Page 17 - SagaOfBarak1

you, I have no intentions of buying a horse from that rogue..’ Hubert chuckled
as he wiped beer froth from his beard before answering the giant’s question.

‘Tom, once away from here bought the Greyhound Inn, which lies in the
village of Condercum. And this inn, well, it sits nestled by the great wall. From
this place the Greyhound is only a day’s ride to the east from here on a good
horse, or two days ride on a bad one.’ Barak on hearing this grunted then the ogre
gave a nod of approval at Tom’s choice of a new inn.
‘Good tavern, I know it well. Aye and Condercum, it is also a small but
growing garrison with many thirsty soldiers, very astute of Tom,’ the giant
muttered to himself. ‘But anyway besides all of that, drinking with Tom for now
it must wait..’ Barak of a sudden affixed Hubert with a friendly look. ‘Now you
hear this, and hear this now what I say to you, but most of all believe it Hubert..’
Suddenly the giant’s face now changed and this in but an instant, and now it
contorted into an angry grimace. And this just as suddenly as it had earlier broken
into a broad smile which had then cracked into laughter. ‘Upon my good
dragon-sword, I do swear here and now I will hunt these dogs down. Also, I do
swear these fools will all die screaming for their mothers or whatever other sickly
thing it was bore them into this savage world. ’ Barak promised this in all earnest
as he next put a huge reassuring hand upon Hubert’s drooped shoulder.

All of a sudden a cold shiver ran up the Briton’s stooped broad back. Hubert
had never for one moment thought he would or could have possibly felt any pity
for these men Barak would hunt down. But somehow now he did, for they were
all in his considered opinion no more than walking dead men. They each and
every single one of them were all men who were merely living on borrowed time.
And this was time these brigands had before meeting with what would doubtless
be a very violent, very sudden demise. Because simply for this very reason, not
even the wildest stormiest of seas, or a desert, however vast and barren. Nor a
mountain range, however high and snow-capped or the darkest deepest of forests.
All of these natural elements would neither slow nor deter Barak upon his blood
hunt. Nor for that matter even any dark demon or imagined demi-god could stand
against the wrath and power of the great war Lord. Oh no, oh no, these foolish
callous men who had brought so much sorrow and woe to the castle, whoever
they were, these men would all die screaming. And of that simple brutal fact
Hubert, well the guardian of the gate was in no doubt whatsoever. As sure as
night is dark and day is light and the old world turns each day as it does, these
fools would all meet their well deserved end by Barak’s massive broken hand.
Barak after a little while longer bade a much happier Hubert a good morning
then the slayer strode off purposely towards the King’s Hall making just a slight
detour on his way. There was so much to discuss so early in the morning and
Barak despite being a little travel weary was keen to be getting on with it.

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