by Brian Murray
“Aye,” managed Tanas, nodding, then he winced, rubbing his head.
“Come in and I will give you the perfect cure,” proclaimed Cara.
Tanas carefully walked into the kitchen and heard the grating sound of a chair being dragged across the stone floor.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” answered Rowet. “I must say you look as green as grass.”
“I never got used to the local ale,” said Tanas miserably.
“Been around these parts before?”
“Aye,” replied the blind warrior, not bothering to say more. He did not want to explain the ‘release’ of his horse, Essie.
A few minutes later, Cara placed a steaming bowl of oats in front of Tanas.
Before he could ask, Ireen called out, “He likes his honey, Cara.”
“Does he now?”
“Aye, if you have some to spare,” said Tanas, using his politest tone.
“Now, if I give you some honey, what will you give me, young man?”
“Whatever you like, ma’am.”
“Now that’s an offer I don’t get every day,” chuckled Cara. “Can you wash dishes without breaking them?”
“Of course. I’m only blind, my hands work perfectly well.”
“Good, I have a full sideboard to be done.”
“It’s a deal, ma’am.”
“Good, and his Highness has already volunteered to dry for you.”
A groan from Tanas’s left told him everything and he laughed. “Had some honey too, huh, Rowet?”
Without feeling at all slighted by a commoner using his birth name, the Chosen replied, “Aye.”
Now it was Ireen’s turn to laugh.
***
After finishing their bowls of sweetened oats, Rowet and Tanas started their chores.
“Well, I must still be dreaming in my cot. The Chosen, the Phadrine Emperor, drying dishes,” roared General Gordonia, howling with laughter. “Now if the men could see you now, your Highness.”
Before Rowet could respond, Cara started issuing orders. “Before you sit down, you can fetch some wood from the shed.”
Gordonia stood stock still with his mouth gaping in shock. In Phadrine, women did not normally speak to men in such a fashion.
Now, Rowet laughed aloud. “I would go if I was you, Gordy, or you will be breaking your fast this evening.”
“But . . .”
“Be gone, I need some firewood. Oh, and tell those oafs in the woodshed to come and break their fasts. I think their heads should have cleared by now. And tell your men to bring their platters in so I can feed them.”
“Yes, General Ma’am,” replied Gordy, formally saluting.
***
Thade rode into the nearest village with Cara’s shopping list. He tied his horse outside, walked into the small wooden store and peered around, rubbing his sore chin.
“Master Thade, did you sort out our problems in the north?”
“Sorry?”
“Problems in the north, did you resolve them?”
Thade had forgotten about the slavers, as so much had happened to him since then. Yet it was only a week ago.
“Yes, they’re gone and will not return.”
“That’s good, Master Thade. Did Cara send you down with a provisions list?”
“Aye. Oats, honey, flour, and some cramdon leaf, please.” Thade paused. “What’s cramdon leaf for?”
“Ah, you must have had a heavy night on the ale, eh?”
“Is that what it’s for?”
“Aye,” answered the storekeeper with a cheeky smile. “The perfect cure for overindulging in spirits or ale.”
After several minutes, the storekeeper produced bags containing Cara’s supplies. Thade thanked the man and left. Outside, it struck Thade that the storekeeper had been there since Thade had purchased his land and still Thade did not know his name. Shaking his head, he left the village, heading for home, determined to ask the storekeeper his name on his next visit.
***
When Thade returned from town with the provisions, he could not believe his eyes. Rowet and the blind warrior Tanas were washing and drying dishes. Gammel and Dax were chopping wood in the shed while General Gordonia and Baron Chelmsnor moved the chopped wood to the woodshed, built onto the side of the house that had access from the kitchen, so that wood could be reached from inside with ease. Meanwhile, the Imperial Guards were sitting at the table being served by their Imperial Princess, not knowing what to say. Cara and Megan were also sitting at the table, eating porridge and drinking tisane. Only Gan-Goran was missing.
Thade put his horse in the stables and walked up to the kitchen door, his arms full of provisions. His expression did not hide his shock very well.
“Good, you’re back,” said Cara.
“Aye,” was all Thade could manage, looking about.
“Come and join us.”
“How can you . . .”
Cara cut in. “They all volunteered,” she said, innocently spreading her arms.
Rowet spoke with honest humour in his voice. “We do need to pay our way.” As Thade drew closer the Chosen whispered, “And I do not think ‘no’ is a word Cara is used to.”
“I heard that, young man,” Cara said.
All Thade could do was laugh.
***
By midday, everyone had finished their respective jobs and all but the soldiers and Gan-Goran sat in Thade’s main room. The discussion now moved to what they should do next.
“Well,” said General Gordonia in answer to Dax’s question, “I think we need to meet your king as soon as possible. We need to resolve the problems with the Empire, and moreover, put this Darklord in his place.”
“Aye, but we need to send word to his Highness of your arrival. It must be done quickly before imperial spies report back to your son,” said Dax knowingly.
Rowet nodded in agreement.
“That’s true,” replied Gordonia. “Perhaps an arrival into Teldor at night.”
