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The tone and writing changed. The script was shakier than the previous sections.
I know not what we fought today but it was fierce. It came at us suddenly, and Keol swore the beast was invisible before it pounced. I believe him. It shifted colors as we fought, taking on the hues of the things around it. Its claws were as long as my hand, its fangs fearsome. We lost Jir and Limas to it. I dealt the killing blow. Tonight, we eat meat.
The journal skipped a few days, or so it seemed, for when it began again it seemed as if some time passed.
The warlord is displeased by how many we’ve lost. For every monster we eliminate, we lose two to three men. These are not the bears and wild cats we are used to hunting. These things like killing. They care not that we outnumber them, nor can we seem to find where they’re coming from. The warlord is angry at our failure. He executed our lieutenant for daring to say we need aid. I have a new lieutenant now and he is leading our battalion back to the mountains. A chance to increase my count. I’ve taken out seven of them already.
Again, time slipped by for the next entry stated:
We’ve found where the beasts are coming from. Beyond Risead Pass from the mist land. None who enter have ever returned, and having fought the beasts that live there, I now understand why. What has made them leave their territory? And how can we stop it?
Knock. Knock.
The interruption brought a frown as she’d finally hit an interesting part.
“Fionna, are you in there?” Kormac asked loud enough to be heard through the door.
If she didn’t answer, would he beat it down? Probably.
She left the book on the table and opened the door to find Kormac looking stiffer than usual in an all-black ensemble. “Warlord, how can I assist you?”
“Dinner is served,” he announced.
“Oh. I didn’t realize it had gotten to be that late. I was reading Airiok’s journal.”
“You have confirmed it was his?”
She nodded. “That or someone of his name. Early on he lamented about the fact his father didn’t name him something more worthy.”
His brows rose. “Airiok is the most noble of names. So noble few have ever dared use it.”
“During his epoch, though, Airiok was not yet known as the destroyer but rather the horse mucker’s son.”
The revelation rounded his mouth. “No. He was a warrior.”
Her lips curved. “Later, yes, but your mighty destroyer started out as the son of a shit shoveler.”
“You might not want to mention that to anyone else. He is a hero to my people, and they might not take kindly to an outsider mocking him.”
“Hardly mocking but rather impressed, considering his reputation now. From stableboy to warlord.”
“Not just warlord,thewarlord. He was the one to unite the territories under one rule.”
“Given how your people don’t like change, I’m surprised they allowed it.”
His lips twitched. “He wasn’t called destroyer for nothing. He ruled with a very firm fist, according to history.”
“I’ll want to see those stories for comparison to what his journal claims.”
“Later, first we must endure this dinner.” He offered an arm, and she hesitated a second before placing her hand on the thick brawn of it.
It led to a fluttery feeling in her stomach. Was she getting ill? She certainly felt a tad lightheaded.
They headed downstairs, drawing stares and whispers. She wore a wider smile than usual as she murmured, “You know they think we’ve just come from fornicating.”
“Most likely.”
“Don’t you care?”
