by Brian Murray
“Which Phadrines?” asked Dax softly, hoping not to receive a particular answer.
“The emperor and his general,” snarled the general.
“Those men had better be unharmed. Take me to them. Now!” ordered Dax, coldly pushing the general away. The general staggered back, but did not fall. He peered around and realised the situation was as dry as kindling, ready to ignite. He ordered his men to stand down, and led Dax and the others to the Chosen’s tent.
***
The Chosen heard a commotion outside his tent and slowly stood. The tent flap flew open and a warrior stepped in, silhouetted against the light outside.
“Your Highness, I hope those idiots have not made your stay in your lands too uncomfortable?”
“Dax, is that you?” asked the Chosen.
“Aye, your Highness, it is I. Now let us settle this little misunderstanding you have with our good general.”
“General Brooks, please come in,” said Dax, almost politely. “Are these the men you say assassinated our sovereign?”
“Aye, these two and their followers who we have under guard outside.”
“You idiot!” roared Dax, again grabbing the general by his tunic. Dax realised that his anger had gotten the better of him as he threatened the General of the Rhaurien Army. Both he and his friend, Zane, mourned a death but that was no excuse for his treatment of the general. It was not entirely his fault. Dax relaxed his body, released the general, and softened his voice.
“You will apologise to these men and have them released now, General,” he added, turning to Rowet. “Your Highness, will you accompany me to see King Zane?”
“It would be my pleasure, Dax,” said the Chosen, smiling.
***
The men sat and waited while Zane prepared himself for his first duty as king. Zane and Dax entered the general’s tent and everyone stood, waiting.
“King Zane,” Dax started. “Let me introduce Emperor Rowet, the Chosen of the Phadrine and his warlord, General Gordonia.”
Zane stepped forward and shook the men’s hands.
“I understand from Dax, that you would not have had anything to do with my father’s death. I take great counsel from Dax and I believe his words. As King of Rhaurien, I do not hold either of you responsible for my father’s death.”
“Thank you, your Highness,” said the Chosen. “I also mourn the death of your father, he was my friend. If there is anything I can do to help you, I will do so.”
“Thank you, I’m fine. The only thing I would like to do now is go home. However, I believe we have a problem that needs to be resolved. My father made a promise to you to recapture your throne and I will, of course, keep my father’s promise.”
The Chosen bowed. “Thank you, your Highness.”
“Can I make one thing clear first?”
“Yes, your Highness,” said the Chosen.
“My name is Zane. To my friends I am just Zane.”
The Chosen smiled. “Yes, Zane and to my friends, I am Rowet.”
“Good, now that we have that sorted out, what’s the plan?”
“As you may or may not be aware, the bridges across the moat at Kal-Pharina can be retracted. We need to get a small force across the moat at night to extend the bridge at the right time to let your forces in.”
“How many men do you need?”
“Myself, as I know how the mechanism works, and four other men.”
“I know just the men,” said Zane, looking at Dax, who just nodded.
“General, if you would please have the men stand by. They should be ready to march at dawn.”
“Yes, your Highness,” said Brooks softly.
“Thank you, gentlemen, now if you would excuse me. I have some letters to write.”
The men rose, bowing, and left the tent. General Brooks remained.
“General, is there anything I can help you with?” asked the young king.
“Yes Sire, as you have Dax as your general, I will of course step aside. The death of your father clouded my judgement and I nearly made a terrible, terrible mistake.”
Zane rose, walked around the table, and stood in front of the general. “Brooks, Dax is my advisor, counsellor, and friend, but you are my general. I hold Dax in high esteem but he fights along with the men, whilst you plan our strategy. As for your judgement here, we all make mistakes and those who are big enough to admit their mistakes are true men.”
“Thank you, Zane.”
“Thank me later, Brooks,” Zane said, with his crooked smile. “We still have a war to win.”
