The Weapon Takers Saga Box Set

by Jamie Edmundson

  As Wracken left the stage, this Sevald took his place. He was tall, strong, long-haired like all his people, and if he had any doubts about speaking at a Krykker Moot, they were well hidden.

  ‘I once again take the opportunity to thank all of the Krykker clans for their help to us in our time of need. To the Krykkers of Dalriya my people say this: we understand you arrived here by Caladri ships. Please, the Kharovians outnumbered and overwhelmed our fleet. But we did not give it up. Here, and in other places, our ships are ready. Let us join with the Caladri to defeat the Kharovian menace, that threatens both Dalriya and Halvia.’

  He looked at them then. It wasn’t desperate, or pleading, but it was a look that demanded a response. Rabigar found himself nodding in agreement, even though he had no control over what the Sea Caladri did.

  ‘As for this question of the Giants. Our stories say the Giants lived far to the west. Where exactly, and how to get there, none of us here know. It is a dangerous land, which none of us have ventured very far into. There are Vismarians, of an adventurous nature, who have journeyed into the west. Nothing good has ever come of such expeditions. In particular...’ Sevald paused. He looked reluctant to continue. ‘There is a family whose home is in the north west. They—’ he paused again, ‘they claim to be descended from Giants. They are an eccentric group, even by Vismarian standards,’ he said, allowing himself a smile. ‘No-one has heard of them in months. They may have been killed by Drobax. The probability is that they have. But I am willing to lead a group back into Vismaria to try to locate them. If anyone can offer you a specific location, or route, it is them.’

  The Moot continued until everyone who wished to had their say, but no more progress could be made. They had succeeded in getting the support of the Halvian Krykkers, and of their allies, the Vismarians. But the more they had learned, the more the recovery of the Spear sounded like a challenging and problematic task.

  It was time to return home. Crombec took them back to the bay where they had arrived, for the rendezvous with the Caladri fleet. The ships were already there. The whole fleet had made the passage, testament to their concerns about a Kharovian attack. Bidding Crombec farewell, they spotted Red Serpent and made for Captain Sebo’s ship.

  They were welcomed aboard. Farred had made the journey again, though he and Sebo both wore grave faces.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Rabigar, sensing they had news to tell.

  ‘The Isharites have invaded the lands of the Grand Caladri,’ said Farred. ‘The Caladri who had resettled their lands were forced to retreat all the way back into the Krykker mountains.’

  ‘We had expected the Isharites to return, possibly to move against us,’ said Maragin grimly. ‘We must prepare to defend against them.’

  ‘There’s something else,’ said Sebo. ‘The Caladri who escaped say the Isharites had a monster with them.’ He exchanged a worried look with Farred. ‘They say they had a dragon.’

  Straton and Ampelios travelled under armed guard in one of the supply wagons as the army made its way back to Heractus. Diodorus and his soldiers left to return to his estates, while the rest of the army began the return journey to Heractus, making a camp in the open a day’s march from the capital.

  The mood was low. Theron and Sebastian had ensured they remained in control of Kalinth, but it had been an empty victory; an unnecessary loss of life. Theron was drained, physically and emotionally, and went to sleep as soon as he got the chance. So Belwynn decided to seek out Clarin. She had barely had a chance to spend any time with him since he had returned from Samir Durg.

  She found him sitting with the rest of the escaped prisoners outside their tents. With no need to worry about enemy scouts any more, the soldiers were building their fires high to keep off the night chill, and drinking up the last of the ale and wine in the army’s supplies. Clarin and his friends were no different, but in other ways they stood out. They were an intimidating looking group, scarred men with grim, thin faces. Then there were the two Dog-men, former servants of Ishari who had become Clarin’s loyal hounds. With their powerful, protruding jaws, and their clawed hands, they had a monstrous appearance in the flickering light of the flames. These were Clarin’s people now. They had all changed since they had left Magnia nearly a year ago, Belwynn knew that. But she felt that Clarin had changed more than most.

  He saw her standing a few feet from the fire and hastily got to his feet. He came striding over, his long legs making up the distance in no time.

