The Red Horde: Story I Read online

wonder why this land was never colonized or conquered, all those stories about monsters and dragons in the north seem pretty silly now. Seems to me the only monsters are the red horde,” Verg said poking at the fire impatiently.

  “Well, there must have been a reason. The emperor, Gods rest his soul wouldn’t have allowed the north to go undeveloped without good reason,” Basner sniffed, quite sure of the statement.

  “I’m sure we’ll find out very soon if the red horde is coming north,” Verg Said. “Now, let’s all try to enjoy our dinner, our families, all those now dead wouldn’t want us to sulk. We must go on, now eat.”

  They ate their dinner and bedded down for the night as they had done every night since leaving Vir Durbel. There seemed to be a constant drizzle this far north, being out of the forest in a clearing the rain felt much closer. Everything had an uncomfortable smell and feel of dampness that one night by a fire could not remove. Sleeping under their canopy, they passed another drizzly night, allowing nature to douse the fire as they slept. They started again at first light.

  “At least we’re in the open for the first time in a week,” Basner said tying down the ox cart tarp.

  “True, but it looks like we’re headed back in,” Verg said motioning with his head to the forest line across the clearing.

  “Let’s go girls! We haven’t got all day!” Rega snapped from the top of the ox cart and laughed. Verg and Basner climbed aboard and they continued towards their unknown destination in the north, trying to stay ahead of the red horde.

  “Can you believe there are roads here, and through the forest even!” Rega marveled as she looked around and the ox cart left the clearing disappearing back into the green forest of Vadan. Verg couldn’t answer his sister’s question and he didn’t try. It troubled him as well; they had always been told the north was a wasteland, filled with all manner of beast. Here they were, days past the northern border, far into unknown lands and they had seen no monsters. Not even a village or person, nothing that nature did not create except this road, while lost in this thought about the roads, Basner snapped Verg out of it by hitting his shoulder.

  “Look, up there on the side of the road, it’s a man, looks like a vagabond. Maybe a traveler, like us,” Basner noted.

  “Be careful sister; don’t stop the cart unless I say.” Verg called to Rega who was driving the cart that day.

  As the wagon moved closer to the figure on the side of the road Verg could make out very little of him, he or it wore a long black robe with the hood pulled forward, revealing only a bushy red beard, pointed nose and a lit pipe protruding from the hood as smoke constantly swirled up and about the man’s face. The horses stopped immediately upon reaching the foot of the cloaked man.

  “I thought I told you not to stop,” Verg hissed at his sister.

  “I didn’t pull the reins, the horses stopped themselves!” Rega snapped back.

  By this time both stallions were nuzzling the cloaked figure as if they were long lost friends.

  “Greetings,” the hooded man called out in a voice that was neither young nor old simply powerful.

  “Good day to you sir, you are very far north I see,” Verg said, hoping to get some information from the answer to his query.

  “No Verg of Vir Durbel, you are very far north.” He looked up and into the eyes of Verg, his eyes seemed filled with a fire that actually made Verg gasp. He composed himself and spoke.

  “It seems you have me at a disadvantage sir, you know my name may I know yours?”

  “I will give up any advantage for a ride, if you would be so kind?” The hooded man asked, puffing his pipe and rubbing the horses’ necks.

  “Absolutely not!” Basner whispered in Verg’s ear. “We know nothing of this vagabond; he could be a sorcerer of the red horde.” Hearing such discourteous conversation, Rega had heard enough she didn’t know why but she had a good feeling about the stranger. She stood and spoke to the hooded figure.

  “I must apologize for both my brother Verg and our companion Basner; they lack manners and anything bordering on decency. We flee north seeking shelter from the red horde, Vir Durbel was recently destroyed and we have nowhere to go. We travel north as it is unknown to our people and have hope of starting a new life there, you are welcome to join us on our meager ox cart and please help yourself to whatever food you desire.” After speaking Rega sat back down, not too sure where her little speech came from, but it felt good.

  “Hail, universal queen! She speaks and the world listens.” The man said as he climbed into the back of the ox cart and sat himself in a corner. Drawing his knees to his chest and puffing his long wooden pipe as the three stared at him.