***
General Brooks walked slowly to the Chosen’s tent, his mind churning over several different ways to say the same thing. He paused outside, took a deep breath, then asked for entry. Sitting inside were the Chosen, Dax, and Thade.
“Your Highness, may I have a word?” asked Brooks politely.
The Chosen looked up. “Gentlemen, we will meet an hour before midnight.”
The other three men left the tent, leaving General Brooks and the Chosen alone. The atmosphere in the fabric room was tense.
“Your Highness, I have been incredibly stupid and naïve,” said the general in a humble tone. “My king, my friend, was murdered and I needed to blame someone. Unfortunately, I blamed the wrong people.”
“So you are saying?” prompted the Chosen softly.
Brooks swallowed. “I am saying I’m truly sorry and beg for your forgiveness. I know I do not deserve it after some of the things I said, but if you could see it in your heart, I would be much obliged.” The general bowed on one knee and waited.
The Chosen rose from his seat and walked round the table to stand before Brooks.
“Brooks, please rise.”
The general stood up.
“I do forgive you, General. It was a time of great stress for all of us.” The Chosen offered his hand. The general took the Chosen’s hand and they shook.
“Friends, General?”
The wily old general smiled. “Aye, friends.”
***
Tucci sat on his throne, shouting and ranting at anyone and everyone who entered the room. No one could do anything right. The pressure of leading a nation stressed the young man to no end. He had received no teaching on running a nation, which was now starting to show. The treasurer was dragged to the dungeons for asking the emperor to reread a report he had completed. He had tried to explain to the emperor that since the priests had been removed from office, few taxes had been collected, and the treasury coffers were running low of coin.
Tucci called a halt to the day’s court and stumbled back to his room. He took another black crystal and glared at his reflection in the mirror through glazed eyes. Long gone was the bright-eyed nineteen-year-old. What stared back at him now was a gaunt, ashen face. He studied his reflection closely, reaching for a glass of Daarina. Grey flecks streaked through Tucci’s hair and dark black smudges circled his eyes. Disgusted with what he saw, Tucci violently threw his goblet, shattering his image. He reached for the bottle of Daarina and went out onto his balcony. He looked out at the distant Rhaurien camp and smiled.
“Come, Father, we are waiting for you,” he slurred.
He saw the Kharnack army just outside the city, preparing for battle. At the huge central fire, clansmen danced and shouted. Tucci could not make out what they shouted, but he knew these clansmen would stop the Rhaurn threat and capture his father. Tucci had put all his faith in his friend the Darklord, and he now wanted action.
The sun slowly ducked below the western horizon and darkness loomed. There was a quiet knock on the door but Tucci did not answer. A tray of food was brought in and an earlier untouched meal removed. The young man slumped to the balcony floor, mumbling, as he felt the full effect of the balamine plant extract.
***
That night breaks in the clouds exposed the moon, bathing the land in silvery light. The air remained calm and reasonably warm.
Dax, Thade, Tanas, and Gammel waited
for the Chosen, all dressed in black borrowed from Dar-Phadrin clansmen, with their faces and hands also blackened with a fine dried mud mixed with mutton fat. The emperor emerged from the tent and could not resist laughing at his friends.
“What?” asked Tanas innocently.
“You look good enough to be my own kin,” said the Chosen, giggling like a child.
“Gentlemen, are you ready?” asked Zane, who followed the Chosen out of the tent and also started to laugh when he saw his four friends.
“Don’t you start,” stormed Dax, trying to suppress his own laughter.
“I know it may be a little late to ask, but can you men swim?”
The four friends had planned their response and in unison, bowed, and said, “Yes, your Holinesses, Highnesses, sirs!”
“Shut up will you, you idiots!” said Rowet and everyone started to laugh.
“Zane, yes we can all swim, and we have drums to carry our weapons and hollow reeds to breathe through,” Thade responded.
“Good. I hope I will see you all tomorrow at the gate.”
“You cannot get rid of us that easily, Zane,” said Dax, smiling.