“I can assist,” put in Baron Chelmsnor. “I have my seal-ring and can request an audience with my liege and advise him of the urgency of our plight.”
“Also arrange for a company of men to escort you to the palace and ensure it is a quiet entrance,” suggested Dax.
“I will write the parchment, if you have a man who can take the message to Teldor,” added Chelmsnor.
“Not a problem. I will have one of my people ride to Teldor with coin to buy fresh horses for speed,” added Thade. He looked at Dax, who nodded.
“We do have a problem,” said Gan-Goran, appearing in the doorway. This was the first anyone had seen him since the night before.
“What’s the matter, old man?” asked Dax gently, seeing stress in the old man’s face. The man’s face looked more ashen, more gaunt than usual, his expression scared and tired.
“I think I now understand what is happening.”
“What do you mean?” asked Thade, not hiding his confusion.
“The situation is bigger than we all think, Thade,” said the old man, massaging the bridge of his nose.
“I think you should sit down and explain yourself,” said Rowet.
“I’ve put the pieces of the jigsaw together and can only come up with one conclusion.” Gan-Goran paused as he sat down and Thade handed him a goblet of apple juice He nodded his thanks and continued, “Dark times are nearly upon us.”
***
A long silence filled the room.
“What do you mean by ‘dark times’?” Gordonia finally asked warily, as if dreading the answer.
“Only those of Rhaurien royal blood know this story. In fact, only King Logan and his first born, Zane. It’s a long story, so please bear with me.” The old master-magiker supped his drink. “It starts many thousands of years ago, when our lands were different and Dark Forces ruled in place of the Divine One. In these times, vampires and foul beasts ruled the lands, and humans were their food source, just as cattle are to us
now. It was a time devoid of hope.
“Through the ashes of the scorched, arid land and blackened sky a single spark of hope glimmered for the people. Then the spark grew and people’s hope increased, and with the growth of hope, the Divine One’s strength was magnified. The Divine One escaped the dungeons within the black palace at the heart of the Realm of Yallaz’oom. With the strength of this hope, She chose Her champion. Her choice was a powerful warrior in shining armour with no peer or equal; one who controlled the destiny of life itself.
“The Divine One had chosen Her champion from the Dread. He was their champion. This unnamed warrior overcame his darkness and marched with the people of the land against the foul beasts that formed the Dread. It became a war between Dark and Light. Many old wives’ tales have been told about the war over the generations, but believe me, my friends, the war did indeed happen. The Dark One and his Dread were driven back to the sea and their last stand, the final battle, was at a place called Rhamagabora.”
“With the Divine One’s champion leading them, the people of the land crushed the Dread, sending them back to the Dark Realm. Now, this is where the story gets interesting. The last one standing was the Dark One, a being spawned from evil and darkness itself. His former champion stood in front of him, but the Dark One held the Blade of Yallas. He tried to attack his champion, using the last of his power, but was no match for the warrior. Swinging one of his mighty weapons; the warrior severed the Dark One’s right hand, in which he held the Blade of Yallas. In that one stroke, the Dark One lost his power to cross the worlds. The warrior used the power of the Blade of Yallas to tear open a gateway to the Realm of Darkness, and sent the defeated Dark One through it.”
Gan-Goran’s audience held their collective breaths, some remembering hearing rumours spoken in hushed tones, while others were hearing this for the first time.
“The warrior took the severed hand and gave it to the leaders of the people, instructing them to hide the fingers and the palm separately under magic enchantments in temples of the Divine One. Before the gateway closed, the warrior took the hilt of the Dark One’s sword, the Blade of Yallas, and snapped off the black crystal embedded in the hilt. The black crystal holds the Dark One’s soul, his foulness, and without it, the Blade of Yallas is just a great sword, and the Dark One does not have the power to cross the realms. The warrior threw the black sword through the portal and watched it close. After the warrior left the field of battle, neither the crystal nor he was ever seen again. The leaders of the people did as instructed and hid the hand parts in four locations. Only the senior magic master and his sovereign knew where they were.
“Because of these circumstances, there is something else you must know. A spell is written on an ancient parchment, a spell that could resurrect the Dark One. If his hand bones are gathered together, placed on the chest of a Child of the Light, and sacrificed correctly, he can return. Moreover, if the Blade of Yallas is united with the black crystal, the Dark One will be formidable, completely unstoppable. With his power, he can open a portal between the realms of dark and light. If that is done, there will be nothing to stop him bringing his Dread to attack our lands again. Dark times will come and blood will soak into the soil, flow in our rivers, and ultimately leach the land of the Divine One’s magic.”
“So what has this to do with us?” asked Tanas suspiciously.
“The locations of the bones,” snapped Gan-Goran sharply. “Two of the fingers are hidden at Rhamagabora, however the ancient name of the city has not been translated into modern tongue, so I believe these to be safe. Another location is an old castle in the Great Mountains, once an abbey. The castle is made of grey stone built on the face of a granite cliff face and once home to priests of the Divine One. Hundreds of years ago, the castle was taken over by followers of the Path.