  “Crazy, definitely insane,” Basner said turning to sit where he could always keep the man in his vision.

  The man looked up and nodded at Basner as he puffed his pipe. “No dear boy, crazy is Rega thinking she needs shelter, the storm needs no shelter from itself.”

  For the next several hours and miles Verg eyed the man suspiciously as Basner glanced at him every now and again to glower in his direction. Verg began to watch the hooded man rather carefully and began to notice some peculiar things about him. The first being, no matter how long or how often the man puffed his pipe which was always, Verg never saw him refill it once. It was as though it was a bottomless pipe, it also seemed to always be lit, and Verg never saw him take fire to it once. Verg held the desire to ask about it within himself, for now. Also, it was raining as it always seems to do in the north yet the cloak of the man remained bone dry. Verg could tell a wet cloak when he saw one, he was wearing one. Thinking about these things his mind began to open, he began to understand just how much he did not know. They were raised on a diet of monster and magic stories about the north. With dragons and wizards and all types of Gods and guardians, it had all seemed so silly at the time, now looking on the man he began to wonder.

  “What is it you wish to know first Verg?” The man spoke in his stately and calm voice; he looked up locking eyes with Verg again.

  “Fire,” was the word that came to Verg’s mind when he looked into the man’s eyes.

  Basner and Rega were now chatting up front oblivious to the conversation between Verg and the cloaked man. Verg glanced at them; they seemed to be chatting happily.

  “Oh, don’t worry about them; they won’t notice us for quite some time. We can say what we wish.” The man spoke to Verg.

  “I suppose I should start by asking your name.” The man took a deep puff of his pipe and chuckled.

  “Names, yes names. Let’s see, I’ve had so many.” He stroked his blazing red beard. “For now, I think pipe man will suffice, your mind needs a label and it’s descriptive enough.” He smiled again.

  “Alright pipe man, are you from the north? Are there others like you, here?”

  The pipe man smiled a much broader smile and began to laugh, revealing gleaming, and perfect white teeth. This shocked Verg, everyone he knew had their teeth rotting out of their head. This man’s should have at least been yellow from all his smoking. The man chuckled.

  “You draw a line in the forest and think the world ends there? The arrogance of the people of Lural, Vir Durbel especially, had it not been for the red horde bringing extermination, I think nothing would have awoken them from their infighting politics.”

  This stirred a rage in Verg; he stood and pointed at the man angrily. “Our parents, our families, our homes were just massacred by the red horde and you speak to me as if it’s some joke! I will have justice sir.”

  Basner and Rega had turned and were staring intently. The pipe man didn’t seem surprised they were now in on the conversation.

  “What’s the problem here?” Basner asked, walking back to where they were sitting.

  “It seems you were right Basner, this vagabond is trouble, and he was just back here speaking ill of Vir Durbel and the slain inhabitants including our parents.”

  “Was he now?” Basner said, quickly unsheathing his
sword. The pipe man did not move, he simply sat contentedly puffing his pipe.

  “What do we do with him?” Basner asked the two others.

  “I say we take his head, show him what happens to red horde supporters,” Verg responded.

  “Time runs short,” the pipe man spoke as the horses drawing the ox cart once again came to a complete halt sending Verg and Basner flying forward. They pipe man stood over them as they looked up from their fallen positions. He no longer appeared to be the size of a normal man, but a giant.

  “Do you know who you are?” He spoke in a booming voice knocking Verg down as he tried to stand, pointing at all three of them. Everyone was too scared to answer, except Rega. She heard a voice inside of her, distinct from her own say, “Tell him universal queen.” Rega stood and announced.

  “I am the universal queen!”

  The pipe man looked at Rega and a wave of relief came over his giant face, Rega felt like she should know this pipe man. He began to come back to his normal size slowly. Sitting on the floor Verg felt a wind in his ears, and a pressure in his head followed by a voice.

  “Verg, finally you listen.” Too dumbstruck to speak, Verg sat and allowed the voice to speak through him.

  “Repeat what I tell you, now stand!”

  Verg felt compelled to obey, he stood, placed his own sword back in its sheathing and looked the pipe man directly in his fiery eyes. They were more recognizable