“I hope not.” Zane turned to the Chosen. “These are my best men and my friends. Please ensure that nothing happens to them. And make sure Dax does not do anything stupid.”
“Dax, do anything stupid – heavens forbid!” joked Rowet, shaking his head.
“You two can stop that now,” said Dax, again trying not to laugh, and running his thumb along one of his axe blades.
“Are you threatening the King of Rhaurien and the Emperor of Phadrine?”
“Of course!” he answered, roaring with laughter.
The young king embraced all the men, wishing them a safe journey, then watched them silently leave, blending into the night.
***
The first obstacle the group faced was the Kharnack camp. The Kharnacks continued their ritual preparation for battle: putting on their white war paint, drinking the ritual Kashkar and sharpening their weapons. Kashkar was a strong alcoholic drink, heated with special herbs, making it slightly hallucinogenic so the warriors feel invincible.
They watched the Kharnacks dance around the fire, amazed by their sheer number. The five men carefully skirted around the huge camp, keeping out of the flickering firelight. Within half an hour, they reached the city side of the Kharnack camp. They jogged around the moat and faced the southern gate. The group stopped just short of the moat and hid in some brush. A cloud cleared the moon and the moat water glistened silver. The Chosen gazed up and broken clouds filled the sky.
Dax also looked up and whispered to the Chosen. “We will have a problem with the clouds. What do you think?”
“I think we do not have a choice.”
Dax grimaced and nodded. Another cloud drifted by, covering the moon. Now the moat became a rippling shadow of dark emptiness.
Silently, the group dashed to the edge of the moat and eased themselves into the cold water, without causing a splash. They swam quickly, but the cloud drifted clear of the moon, forcing them to stop. Treading water, the men tried to reduce the rippling around them. Even Tanas sensed the change and stopped, waiting for the signal to swim.
The Chosen looked up at the moon and its bright white halo, trying to estimate the time before the next cloud covered it. He then turned his attention to the mound surrounding the city. Guards patrolled the mound, marching along it towards the group’s position. As the guards came nearer, the Chosen glanced up again at the moon. The clouds closed in, but too slowly. He looked back at the mound. The patrol edged closer.
The Chosen whispered to the others. “We need to duck under the water if the guards get any closer. When you come up don’t make any noise.”
Rowet watched the patrol. When they were nearly on top of the swimmers, he whispered hoarsely, “Now!” Breathing through their hollow reeds, the men remained under the cold, still water.
Minutes later, the group slowly resurfaced. The guards had passed. The Chosen looked up again at the moon and another cloud drifted in front of it. The men swam further on and reached the city side bank just before the cloud cleared the moon.
They scrambled silently up the escarpment, slipping several times, and prepared themselves to enter the city under the southern retracted bridge, through the sewerage system – but a thick metal grating protected the tunnel outlet.
Dax and the Chosen grabbed hold of the metal bars and bunched their broad shoulders. Pulling with all their strength, they twisted and heaved at the slimy metal bars. Stopping for a moment, the Chosen pulled out his dagger and scraped at the points where the metal rods were sunk into the rocky surrounds. Seeing what he was doing, Thade, Gammel, and Dax, also started scraping at the other joins. After a few minutes, the men stopped. Dax and Rowet grabbed hold of the greasy bars again.
Pulling and twisting the bars, the metal grate started to move. Dax changed his grip and started to push the top as Rowet pulled at the bottom. Rowet stopped and put his finger to his lips, then pointed up. Above them two guards were having a discussion. After a while, the guards moved off and the men got back to work. Slowly, the grating moved, grinding against the rock. Suddenly, the top and bottom of the grating slid free. They eased the grate down very slowly, not causing a sound. The men crept into the dark, dank, slimy sewage system and replaced the metal grate, wedging it with stones to secure it. Then they waited.
***
“Damn, what’s that stench?” asked Tanas, pinching his nostrils closed. “It smells like my head had been shoved up a horse’s arse.”
