The Godling Chronicles: A Trial of Souls (Book 4)
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“But neither of you is taking into account the speed in which this attack has come,” countered the king. “It has taken us nearly a month to make ready. They have landed after sailing from Baltria in the same time.” He looked around the room. “They must have departed while we were still fighting the first battle. Given that, we cannot possibly know how many ships may be coming.”
“What do you propose, your highness?” asked Maynard.
“I think the Reborn King intends to crush us here and now,” he explained. “To do so, he must take Althetas. I say we sail our ships out of harm’s way and march fifty thousand soldiers north. Then we allow the enemy to enter the harbor and approach our gates. Once they arrive we close in behind them. The rest of the army will go to Skalhalis in case I’m wrong and they land there instead.”
“But if they see the harbor is empty, they’ll suspect...” Maynard began.
“They won’t,” said Lousis, cutting him off. “We will set a blockade of merchant vessels flying the Althetan banner. Once the Angrääl ships are spotted, the fleet will retreat into the harbor and dock. They’ll think we are fleeing into the imagined safety of the city, frightened by their power. It will take them a full day to march an invasion force to the city gates. By the time they realize they have been duped, they’ll be trapped.”
Nehrutu nodded approvingly. “A sound plan. You keep our fleet out of danger and force them to engage on our terms.”
“But, your highness,” objected Maynard. “You will leave the southern kingdoms without support. Can you not at least send the other half of our army to their aid?”
Lousis grimaced. “No. Not until I know the strength of our enemy and the condition of our southern forces. If they are already defeated, and I’m wrong, I could be sending them to their death for nothing. We will need to be able to meet them with full strength. But if I’m right, this attack on the peninsula is a ruse designed to draw us away from Althetas. If they land in Skalhalis and it is undefended, they will have a foothold in the northern kingdoms.”
“Should we send word to King Victis?” asked Maynard, clearly displeased.
“No,” said Lousis. His voice was stern and commanding. “We cannot risk the plan being discovered.” He turned to Chiron and Bellisia. “I need your seekers to head south at once and discover the strength and position of Angrääl.”
They nodded in unison. Bellisia gave one of her seeker escorts a quick glance. He bowed and immediately sped away.
“I hope you’re right, your highness,” muttered Maynard.
“As do I,” said Lousis.
They spent the next hour charting where the fleet would lay in wait, after which the meeting adjourned for the commanders to make their preparations.
“Where will you be?” asked Lord Maynard as they were leaving the chamber.
The king grinned. “Not hiding. I will take command of the guard.”
Maynard scowled, but said nothing.
King Lousis decided to go to the dining hall, but by the time he got there, six more soldiers were surrounding him. All were wearing the colors of Lord Maynard’s personal guard. Lousis protested, but the guards merely apologized and remained anyway. Whatever their commander had told them, it was clearly sufficient to outweigh the king’s displeasure.
It took most of the day to organize the merchant vessels for the decoy. At first some demanded extra gold or tariff exemptions in exchange for the use of their ships, but a short talk with Nehrutu quickly ended the debate. Chiron and Bellisia sent word to the main army and had seekers patrol around the city looking for spies that might give away the plan. By the next morning the fleet was ready to sail and the merchant vessels ready to take up their positions.
King Lousis ventured down to the docks to watch them depart. He was accompanied by his escort, which by now had grown to twenty men and elves. A cold chill ran down his spine as he watched the fleet slowly sail away. Part of him hoped he was wrong. Even if Angrääl fell into his trap, there would still be war inside his beloved city. He would need to allow them to land for the plan to work. That meant death and destruction for his people, not on some distant battleground, but right on their doorsteps.
He thought of King Victis and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. An army of sixty-thousand men was far more than the southern kingdoms could match without aid. He knew that many would die. Villages and towns would be burned, and cities sacked. But if he was right, this was their only hope. If Althetas were to fall, the war would be over. The path west would be clear and Angrääl would have possession of the two largest ports in the world. If that happened, they wouldn’t need to march. They could literally starve out any kingdom that opposed them.
Once the army arrived, Althetas became a beehive of activity. The city walls were reinforced and defenses put in place around the harbor to slow the advance of invading soldiers. The moment everything was ready, Lousis ordered the gates closed and travel south forbidden.
Skalhalis was prepared as well. Although he knew an attack there was indeed possible, Lousis didn’t think it likely. Still, he’d had the elves send seekers to keep watch on the city for signs of enemy scouts, or perhaps even an advance force.
But a week had now passed without any sign of attack. Lousis was becoming increasingly anxious and spending most of his evenings at the harbor staring out across the Abyss. With no news coming in via messenger bird, and the elf seekers yet to return, he was even beginning to make tentative plans to send forces south.
On the morning of the eighth day, there was a knock on his chamber door. Lousis donned his robe and rubbed his weary eyes. Lord Maynard entered wearing full armor, his face tight with concern.
“What is it?” croaked Lousis. He grabbed a cup of water from his bedside table to sooth his dry throat.
“You were right,” said Maynard. “Angrääl ships approach from the southwest.”
