The Best of Men - an epic fantasy (Song of Ages Book 1)

by Wilf Jones

  Only the flies remained. In their shortage they tried to make feast on the two men and their horses. The flies swarmed thicker with every yard they progressed. The horses began to kick and buck and the men flapped their arms frantically. It was intolerable.

  With a grunt of disgust Tregar moved his hands to mark out an ancient pattern and spoke words in a language that Seth could not have understood. His command killed thousands of flies in a second and made the remainder depart in search of easier pickings. The ground beneath them was suddenly brown and black and crackling. Though relieved, Tregar wasn’t certain he had done the right thing. He had used magic as the God had advised but it had seemed too easy an option; and was it right to destroy so many creatures simply because they were an inconvenience. There was an arrogance implied by the action that Tregar didn’t like at all.

  ‘Whatever you did, I’m glad you did it,’ Seth said. ‘We’ve too much to bother about wi’out being plagued with flies. I don’t like it, Tregar: there’s not a body about.’ The youth’s brow was furrowed. He peered uncertainly along the length of the deserted High Street.

  ‘Can ye see any monsters down there, Seth?’

  The farmer’s lad took a few seconds to realize that the wizard wasn’t being serious.

  ‘It’s not right to mock, Mister Wizard. Monsters or not, something bad’s happened here. I’m off to Mr. Richard’s, are you comin’?’

  Tregar felt slightly sheepish.

  ‘If that’s where ye need to be, then why not?’

  They clattered through the town raising a racket but there was no one left to hear or to make complaint. Seth galloped on and Tregar struggled to keep up but at the pottery gates the lad pulled up sharp. The gates were open, as was usual, nothing threatening or odd was in view but Seth seemed suddenly reluctant to pass through.

  ‘Whatever’s waiting for us, Seth, it won’t change for us dithering out here.’ Tregar had some sympathy for the lad, frightened of what he might find. ‘Look, why don’t you show me the way?’

  Seth pursed his lips and then nodded. ‘You’re right,’ he said ‘Best to get it done. Let’s go.’

  Passing through into the yard Seth began to call out.

  ‘Hello! Hello! Ro? Rowie! Where are you?’

  There was no reply. His voice was plaintive.

  ‘Mr.Richard? Jez? Is there anyone?’

  ‘Give it up lad,’ Tregar puffed out as he dismounted, ‘There’s no one here; but let’s have a look inside shall we?’

  Seth led the way down around the kilns, in among the stacks of fired pots, through the wheel sheds and finally up to the tall house. Tregar had an idea of what they might find. The lad, of course, expected the worst, but Tregar wouldn’t offer him comfort until he was sure. Inside the open and half-empty cupboards and drawers, the pale squares on the walls where paintings used to hang and the general lack of clothes told them half a story. The inhabitants had packed up quick and gone. Tregar wanted to know the where and the why.

  ‘Ye know the people of this house well?’

  ‘You might say,’ the youth replied with a tremulous voice half way between the fear of what might have happened and the relief that so far it had not. ‘My intended, Ro – Rowena that is – she lives here with her father and brothers. I thought they’d been murdered in their beds. I thought… Where’ve they gone, Mr. Wizard? I’ve got to find her.’

  ‘Calm yourself lad! There’s been no murdering. There is no death here. I’d guess that they carefully packed up their valuables and left the house and town in an orderly fashion. And I don’t think anyone has been here since they left, or at least no villains anyway.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Seth demanded, his intuition clouded by emotion, ‘Perhaps that’s where all the clothes and jewels and paintings went int’ first place.’

  ‘No, no, no! Look here: the kitchen, tidy, clean as a whistle. Ransackers don’t regularly do the dishes before they leave.’

  ‘I suppose. Aye, that’d be Rowie, she’s very house-proud.’

  ‘Well c’mon then,’ said the wizard, ushering Seth out of the house, ‘A lot of people on the road must leave tracks. They’ll all have gone together, if I’m right. So where would you go from here if an army threatened from the North?’

