Thorik walked between Santorray and Grewen, while the Mognin carried Brimmelle and Avanda. Brimmelle’s feet had begun to bleed from the harsh conditions, and both he and Avanda had become overwhelmed by the heat. It was best for them to be carried and Grewen didn’t mind it a bit.
Thorik felt mislead by Santorray as he walked alongside him. “I don’t understand. How can you be the son of a demon?”
“What’s there not to understand.”
“Well, first of all, how is it that you failed to mention this bit of information in our travels?”
“It would have only complicated things.”
“Yes, because things weren’t complicated prior,” Thorik said with a bite to his words.
“My relationship with Ergrauth would have prevented you from trusting me, as it has so many others.”
“What is your relationship? If he is your father, why the bad blood? What did you do?”
“No one disobeys Ergrauth on anything and lives to tell about it.”
“Apparently that’s not true, seeing that you did both.”
Stopping, Santorray turned to show Thorik his back. “Do you see this scar?”
“I see a lot of scars.”
“The largest one. The one that cracked and broke several of my back blades.”
The thick deep scar ran from his left shoulder down across his back to his right hip. The blades in its wake were remnants of the powerful weapons that once were. “Yes, I see it.”
“He split me open and left me for dead.”
“Just because you disobeyed him? Who would have known?”
“Everyone. I held a position of great power here. I was the general of the Ergrauthian Elite, a force designed to destroy anything and everything in its path. We were not directed to keep order or to ensure citizens were faithful to Ergrauth. Our missions had a single result, death to whomever Ergrauth wished to be removed from the living.”
“And you refused to kill someone?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“A family member.”
“He wanted you to kill one of your own kin?”
“Yes.”
“That must be the most horrible crime.”
“No. Not supporting Ergrauth is the ultimate offense to all Del’Unday. Our punishment will take place in his namesake city.”
Thorik realized that something still didn’t add up. “But, Santorray, you once told me that the Del’Unday don’t take prisoners. Will we be executed once we arrive?”
“We will not be that fortunate, Sec. Ergrauth’s enemies are utilized to expand the city’s size.”
Thorik sighed. “If we are to spend the rest of our living days constructing streets and buildings, Brimmelle will not last long in this heat.”
“The heat will be the least on his mind, for as soon as we enter the city we will be led to the Gateway of Schulis. This passage will strip your flesh from your body and absorb your bones and muscles and spirit. By entering the gateway, your willpower will be muted and your obedience will be rectified.”
Thorik’s eyes had grown large during the Blothrud’s description and his face had tightened as though he was going to be sick.
Avanda and Brimmelle had been quietly listening, but now they shot each other looks of concern as they continued to listen to the discussion.
Grewen’s stomach groaned from hunger as he grinned at Santorray’s comments. “Leave it to the Del’Unday to strip a man of his flesh and bones and then still expect him to follow orders.”
Santorray growled. “You disrespect my culture?”
“Far from it,” Grewen said in a light-hearted tone. “I find it fascinating that an entire culture is based on fear. Whether it be fear of disobedience or the fear of some superstition giving you bad luck.”
“You will find out that this is no superstition. The gateway pulls you into the city’s walls and streets and roofs. You become part of the fabric of our towers and the building blocks for our statues. The city of Ergrauth is a combination of sand, water, and living tissue. The city is alive with tens of thousands of spirits following a single one who serves Ergrauth himself.”
“The city is living?” Avanda asked, trying to understand.
“Yes. The city grows and changes based on the Del’Unday’s needs. The crystal structures of the city expand when fed. But unlike anything you’ve seen crystallized, the spirits can move them slightly making them appear to be fluid solids. You will understand when you see the lost people press their faces against the walls and scream for mercy. But there will never be any for them.”
Chapter 44
Er’Que Dooma Badlands