Fall of a Kingdom

by Michael Greenfield

  Farsighter had drawn his sword from the wrap round it and pulled out a battered scabbard. The scabbard was rolled lengthways, but as soon as he let go of one end it rolled straight and snapped into place. Cal stared at it for a second before Farsighter explained.

  “Rangers are not welcome everywhere. It helps if you can disguise whatever might be construed as offensive if you can. There’s a special arrangement of whetstone inside the scabbard that hangs straight and locks, allowing you to keep the sword sharp whilst it is sheathed, but also able to hide it all if you need to. If you know where the catch is, then you can disassemble the sword into just as short a packaging. Now is not such a time.”

  Silently Farsighter moved out of the door and away from the shelter. Cal followed as close as he dared as the older man moved slowly up the hill and came to a stop shortly below its crest. Carefully he eased himself down onto the grass and slid forward so that he could see down into the shallow valley on the other side. Cal followed his every movement and within seconds was beside him.

  There was nothing in the valley, but just over the northern lip of the next hill they could both see a feint glow being given off by a small fire. A shadow moved round the base of the next hill and Cal gave a start. Farsighter said nothing, just motioned for Cal to stay where he was before disappearing into the darkness below.

  For what seemed like hours, but was really only a few minutes, Cal waited in the dark for Farsighter to return. In fact he concentrated so hard on trying to see him returning up the slope of the hill that he nearly died of fright when a hand touched his shoulder. Spinning, he saw Farsighter stood with his finger to his lips for silence.

  They both returned swiftly to the hut where Farsighter grabbed both packs immediately. He threw Cal’s to him and shouldered his own, then immediately started back along the path at a run, back toward the road. Confused though he was, Cal said nothing until they had returned to the road itself and had made a couple of miles along it.

  “Why the rush?”

  “Conserve your breath. Shalers.”

  Cal’s breath caught. Shalers were Elven, in that they were the same species as elves, but they were almost primitive compared to the elves he had heard stories about. They were also extremely violent and it was not unheard of for small groups of travellers to be attacked, or even for a larger party of them to sack isolated villages. But they normally lived up near Needle Lake, almost ten days march to the north, what were they doing here? Cal didn’t have the time to ask these questions because Farsighter did not slow his run after half an hour as he had for the previous two days. If anything, he appeared to be gaining speed.

  They had covered ten miles before he finally slowed. As they stopped, he made a point of listening to the sounds of the night. The rain had finally stopped and the chorus of night creatures could be heard from around them. Whilst they stuck to the road, the birds along the sides would be disturbed little, as they were fairly used to traffic moving back and forth, but if anything moved through the undergrowth near the sides of the road, then they would react.

  The thought had no sooner travelled through his mind than the sounds of the birds in the undergrowth stopped. His hand was already reaching for his bow as he saw Farsighter draw his sword from the scabbard that still hung from his side. His eyes caught movement from the left and he pivoted. His hand flowed over his back to the quiver that he had moved there after the shock of finding out that there were Shalers in the area and he found the arrow nocked and drawn even before he realised what he had done.

  Farsighter had vanished into the undergrowth and it suddenly occurred to Cal that standing in the middle of the road was probably not the best idea in the world. Slowly, never taking his eyes off of the spot where he had seen the movement, he backed to the bushes behind him. Using all of his skill he moved in almost total silence, sliding into the inky blackness of the undergrowth. He sank down to one knee, remaining upright enough to still hold the bow drawn and ready, whilst presenting as small a target as possible.

  A figure staggered into the road in front of him. Wavering as it stood, it looked around almost desperately before a screech from behind caused it to turn. Cal had never seen a Shaler, but he had heard the descriptions often enough. Tall, lean. He could not see the ears but he knew that they would be slightly pointed with no lobes. Their weapons of choice, the bastard sword and the bow.

  This particular one carried its bastard sword raised and ready to strike. The figure in the road let out a scream of pure terror and turned to run, but collapsed before it could get two steps. Cal didn’t even realise that he had released the arrow until he saw the Shaler flung back by the impact of it. It had pierced straight through the leather jerkin it had been wearing and killed it instantly.

  Another figure appeared further down the road and cried out when it saw its comrade on the floor with the arrow standing erect from its chest. Cal’s hand flew as several others appeared. Rising from his crouch Cal took two steps forward, his eyes seeming to lock onto each individually as he drew the string and released. One after the other they were flung to the ground. The last two decided that enough was enough, but before they had a chance to flee another figure stepped out of the undergrowth from behind them.

  Farsighter stepped smoothly between them, his sword flicking out. The first was cut across the chest before the former Ranger passed him, pulling the blade through a circular movement that brought it straight across the second Shaler’s back and upward again toward the back of the first’s neck. Neither had a chance to even scream as the reverse of the stroke almost took the head off the last attacker. The swordsman stood silently for a moment before kneeling to wipe the blood off of the blade, using the Shaler’s own clothing for the task. Then he rose again and turned toward Cal.

  His eyes took in the sight of seven bodies with arrows spitting them and the sight of Cal stood over the body of another, before he moved quickly to join him.

  “A survivor?”