Lousis felt a wave of adrenaline rush through his aging body. “Are we ready?”
Maynard lowered his eyes. “Your highness…”
“Spit it out!” he commanded.
“Three hundred ships,” he said unsteadily. “At least three hundred ships will land within four hours.”
Lousis swallowed hard. “So many.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. While I live they will not take this city. Check the defenses and man the walls - and have my armor brought to me at once.”
Maynard bowed and hurried out.
Lousis’ anxiety was now turning to dread. How could they have so many warships? How could Angrääl have mounted such a massive attack from just one port? He could hear orders being shouted from outside his door, together with the pounding of countless heavy boots running through the halls. He pictured the Althetan harbor in his mind, trying to see if he should change their plan of defense. He glanced up at the painting of his father. It stared at him tauntingly.
“Do you think you could have done better?” he shouted.
A young boy came in with Lousis’ armor piled high in his arms, the sheer weight of it making the thin lad stumble. Lousis held back a laugh as he took it from him. Two Althetan soldiers entered a second later.
He looked at the boy and smiled. The blond youth wore a thick leather tunic stuffed with cotton. It looked far too big on him, and gave him an even more awkward appearance. “What’s your name boy?” he asked.
“Fre... Fredman, your highness,” he replied nervously.
Lousis looked at the guard, his eyes unyielding. “You two wait outside. Young Fredman will help me into my armor.”
The guards slammed their fists to their chest in a salute and left.
“So, lad,” said the king. “Are you afraid?”
Fredman couldn’t bring himself to look the king in the eye. “Yes, your highness. I’m ashamed to say that I am.”
He gave the boy a fatherly grin. “No need to feel ashamed. I’m afraid as well.”
This time the boy met the king’s eyes, a confused look on his face.
&
nbsp; “What? You think a king can’t be scared?” Lousis continued. “I just heard that three hundred ships are bearing down on my home. Only a great fool wouldn’t fear that. Fear tells us when to fight, boy. It tells us when something is worth fighting for. I fear for the lives of my people, and the well-being of my city.”
“Do you fear for your own life, your highness?” he asked.
Lousis paused for a moment. His eyes grew dark. “I do. But not because I am afraid of death. I fear only that my passing will herald the death of Althetas.” He shook off his sudden melancholy. “But it is the same with any king. We all imagine ourselves to be far more important than we really are.”
“I think you’re very important, your highness,” replied Fredman. “I think the city would fall without you.”
Lousis smiled and walked over to the painting of his father. “Do you know who this is?”
“I’m not sure, your highness,” he replied.
Lousis chuckled. “No. I didn’t imagine you would. This is my father. His reign lasted longer than any king in our history. When he died the entire city despaired.” He touched the image with his fingertips. “I was terrified. So much so that I couldn’t properly mourn his death.” He turned to Fredman. “The first week after my coronation there was a massive fire in the merchant quarter. Fifty people died. I didn’t know what to do. My father was gone and I felt as if he had taken the heart of the city with him.”
“What did you do?” asked the boy.
“I hid,” said Lousis, with a laugh. “I hid in this very room, staring at my father’s image. I begged the gods to bring him back to save me.”
“What happened?” asked Fredman. It was clear he was having a hard time imagining the ageing king hiding in his bedchamber.
“Eventually I was called out to speak to the people,” he answered. “So I put on my bravest face and went down to the merchant quarter. I can still remember how scared I was. I just knew they were going to blame me for this disaster. I knew they would say it happened because my father was gone. But they didn’t. I climbed atop one of the few buildings that had escaped the flames and looked out on the devastation, then down at the faces of the people. They were looking to me for solace and hope. Not my father - me. In that moment I came to understand that the soul of the kingdom was inside of me, just as it had been in my father before, and his father before him. I fear that the city cannot survive without me because Althetas lives in my heart. With every single beat, it is forever here.”
He placed a hand over his chest to emphasize his point before allowing Fredman to place the shining breastplate over his head. “And I’ll do anything to keep that heart alive,” he concluded.
With his armor donned, he dismissed the boy and called for his guard. An elf warrior entered wearing shining black leather armor with a white lily painted on its breast.
“We will see to the docks and then go to the command center,” Lousis announced. Grabbing his sword from where it hung on the wall, he attached it to his belt.
When they arrived at the docks he could see the sails of the massive Angrääl fleet stretching across the horizon. Their own merchant fleet was already docking and disembarking. Lousis chuckled to himself. The plan had been to let the enemy think they were afraid of their might. Well, at least that part of the trap was no longer a ruse. Troops scurried about taking up their positions; the barking orders of their commanders sounding like an obscene melody.
“We must leave, your highness,” said one of the guards.
Lousis took one last look before turning away and riding back to the city. The command center was near to the city’s main gate. It was well defended, and even if Angrääl troops circled around they would be hard pressed to breach the walls or batter the gate down.
A large pavilion had been erected, in the middle of which was a round table with a map spread out on it. Standing alongside the table, Lord Chiron and Lady Bellisia were talking quietly with Lord Maynard. Aside from these three, plus a few soldiers and runners, the pavilion was empty. Most of the commanders were with their men. Everyone bowed as the king approached.
