroyed their mana system, spread fear throughout the empire, and killed dozens of their fire mages. You only lost an army of expendable creatures. We'll make more."

"And Shurdhi?"

"Easy, tell the truth. The great cyclone was in the sky above you for weeks, observing. He was there the last you knew, just before you headed north to bring word of your victories. Did you see him fall?"

"Hmm, no, I only know from you."

Bronk smiled, "And I was never here, was I?"

"I understand, completely. And, I am recovered enough to make my way north. I look forward to you not killing me in the future, enjoy your snack."

Bronk eyed, the four nervous horses, trapped in the coral. "Oh, I will. Just as I enjoyed eating the farmer who owned them."

"I don't suppose I can have the book back?"

Bronk thought for a moment, "Only if you promise to not play with it, and give it to Glacia as she marches off to war."

"What a wonderful idea. She'll enjoy it as much as I did." Callendish transformed into a giant winter owl and flew north, not wishing to observe what came next.