  Cal looked up as if seeing him for the first time. “He was the first through the bushes. It looks like they were chasing him.”

  Farsighter knelt before the fallen figure and turned him over. Staring up at them was the face of a young, brown haired man, maybe six or seven years older than Cal. He was crying silently to himself.

  “He’s taken a few wounds, but they’re not serious. I’d say that he’s more exhausted than anything. We need to move him, now.”

  Cal looked back at the undergrowth from where the Shaler’s had come. “How many others?”

  “I found four, but there could easily have been more out there that I didn’t see. If we keep going we should be able to make Gellda by dawn. We’ll take turns in helping our friend here.”

  Cal nodded. Slinging his bow over his shoulder he quickly recovered four of the arrows he had fired that were still usable, before bending down to assist the man to his feet. Even though he was still visibly shaken, he appeared to realise that the two men lifting him meant no harm and didn’t struggle. Farsighter had been right about his exhausted state, and he was in poor condition to move quickly, so it was two hours past dawn before they saw the smoking chimneys of Gellda.

  A crowd quickly gathered around them as they trudged along the main street of the village until Cal saw a face that he recognised.

  “Aunt May.” The woman in question looked shocked that one of the bedraggled trio should know her until she realised herself who it was.

  “Dear Gods! Cal!” She ran forward, calling for her husband as she came. She then set about the gawking villagers, sending one off to fetch the village healer, whilst she got three others to fix up a makeshift stretcher. By the time that her husband arrived, she had everything under control.

  The exhausted man had been carried to the village inn, where there was a long table that he could be laid on until the healer had a chance to see him. Cal and Farsighter had also been ushered toward the inn so that they could sit and get something to eat and drink. Cal’s uncle s
trode into the room and took in the scene at a glance.

  “Hasn’t anybody got anything better to be doing than gawping all day?” The shout made several people swing round. Cal’s uncle Tal followed the family trait that Cal himself had broken, in that he was broad shouldered and big. The perfect build for a blacksmith, which he himself was for the village of Gellda. In fact, it seemed to Cal, not being broad shouldered was not the only family tradition that he was breaking with. Cal’s grandfather had taught both Tal and his father, before Tal moved to Gellda in order to set up his own forge.

  Most of the crowd reacted by immediately turning and leaving the inns interior. Several stayed, but they were mainly the women of the village who were clucking over the prone man while they waited for the healer. The healer himself arrived only a few minutes later.

  Cal saw Farsighter and his uncle talking over by the door, and deciding that there was nothing for him to do for the moment he strode to one of the chairs arrayed in the corner and sat. Suddenly, a wave of nausea rose through him. He lurched up and sprinted for the privy out the back of the room. He just made it in time to avoid throwing up over himself, and stood for some while, bent over and shaking.

  He was still trembling slightly when he returned to the room to see that most of the women had gone, and so had the man they had brought in. Seeing that his uncle and Farsighter were now sat at one of the tables with a mug of ale each he joined them. His uncle eyed him appraisingly, while Farsighter seemed to be concerned.

  “Feel better now?”

  “Much.” It was almost a whisper, Cal had not realised how dry and parched his throat was.

  “Here.” His uncle walked to the bar, leant over and poured another ale into a mug. He returned and placed it in front of Cal. “Arran won’t mind under the circumstances.”

  “Thanks.” He took the mug and drained half of it in one go.

  “Something they forget to mention in the tales.” Farsighter chuckled. “It can get bloody scary being a hero.”

  Cal smiled a rueful smile. “I didn’t feel it at the time. In fact, it wasn’t until I sat down that I felt anything. Then it just seemed to overwhelm me.”

  “Aye, it can be like that at times. I didn’t get a chance to say much earlier, but that was an incredibly brave and calm thing you did last night. I’ve told your uncle, but I think that it might be better if we don’t mention it to your aunt. Women have a funny way of seeing things, and she might not like what she hears.”

  “You’ve got that right.” Tal looked Cal in the eyes. “Nine bloody Shalers and you just stood there calmly and mowed them down as if you had a scythe.”

  “I can’t explain it. When I had the bow in my hand, it was like I wasn’t really there. Everything was so focused; I just naturally knew which of them to take when, and my arms almost seemed to work on their own.”

  “I might be able to explain that for you.” Both of them looked at Farsighter. “I’ll not vouch it’s the truth, but I’ve heard that Lighter weapons hold magical properties. They won’t make an expert out of a novice, but they allow the bearer to hold their calm during the tightest of situations. You still need the skill to use the weapon, but if you’ve got that skill, you’ll become an extremely dangerous opponent when you use it.”

  Tal nodded, as if agreeing. “How long will you be staying?”

  Cal was about to say that they would be moving on again as soon as they had rested when Farsighter spoke. “I think that we had better wait to see what are friend upstairs has to say.”

  “You saw the badge.”

  “Aye. The dragons head in front of the crossing lightning bolts, he was a king’s man, but what was he doing being chased by Shalers?”

  The trio fell into silence as they pondered the question. Cal had not seen the badge in question, but he knew that there was little reason for a kings man to be anywhere near Needle Lake, where the Shalers lived. The patrols that were supposed to keep them in check were mounted by Lord Marig, out of Holdur.