“All is ready, your highness,” announced Maynard.
Lousis couldn’t help but admire the old general. He knew he had family in the southern lands and desperately wanted to go to their aid, but never once had he mentioned them to the king.
“Then there is nothing for us to do but wait,” said Lousis.
Chapter 18
Nehrutu ran silently through the forest with Aaliyah at his side and an army of elves at his back. The flow raged through him like a torrent, illuminating the night and making clear every detail of the trees and brush. Even though they were still five miles away from the city walls, he could already see the sky glowing red from flames. He hoped that Angrääl had not breached the gates, but as they drew closer, his hopes diminished.
The humans were still several miles behind. Even without their heavier armor they would never have been able to keep up. Not that it mattered. The road from the harbor, though wide and well constructed, could not have accommodated their entire force at once. As it was, the fifteen thousand elves he had with him would be forced into a bottleneck. Speed was their only ally, and if the enemy were already inside the walls it would certainly complicate matters.
He listened to the hushed footfalls of his kin, impressed by their dexterity, especially as this was achieved without the aid of the flow. He knew how fierce they were in combat and allowed himself a smile. Whatever they were about to face, they would certainly triumph.
The light from the flames grew brighter as they neared the city, and sounds of clashing steel could clearly be heard over the roar of a thousand battle cries. Nehrutu reached out for signs of Vrykol, but to his great relief could find none. Pulling his blade free, he let out a primal yell. His brethren answered, their voices piercing the air like a thousand silver trumpets.
When they finally emerged from the woods and ran onto the harbor road they were only half a mile away from the city. From here, Nehrutu could see that the massive gates had indeed been shattered, also that flames were rising from the market quarter just inside the walls. Angrääl soldiers were still pouring in through the broken gates, while Althetan archers positioned on the high walls above continued to rain down arrows. But this line of defense could not last for much longer. The archers would soon be forced back once the enemy reached the guard tower steps that would allow them access to the ramparts.
The elves struck before the Angrääl soldiers even knew they were there, ripping into their flank and causing sheer terror as they hacked their enemy to pieces with cruel steel. Nehrutu and Aaliyah let flames erupt into the soldiers nearest to the gates, scattering them like ants. From atop the wall, cheers rang out and the archers instantly redoubled their assault.
The elf attack penetrated deep, forcing the soldiers back. Even so, Nehrutu knew that once the enemy had recovered from the surprise, his fighters would be outnumbered by at least three to one. From the corner of his eye he saw Aaliyah slicing through two men in rapid succession, then sending a ball of flame into the center line. Again and again he pushed forward, killing at least a dozen soldiers with fire and steel. But the Angrääl commanders were now organizing their men much better. Soon the advance was halted and Nehrutu was faced with an impassable wall of shields and spears. One by one the elves began to fall.
In a massive counter attack, the Angrääl soldiers suddenly surged forward. These troops were unlike any of those they had encountered near Skalhalis. With eyes bulging unnaturally large and crazed, they bellowed out their frenzied battle cries like men possessed. Several times Nehrutu was only just able to avoid being impaled. His heart then gave an almighty jump as he glanced over to see blood pouring down Aaliyah’s right shoulder. He cut down three men while maneuvering himself toward her.
“Pull back,” he shouted, both aloud, and through their bond.
She ignored him, instead casting another fireball directly ahead, i
gniting wood and flesh. Nehrutu looked to the walls. The Althetan archers were gone. “Pull back now,” he repeated, this time even more forcefully. She glared at him, still unwilling to respond. There was nothing else for it. He moved in front of Aaliyah and forcibly pushed her away from the lines. “The archers have fled,” he told her. “We must protect our kin.”
Just as the words came from his mouth he spotted Angrääl bowmen taking up positions on the ramparts. Aaliyah saw them too. She nodded and retreated to the rear where elf bows were already bent and ready. The thwack of a hundred bowstrings sounded, sending white fletched elf arrows streaking through the air. Bodies dropped from the walls, screaming on the way down. The return volleys were deflected by a tempest sent skyward by Aaliyah and Nehrutu. An instant later it was calm again as the elf archers let loose another round of certain death.
In spite of this success, they were still being forced back as the Angrääl soldiers gained more momentum. After half an hour Nehrutu feared they might be forced into full retreat, but then he heard the clamor of steel and heavy boots coming from behind. He looked around. The humans had run far more swiftly than he would ever have thought possible.
The human reinforcements charged in, engaging the enemy with unparalleled fury and skill. Nehrutu knew that most of the men were from Althetas. The sight of invaders at their shattered gates and their beloved city in flames was clearly giving them unnatural strength and determination. Within minutes they had regained lost ground and turned the tide of the battle. Nehrutu suddenly felt a deep kinship with all those who lived within the city walls. He imagined what he might feel should it be his land that was being invaded.
Angrääl had apparently run out of archers and the ramparts were now clear. He ran to the left flank and ordered it to pull back. One of the human captains scowled when he heard this.
“We have them,” the captain protested. “Why leave them an avenue for escape?”