by Brian Murray
“Fury, my friend, you have done well and earned my gratitude,” announced the Darklord.
“Thank you, Sire,” said Fury, stepping around and taking his place next to Chaos.
“Tucci, my young friend, I see you are well. I hope your rise to emperor does not affect our friendship?” asked the Darklord.
“My lord,” answered Tucci, bowing his head, “my home is of course your home. Without your help, I would not be able to make such a gesture.”
“Thank you Tucci, for your invitation.” The Darklord moved away from Malice and took Tucci’s arm. “Now, my friend, it has been a long journey, I hope you have arranged some refreshments for us.”
“Of course, come inside and you will see,” said Tucci, peering around at the three virtually identical warriors.
“Tucci, let me introduce my companions,” said the Darklord. “You have, of course, met Fury; and the two other warriors are his brethren, Malice and Chaos. They are warlords, our master’s personal guards, and command the same respect as I do.”
“Well of course, come my friends, there are refreshments for you all,” announced Tucci, swallowing his fear. He led the Darklord through the palace to the temple doors, guarded by more Dark Brethren. The doors opened, and the horror of what was to come sat huddled by the altar. Ten crying children awaited their fate. The doors closed behind the five men and the terror began.
***
Later that evening the men left the temple hall, where the polished marble floors and walls were covered in rusty red smears. They headed for their respective sleeping quarters to freshen up, as each man was stained with the sacred blood of innocence. An hour later, the men waited in the Chosen’s private dining room. Tucci, Malice, Fury, and Chaos sat silently around a marble table with wine and fruit set out for them. The door opened and the Darklord entered, wearing his usual attire, a flowing black robe with a cowl over his head. He took his place at the end of the long table, facing Tucci.
“Before we start, I would like to thank our host for his hospitality,” said the Darklord.
“My home is yours,” responded Tucci with a sly grin as he sucked a black crystal.
“Now, let us get down to the business concerning your empire. You have taken your father’s throne and for that I congratulate you, young Tucci. However, now we must show your people the rule you intend to impose. I will send out my Dark Brethren to round up the rest of those degenerate priests and slay them where they hide, and kill those giving them sanctuary. Hiding like frightened children just shows how weak they are and we must eradicate the weak from your empire. Furthermore, we need to hunt down any Imperial Guards who remain alive. Many of them have been traitorous over your appointment and this must be quashed.”
“I agree, my lord.”
“Good, now we need to discover how loyal your people are. All of your rich nobles and businessmen must make tribute to you. If they do not swear absolute obedience to your throne they will disappear, and their estates forfeited to you. This includes everyone, from those in the capital to the traders who own ships at your ports. I also want your army marshals and admirals brought before you. If they do not pledge absolute allegiance, they will also be disposed of. Your reign must demand total allegiance, total loyalty and obedience, no exceptions, nothing less – do you understand me?”
“Yes, and I agree with everything you have decreed,” answered Tucci, his eyes now wide with drug-induced excitement. “When do we march against the infidel; the Rhaurns?” he spat out.
“Patience, my young friend. You do not have to go to them, as they will come to you.”
Tucci’s lopsided smile broadened.
“Now I must rest, I will leave you gentlemen to go through the details.” The Darklord rose and left the room without touching the food and drink on the table, leaving Malice to start the discussions.
“Tucci, we must reinforce the curfew on the capital. All three bridges are to be blocked, and the city locked down every night, with only one bridge open during the day, so that we can monitor people’s movements and ensure no undesirables flee, avoiding punishment. This we will say is for security reasons. We must also ensure you have full control of the sailing ports. I will send men to each port to ensure that absolute security is in place.”
As the evening progressed, strategies were made and Tucci agreed with everything he was told to do, while adding nothing to the discussion.
***
Prince Zane arrived back in his room without detection and immediately summoned the captain of the Watch. It was well past midnight when Zorain arrived in the Prince’s private study, looking haggard, escorted by one of the Prince’s personal pages.
“Sire, I arrived as soon as I received your message.”
“That will be all,” said the prince to the young page. The boy left the room and the prince almost collapsed into his chair.
“Zane, I thought I looked tired. You, my friend, look as though you’ve been dragged through the sewers,” commented Zorain, crossing to a table and pouring two goblets of watered wine. The prince swallowed the contents of his goblet in one gulp, and held it out for a refill. Zorain poured more wine into the goblet, but before he could add any water, Zane started drinking.
“Zorain, I think your suspicions are correct,” said the prince, who went on to recount the tale of his journey out of the palace, and his pursuers.
“Zane, I don’t think it’s safe for you to venture out of the palace at the moment,” commented Zorain, his voice full of concern. He moved his weight to the front edge of his seat and continued in a hoarse whisper, “I told you I believed something was terribly amiss.”
“I now agree with you, but I need time to convince my father that there is a problem.”
“How are you going to achieve that, without letting him know you’ve been out of the palace without any security. You know he’ll be more than a little displeased.”
