Resurrection (Book 1: The Chronicles of Chaos)

by Graham Carmichael

  Chapter 25

  The second army of chaos had waited nearly a week before the Ghost ships returned. Now, they were back at Cursed Isle and being boarded ready for the second invasion force to hit the mainland. Bhryll was giving the orders this time. The inhabitants of Cursed Isle feared The Watcher but that fear paled in comparison to the sheer terror they felt in the company of Bhryll. Over the past few days, Bhryll had been formulating plans. With his first army safely across the water, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before the Kingdom of Thorntonvale fell. He had bigger plans though. The world was a far bigger place than a single kingdom. On the same continent as Throntonvale, three other kingdoms joined borders. Far beyond the Sacred Hills to the west, the kingdom of Pentrik expanded to the western shores of the continent. This was a relatively small kingdom but its people were fanatics. They did not regard the lives of those in the other kingdoms as being worthy to share the same patch of land as they did. Their isolation suited them because it made them feel as if they were the only ones in the world. Many years ago, they instigated many wars on the other Kingdoms to try and eradicated them. Their failure turned them into terrorists; sending raiding parties to attack small villages. Thorntonvale was well protected by having the priestesses of the Sacred Hills blocking the way through. The other kingdoms, especially their immediate neighbours, were not so lucky. Spanning the northern border of both Pentrik and Thorntonvale, the kingdom of Velile covered the largest area of land. Velile was almost four times the size of Thorntonvale. It covered most of the northern shoreline and half of the western coast. Despite its land mass, the population of this kingdom was not much larger than that of Thorntonvale. A cluster of large towns built in close proximity in the very centre of the Kingdom, was the enduring image of Velile. To the east, spanning a small part of the northern shoreline and the entire east coast was the kingdom of Daldeline. Here lived a race of noble and powerful warriors. Their virtues meant that the only time they could go to war was when the cause was just. The neighbouring kingdoms were all separated by a massive set of mountains spanning from the south-east shores of Thorntonvale, north-west to the centre of the island. From there they ran through the centre of the island before dropping south to form the Sacred Hills. As Bhryll looked over his map of the main continent, he was plotting his next course of action. He figured that Thorntonvale would be destroyed and fully occupied within the next six months. He would then use the sea to manoeuvre his three main armies; one to each of the other continents. Bhryll figured that with effective planning, he could simultaneously take each continent whilst he remained in Thorntonvale to oversee the development of that kingdom. The first change he would make would be to build a massive fortress. It would be virtually impenetrable. Huge black walls would encircle a tiered city. The lower tier would be largely open space but it would be filled with crypts and statues for his skeletons to abode. Tier two would house the spiders. Both the first two tiers would be dug down into the ground. Actual ground level would start on tier three. Here, huge gothic homes would be built that would house the Orcs and Goblins. This would encircle the centrepiece of the city. A large castle would be created in the centre. It would be more like a huge manor rather than a castle. This was his dream.

  A voice from behind brought his attention back on the job at hand.

  "Sir, the ships are loaded and ready to depart." said the Goblin commander.

  "Depart immediately." Bhryll commanded. “I shall lead the final force to the mainland when the galleons return.”

  The commander bowed and departed. Within minutes the ghostly galleons were crashing through the choppy water taking another army to the shores of Thorntonvale. In less than a week, Bhryll would arrive on the mainland at the head of the final attack force. It would not be long before the god of chaos claimed the throne of the kingdom.

  Another day and night passed. The King had now taken almost four days to reach his destination; his injured leg hindering his progress. Finally, he could see the dull grey walls of Beskholme sitting on the horizon. This sight spurred him to hobble faster. His broken leg had pained him ever since leaving the lair of the Sinratta.

  “I should have drunk some more of that stuff just to dull the pain.” He thought to himself, referring to the drink in the goblet that had been offered to him.

  Attached to his belt, a silver whistle shone in the early morning sunshine. It had been given to him on his coronation. The whistle was meant to attract attention in case someone or something attacked him. It was distinctive from other whistles due to its tone. Instead of being high pitched like most whistles, a blow into this one would produce a deeper, more forceful sound. It sounded like a higher pitched horn rather than a whistle. The King felt that it was time to give it a try. He had never before attempted to use it; there had been no cause. Clutching it between his thumb and forefinger, he pursed his lips around it and blew hard. The volume of the sound caught him by surprise making him jump. The whistle dropped from his mouth and landed on the ground.

  “Boy, did that have some power.” The King said to himself, chuckling. He bent down a gathered it up from the floor. He wiped it on his belt before trying again.

  The watchman on the wall heard the noise clearly. He raised his telescope to see what was approaching. He could see nothing. The whistle sounded again. John was in the street sorting out a dispute between two guards over where a trivial defensive cover should be placed. Hearing the whistle, he shouted up to the watchman.

