Resurrection (Book 1: The Chronicles of Chaos)

by Graham Carmichael

  Chapter 19

  The adventurers had packed away their camping gear and were about to head back to Thorvale when the sound of galloping hooves caught their attention. Rhyll looked up to see a cloaked figure on horseback, charging across the plains.

  “Ho there.” He shouted. The cloaked rider looked in the direction of the camp and turned his steed towards them. As the figure neared, Conrad noticed something about the cloak the rider was wearing. It had the symbol of the Sacred Hills on it.

  “It seems our mystery rider is a Priestess from the mountains.” Conrad said.

  “Just how could you possibly know that?” Rhyll asked, always amazed at his friend’s powers of observation.

  “She wears the symbol of the Sacred Hills on her cloak. That means that she is either an impostor or a Priestess.”

  “And you can see the symbol, from this distance in the dark?” Rhyll asked, even more amazed.

  “I did not become a great thief by having poor powers of observation my good barbarian.” Conrad replied with a wry smile on his face. The rider was now upon them.

  “Have you come from the city?” Rhyll asked. The figure remained hooded but the voice that spoke was clearly female.

  “Yes. I departed as the fires began.” She said.

  “Do you have any idea how the fires started?” John asked eager to find out if he had been right but also dreading the answer.

  “It seems that a terrible power has been unleashed. There was a commotion at the palace. People were awoken from their sleep and left their beds to see what was going on. I looked out from my bedroom window to see the palace on fire. A strange figure was running down the street; fire spewed from its mouth. Others followed this creature; guards I believe but they had strange, emotionless faces. I could not tell if they were chasing the creature or following. As quickly as they appeared, the creature and guards had vanished out of sight.”

  “Did they leave the city?” Conrad asked coolly.

  “They were heading in the direction on the city gate. However, I could not say for certain. Judging by the trail of fire the creature left behind, I would assume that it is now beyond the city walls.”

  “Am I correct in assuming that you are a priestess from the Sacred Hills?” Conrad enquired.

  “Your assumption is correct.”

  “You seem to be in an awful hurry to get to where you are going. May I ask, why the haste?”

  “The evil that passed through the streets of Thorvale was an evil that my people thought was long since dead. I recognised the figure from the readings I had done as a student. If I am not mistaken, the evil was that of Bhryll, God of Chaos. If this is so, my people need to be warned so they can make the necessary preparations.”

  “What preparations do your people need to make?” Conrad asked again.

  “If that was Bhryll, he will not be content unless he is ruling the world. We need to make sure the Sacred Hills are locked down so that if humankind falls, a bastion of hope will remain. Now, I must make haste.”

  “Thank you for your time.” Conrad said. With that the priestess sped off into the distance.

  “We should make haste as well.” Rhyll said. “There is no telling what damage this creature may have done.”

  “Or who will be left alive.” Rhyll added.

  Conrad and Rhyll looked at each other, worried expressions crossed their faces. They both turned to look at John.

  “Is this what you had foreseen?” Conrad asked warily.

  “I do not know. I should be able to recognise the images I saw in my dreams if and when we come across them. However, I would not like to speculate. I do know that Isabelle is the cause. I can sense she is no longer with us.” John never took his gaze away from the fires in the distance. Rhyll and Conrad looked at one another again.

  “Let us get going, there is no time to tarry.” Rhyll said. Conrad nodded in agreement and finished packing his gear. They had to make the journey on foot. They set off at a sprint but it would be at least half a day‘s travel until they arrived back at Thorvale.

  As the party passed through the gates to Thorvale, they halted. In front of them was a scene of utter devastation. The cobbled streets were covered in rubble. Buildings on both sides of the street were burning; some had already collapsed. Amongst the rubble, charred bodies lay lifeless; the expressions on some of the faces showed that they had died in terrible pain. Lines of people had formed human chains to the city’s wells. Buckets of water were being passed along as the people desperately tried to quell the flames. John did not stop for long. He dashed down the street, dodging the crowd, to the palace. When he arrived, the roof of the palace was burning furiously. In the courtyard, all the survivors were gathered. Many were hugging each other for comfort. Others were pacing around, desperately trying to think of something they could do to help. Amongst the people in the courtyard, John noticed the distinctive figure of the King. He ran over.

  “My lord, what happened here?” John asked.

  “It pains me to think that nobody listened to you, John. It seems that you were right.” The King replied.

  “Where is Isabelle?” John sounded desperate. He had a pressing need to know what had happened but in his heart, he didn’t really want to hear it.

  “I know not what fate befell your sister. She may have perished in the fire. It is more likely that she somehow spawned that terrible monster.” The King paused for a minute, composing himself for what he was about to say. “John, I am afraid your Father is dead.”

  John felt his heart sink. For a brief second, all the noise and commotion from the streets and courtyard seemed to fade. A solitary thought crossed John’s mind, ‘I have lost my Father and Sister this night’. His thoughts then turned back to his Mother whom he had lost but one month ago. John managed to regain composure.

  “How did he die?” John asked choking back the tears.