“Aye, furious. That’s why I need more time.” Zane paused for a moment. “Zorain, I need you to gather whatever information you can and write a report for my father.”
“That will be easier said than done, Zane. My group of informers is shrinking and I have no idea how many will be left come dawn. People are becoming fearful and fearful people don’t give information freely.”
“Then we have a problem.”
“Aye, that we do.”
Again, the prince paused to think. “We will meet the day after tomorrow and see if you have any more news. But tread warily, my friend. I have a feeling about this and it isn’t a good one.”
“Aye, so do I.”
The captain of the City Watch left the prince to his thoughts. Zane turned in for the night, without any answers, hoping a good night’s sleep would aid his thinking.
***
There was a knock on Zane’s door just after dawn and he managed a croaky, “Come in.”
The door opened and a young page entered. “Sire, his Highness the king would like you to join him in his chambers straight away.”
“Thank you, I will be along shortly,” answered the prince, rubbing his gritty eyes. Moments later, Zane was dressed and being escorted to his father’s chambers. The page knocked on the door and the king’s muffled voice was heard. “Come in, Zane.”
The page opened the door, stepping aside so Zane could enter the room.
“Father, you wish to see me?” asked Zane, bowing.
Inside the room, General Brooks stood next to the king, studying a map laid out on a large desk.
“Zane, good,” said the king, peering up from the coloured map. “The general and I were having a discussion about the Evlon situation and we have decided it would be appropriate for you to lead a company of Royal Lancers there. I think the presence of royal blood and my Lancers should resolve any issues the baron may have.”
“Thank you Father, but . . .”
The king in his usual fashion raised his hand to stop any further comments. “We have agreed that you’ll leave
within the hour. Your men will be waiting for you in the barracks. This is your first command and I am expecting you to make me proud.”
“But Father, I have things in the city I need to . . .”
Again, the king raised his hand, ignoring his son’s appeals.
“Captain Waid will be your number two. He is a proven veteran and can help you if you run into any unforeseen situations.”
“And the Kharnack issue?”
“Those reports are unsubstantiated. Besides, I think fifty of my personal Royal Lancers will match any number of those barbarians. Now get yourself ready,” snapped the King, losing his patience.
“Yes, Father,” answered Zane glumly, and quickly left the room.
***
Zane hurried back to his room and wrote two quick notes. The first was to Zorain, explaining why he had to leave the city and that he would deal with city matters on his return, which should be no more than a month. The second note was to his sweetheart, again explaining his sudden departure, that he would be gone for about a month and promising to write to her soon.
Zane got dressed in his Royal Lancer uniform of dark royal blue jerkin and leggings with thigh high black riding boots. After strapping on his weapons, he left for the barracks, buttoning his dark blue knee length coat, trying not to drop either his helm or cloak.
***
After General Brooks left the king’s chambers, he called Captain Waid into his office at the barracks.
“Captain, you’ll have the prince commanding your company.”
“Yes sir.”
“If you have any problems do not stay and fight. There are sketchy reports of the Kharnacks uniting and these have alarmed the prince, so if you see any large scale Kharnack force, head for the nearest outpost and send a report back to me. If the rumours are true it will take a large military presence to resolve matters. Remember, you must protect the prince at all costs. If there is trouble, you will assume command.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good, now it’s time to send you on your way.” The two men left the general’s office and walked through the royal barracks to the stable yard where the Lancers waited with their mounts.
***
Zane reached the barracks and saw his fifty men waiting for him. He walked over to his father and bowed.
“Son, your mother wishes you all the best on your journey,” announced the king. “I said it would not be appropriate for her to be here to send you off. Now you listen to Captain Waid, head straight to Evlon and back again. I do not want any of your adventuring, just go there, sort out any problems, and get yourself back home.”
“Yes, Father.”
The king embraced his tall son and patted him on the back.
“You come back in one piece or your mother will kill me,” he joked with a strained smile.
Zane laughed. “I won’t be away too long, Father.”
“Good, now be on your way.”
Zane left his father, walked towards General Brooks and formally saluted. The general responded with a wry smile.
“Now, you be careful, Zane,” Brooks said softly, eyeing the young prince with pride. The general liked the young man and the two had grown close during the time they had spent studying military strategies. Zane was the son he never had.
“I’ll be back soon, general.”
“You’d better be, and no heroics, do you hear me?” said Brooks sternly.
Zane smiled his crooked smile. “No heroics, I promise.”
Zane donned his golden helm and mounted his tall horse. In unison, the company of Lancers followed suit. Zane saluted his father and General Brooks, then turned his horse and rode from the barracks.
The prince commenced the long march to Evlon.
Chapter 10
With Tanas leading, the travellers journeyed to Thade’s home without incident. Very few words were exchanged on the way; each man and woman was deep in his or her own thoughts. Megan rode alongside Tanas’s horse, Essie, and said she would not be parted from him again. As they rode, Essie constantly tried to nip the rump of Megan’s mount.