  “What is making that noise?”

  “I do not know sir, I see nothing.” The reply came. One of the older commanders approached John with great haste.

  “Sir, that is the King’s whistle.” He shouted.

  “What is the King’s whistle?” John said genuinely not knowing what the commander was talking about.

  “It was given to the King, passed down from his forefathers, for him to blow if he was in trouble. It has not been heard for many years, long before Henried became the King.”

  John wore a troubled expression.

  “Commander, send out a group of men immediately to investigate. I will gear up and follow shortly.”

  The commander started barking commands at the guards who were on duty. The gates swung open and out poured fifty men. John ran down the street to a small blacksmiths shop. There he gathered up a sword and shield and then ran to the stable to acquire a horse. As he rode down the street, trying to avoid the defensive obstacles in his way, he spotted Conrad. He pulled up along side his friend.

  “We think the King is here and he is in trouble.” John said hurriedly. Conrad immediately jumped onto the back of the horse.

  “Let’s go.”

  They galloped out of the gates as fast as the horse would carry them.

  “I hope you exercise more control over this horse than the last one I saw you ride. I would like to return with all my limbs intact and with fresh undergarments.” Conrad said sarcastically in John’s ear.

  John didn’t reply being too preoccupied with reaching the King.

  Henried watched the obvious panic as the guards approached.

  “Well, I guess this thing works after all.” He said aloud looking at his whistle. Then he noticed a horse approaching, overtaking the guards on foot. He couldn’t make out who was riding it from this distance but he knew that whoever it was, they were friend not foe. As the horse neared, he could finally see the face of his rescuer.

  “John, my lad, it is really good to see you.” Henried shouted. Before John could reply, Conrad leaned over from behind the large frame of John.

  “Hello.” He said cheekily.

  “Conrad, I should have known that you would be hiding somewhere.” The King replied.

  “Why change the habit of a lifetime?” Conrad retorted.

  “Why indeed.”

  John pulled up and dismounted.

  “Are you alright, my lord?” He asked noticing the cuts and bruising on the King’s face and the splint sup
porting his leg.

  “I am tired, battered and in great pain. I would like nothing more than to be bathed by a couple of buxom beauties. Do you have any in Beskholme?” He asked with a wry smile on his face.

  “I am sure something can be arranged.” Conrad said keeping the mood light.

  Finally the dreaded question came. John dared not ask the question for he knew that the answer would be painful to hear. Henried dreaded the question because he would have to relive his entire ordeal again.

  “What happened?” John asked.

  “I would like to enter the city and refresh myself first. I shall tell you after we have shared a supper together.” The King replied. With that, the guards finally caught up. Conrad helped the King onto the horse and they escorted the King to safety.

  That night, after a healthy supper, the King recounted the events of the past five days.

  “The enemy force was enormous, numbering many tens of thousands; too many to count. They used tactics we have never seen before. Giant spiders cast their webs to the top of the walls allowing the beasts to scale them like siege towers. The only difference is that each web had hundreds of routes to the top. The ramparts were overwhelmed within minutes. We were pushed back into the streets where the gates were battered down. A huge black figure calling himself The Watcher charged in with his minions and chopped through our men like a hot knife through butter.”

  “The Watcher is here? This is bad news.” Conrad said interrupting the King’s story, a look of concern on his face. “Was there any sign of Bhryll?”

  “Not that I could tell.” Henried replied. “If he had been involved in the battle, I did not see him.”

  “How did you escape?” John enquired. The King finished his story.

  “As the black figure made his way down the street, he finally arrived in front of me. We talked, briefly, before he attacked. His first and only blow was so hard, it would have split me in two had it not missed. The blade became lodged in the ground. As The Watcher tried to remove it, I stabbed him. He used his huge arm to club me. The next thing I knew was sitting up in an upstairs room of someone’s house. Seeing that the battle was lost, I fled from the rear entrance and back to the palace to use my personal escape route. There I met up with some blacksmiths and servants who I escorted to safety. I came here to tell you that we cannot stand and fight. They took my city in less than an hour. Yours will not last much longer.”

  “We have traps set; we should be able to do more damage than you did.” John said showing his lack of experience in warfare.

  “Traps will do very little to deter this army. Their numbers are vast; incomprehensibly so. Our only hope now is to unite all the armies that are left and to make one last stand.” The King sounded sorrowful. It was as if he knew what the outcome of the battle would be before even attempting it.

  “Where shall we make our stand?” John asked.

  “What shall the people do?” Conrad followed on.

