The Weapon Takers Saga Box Set

by Jamie Edmundson

  From the front of the tent a third figure emerged, the whites of its eyes focused on Edgar in the darkness. Edgar instantly knew that this was the Ishari wizard who served Emeric, and that his immobility was caused by the wizard’s magic. With the wizard’s focus fully fixed on him, he had no chance of escaping the spell.

  Where was Ealdnoth?

  Leofwin feinted towards Salvinus, who blocked at a strike that never came. Instead, Leofwin launched himself towards the wizard.

  ‘Stop him!’ the wizard screamed, turning his attention from Edgar to Leofwin.

  Edgar struggled to move, but somehow the wizard’s spell still kept him pinned down.

  The Ishari put out a hand towards Leofwin, and a bolt of magic leapt from his outstretched hand towards Edgar’s bodyguard.

  Leofwin cried out in pain, but forced himself to push through the bolt at the wizard. Salvinus had now caught up with Leofwin, and ran him through from behind.

  Edgar let out a silent scream as he watched his enemy slay the man who had been by his side since youth.

  Somehow, with whatever strength he had left, Leofwin kept his momentum going forwards. Edgar could see the wizard’s eyes open in fear, as Leofwin plunged his blade into the man’s chest, before collapsing to the ground.

  Suddenly, Edgar was freed. Rising, he raised the sword still clutched in his hand, and charged at Salvinus, who leapt out of the way.

  ‘It’s lost,’ shouted the mercenary leader, backing out of the tent.

  The Krykker, who had been contained by Brictwin, followed suit, exiting through the slit he had cut in the tent’s side. Brictwin rushed over to his uncle, stabbing down into the neck of the wizard to make sure he was dead.

  Edgar glanced down at Leofwin’s prone body before following Salvinus out of the tent. He could just see the mercenary ahead, making his way in between two tents.

  ‘Awake! Awake!’ shouted Edgar at the top of his voice. ‘Enemies!’

  He chased after Salvinus, determined not to let him out of his sight. Suddenly, his face had slammed into the dirt floor.

  ‘Shit!’

  He’d tripped over a damned tent rope. Pushing himself up, he looked for Salvinus. But he was out of sight, swallowed by the darkness.

  His men were beginning to emerge from their tents.

  ‘Two of them,’ Edgar yelled at them. ‘One of them was Salvinus, the other a Krykker.’

  Bleary eyed, the Magnian soldiers began their search, but Edgar knew that he had lost his best chance of catching Salvinus.

  With a heavy heart, he returned to his tent. Brictwin was kneeling next to his uncle’s body. He had turned Leofwin over onto his back, but there was no life left in him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Edgar, sinking down to his knees on Leofwin’s other side.

  ‘Don’t be, Your Highness,’ said Brictwin. The younger man’s face was grave, but there were no tears. ‘He died to save your life. He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.’

  A rustle of noise made Edgar look up.

  Wilchard entered the tent, blanching at the sight of Leofwin’s corpse. He locked eyes with Edgar.

  ‘I’m sorry, Your Highness. It’s Ealdnoth. They killed him first.’

  ‘No,’ Edgar moaned.

  Too much. The price he’d paid for this war. Too much.

  Shira walked gingerly towards the great doors of the Council Chamber of Samir Durg. She had been forced to endure a teleportation from the siege of Burkhard Castle all the way to the Isharite fortress. Her stomach roiled as if she was going to be sick.

  Waiting for her outside the room, as was his custom, was her husband. With Arioc stood Rostam, one of his lieutenants. Shira was surprised to see him here. As she neared she noticed a strange expression on Arioc’s face. She couldn’t quite identify what it was, but decided it was probably bad news.

  ‘Husband,’ she said to Arioc, nodding at Rostam as well.

  ‘Wife,’ said Arioc, with equal irony.

  Rostam had his usual smirk on his face. He was favoured by Arioc, useful as both a military commander and as a magus, though Shira was unsure how powerful his magic was. He was certainly an intimidating man, who wore only black and carried a black crystal sword, matching his dark hair and eyes. There were also the rumours that he was Arioc’s son. It was nothing Arioc had ever commented on, but it added to Rostam’s sense of self-importance, that was for sure.