“A group called the Dark Brethren now hold the castle and it is said they have mystic powers. They practise ancient dark magic and many were originally trained priests from the Divine One’s temple. The palm of the hand is said to be there in the Great Mountains. The thumb was located in a temple near the River Evl, and this I believe to be the Great Hall in Evlon. Two fingers were sent over the scorched lands to a place with a white marble temple. There they were hidden in the throne of a high priest.
“So what you are saying is,” interrupted Rowet, “this Darklord is gathering the bones of this Dark One to complete his resurrection.”
“I believe so. He came from the Grey Castle in the Great Mountains with the Dark Brethren so we can assume that he has the first pieces of the hand.”
“He has been to Evlon, as the baron has stated,” interjected Dax. “And you’re saying he went there to obtain the bones.”
“That is what we need to discover. The other two pieces are in a white temple somewhere across the scorched lands, and I believe this to be your home, Rowet, at Kal-Pharina.”
“Where are the bones of the final two fingers?” asked Thade.
“I do not know, but we must find out if this is just a coincidence or whether this Darklord is gathering the pieces together for the Ritual of Resurrection.”
“But he needs this black crystal,” commented Dax.
“Aye.”
“Where is it?”
“I do not know where the final two pieces are, nor where the crystal is hidden.”
“What do we do now?” asked Rowet, frowning at this new complication.
“Some of us need to go to Evlon to see if the Darklord has taken the pieces from there,” insisted Gan-Goran.
“And the rest?” enquired Dax.
“We need to crush this Darklord, no matter what his intentions are. So your Highness must convince our king to gather his army and march to Phadrine to regain your throne. You need to take back your throne from your son and defeat this evil.”
“Yes, Master-Magiker, I will need the help of the baron to convince the king of this new threat and the assistance that is required.”
“This is what we will do,” said Dax. “The baron, your Highness and your men should travel with the womenfolk to Teldor, while the rest of us journey to Evlon. If all goes well, we will meet on the road to Phadrine.”
“How will you cross the Steppes?” asked Chelmsnor.
“I’ve done it before,” answered Dax, “several times.”
“There are a few in the Empire who have the knowledge to march an army across the Steppes,” added General Gordonia knowingly.
The next course of action was agreed upon. Later that day, the baron wrote his message for the king, and Thade sent two riders to reach Teldor as quickly as possible. That evening, the group of friends knew it would be the last they would be together for some time. What evil they faced was unknown, and whether all of them would survive was also uncertain. This thought filled their heads and though it was a jolly evening, behind their smiling faces each man and woman felt dread.
All except one felt the dread of the unknown.
***
In the morning, much to Cara’s displeasure, the company left Thade’s home. Thade had acquired new hooded cloaks for the Chosen and his men to hide their uniforms. The Chosen, General Gordonia and his men, together with Baron Chelmsnor, Megan and Ireen, left and headed west for Teldor.
***
Ireen said a tearful goodbye to Thade, who was just as emotional.
***
Megan and Tanas could not be separated until the last moment, and then their interlaced fingers separated slowly.
***
Gammel held the baron’s hand for a long time as they spoke in a low whisper. Finally, they embraced and parted, wishing each other luck on their journey.
***
The rest of the group mounted their horses. Dax, Thade, Tanas, Gammel, and Gan-Goran watched as the others disappeared over the hill to the west, before they headed off to the northeast and Evlon.
Chapter 11
One week after Zane and his company of Royal Lancers departed for Evlon, King Logan
received a knock on the door to his private chambers.
“Enter.”
A court administrator entered the room and bowed to the king.
“Your Excellency, I have a man waiting outside who claims to have a parchment from Baron Chelmsnor of the Duchy of Evlon. He has been instructed by the baron to deliver the parchment into your hands, and to no other. The man has been disarmed, shall I let him in?”
The king sat motionless for a moment, as a wave of panic crossed his face. Within the next breath, he regained his composure. “Of course, let the man in.”
The man was still soiled from his journey, as he had been escorted straight from the stables to the king’s chambers. He bowed deeply and spoke confidently. “Your Excellency, my name is Alain. I am a retired Royal Lancer, from the lands owned by Thade. I have been directed to deliver this parchment from Baron Chelmsnor of the Duchy of Evlon. The baron insisted I personally see you receive the parchment with the seal intact as I have been told the contents are matters that affect the Kingdom.”
“Thank you Alain, for your diligence. My man will see that you rest before your journey home.”
“That’s most generous, your Highness, but I wish to return home as soon as possible. My wife and I have a new-born boy.”
“Congratulations, young man. I will find a reward for your time.”
“That’s not necessary, your Highness. This is for the Kingdom and is therefore my duty. No reward is necessary,” replied Alain, handing the sealed parchment to the king. “With your leave, your Highness, I will return home.”
“Of course,” answered the king, smiling at the man. Once alone, he broke the seal and read the parchment.
***
“PAGE!” screamed King Logan from within his chambers.
A pageboy entered the room, bowing. “You summoned me, your Highness?”
“Send for General Brooks and Treasurer Salom. They are to report here immediately. No excuses, I want them here now!”
“Yes, Sire,” answered the page, turning and leaving the room. As he ran through the palace, everyone got out of the page’s way as he wore the King’s colours: blue top with a red sash and white leggings.