Ireen was delighted to be with her beloved father again and proudly showed him off to her new friends, introducing him as her father instead of the Phadrine Emperor, as she would have done in the past. She never wandered far from his side as she now had the protection of the strongest man she had ever known. She gazed around at the small company. There was General Gordonia, (Uncle Gordy), a great man and warrior, and her father's right-hand man. She had known him all her life. With him were the two Imperial Guards who had survived the skirmish at Single Tooth Gorge. These were hard men who would give their lives at the blink of an eye to protect the Chosen and his kin. Then there was Thade, her lover; the fastest man with a blade she had ever known. He caught her gaze and she smiled back warmly. At that moment, her father turned, saw the look between them and frowned. Ireen smiled at her father and his anger melted away.
She looked ahead and saw that leading the travellers was Tanas, the eccentric blind warrior who had saved her life. She remembered reintroducing her father to him . . .
***
“Tanas, may I call you Tanas?” asked Rowet.
Tanas grunted at the man in response.
“I have been incredibly rude and, as you correctly said, utterly ungrateful. You have saved my child’s life and for that, I am forever in your debt. I offer you my hand and hope we can restart on a better footing.” Rowet extended his hand.
Tanas cocked his head to one side, listening intently, but did not respond. Megan’s slight nudge in his back forced the issue. He beamed a smile, held out his hand and Rowet gripped it with both hands. With his voice full of emotion, Rowet said, “Thank you, my friend, thank you.”
It was Tanas’s turn to be embarrassed. “As we are now friends, I can tell you that you have a fine daughter – though a pain at times, she will be a great woman.”
Rowet laughed and threw his arm around Tanas’s shoulders. “My friend, she is exactly like her mother.” His voice trailed off.
Tanas heard the sadness in his voice and realised that it could only mean one thing. “It is a small thing to give, but you have my deepest sympathies for your loss.”
“Thank you, again. I have lost my wife to the darkness of death and my son to the darkness of treachery, but I will have my revenge.”
“If it means anything to you, I will be at your side if you need help.”
“It seems I am saying nothing but thank you. You are a true friend and I read men well. You speak with sincerity and I may call on your skills.”
“Anytime, anywhere, your Highness.”
***
Ireen jerked out of her daydream to see Thade looking at her, his stormy-grey eyes full of concern. She smiled and nodded to him and he smiled back, reassured. Riding with Thade was his mentor and friend, Dax. Ireen had always been afraid of Dax, even with Thade’s assurances. There was a look in his bright violet eyes; the look of the devil. Then there were his axes; murderous weapons in the hands of a man who knew how to use them. Ireen shivered at the thought and remembered seeing him once in the arena, one time too many.
On a wagon at the rear rode Baron Chelmsnor of Evlon and a big man with fiery red hair. The baron had not said a word to them since the fight in the gorge and appeared disappointed by something. Ireen felt intimidated by his formidable stature but Thade and Dax were comfortable with him, and that gave her a little comfort. The baron seemed initially cold with everyone but she could see the scars of immense loss in his eyes and his fresh physical scars.
At night the baron and Gammel would camp away from the rest of the party and screams and crying could be heard from their direction. Thade went to investigate one night and was met by Gammel, carrying his broadsword. “Everything is fine here,” announced the blacksmith, “the baron has bad dreams. He has suffered great loss. Leave him be and I will take care of him.”
Thade became silent. Then Dax arrived. “Leave the man
be, Thade. I know the baron to be a powerful man, both mentally and physically, and he must be possessed by an unimaginable grief for him to scream out so.”
Thade turned away and walked back to the camp.
Dax waited for a moment. “Look after the baron, he is a good man,” he said to Gammel.
“Aye, and thank you. He’s a strong man but what he has seen may kill him. It eats away at him like a cancer,” concluded Gammel sadly.
“I know you have suffered loss as well, I can tell from the way you fought yesterday. If you ever need me, just let me know.”
“Aye,” answered Gammel, turning with his head bowed as he returned to the baron.
Strong men, thought Ireen, all of them, even the ageing Gan-Goran the magic-master. She smiled – she felt safe.
***
The Chosen rode silently, studying the other men. Like his daughter, he was pleased with the small company, but unsure of his next step. His main quest had been to find Ireen and he had achieved that. Now his thoughts focused on vengeance. Rowet looked at his daughter, who was gazing at Thade, and his mind drifted. He thought back to the last time he had seen Thade, the day he had banished him from Phadrine . . .
***
Earlier on that day, he had had a private meeting with one of the more powerful nobles in Kal-Pharina.
“Your Highness, the gladiator killed my son in cold blood,” hissed the noble. “My son and heir. And now he is gone at the hands of that . . .that Rhaurn. I demand retribution.”
“What happened?” asked the Chosen softly.
“My boy was walking through the palace’s public gardens with some of his friends, when he . . . he was attacked,” explained the nobleman, his words tumbling out.
“Had your son been drinking?” asked the Chosen, knowing about the dead man’s history of excessive drinking and how it affected him.
