Forgotten Hero

by Brian Murray

  The king read the parchment again.

  ***

  General Brooks arrived at the kings’ chambers first and was ushered in. He found the king pacing up and down the room, deep in thought, stomping on the lush, blue woollen carpet.

  “General, please read the parchment on my desk, it is from Baron Chelmsnor. I think we have a problem,” said Logan, without breaking his stride.

  The general picked up the parchment and started to read. All colour drained from his face.

  At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Treasurer Salom entered.

  The general finished reading the report.

  “Treasurer Salom, how much revenue do we receive from Evlon in taxes?” asked the king.

  “I am not sure of the exact figure, your Highness, but I would say around ten percent of our total revenue. Why?”

  “Sire,” interrupted the general. The king ceased his pacing and threw an irritated stare at his warlord. “I think we have a more important problem than taxes.”

  “And what would that be?” snapped the king, glaring at his general as though the man were demented.

  “Your son! You sent your son, and heir to the throne, to Evlon.”

  Realisation struck the king like a blow and he slowly sat down, his eyes wide. How could I have forgotten my son, he thought. What will my wife say? He sat in silence for a moment.

  General Brooks spoke, keeping his voice low and even. “I would suggest we wait until our guests arrive. A rider would not reach Prince Zane in time to stop him reaching Evlon, but it would be prudent to send a messenger, just in case.” The king nodded and Brooks continued, “If this message is accurate, I would also suggest sending a group of Royal Lancers to escort the baron and his guests to the palace. They should meet them on the King’s Highway.” Again, the king just nodded. “I would further suggest we do not jump to any conclusions until we have discussed this matter with the baron and his guests. When he returns, the prince should be able to confirm this story.” There was hope in the general’s voice as he made the last statement.

  “You are right, General,” replied the king, trying to think how and what to tell his wife. He decided it could only be the truth.

  “Furthermore, as a precaution, I would suggest we contact our regional commanders and have our army put on immediate standby. This problem could very easily turn nasty, and there could be deceit.”

  “I agree, Brooks. Will you arrange it? Can you also have Admiral Rendel report to me when he docks?”

  “Of course, Sire.”

  “And can you be available immediately when the baron arrives? I want to get to the bottom of this.”

  “Of course, Sire.”

  “Thank you, gentlemen.”

  The general rose swiftly and left the room to issue his orders; he had much to do.

  Treasurer Salom left the room puzzled and confused. He had not read the note from the baron but deduced something grave must have happened to Evlon. Grave enough to have the Rhaurien army readied for war. Salom had his own problems and he rushed back to his office. As the general had to be ready for war, Treasurer Salom had to finance the war and that would be a problem without the taxes from Evlon.

  ***

  After Prince Zane led his company of Royal Lancers through the western city gate, they headed out over the rolling hills of the Kingdom. The route to Evlon had been pre-planned and the men spent their first night in a tavern on the King’s Highway. The Cow’s Head tavern was a two-storey building just off the King’s Highway, on the edge of a small village called Innville. Made up of small taverns, the village had grown at this point along the highway one day’s ride from Teldor, and the townsfolk survived on business from passing trade caravans and others travelling to and from the capital. On arrival, Captain Waid issued orders for security and watch rotation. Four men guarded the stables and two men guarded both the front and back doors. Inside, the atmosphere was calm and relaxed. Zane and Captain Waid sat at a table away from all windows and doors, eating in silence.

  Zane broke the quiet. “Captain, how long have you been with the Royal Lancers?”

  “Ten years now, Sire. Worked my way up the ranks to captain,” he answered proudly.

  “Captain, may we set some ground rules now to avoid any unnecessary problems?”

  “Sire?”

  “Your men respect you as a veteran soldier, and will probably not respond to me, a wet nosed royal, giving orders.”

  “Sire, you’re the king’s son, they will respect and carry out your orders without question.”