  What a twisted little family we are, thought Shira.

  ‘Well, we have some good news,’ said Arioc. ‘Rostam has been promoted to the Council.’

  Shira couldn’t hide her surprise. Rostam’s smirk grew bigger.

  ‘Congratulations. But how?’

  ‘Nexodore is dead,’ replied Arioc. ‘I informed Erkindrix of this some time ago, but it took him this long to believe me. Rostam was appointed in a small meeting of the Council yesterday.’

  Arioc openly voicing frustration with Erkindrix was unusual. There was a strange tension in the air, something Shira couldn’t quite put her finger on. Arioc should have been happy. He now had both herself and Rostam, essentially two puppets, on the Council. Nexodore, one of his biggest rivals, had somehow been removed. Yet he still looked troubled.

  There was no time to find out more. Without further comment, Arioc moved to the doors to the Council Chamber and pushed them open.

  Everyone else was waiting for them. At the head of the table sat Erkindrix. Shira tried to avoid looking directly at him. To his left was Siavash, High Priest of Ishari, Erkindrix’s shadow. Next to Siavash sat Pentas, the haughty red-eyed wizard. To the right of Erkindrix was Ardashir, an Isharite said to equal Erkindrix in age, and who had been a loyalist for centuries. Sat next to him was a strange looking creature Shira had never met before. Logic said it must be Dorjan, King of the Shadow Caladri. He was a thin, wizened man—his limbs looked like they might snap if put to too much use. Yet at the same time he carried an aura of power that matched the others at the table.

  The full Council was here, for the first time since Shira had been made a member.

  Shira, Arioc and Rostam took their places at the opposite end of the table to Erkindrix. Shira was glad to be as far away from him as possible.

  ‘We should have had a victory by now,’ said Erkindrix with no preamble, his voice wet with saliva. ‘Diis is not pleased.’

  Diis, Arioc had once explained to Shira, was the being that inhabited Erkindrix. She hadn’t wanted to know more than that, and the mention of its name put her on edge.

  ‘Shira,’ continued Erkindrix, his grey eyes turning to her and the black eyes beneath burning like hot coals in her direction. ‘Why have you failed to conquer the Brasingians?’

  Shira swallowed. She was to feel the wrath of the dread lord, and neither Arioc nor anyone else on the Council would offer her the tiniest amount of support.

  ‘They have put up a stern resistance at Burkhard Castle,’ she explained, only too aware of how pathetic she sounded. ‘Even the Drobax have not yet been able to break through. When we take Burkhard, the rest of the Empire will fall.’

  ‘The Empire is proving tougher than we expected, Arioc?’ continued Erkindrix, his voice full of sarcasm.

  ‘Indeed. We have a setback to report. The forces of Duke Emeric have been defeated by a mixed force of Thessians, Magnians and Middians. I had not anticipated the intervention of the Southerners, for which I apologise. However, Rostam and I have completed clearing the Grand Caladri from their lands. The remnants of their race have been given sanctuary by the Krykkers. I am now free to deal with the Empire.’

  Shira went hot with anger, struggling to hold it in. Rather than backing her, Arioc had implied that he should take over the invasion of Brasingia.

  ‘I will decide who goes where,’ said Erkindrix, letting vent to his own anger. He pointed a finger at Pentas. ‘The weapons of Madria are still at large. They have found their way to Kalinth.’

  ‘Then he spirited them there himself,’ accused Arioc.

&n
bsp; ‘That is a lie,’ responded Pentas, remaining calm but defending himself. ‘Arioc had the chance to get the dagger and staff in Edeleny and bungled it. I have only just traced them to Kalinth. It would now seem that the Krykkers have raised an army and joined the Knights of Kalinth. I suspect they have their sword with them. They intend to go on the offensive.’

  ‘How could you have let this happen?’ demanded Siavash, looking around the table. Shira had never heard him speak before. He had a quiet but deadly sounding voice. ‘We have committed our forces to gain a quick victory. The longer the enemy resists, the more they could become a threat to us. The weapons should have been taken by now.’