  “The people will be taken to the Sacred Hills. There the priestesses will provide them with food and shelter. I do not know how they will cope but they made the offer and we shall accept it. As for where we shall make our stand, we shall use the land where James’ army awaits. There, we should have the advantage. Defences have been erected and the land favours nobody. Fighting within the confines of Thorvale’s walls; we could not move. To have any chance of victory, our warriors need manoeuvrability. Without it, all will perish very quickly indeed.”

  Silence filled the room as Conrad and John reflected on what the King had said.

  “Do you have any idea when the next attack may come?” Conrad asked.

  “I do not know but they did not seem to be in any great hurry. My best guess would be that they would wait a while, maybe a week or two, before continuing.”

  “It has been five days since the battle. That leaves us with precious little time until their army moves on us. We need to clear the city immediately, have everyone out by the end of tomorrow.” Conrad stated.

  “I agree. We need time to prepare though. My plan is to rig this entire city as one big trap.” The King said with an evil glint in his eye.

  “My lord, we have already pre-empted what needs to be done.” John began. “The have been told to prepare for an evacuation. They are ready to leave at any time. Also, explosives have been gathered and fully one quarter of the city is ready to be destroyed.”

  “Who has been handling the operation?” The King enquired.

  “We have had the artillery men working night and day to prepare. They seem to be doing a good job but it will take at least three or four days to complete the task.” John replied.

  “I just hope that we have that long.” The King began. “I want to start evacuating the people now. Maintain enough troops to finish the operations in the city but send as many soldiers as you can spare to escort the people to the Sacred Hills. This will be the biggest exodus this kingdom has ever seen. We are moving the combined populations of both Beskholme and Thorvale We must protect and reassure them; we owe them that much.”

  John looked at the King with an expression of doom on his face, “One more question, my lord?”

  The King looked at John, noticing the change of tone in John’s voice.

  “Who will stay behind to blow up the city?” John asked.

  For a long time, Henried held John’s gaze. Many thoughts ran through his head but by the time he spoke, his expression had turned almost as grave as John’s.

  “If I asked someone to do it, I would get many volunteers. If I ordered someone to do it, they would. However, the only person this responsibility should fall upon is me.”

  “Nonsense,” Conrad scoffed, “you are the King of this land. You are the person the people look to for leadership and comfort when all is going wrong. In this time of crisis, you are too important to be allowed to do this.”

  Henried locked a stern gaze on Conrad.

  “Who are you to tell me what I am and am not allowed to do? I, Henried, am the King, not Conrad the Cowardly.”

  Hearing his old nickname used, Conrad erupted into a fit of rage. “How dare you call me that, after all I have done for you? I do not care if you are the King, you have a duty, no, an obligation to help your people, but you are willing to throw your life away. I do not think it is I who is cowardly.”

  “You better start showing me some respect, Conrad. If you do not, I shall have you thrown in my dungeons for the rest of your life.” The King was speaking a little more calmly but his tone was cold; he meant what he said.

  “To be given respect, you first have to earn it. Giving your life up as a martyr to the cause is a noble gesture but it is the easy way out. As a citizen of this kingdom, I would like to see my ruler standing on the field of battle with me. I would like to see him take charge, offer a rousing speech and then lead us into what could be the last stand of the people of Thorntonvale. That would give me the desire to risk life and limb in a battle we are unlikely to win. I do not want to be commanded by a general.”

  The King’s expression softened. He turned away from Conrad and looked around the city. Then, after a brief pause he began, “I have already failed my people once; letting Thorvale fall. I shall not fail them again. You are correct, Conrad. I do need to lead the people.”

  John had been listening to the argument between the two gentlemen. Finally he spoke.

  “I feel that we should ask a citizen of Thorntonvale to carry out this task.”

  King Henried and Conrad looked at John with questioning expressions.

  “It is not fair to ask someone who has family or other such commitments. As we were preparing for the evacuation the other day, I came across an old beggar woman. She had nothing, her last pennies had been taken from her and she had no food or shelter. I asked her why she lived like this. It turned out that she was once a successful young lady with a husband and two children and made lots of money. They were slaughtered by the lord she worked for. She had dam
aged some of his fine garments whilst washing them. In a major overreaction on the part of that lord, he had her family executed. She has been a broken women ever since; longing to die so she could rejoin her family. I think she would be the ideal candidate.”

  “Where is this woman now?” The King asked.

  “I should imagine she is where she always is, outside the Working Mans Tavern where she begs.”

  “Bring her to me,” The King ordered, “I would like to speak to her.”

  It took John only half an hour to find the women and bring her to the King. As she approached, Henried could see that this was a woman who had lived a long and hard life. Her cloths were nothing more than discoloured, stained rags barely enough to cover her skin. Henried thought it a wonder that this woman had not died of exposure, as she had nothing else to keep her warm. Henried guessed her age at fifty but she looked older. Her face was cracked and hard; taking on a tough leather-like quality. But Henried could also see that this was once a beautiful woman. Her blue eyes, despite being lined with dirt, shone brightly. Her hair, now matted and grey, would once have been a long set of flowing blonde locks. As the woman neared she curtseyed.