  ‘Hello Belwynn,’ he said. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. ‘Would you like a place by the fire?’

  ‘I’m fine. I just wanted to say hello. I feel rude, like I have been ignoring you. But we’ve all been so busy the last week. I’ve good news, too. Soren spoke to me from the Jalakh Steppe. He got ill on the journey there, but he says he’s recovered now.’

  ‘That’s a relief. I’m glad you came, Belwynn. I’ve been wanting to talk to you. How about we take a walk to keep warm?’

  They strolled slowly around the camp, the fires of the soldiers lighting their way in the darkness.

  ‘Sebastian told me that you broke through the enemy line. You’ve really won his respect, he said they needed men like you. You could have a place here in Kalinth if you want. A valued place.’

  Clarin gave a nod. He seemed unimpressed with the compliment and the offer. No doubt he had other things on his mind.

  ‘I know how hard it is for you,’ she said. ‘With Herin. I had the same thing when Soren was captured. It was the not knowing that was the worst part.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It’s not easy. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, though.’ He paused, thinking, as if trying to choose his words carefully. ‘When I was a prisoner in Samir Durg I faced the very real possibility that my life would end there. We all did. It makes you think about your life—makes you look at yourself. I asked myself, if I was ever going to get out, what did I want from life? And the answer was you, Belwynn.’

  They both stopped walking. Belwynn felt taken by surprise, hadn’t seen this coming. She didn’t know what to say, just stood there gaping at him.

  ‘I love you,’ he continued into the silence. ‘I always have, but I was too young and stupid to do anything about it before. But I’m not that man anymore. I want you, Belwynn. I want to make a life with you.’

  ‘Clarin, this is so sudden. I didn’t know. It’s difficult, I—’

  ‘Theron?’ he asked, his mouth forming a sneer when he said the name. ‘I’ve seen how you look at him. But I don’t trust him. And he doesn’t know you like I do, doesn’t love you like I do.’

  ‘Clarin, stop. Stop for a second. I can’t think.’

  He grabbed her arm in his hand, holding it tight.

  ‘I don’t want you to think, Belwynn. Gods, I need you. I need you to say yes.’

  He was scaring her now. How much had he had to drink? How much of this was his emotions from Samir Durg, repressed for so long, now pouring out?

  ‘Let go of me, Clarin,’ she said.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, letting go immediately and looking ashamed.

  What do you want from me, she wanted to say, feeling angry. Why now? When it’s too late? If you had said this sooner. If you had arrived in Kalinth even a day earlier, and said all this, I might never have gone to Theron’s bedroom. But you didn’t, and I did. But she wouldn’t say any of that, because it would only make things worse.

  ‘Clarin, I’m glad that you’ve told me. But you must understand, I wasn’t expecting it. You need to give me some time.’

  He nodded, a mournful look on his face. ‘Yes. I’m sorry. It didn’t come out right.’ He sighed. ‘I’m a clumsy fool.’

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Walk me back to my tent.’

  When they returned to Heractus, Belwynn and Elana made straight for the Temple of Madria. Elana had to speak to her flock, who needed to be told about the outcome of the battle. The Church of Madria was busy, especially so after Elana’
s deal with Sebastian that it should be the only recognised Church in Kalinth. They had already taken over all the religious buildings in the capital. Now they had plans to expand into the local settlements and to the larger towns.

  Belwynn was keen to spend some time with Lyssa, and escape from the business of war and politics. The girl had been looked after at Elana’s Temple while Belwynn was on campaign, her time filled with chores, and she was happy enough. Belwynn had begun to teach her some basic reading and writing skills, for she was completely illiterate. It was a struggle. She didn’t really show much interest in it. Belwynn found herself wondering what to do with Lyssa. Other children her age were already learning a trade. Was that best for her? Should Lyssa be treated as Belwynn’s own daughter? And what kind of life would that lead to? Because what am I, exactly? she asked herself. Apart from the Lady of the Knights?

  Lyssa was a town girl, and Belwynn resolved to teach her something of country life. They spent a pleasant afternoon on a walk, just the two of them. Lyssa was captivated by everything, from a gurgling stream to a patch of wild flowers, from the birds signing in the trees to frogspawn in a pond. She talked nonstop, and they both felt disappointed when it was time to return to Heractus.