“I do not think you want to know, my friend,” answered the Chosen.
“So what do we do for the next couple of hours?”
“Well, I don’t think we can play cards or anything,” said Thade miserably.
“Welcome to my world, Thade,” replied Tanas.
“Thank you, Tanas, for the kind welcome, but I would have preferred more pleasant surroundings.”
The men chatted to pass the time, and Dax started one of his stories . . .
***
“Good ale is great but cheap ale can get a man in trouble. One night, I had a wager with some men in my company about who could sleep with the ugliest woman in the town where we were staying. And damn, guess what, I achieved that feat. I woke up the next morning, a couple of hours before dawn and next to me lay the woman from Hell. The size of three horses at the hips and her snoring sounded like thunder rumbling in my ears, which woke me. She had the breath like a sow suffering two weeks’ constipation, who had just broke wind. And the face was ugly, so ugly, I believe the woman must have been dropped from a dragon, landing in the biggest, ugliest tree headfirst, hitting every branch, stripping off every leaf. Moreover, she must have hit the ground with her chin, bounced back, and smacked her nose against the knotted bark – she was that ugly – her mother even disowned her.
“Well, I had to play this right, as my honour was at stake. I sneaked out of the inn and made my way back to our barracks. There my company of soldiers teased and taunted me about my visit to the maid’s room, which I vehemently denied. So I sounded the general alarm, marched back to the inn with my company of soldiers, and hammered on the door. The innkeeper opened the door and I announced there was a raider with his serving maid. I barged pass the man and stormed up to the room. Coincidently, in the maid’s room lying on her bed was one of the other soldiers in my company, snoring soundly.
“Some men saw me go upstairs but no one actually saw me go into the woman’s room. I could not admit to that, she was a horse, and that is an insult to horses. So that is the story of how I escaped being caught sleeping with the ugliest woman in the Kingdom.”
***
“I do not understand, how did the other man get there?” asked Rowet, confused.
Dax smiled a wry smile, hidden in the darkness. “Well, as I sneaked out of the inn, I saw the soldier, clearly the worse for the ale, sleeping in the common room. So I carried
him upstairs and put him in the maid’s bed.”
The others in the group could not stop laughing at Dax’s story, including the Chosen, and their joy echoed carrying down the slimy tunnels, disturbing a pair of filthy rats that scurried further into the darkness.
“We only have a couple of more hours, so try and get some sleep. I will keep watch,” said the Chosen.
But sleeping in Kal-Pharina’s sewage system proved impossible. No one slept that evening as clumps of waste matter and thick, gelatinous ooze flowed pass them, releasing a fetid reek.
“How does the moat flow?” asked Tanas suddenly.
“How do you know it flows?” responded Rowet, surprised.
“Well, how does it?” persisted Tanas knowingly.
Rowet smiled. “It is a great piece of construction undertaken many years ago when the city was built. Fresh water enters the moat via underground tunnels from the River Kal, to the northwest. The waste and stale water is expelled over there –” added Rowet, pointing, though no one could see the gesture. “– to the southeast. Hence the water flows around the moat. We can block the south-eastern tunnel to ensure that the water circulates properly and then open the drain tunnel so all the waste is removed. Otherwise, the foulest smell would be rising from the moat.”
“How do the bridges work?” asked Tanas with interest.
“Well, it’s not all that complicated, really. On top of the bridges along the edges, there are holes for teeth to fit in. The teeth are on massive wheels within the gatehouse. Men turn the wheels that pull the bridge in or extend it. Each bridge is pulled back into sleeve under the city.”
“And when they extend, why do they not fall into the water?” asked Thade.
“The bridges are strengthened with metal and there are counter weights at the city end, which also act as stoppers. The bridges are also guided through tight sleeves under the gatehouse, and this supports them, preventing them from dropping down into the moat – simple really.”
“Simple but clever,” added Dax. The others nodded their agreement.
Silently, they waited.
Chapter 21