  “Aye, that I know, Captain. However, I don’t have any experience of true soldiering. Yes, I’ve read all the books on strategies and have been tutored by men who have been deemed the best in their respective fields. Therefore, I am one of the most knowledgeable men in battle strategy and man management, but that’s all on paper.”

  “Sire, I don’t understand what you are saying.”

  “Waid, may I call you Waid?”

  “Of course, Sire.”

  “Good. In front of the men, I am Prince Zane. However, during discussions like these, I am Zane the pupil and you’re Waid the teacher. I won’t interfere with your management and control of the men. I will be seen as they say, ‘the figurehead’, and you will marshal the men. How does this sit with you, Waid?”

  “Sire . . . I mean Zane. I had thought you might be one of those nobles who would make an ass of themselves in front of the men. But before we left, I heard you are a cunning, clever man. I will truly respect your decisions. I will not question any commands you give on the march, but when necessary, I will somehow alter them without seeming to directly correct you, if I can. Then later we will sit down, and I will if I can, explain where we went wrong.”

  “Thank you, Waid, we have an understanding,” said Zane, smiling his crooked smile and offering his hand. The captain shook to their agreement.

  The two men spent most of the evening planning the rest of their march to Evlon. During the conversation, Zane asked the names of the key soldiers within his company, including the trackers, the healer, and the best horsemen. Towards the end of the evening, Zane asked whether they should go around or though Dashnar Forest.

  “I think we should make that decision closer to the time. Once we are through Single Tooth Gorge, we can decide what to do.”

  “Is it possible to march fifty men through the forest?” asked Zane.

  “I’ve never tried it nor been in a company with a captain mad enough to try. We have always gone around.”

  Zane thought for a long time. “Aye, let’s decide when we get nearer to the forest.”

  At the end of the evening, Zane went to his room, leaving Captain Waid sitting at the table. Waid wondered whether to tell Zane of his discussion with the general just before they set off, but decided it would be prudent to keep that discussion to himself.

  The next morning, with their new agreement in force, Captain Waid called out his orders, and Zane’s Royal Lancers continued their march to Evlon.

  ***

  The Chosen, Baron Chelmsnor, and their small company made their way west to the Kingdom’s capital, Teldor. They decided to stay off the main highways and stuck to the longer, winding hill trails, staying in small villages and towns along the way. As they approached a village the Chosen, the general, and his men would don their deep woollen hoods. Megan and the baron always ventured into the settlement first to find a suitable tavern and pay for lodging and an evening meal, which they consumed in the privacy of their rooms.

  Three days from Teldor, the group could not get rooms in any tavern in the village of Estyrn. A large trading caravan had arrived a few hours before them and taken every available room. Megan and the baron bought some supplies and the group decided to camp outside the village. The horses were tethered and a campfire lit. The men and women sat around the fire in near silence while a stew bubbled lazily.

  Rowet broke the sombre mood. “Baron Chelmsnor, please tell m
e, what is King Logan like?”

  The baron smiled. “He is a great leader of men. You know the history of our people. The Rhaurn are a race bred in honour and heroism, and our king is one of those blessed with true honour.”

  “He is like yourself, Baron. I have heard the stories of your exploits with the Kharnacks.”

  “I am honoured you have taken the time to research me, your Highness.”

  “It is always wise to know one’s partners in trade. Furthermore, it is always wise to learn about one’s competition,” replied Rowet, choosing the final word carefully.

  “That is true, your Highness. I have read what limited reports there are concerning you. I do believe you and our sovereign will get along famously. He is a cunning and shrewd man, who has a group of excellent advisors around him. The king can be a hard man and his council members are just as tough. I believe that during discussions, General Brooks and Admiral Rendel will definitely be present. They are experts in their fields and it is these men we have to convince that there is a threat.”

  “That is good to hear my friend; I will be looking forward to your advice during the course of our discussions.”

  “You must remember, your Highness, I am a Rhaurn and totally loyal to my king. However, I know what is at stake and will help you the best I can. But I will not be party to treason against the king, or my Kingdom.”