  It was remarkable how easily and completely she had withdrawn into this little world, and so it was a jolt to find Clarin pacing about outside the Temple upon their return.

  ‘Do you know what he’s doing?’ demanded the warrior.

  ‘What? Who?’

  ‘Come see.’

  ‘Alright Clarin, but let me see to Lyssa first.’

  She entered the Temple and made sure that Lyssa was suitably supervised before returning outside.

  He led her into the city centre. A crowd had gathered and Clarin had to take her closer before she could see why. A man knelt there, hands tied behind him. He shivered, face pale.

  ‘Who is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Count Ampelios, the nobleman who surrendered to Theron in the battle. They’re killing him anyway.’

  Theron approached the crowd.

  ‘No, Theron,’ she whispered under her breath. ‘Why do you have to carry out every unpopular task?’

  ‘Count Ampelios, you have been convicted by the royal council of treason. Your sentence is death.’

  An executioner approached, holding a large two-handed sword. Belwynn didn’t recognise him. She was sure he wasn’t a knight. If he was an official executioner of some kind, it looked a little better than the Knights doing it themselves.

  He didn’t waste any time and he did it well. While Ampelios was still kneeling, he launched a massive swing of the blade which cut the head clean off the shoulders. Belwynn turned away at that point, and many in the crowd screamed and cried out.

  She looked up. Clarin was looking at her.

  ‘Is that justice?’ he hissed.

  What did he want from her? It was horrible, did that make it wrong? She wasn’t sure what she thought.

  ‘Don’t pretend there are easy answers, Clarin,’ she said. ‘Leniency and gentility allowed Straton and Ampelios to escape and look where that got us. A bloody battle with hundreds of deaths. I don’t want that to happen again.’

  ‘Treason?’ Clarin said, pursuing the issue. ‘He was imprisoned here when the Knights took the capital by force, he escapes and fights for the heir to the throne, and that’s called treason? I know treason when I see it, and I’d use that word for someone else.’

  Belwynn looked around them. ‘Be careful what you say, Clarin, for Madria’s sake.’

  ‘Or else I’ll have my head cut off? I don’t understand, Belwynn. What has happened to you that you defend him like this? Why are you here, when Soren and the others are away looking for Madria’s weapons?’

  ‘Is that what this is, Clarin?’ she retorted, hearing her voice rise with anger and trying to control it. ‘Attack Theron so that I will fall in love with you instead? It doesn’t work like that.’

  He looked at her, a stunned expression on his face.

  ‘I think I’ll go,’ he muttered, sounding defeated. ‘If this doesn’t open your eyes, nothing will.’

  ‘I think that’s best.’

  She watched him go for a while, then walked away herself, keen to get as far away from the scene as possible. Before she realised where she was going, she found herself walking up to the gates of Heractus Castle. The guards let her in and she took the familiar route up the tower steps to Theron’s room.

  She knocked on the door. There was a rustle and he opened it.

  He stared at her, a haunted look in his eyes.

  ‘I saw,’ she said simply.

  ‘Oh,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t want you to see that.’

  He walked over to his bed, wearily taking a seat. ‘I’m sorry. You may hate me for it. But if we didn’t do that, demonstrate the consequences of rebellion, it would never stop. An endless civil war where we tear ourselves apart, with the Isharites waiting to finish us off.’

  Belwynn took a seat next to him.

  ‘I know all about civil wars,’ she said.

  He looked at her. It was a look of raw gratitude.

  ‘Thank you. For understanding. I never want to do that again.’

  He flopped down, putting his head in her lap.

  She stroked his hair, looking down at her knight.

  You would, though, she said to herself. If you had to, you would do it again.

  12

  Joined

  HIGH-PRIEST WULFGAR of the Temple of Toric would not have been Edgar’s first choice to conduct his wedding. But he was the leading prelate of South Magnia. He wasn’t the most spiritual of men either, but there was some benefit to that. He had kept the ceremony mercifully brief and to the point. After exchanging rings, and sharing a kiss, Edgar and Elfled could turn to face the congregation in the Temple as man and wife.