  ‘Don’t forget,’ said Pentas, ‘that it was Nexodore who was tasked with finding Madria’s weapons, something he singularly failed to do. But this turn of events should be seen as an opportunity, rather than something to fear. Now that I know where they are, I can put my hands on three of the weapons at once. That will end the threat from Madria for good.’

  ‘I’ll get the weapons,’ snarled Arioc.

  ‘You just said you would deal with the Empire,’ Pentas pointed out smugly.

  ‘Enough,’ said Erkindrix. ‘Siavash is correct. We must deal with these threats quickly. A new army must be raised to confront the Kalinthians and Krykkers. All remaining forces in the north, including the Drobax, will be deployed. Rostam, you will raise this army and defeat the enemy. You will take some of the forces based here, and supplement them as best you can. Pentas, you will liaise with him, but your focus will be on bringing me the three weapons, as soon as possible. Arioc and Shira, you will destroy the Brasingians. Use Emeric’s forces or ignore them, but either way I must see this done. No more excuses. Ardashir and Dorjan, your campaigns have stalled. I need to see them concluded so that your armies can be redeployed. Anyone who fails me will be killed and replaced.’ Erkindrix looked around the table. ‘Anyone.’

  They left the Council Chamber. Arioc was quiet but Shira could tell that he was fuming. Rostam’s smirk had gone.

  ‘I’d better get straight to it,’ said the younger man. Shira knew what he was feeling. The exhilaration of commanding his own army for the first time, mixed with the responsibility. ‘Good luck in Brasingia,’ he added.

  Arioc and Shira nodded at him and he marched off.

  ‘How dare he threaten me?’ whispered Arioc hoarsely.

  Shira hadn’t seen him this angry before. She was unsure what to say. Caught between the hostility of Erkindrix and Arioc, she felt out of her depth.

  ‘I should have been put in charge of dealing with the Krykkers,’ he continued. ‘My record is flawless.’

  ‘Well, for what it’s worth, I agree.’

  And she did. Arioc’s presence could offer little to speed up the siege of Burkhard Castle. While Rostam and Pentas hardly inspired confidence as a team.

  ‘Greetings,’ said a smooth voice. Pentas, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. Shira got a creepy feeling, as if he had been reading her thoughts.

  ‘What do you want?’ snapped Arioc, full of hostility.

  ‘I will get the weapons,’ said Pentas confidently. ‘But still, all is not well. Erkindrix is getting weaker; his decision making less sound. This whole campaign has been poorly managed.’

  Arioc’s eyes opened wide. ‘Disloyalty. You play a dangerous game, Pentas. I should kill you where you stand.’

  ‘I could be an ally, Arioc,’ replied Pentas, sounding serious for once, looking him in the eye, doing the same to Shira. Those red eyes, repulsive and inscrutable. His gaze turned back to Arioc. ‘How long can we let this go on for?’

  With that, he turned and walked away.

  Shira raised her eyebrows, waiting for some comment from Arioc. But there was none. Instead, that unfamiliar expression had returned to his face. Then she realised what it was. A state of mind she had never witnessed in him before. Indecision.

  The Dramsen clan were a hive of activity: assembling, testing, and then firing their great siege weapons in the direction of the Haskan fortress of Masada. Making his voice heard above all the noise was their chief, Torinac. Instructions, advice, admonitions—all were hurled in a torrent of words at his hardworking soldiers. Whether he was any help; whether his men were actually paying any attention to him, Belwynn couldn’t be sure. But she admired his energy, nonetheless.

  She watched, fascinated, as the men working on the machines made their modifications. Each time, they got a bit closer to their target.

  Rabigar’s plan had asked for a lot. He wanted the biggest boulders that the Krykkers had carted with them from their homeland to be fired, not at the walls of Masada, but over them. That required such a huge amount of force that only their largest weapons, the trebuchets, could be used. The Knights had nothing as large as this, and so had been deployed to defend the army’s position, preventing any attempt by the defenders to destroy the great weapons.

  The Krykker machinists had to move slowly and carefully. The pressure on the wooden frame was immense, and if the beam holding the ammunition were to snap, those standing close by could be seriously injured. In addition, a massive counterweight had to be deployed to create enough force to send the boulders over the walls, and there was a danger that this could pull the whole contraption over.