  “Thank you, that’s understandable.”

  “No thanks are required. I believe that not only is there a huge problem in your own lands but I feel it will also spill into Rhaurien. This started on Kingdom soil and my guess is it will finish on our land.”

  “We will have to see.”

  General Gordonia spoke next. “How soon could your Kingdom have its army ready to march?”

  “I am not sure, General,” answered the baron. “It has been a long time since our entire army has been assembled. You should ask our General Brooks; he will be able to answer your question, but initially do not expect it to be a totally truthful answer.”

  “Yes, we are enemies. We have always been and will probably always be, but in this case, my enemy’s enemy is my friend.”

  “That is true, General, the Darklord and his followers are; but in the king’s eyes, they are not his enemy . . . yet.”

  “Well, we need to ensure that your king sees the same enemy as we do, my friend.”

  Two of the Imperial Guards were on watch near the campsite, hidden in the brush, while another, Morrich, scouted further away. Morrich arrived silently back at the camp, bowed to Rowet, and saluted the general.

  “You have news, Morrich?” asked the general, using the Kingdom’s tongue rather than the Phadrine language.

  “Yes, General, men in uniform march this way,” answered Morrich, using very broken Rhaurien.

  “In what colour do they march?” asked the baron quickly.

  Before Morrich could answer, the other two Imperial Guards rushed into the campsite with weapons drawn, ready to defend their emperor.

  “What colour?” asked the baron again.

  Before the soldier could answer, a call came from outside the camp.

  “Hello to the camp.”

  ***

  Dax, Thade, Tanas, Gammel, and Gan-Goran made their way northeast from Thade’s home to Evlon. They crossed the Glass Mountains, slowly passing through Single Tooth Gorge, and headed for Dashnar Forest. The group decided to camp on the western edge of the forest, with the Glass Mountains behind them. Tanas had grumbled most of the journey so far, as he was forced to leave Essie behind, the horse had not fully recovered from the long, hard ride to Thade’s home.

  They spent a long time deciding whether to go around or through the forest.

  “Our only option is to go through, we will save up to two weeks on our journey to Evlon,” insisted Gan-Goran.

  “Aye,” answered Dax, “but if we get lost we could be going around in circles for months.”

  “That is true, but each of us has travelled through the great forest and I feel we can make it through.”

  Thade now spoke up. “I don’t think we have a choice in the matter. As I see it, we must go through.”

  “Aye,” agreed Tanas. “We must go through, as time is not on our side.”

  “Gammel, we all have an equal voice here, what do you say?”

  “I have never been completely through the great forest, so if we decide that’s the best route, I will be relying on you to get us through.”

  “Someone is coming,” whispered Tanas to Dax.

  “Where?”

  “Behind us. I think they are wearing armour.”

  “Hello to the camp,” came the call from behind Dax and Tanas.

  The men in the camp rose on their feet, drawing weapons.

  ***

  Several Royal Lancers entered the camp to be faced by six armed men standing in front of two young women. A thick silence hung over the camp until the baron spoke, having recognised the king’s colours and the crest of the Royal Lancers in the dancing firelight.

  “My name is Baron Chelmsnor of the Duchy of Evlon and these people are my guests. We are on our way to see our sovereign, King Logan in Teldor. I have sent ahead word of our arrival and hereby insist, under my rank as baron, that you men escort us safely to Teldor.”

  Another period of silence filled the campsite, the crackling of the fire and the bubbling stew, the only sounds. Two of the Royal Lancers conferred. One man pointed to the baron and the other nodded. He stepped forward and bowed.

  “Baron Chelmsnor, my name is Captain Nestry of the Royal Lancers. We have been dispatched by General Brooks to give you and your guests safe conduct to the king’s palace at Teldor. I have been ordered to protect you and your guests, and to follow your instructions. General Brooks insists that we enter Teldor and the palace at night. I will arrange our travelling speed to comply with my orders, if that is agreeable to you.”