  Applause and cheers met them. On one side of the circular central chamber sat the South Magnians. Edgar’s best man, Wilchard, grinned over. Leading noblemen such as Otha of Rystham and Aescmar occupied the front rows with their families. Behind them, those less titled such as Oslac, mayor of Halsham, and Ulf the smith had been found room. On the opposite side of the room the front row was occupied by Elfled’s family. Her brother Cerdda, Prince of North Magnia, with his wife Irmgard. Their mother, Mette, had also made the trip. Behind them, foreign dignitaries, from as far as the Brasingian Empire, had come to witness the union.

  For it was a love match, Edgar was sure of that. But it was also, he knew, political. The rival families of Magnia were uniting. And, should Cerdda’s marriage remain childless, any children that Elfled gave him would perhaps one day lay claim to both parts of Magnia.

  He shared a look with his new wife, her dark ringlets of hair spilling over her white dress, and he knew he had never been this happy. But he also took a moment to acknowledge those who were not here. His father, Edric, dead these four years, whose statesmanship had paved the way for this marriage. His mother, too frail in body and mind to make the journey. Ealdnoth, his trusted adviser, and Leofwin, his rock of a bodyguard, both killed in Barissia by the bastard Salvinus. The same man who had dared to invade Edgar’s realm and desecrate this very temple. No. He would think no more of him today.

  Holding hands, Edgar and Elfled led the congregation out into the large temple complex. Toric had blessed the day with bright spring sunshine. They all gathered outside, everyone keen to have a word with Edgar and Elfled before they were called into Wulfgar’s hall for the feast.

  First was Coen, Duke of Thesse, not the kind of man to wait politely for his turn. With him was Frayne, the Midder chief who had fought with them against the Barissians. Edgar introduced them both to Elfled.

  ‘Ah!’ she said. ‘The heroes of Lindhafen! I have to thank you for keeping my husband alive last year! I would love to hear all about the campaign. Edgar never talks about it.’

  Both men beamed at the prospect of recounting their war stories. Elfled was very
good at all this; much better than he was. Edgar detached himself and located Walter, the new Duke of Barissia, who was standing with Russell, a soldier from Morbaine who was here on behalf of Duke Bastien.

  ‘Congratulations,’ both men said as he approached, before they each shook his hand.

  ‘Your new wife is stunning.’

  ‘Thank you, Lord Russell.’

  ‘You didn’t stand a chance,’ Walter added.

  Edgar laughed, turning to Russell. ‘I wonder when the new Duke of Barissia will be caught? Surely the most eligible man in the Empire?’

  Walter made a horrified face.

  ‘Ha, you look just like Farred when I mentioned the idea to him.’

  ‘Where is he?’ asked Walter. ‘I had been hoping to see him here.’

  ‘He’s too much of an adventurer to stay here, I’m sorry to say. He travelled with the Sea Caladri fleet north.’

  ‘I see. I hope he finds success. Freeing the Lantinen would be a welcome development.’

  ‘Couldn’t agree more,’ said Russell. ‘The Kharovians are a menace to all of us.’

  ‘How is Duke Bastien?’ Edgar asked Russell.

  ‘Bastien sends his apologies. The duchess is very close to her due date and he wants to be there for her.’

  ‘Of course. Please pass on mine and Elfled’s best wishes. And,’ he said, turning to Walter, ‘I must ask about news from the north.’

  ‘Bad news, I am afraid. We know that Siavash has won control over the Isharites. We had let ourselves hope that a civil war might occupy the enemy for some time. Gustav reports that a great battle took place in Haskany. The Haskans were defeated, Queen Shira killed. Arioc’s army was defeated there too, though he may have escaped. Siavash has restored Haskany and Persala to his empire. It can only be a matter of time before the Drobax are sent south again. They may be sent to Kalinth, or to the Krykkers. But we must prepare for the monsters to return to Brasingia. As we speak, my men are getting Burkhard Castle ready in case we must defend it again.’