Tides of Blood and Steel by Christian Warren Freed

pallet in the back of house. He was soon stretched out and snoring. The gentle crackling of burning wood soon accompanied him.
    “Isn’t he the lucky one,” Bahr commented.
    Taking a bite from a green apple, he tried to stifle a yawn. Only now did he realize how tired he truly was. The rush of adrenaline siphoned off, forcing him to realize just how old he had become. His body ached. The pain of losing everything finally struck. His estate didn’t bother him as much as the loss of the Bane . That ship had been his life for decades. And now it was gone, reduced to cinders smoldering in the harbor. Emotions threatened to get the best of him. Rage. Pain. Anguish and sorrow. All collided in a deadly cocktail that promised to rip him apart.
    “Are you all right, Captain?” Rekka asked upon seeing the distant look in his eyes.
    He refocused, noticing Rekka staring nervously at him. Conversation slowed to halt as all heads turned in their direction. Bahr struggled against a surge of helplessness. What was he supposed to say? The very title of captain felt like a dagger thrust into his chest. He was a captain of a rickety wagon and a handful of outlaws. Life as he knew it, treasured it, was over. The only place he had left to turn was to Anienam Keiss and his damned blood hammer.
    He feigned a smile. “Fine. Just thinking is all.”
    “We have all lost a part of ourselves,” Rekka told him. “Our only chance for survival is to band together. We need each other now.”
    Bahr fought to hold back a grimace. He alone had lost everything, not just some small token of memories. Easy for you to say . Bahr knew better than to voice his opinions here. Doing so would serve only to foment animosity among the group.
    “Something you said bothers me, Anienam,” Nothol said.
    Anienam smiled patiently as all eyes fell on him. The twinkle in his eye suggested he already guessed what was coming.
    Nothol took the silence as consent to continue. “You said that the book was merely a key.”
    “Of sorts,” he agreed.
    Nothol sat down, his mind racing through patterns he failed to comprehend. “If that is the case, what you are proposing to send us on is another quest.”
    The wizard exhaled a slow breath. All of his ideations were falling into place. All but one. Anienam still had no idea why the servants of the dark gods had chosen Delranan and Rogscroft to begin their return campaign. Strategically it made no sense. Both kingdoms were too far removed to be of any immediate impact. That lack of knowledge left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
    “I am not all-knowing, master Coll. As much as you would have me wave my hand and produce this token of power, it is beyond me to do so. There are rules to this game, even for me.”
    “Wonderful.” Dorl rolled his eyes. “So you’ve stood by and let us stumble along into this mess.”
    “Life is about the power of choice,” Anienam countered. “What good is a man without free thought?”
    Dorl wasn’t convinced. “I feel like a puppet, or worse.”
    “What are you saying?” Bahr asked.
    “This. All of this! Can’t you see what is happening? He’s engineered this entire affair to get us to do his bidding. The only place he is sending us is to the grave.”
    “I don’t think…”
    Dorl cut him off with a wave of the hand. “Quests are the sort of thing that most people in this room aren’t going to return from.”
    “Nonsense,” Bahr argued. “We have all been sent on adventures. This is no different.”
    “What makes you so sure?”
    Maleela shook her head. It was all falling apart. “How can any of us be sure?”
    Anienam Keiss said nothing. Patience and prudence were needed more than all else at this critical juncture. He sympathized with their suffering even though it was more perceived than true. They were all individually strong, but together they posed a threat that might even cause the Dae’shan to balk. Anienam sat back and waited for them to work