  “From what little information I have gathered, he fought the creature. Your father bravely engaged the beast in an attempt to stop him. It was not an even fight and certainly not one your father could ever have hoped to win. Once slain, the evil creature reanimated your Father’s body.” The King paused for a second, finding it hard to find the words to say next.

  “John, I hate to be the one to tell you this but your Father now works for the enemy.”

  Emotions were swirling around John’s body. One moment he felt uncontrollable grief the next, pure anger. One emotion outweighed them all. It was desire. John had the burning desire for vengeance. Suddenly, John started to stagger. Felling both nauseous and dizzy, John collapsed to the ground. Vomit burst from his mouth before he passed out. Conrad rushed forward to tend to John.

  “He has fainted.” The thief stated. “Rhyll, fetch him some water.”

  Rhyll left to get the water Conrad had requested.

  “What shall we do next, my lord?” Conrad asked tentatively, not knowing if he should address the King at this time.

  “We now possess an understanding as to the reason Isabelle Tuner was kidnapped. She has been used to resurrect an evil and ancient god; one that holds the power to dominate this Kingdom unopposed. I can only speculate on his true intentions but I would expect he has a desire to wreak revenge on our race for destroying him and banishing his minions to Cursed Isle. I should imagine he has gone there to organise and unite the chaotic forces that inhabit that Island. When he has prepared, they will attack.”

  “Then we must organise a defence.” Rhyll shouted confidently returning with the water. He handed the bucket to Conrad who proceeded to work on resuscitating John.

  “If you had seen the power of this god, you may not have the heart to fight. He destroyed almost all of my guards in a matter of seconds. He then reanimated them to fight for him. He did this with no help from the guards he had already reanimated.”

  “If we cannot defeat them by hand then we strike before it gets to that. We mount hundreds of cannons along the coast. They will need ship
s to cross to the mainland. We will sink them before they arrive.” Rhyll said still sounding optimistic.

  “If rumours are true, the ships they will use are ghost ships. That means that our weapons will do nothing to them.”

  “You sound like you are willing to quit.” Rhyll shouted at the King angry with the defeatist attitude. “You are the King of Thorntonvale. Even if a war against the creatures of Cursed Isle and their false god is impossible to win; it is your job to give the people hope.”

  The King did not reply. His shoulders slumped, his head dropped, and he let out a deep sigh of resignation.

  “If you will do nothing, I will rally the barbarians and we will mount a defence in the Sacred Hills. The priestesses are preparing for this war as we speak. They will be ready, as will my people. If your people are not, you will be slaughtered.” Rhyll stated boldly. He no longer talked to the King with respect. He was playing mind games to get the King to act.

  John stirred on the ground. He opened his eyes and, aided by Conrad, rose to his feet.

  “What have I missed?” He asked seeming to be more relaxed.

  “It seems the King, here, will not act with haste. It seems that he may not act at all.” Rhyll said wearing his heart on his sleeve. John moved to stand next to the King.

  “My lord, with my Father dead, you will need someone to lead your armies. I will be willing to assume that role even though I do have the experience he had. I was taught well from an early age and feel that I could serve well. Conrad could help me.”

  Conrad’s face dropped and he almost choked on his own saliva.

  “I am no leader of armies, John.” He said rather taken aback at the suggestion.

  “Neither of you are.” The King said quietly. “I am the only one remaining with the respect and the right to command the armies of Thorntonvale. I will need generals however. Are you with me?”

  Conrad looked at John who in turn looked at Rhyll.

  “I am with you.” John said confidently.

  “I will command my barbarians to fight by your side.” Rhyll proclaimed. All eyes now turned to Conrad. He looked back at the people staring at him.

  “What?” He asked trying to pretend he had not been party to the conversation. The others continued to stare at him. It was making Conrad feel rather uncomfortable.

  “Alright, alright, I will do it. I would prefer to act as an advisor though.”

  “Very well then,” The King began, “you will be John’s advisor.”

  “That settles things then. Tell us which army we will be commanding.”

  The sound of someone clearing their throat, demanding attention, distracted them. They turned to see James.

  “My lord,” James began, “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

  “Well, if it isn’t the messenger boy. What can I do for you?” The King replied a little sarcastically.

  “Sir, I have just graduated top of the class at the academy. I was told by Paddy Turner that I was the best swordsman and tactician he had ever seen. I would like the chance to command an army.”

  The King pondered his words. He began pacing up and down thinking how best to use this young man.

  “Son, if Paddy Turner said that to you, you must be something special. As most of my generals were members of the King’s Guards and have fallen this night, I see no other choice than to grant you your request.”

  The King then had a long conversation with the group. He told them where their armies would be, what he wanted them to do and when they should leave.

  “We need to form plans for staging a defence. Go and get acquainted with your armies. Send out scouts and lookouts to look for any sign of an attack. We will meet back here in a week when the carnage has been cleared to formulate our plans.”

  With that the group dispersed.

  Rhyll and James departed instantly. Conrad and John stayed until the sun had risen and fallen again to help extinguish the fires. Their army was only half a day’s travel away. It was located in Conrad’s home town and Thorntonvale’s second city; Beskholme.

  *****