Champions of the Apocalypse Read Online Free Page B

the heart of the Raiders’ plans. If we can work out a way to avoid the sickness I am sure an expedition could follow the track and finish them off, once and for all.”
    Lord Galan turned his head in disagreement.
    “The Raiders are not the real issue, they are still small in number and are more of a nuisance than a real problem. I am much more concerned with who is encouraging, or perhaps even aiding them in their actions, and I suspect the Brotherhood is involved. They have been spoiling for a fight for many years now and they have never been happy with the primacy of our House. These Raiders over the last year have weakened us yet the Brotherhood’s lands seem safe, why is this? You saw no bodies from the Brotherhood, yet they blame us?” he asked rhetorically.
    Lord Galan walked to his window and looked out across the town. A number of people were walking, going about their daily business. He noticed a few riders making their way through the main street. He turned back.
    “I sense dangerous times ahead. Mobilise the reserves and strengthen the border. I will send messengers to the Houses for a conference. It is time for the other Houses to hear of this and my suspicions about our neighbours to the East. If my suspicions are correct, the Brotherhood have a long-term plan and you can be sure it will not paint us in a good light with the rest of the League.”
    A banging sound from outside indicated the guards had a messenger. Two armoured men escorted him into the chamber. The messenger, in the uniform of the Brotherhood, walked ahead and knelt before the Lord Galan. As he approached Gratus stepped forward and intercepted the man. He had much experience with the Brotherhood and his suspicions were often correct. The messenger lifted his arms, submitting to a search that yielded nothing of note. With a grunt, Gratus stepped aside and let the man move a step closer, he then dropped to one knee, acknowledging the position of Lord Galan.
    With a movement of Galan’s hand, the messenger rose and spoke.
    “Lord Galan, I bring word from the Brotherhood.”
    “Why do I think this isn’t going to be good news?” said Ulric sarcastically.
    Lord Galan indicated to the man to continue.
      “The Brotherhood demands a Contest between our lands!”
    “What?” shouted Lord Galan.
    “With the death of Master Lar, which the Brotherhood blames on your negligence, it has been agreed you are unfit to lead the League.”
    The Master started shouting, his anger bursting into a rage.
    “How dare you! You will suffer for this outrage!”
    Ulric gave a signal and the two guards escorted the messenger outside.
    “We will march!” cried Lord Galan.
    “Father, we cannot afford war, none of us can, we must stay calm,” pleaded Synne who until now had remained quiet.
    “What do you know of war?” said the Master with a snort that he instantly regretted.
    “Synne is right father, a war with the Brotherhood will leave us open to attack by the rest of the League. We need to maintain the agreement or we will suffer the consequences,” argued Ulric.
    “The agreement is already broken!” barked Lord Galan.
      “Only if one House declares war, Sire, what of our agreements with the other Houses? The Contest assured us of primacy before all the Houses until the next Contest,” said Synne.
    Lord Galan took a step back and looked around the room as though he was looking for some item he had been missing for days. He paused and then looked back to his children in confusion.
    “With Master Lar dead the Brotherhood must choose a new leader. Part of the agreement is that a new leader may call for a Contest, it is the law.”
      “A Contest, but why should we agree to it?” asked a confused Ulric.
    He paced the room, trying to find answers.
    “We are already supreme. We have nothing to gain and everything to lose. If they win we will have to swear fealty to them for the next ten years,” said Ulric.
    “True, but the law allows for