  By the end of the day, the Krykkers had built two trebuchets that could successfully and reliably fire the required weight over the walls. Rabigar had wanted the boulders fired at night time, and so, in the gathering darkness, they were laboriously and carefully nestled into the trebuchet’s sling.

  The first weight was released, and everyone’s hearts were in their mouths as the boulder soared high up into the sky. Once it reached the top of its arc, the boulder descended quickly, but Belwynn could clearly see it come down on the other side of the wall. A thud could be heard as it hit, suggesting that it had landed on the ground within the fort’s walls.

  Everyone looked at each other for a while. They had done exactly what Rabigar had requested. Only time would tell whether his plan would work. Torinac gave the command, and the next boulder was loaded on.

  Rabigar waited. It had been a long time since he had stayed in rock for this long. He had to rely on the training from his youth, to make his mind ignore the feelings of claustrophobia and suffocation. If he let himself panic, he would die.

  Suddenly there was a massive crack above him, and Rabigar felt the impact as another boulder landed on top of his. He heard it roll off onto the floor. That’s a good sign, he told himself. It shows the targeting of the trebuchets is accurate. He waited until the noise of boulders thudding into the fort had stopped, and then he waited some more, just in case.

  It was time to move. He began to push his way out of the boulder. It wasn’t easy to get started from his position: fully encased in stone, lying all ends up. He pushed hard with his legs, pulled with his arms, until he forced his head out of the rock. He took a long, deep breath of air. The dirt floor of the fort was just a few inches beneath him. He wriggled free of the massive boulder, taking great care with his movements. He had the cover of darkness in his favour, but the fort’s defenders could be close by.

  Once Rabigar was out, he lay prone for a while, avoiding any further suspicious movement. He began to scan the area. It was difficult in the darkness, in an unknown environment, to get his bearings. He could see the outline of half a dozen other boulders around him. At one, then a second, he saw Krykkers slithering out. But he still wasn’t sure about their location. Slowly, he crawled around to the other side of the boulder. Here, he could see the outline of two walls. Where they met, at one corner of the fort, he could see a tower. So, they had made it, then. They had been thrown inside the fort.

  How many had survived? He crawled back around his boulder. He could see a group of Krykker meeting up in the darkness and joined them. He was relieved to see that one of them was Maragin. When he had first come up with the idea of using Krykker rock walkers to get into the fort, he knew that it was M
aragin who would have to be convinced. Guremar had been against the idea of course, because it was Rabigar’s. Torinac was easy enough to persuade. It was Maragin, as a rock walker herself, and as the leader of the best trained rock walkers from the Grendal clan, who would have the decisive say.

  Krykkers couldn’t move through just any rock, or they could have pushed their way through the fort walls. They could only move through Krykker rock, from their homeland. The fact that they had brought with them four carts full of massive boulders had given Rabigar the idea in the first place. But the only way for the plan to work was for them to enter the boulders and get catapulted over the walls while inside them. Rabigar had thought they would be relatively safe inside the rock, but he couldn’t be sure. Maragin had thought about it for some time before agreeing.

  ‘How many?’ Rabigar whispered to her.

  ‘Seven of us here,’ Maragin replied. ‘Seven still out there somewhere. It’s too dark to see where all the boulders landed. We’ll have to look for them.’

  Rabigar hadn’t fully thought through this part of the plan. In his mind’s eye, they would quickly leave the boulders and head for the fort’s gate. It wasn’t quite as easy as that.

  ‘We can’t afford to be seen,’ he warned Maragin. ‘We’d be better off going straight for the gate.’

  ‘Give me two minutes,’ she said.

  ‘Alright,’ Rabigar acquiesced.

  It had been more of an order than a request anyway. The other rock walkers were her soldiers, and would do what she said. They were all younger than Rabigar, and still had two eyes each, so he let them head off around the courtyard of Masada to locate their comrades. It didn’t take long. As he watched them move about, other figures emerged from the darkness to join up with them. The only delay occurred around one boulder. Rabigar could see two Krykkers push into it and drag out a body. They left it on the ground. So, one of them hadn’t made it: killed by the initial impact as they had landed on the ground, or perhaps by suffocation inside.