  The three lapsed into silence for a while before Cal spoke again. “When do you think he’ll be able to tell what he was doing up here?”

  “That’s a good question. He’s been through quite a bit over the last few hours by the look of it.” Tal looked at Farsighter questioningly.

  “He suffered no life threatening injuries, but even so, it could easily be tomorrow morning before he wakes up again. Best if we just leave it until then.” So saying, he produced a pipe from the folds of his cloak and proceeded to start producing respectable clouds of smoke.

  “What do we do now?”

  Farsighter glanced at Tal and smiled. “I don't know about you young master Ironsson, but I'm going to see if your aunt could be convinced to cook a man some breakfast.”

  Cal looked first from Farsighter, then to his uncle before he joined in the laughter from the two men.”

  It was early that evening when one of Cal’s younger cousins was sent to tell him that the mystery stranger had regained consciousness. He had actually been dozing himself, having made his way across to his uncle’s smithy earlier that afternoon. Now he found himself running across the street to get to the inn where he had arrived that morning.

  Arran, the owner of the inn, stood behind the bar and just pointed up the stairs as Cal ran in. “Second room on the right.”

  “Thanks.” Cal didn’t slow much as he headed upstairs. When he reached the door that had been indicated he stopped for a moment before tapping the wooden frame and stepping through.

  The stranger was sat up in bed, resting his head against the backboard, his face looked grim, whilst Farsighter sat on his right. Both men turned their heads to him as he entered.

  “Cal, take a seat.” Cal grabbed the only other stool in the room from the corner and placed it by the bed on the opposite side from Farsighter. “I’ve only just arrived myself so you haven’t missed anything.”

  “And I thought you would just be interested in my state of health.” Cal was surprised that the statement came from the prone man. The follow up laughter was forced, and spoilt slightly as he started coughing half way through it.

  Farsighter grinned at the man before replying. “I’ve already checked with the healer as to the state of your health. He says that as long as you stop trying to outrun Shalers for a few weeks you should be fine.”

  A dark look passed over the strangers face. “That might not be possible.”

  “Oh.”

  “I have to get to Lord Marig as quickly as possible.”

  The statement hung in the air for a moment before Farsighter responded. “Perhaps you should start by telling us who you are; it wouldn’t do for companions on the road to travel as strangers.”

  “I thank you for the offer but I am capable of travelling on my own.”

  “An interesting idea. My name is Magron Farsighter, my young friend,” he gestured toward Cal, “is Calmagyr Ironsson. And you might be?”

  The reply took a moment before he decided to respond. “My name is Dorrin Boraan, Lieutenant of the Royal Guard. Nephew of His Majesty King Sielan.” Dorrin seemed to sit up straighter as he spoke, as if just saying the words was returning some of the confidence that he was renowned for.

  Cal sat open mouthed as he heard the pronouncement but Farsighter found it all very amusing. “You forgot to mention Adept of the Arts, regional controller of the Farseeing Observatory in Joorat, a fairly successful merchant in his own right, and a rogue who used to think that he could spy on the Rangers whilst they trained without anyone noticing.”

  If Cal was open mouthed, it was nothing compared to the expression on Dorrin’s face as Farsighter reeled off the list. “But how?”

  “It’s been a few years but I’m hurt that you wouldn’t recall me.”

  Dorrin looked closer at the older man before recognition spread slowly across his face, replacing the confused look. “Commander?”

  “Farsighter whilst we are out here. Now perhaps you would be so kind as to tell me wh
at, in all that’s holy, you’re doing up here with a group of Shalers chasing you?” it was phrased as a request, but Cal got the impression that it was not. He also wondered why Farsighter had asked the man his name if he patently knew it himself anyway.

  Dorrin also appeared to have decided that it might be as well for him to speak plainly.

  “Myriana turned fifteen three weeks ago. We were escorting her to see the Seers.” Cal sat transfixed as he listened to the young man tell of his return to the campsite, only to find that he was too late to save the Princess. He described the figure he had seen leaving the scene, accompanied by the Shalers that carried the young girl.

  He had tried desperately to fight his way through the throng of alien looking creatures that stood between himself and his charge, only to be forced back by sheer weight of numbers. He had been forced to flee the scene, with the Shalers chasing after him relentlessly. For three days he had been driven south, continuously seeking a way to throw them off of the scent so that he could return to tracking the kidnap party, but to no avail.

  By the time he reached the stage of the story where he had finally stumbled onto the road in front of Cal he was in tears. Cal himself found that his eyes were becoming moist.

  “The last thing I remember was this figure by the road. I’ve never seen the like. I know that the Shalers were following me out onto the road, but he just calmly raised himself to his feet and began to launch arrows straight past me.”

  Farsighter became thoughtful for a moment. “Knew there was something I meant to do.” He stood and moved round the bed to stand at the side of Cal. Before the youngster could react, his left ear was delivered a stinging blow as the former Ranger clipped it hard. “Never stand in plain sight of the enemy if there’s cover available. Even if there isn’t you should still never stand up straight.” So saying, he walked back round to the stool he had just vacated and sat down again.