  “Good lady,” the King began, “I am grateful that you agreed to meet with me.”

  The woman looked up at him, “Why am I here, my lord, beggars and kings rarely share the same space.”

  “I have recently been told the story of your life. It is tragic and I offer my deepest sympathy. I offer you a chance to rejoin your family.”

  With no emotion evident on her face she replied, “So you offer me death?”

  “No, I offer you more than just that. I offer you the chance to become a major part in this kingdom’s history. I offer you a chance to martyr yourself to vanquish an evil that is rapidly spreading across the land. I offer you the chance to enter the realm of the gods and be freely accepted, despite dying by your own hand. My good lady, you will be reunited with your long lost family.”

  A single tear trickled down the cheek of the beggar causing a clean line to be drawn down her face.

  “You offer me all I have ever hoped for since that fateful day almost twenty years ago. What do I have to do?”

  “You will sit atop the highest building keeping out of sight whilst the enemy army march into the city. When as many as possible are within the city walls, you will light a fuse that will be rigged up to explosives, strategically placed around the city. The explosions and the falling rubble will kill most that are within the city boundaries. What say you?”

  “What if I am captured?”

  “As I said, you will be positioned on the highest building. You should remain undetected.” The King looked confident in what he said. There was a long pause before a reply was given.

  “I agree.” The woman said.

  The King smiled, “Thank you. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

  “It is Arianna.” The Woman replied.

  “Well, Arianna, it is a brave thing that you have agreed to but I have an order for you that you will follow without question.”

  A dread feeling rose within Arianna; thinking that she may regret agreeing to this deal.

  “What is it?” She asked tentatively.

  “I want you to enter any house you like, take a long bath and get yourself cleaned up. I will provide you with some royal robes to dress yourself in.”

  “But why?” Arianna asked a little puzzled.

  “We cannot have you going to meet your family looking like this; can we?”

  Suddenly, forgetting all protocol, Arianna jumped forward wrapping her arms around the King. Henried was caught a little by surprise but he returned the hug.

  “Thank you, my lord.” She said gleefully.

  “You are most welcome. Now go. One of my guards will escort you wherever you want to go. He will help you find your new garments and will tend to your every need. The city is yours to do as you will. Come and see me in two days and I shall give you your instructions.”

  With that, Arianna departed.

  Work commenced that night and went on for the next day and night. All involved worked tirelessly. Some of the dynamite they were using was very old. Old dynamite becomes very unstable as it sweats pure nitro-glycerine. Luckily, there were no accidents. For once since this horrible ordeal had begun, it seemed as if the gods were helping them. As the new day dawned, the city of Beskholme was evacuated. The woman and children of two large cities set off West towards the Sacred Hills. The men, all of whom had been forced to enlist in the army, escorted them. However, they would only escort them so far. Theirs was a different destination. They would head to Bowton, where James had been preparing for battle, joining the last remaining force in the kingdom.

  The King watched the evacuation from the Western Wall of Beskholme. As he did so, Arianna was escorted to his side. Henried turned and looked at her in astonishment. Standing before him was not the beggar woman he had seen two days earlier but a woman of beauty. She may have been fifty years or more but dressed in the royal robes and with her clean face and long hair draping down her back, she looked lovely.

  “My lady, you look sensational.” The King commented.

  “I have not felt this good in years.” Arianna replied.

  Even though her skin was still cracked and leathery, the King could see a major change in her eyes. It was as if she had found the spirit within her that she lost all those years ago. Her eyes sparkled and her smile was that of an angel.

  Arianna continued, “My lord, you have saved me. You have given me happiness for the first time in twenty years. I can never thank you enough.”

  The King smiled, “Arianna, it is you who has saved me. I have ruled this kingdom for a long time but never have I felt that I have made such a difference to anything or anyone than I have for you. You have made me feel good about myself and made me realise what it is I am fighting for.”

  “Truly humbling words, my lord. Once again, I thank you.”

  “Good luck, Arianna. I hope your reunion with you family is a happy one.”

  With that, Arianna was escorted away to get her instructions for destroying the city.

  The Boats had returned to Cursed Isle. This time they were here to collect Bhryll. It had now been three weeks since the invasion of the mainland but at last the final army of chaos boarded the boats. Bhryll was the last to board. He stood on the bow of the ship looking back across Cursed Isle. No creature remained on the island except the priests who performed the ritual to resurrect him. All others were either on the mainland already or on the boats. As the boats departed, Bhryll let out an almighty scream.

  “Now is the time of chaos.”

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