  “Yes, it is, and thank you, Captain Nestry.” Chelmsnor turned to face the Chosen. “Rowet, I would think it now prudent to have our friends put their weapons away.”

  “Aye, Baron, you are right,” answered the Chosen, sheathing his sword. General Gordonia hissed a single word order in the Phadrine tongue and the Imperial Guards put away their weapons.

  “Captain, if you and your men care to join our camp, we will leave for Teldor in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied the captain, saluting.

  The captain issued his orders and his men hurried to complete their duties. He then joined the baron in the camp and was introduced to the party.

  “Captain, let me introduce my friends.” The baron went around the group, avoiding the use of rank or titles. He had asked the king not to tell anyone the Chosen was in the Kingdom, as this would compromise their safety.

  As the rising sun gave birth to a new day, the captain led the company to Teldor. For the first time during their journey, something had gone right for the travellers.

  ***

  Dax, Thade, and Tanas dived into the undergrowth surrounding the hollow where they were camped, while Gammel and Gan-Goran waited in the clearing by the campfire.

  “Hello to the camp!” came the call again, more sternly this time.

  “Hello stranger, welcome to our fire,” replied Gan-Goran.

  From the darkness, three Royal Lancers stepped into the orange firelight, each man scanning the hollow. They paused just inside the orb of light created by the fire. “Name yourselves,” commanded one of the soldiers.

  “I am Gan-Goran, once of the King’s Court, and this is my friend Gammel from Evlon.”

  “You’re from Evlon?”

  “Aye,” answered Gammel.

  “What news is there from Evlon?”

  The Royal Lancer was stopped from asking any further questions by a sword point pressed into the base of his spine. From behind the soldiers, Thade and Dax silently stepped out from the undergrowth. Tanas remained in the darkness of the brush.

  Dax stalked
around to face the soldiers and said, “Right now we will be asking all the questions.”

  “You are stopping a Royal Lancer from completing his duty. Such an act could be seen as treason, punishable by death.”

  “So you know your laws, so let me ask you this. Name our king, queen, and kin.”

  “Well sir, my father’s name is King Logan, my mother is Queen Larene, my sister is Princess Sasha, and I am . . . Prince Zane.”

  Dax paused for a moment and peered into the man’s winter-cloud grey eyes.

  “Oh, and I should mention there’s a company of Royal Lancers surrounding this area, awaiting my command. Therefore, I think I am the only one in a position to ask questions.”

  Tanas stepped from the gloom into the firelight. “There is one thing he speaks the truth about. There is a company of soldiers surrounding our camp.”

  Dax remained silent for a while. “Gan-Goran, is he who he says he is?”

  The older man shuffled forward and stared up at the young man.

  “It’s been a long time, Magic Master,” said Zane, smiling his crooked smile.

  “Yes, a very long time, Prince of Rhaurien,” responded Gan-Goran with a bow.

  “Would you kindly ask your friend to remove his blade from my back, it’s causing an irritating itch.”

  “Thade, I would advise you to lower your sword. Killing the Prince of Rhaurien will not, at this time, help our cause.”

  “So he is who he claims to be?” asked Thade, peeking over Zane’s shoulder.

  “Aye,” responded the older man, taking Zane by the arm and leading him to the fire.

  “Captain, if you would see to the men,” ordered the prince, “I have some catching up to do with an old friend.”

  ***

  The company of Royal Lancers camped close by, while several of the soldiers guarded the hollow where Prince Zane, Captain Waid, Dax, and the others dined. Tanas felt strangely nervous in the presence of the Lancers, but everyone else seemed relaxed. Gan-Goran and Zane chatted, catching up on each other’s lives. Then the conversation became one-sided, with Zane being questioned by the older man about Teldor and his family.

  “So what brings you here? The Prince of the Rhaurns playing soldier?” asked Dax with a sneer.