“I’m pretty sure it’s this way,” Radic turned the map he held out in front of himself while twisting his head to follow it.

“What are you doing?” Erin grimaced.

“What does it look like? I’m reading the map.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do it like that.”

“Gimme that,” Callum snatched it from his hand. “Now, let me see.”

“Like you’re an expert,” Radic snapped. “I was doing just fine.”

“You were about to twist your head off. Actually, wait a minute. Callum, give it back to him. That might be an improvement.”

“Hey, guys,” Clay swallowed as he pointed. “Look. What is that?”

“Huh?” Callum said as the three of them turned their heads. “What do you know? Looks like we’re in luck.”

Through the forest, an undulating landscape of snow-capped hills lay; beyond that, the vague outline of stone roofs and pointed sculptures could be seen through the blizzarding weather.

“That could be anything,” Radic cautioned. “We don’t even know where we are.”

“Could be. But we’ve been marching in the direction of the temple for almost two days now, and according to this map, nothing else is supposed to be out here.”

“Don’t even know where we are? So, you were lost!”

“I found it, didn’t I?

“No, he didn’t, did he Callum? Does this really mean Radic’s directions were correct?” Erin groaned.

“I told you I was doing it right.”

“But you just said–”

“Quit yapping and prepare yourselves,” Callum interrupted, drawing his sword. “We have no idea what we’re going to find in there, and I’d rather we didn’t get caught with our pants down.”

“B-but you said,” Clay swallowed. “I thought it was meant to be abandoned.”

“It is,” Callum said. “Well, it’s supposed to be, at least. Whether it actually is or not, we’re about to find out.”

“B-but–”

“You sided with these two maniacs,” Erin said, pointing at Clay. “And you didn’t even consider that there might be squatters in the temple?”

“I–I–”

“Leave him alone,” Radic said. “He’s just a little confused.”

“Radic sticking up for Clay? I’ve seen it all now,” Erin groaned as she drew her sword. “At least I can die complete now.”

“D-die?” Clay stammered and swallowed again.

“Don’t listen to those two. Stick close to me, and everything will be fine. We grab the most precious loot, and then we’re out of here. None will be the wiser. Got it?”

“Y-yes,” Clay nodded and bumped into Callum’s back as he stepped toward him.

“Not that close, damn it.”

“S-sorry.”

“We really are gonna die, aren’t we?” Erin said, eyeing the group.

“Eh,” Radic shrugged. “You weaklings might. I got a whole saga yet to be written about my life.”

“A saga, really?” Erin rolled her eyes.

“You’ll see. Bards, yarn weavers, whatever you want to call them. They’ll be singing my name from here to across the sea.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Sush up and hurry up,” Callum waved them on, taking the lead toward the temple. “From here on out, no one speaks unless they really have to. Until we’ve made some distance from the temple, we’re in stealth mode, got it?”

The three others nodded, but Radic murmured something beneath his breath.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

**Imperator**

A knock sounded at Mark’s door. He was barely awake. Scented candles filled the room with luxurious smells he hadn’t experienced since his previous life, and the soft cushions and furs beneath his body, which still radiated heat from the spa, were like laying on a bed of clouds.

“Come in,” he huskily whispered, his lids fluttering open for a blurred glance toward the door before shutting again. “What is it?”

“The Body of the Goddess wishes to speak with you,” came a soft voice at the door.

“Now? Can’t it wait?”

“I-ah–”

Oh yeah, they don’t like me treating this so-called Body of the Goddess like a normal person.

“Forget it. I’m getting up,” Mark said, groaning as he pulled his noncompliant body up. “Just give me a minute.”

“Yes, of course,” the girl said, retreating out of the room as their eyes caught. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

Don’t say that; it might make me inclined to take my time.

Stepping out of his room, Mark tightened the strap of the silken robe that had been provided to him.

“You’re not going to wear your normal clothes?”

“What’s wrong with this?” Mark questioned, raising the loosely sleeved arms.

“It’s–um… nothing,” she bowed. “Right this way.”

These are probably considered pajamas, and it’s probably rude to walk around in them, but damn if they’re not comfy. And I’ll be damned if I’m not making the most of my stay here before I return to the fort.

Passing through the stone corridors, they caught Yelinda kneeling on the bear fur, holding some wooden toys, and playing with a couple of small children as they entered her impressive chamber.

“Body of the Goddess,” the attendant said, falling to her knees. “King Atlas, as you requested.”

“Thank you. You may leave us,” Yelinda waved dismissively without turning from the children.

“I have to say, I didn’t take you for a kid person. You gave a more stately impression,” Mark questioned as he took several steps closer.

“A kid person?” Yelinda turned to him with an amused twist to her brow. “More like the matriarch of a great clan. Perhaps the two are separated where you’re from, but here, contributing to the raising of the next generation is as important as writing laws. But I can’t lie; I liked how you said it casually,” she smiled.

“Well, I got plenty of that,” Mark flashed a toothy smile he didn’t know he possessed and then looked away as their eyes caught, his gaze wandering around the expansive hall that looked like it should have a nasty draft but was warm and comfortable. “So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“What do you think, Great King?”

“Great? I really think you should reconsider calling me that. I barely have a few hundred subjects. Hardly a great king. In fact, I’m hesitant to say it barely qualifies me as a king.”

“Yet you granted yourself the title.”

“I am very much the pragmatist. We needed a ruler, and king sounded better than the alternatives.”

“Right, it makes sense. So, Mr. pragmatic King, what do you need now?”

“What do I need now?” Mark’s gaze fell back on the beauty that looked up at him from the furs. “An army. A big one.”

“That’s unfortunate. That is the one thing I don’t have. Although, I might be able to help.”

“You can, can you?” Mark’s brow perked.

“I don’t know how much you know about the western lands–”

“Very little,” Mark interjected.

“Right, well then. These lands are different from those you are used to in the east. The populations here are even sparser, and the settlements smaller. Unlike the dozens of warring clans that now try to bridge their differences so that they might form an alliance in the east to defeat the wargs, we have always had a degree of cooperation, albeit somewhat informal. You see, our clan is the clan of clans. This makes me the matriarch of the Wamandy Clan and of all the clans in the West. But tame your thoughts. This relationship is different than those in the Imperium and beyond. I do not call myself a queen; their chiefs do not follow my orders. However, they do bow to me when the time comes. They offer tributes and rely on my voice when arbitration between clans is required. In return, my Sabretooth Warriors keep the peace across these lands.”

“So, you do have an army?”

“Not quite. Sabretooth Warriors are as much a free warrior caste as they are soldiers. Prospective children from across the entire Western Region are brought here to train with the master warriors and elevated as Sabretooth Warriors upon the completion of their training. These warriors then set out across the land to maintain peace and defend small and weak settlements, always maintaining their highest loyalties to me. However, they still become retainers for the local clans they serve.”

“So, can we call upon them or not?”

“We can. I can request a gathering, though it will take several days, if not weeks. However, autonomy in the West is a virtue we hold dear, and I cannot force them to hand over their retainers to you. We must convince them that it is in their best interests.”

“Are the wargs not convincing enough?”

“You don’t understand this land. We are so separated from the East that many do not see our problems as shared. And while the wargs have attacked me here in this temple, they have not yet attempted a full invasion of the west. Likely, they are saving that until they have defeated the federation of clans in the east.”

“Surely they can see what awaits them.”

“Don’t be so confident in that. These people have lived generation after generation, removed from the outside world. Wars and destruction that plague most of the world rarely find their way here, and as such, it’s not so surprising to find that the people would rather not risk their lives for others.”

“So, what do you suggest?”

“We need to convince them that they are part of something bigger. That they stand at the precipice of a new beginning. We need to give them something that will fuel their pride.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. We can use their pride and instincts to convince them of the cause. But how do you suggest we do that?”

“It’s simple, really.”

Mark nodded expectantly, eyes locked on the young matriarch.

“We bind our houses through marriage.”

“Huh?” Mark stammered and tilted his head.

“You and me. We build the foundations of a real kingdom. Something worthy of the name. Something even great clans will bow to and offer their allegiances as vessels. Something with the potential to unite the people of this land you call the Frontier.”

Mark swallowed.

Marriage? That hadn’t been on my to-do list.