  ‘I’d go to t’ Stewpot,’ Seth said without hesitation, ‘if I were by myself, that is. If I were travelling wit’ kids and all, though, I reckon I’d go down onto t’ River Plain. There’s lots of roads to choose from down there.’

  ‘Right then, let’s check the West Road.’

  Altiparedo, Aegarde 3057.7.25

  It was a short man dressed in black directing the proceedings. He sat on his horse yelling out orders and, by the way he kept flinging his arms around, Colm guessed he was also swearing a lot. None of the words yelled or sworn were audible at this distance but it seemed obvious that his efforts were dedicated to getting his lazy rabble of a force to stand in some sort of battle array.

  ‘He doesn’t look too happy.’

  ‘He’s finding it hard to get them to jump to. What you are seeing, Colm, is the arrogance that comes from having things your own way for far too long. They think it’s going to be easy.’

  ‘A good time to attack then.’

  ‘What, the two of us against a hundred?’

  ‘Mmm. A bit one sided you think? Well just me then, that’ll be fairer.’

  Roar lowered his spyglass and turned to remonstrate. ‘You know you really are the—’

  But Colm was grinning. ‘Just getting you going, Roar.’ Colm couldn’t help it. The old man was so easy to rile and taking the rise was Colm’s favourite sport. ‘Face it, before we go in I’d need to know more about these sorcerer types. Can you make them out?’

  ‘Look Colm, there will not be a point when I sanction ‘going in’. We’re here to observe and that’s that. Now pipe down while I try to figure out what they’re up to.’

  He went back to his close reconnaissance and Colm decided to leave it a while. Without the benefit of Roar’s spyglass Colm gazed all around trying to take in the scene as a whole. They lay beneath a bush up on a slight swelling of the land some quarter of a mile away from the action. The action was a cluster of men on horseback gathered just out of bowshot of the wooden walls of a small town, milling about as if they had nothing better to do on this sunny summer’s day. Up on the town’s walls, presumably upon some walkway, hundreds of the townsfolk watched nervously. But Colm could see the sunlight glinting on dozens of arrow-tips. They were scared but determined to make a fight of it.

  ‘Not enough of this Black Company to lay siege.’

  ‘No,’ Roar agreed, ‘and they don’t seem inclined to even try. Look they’re pulling into shape at last. Just a line of what? Say thirty on each side of the main group. No ladders, no rams. I don’t know what they think they can do with a formation like. Not exactly set out to make an attack… oh.’

  ‘What is it?’

  Roar gritted his teeth.

  ‘Can you see the group in the middle.’

  ‘Well I can see them, but not clearly.’

  ‘They have prisoners. I can see women and children and some men, all tied together, surrounded by some of this Black Company on foot.’

  ‘They’re going to bargain for them. Look there’s a horseman headed out towards the gates. With any luck they’ll shoot him.’

  Roar was outraged. ‘It’s parley. We just don’t do that. And what do you think they’d do to the prisoners after? You just don’t think do you.’

  ‘Oh, I think alright, I just don’t think the same as you.’

  Roar returned his attention to the parley.

  ‘Doesn’t look much like bargaining. More like an ultimatum. You should see their faces. One or two defiant as you’d like but most look plain terrifie
d. That’s it. He’s done and heading back.’

  ‘Short and sweet.’

  ‘Short anyway. There’s a lot of arguing up on the walls.’

  ‘What are they doing now? The Black Company I mean, with the prisoners… Are those stakes they’re setting up?’

  Roar swung back to see. And then he was silent for a minute or so.

  ‘Here,’ he said finally, passing over the spyglass, ‘take a look. They mean to torture them. One family at a time. Teach the townsfolk a lesson.’

  Colm’s face turned red with fury.

  ‘The bastards,’ he exploded, ‘He’s going to bleed them. That child… If he touches her I’ll kill him. I knew we should have attacked.’

  ‘No. We shouldn’t. The odds are against us achieving anything.’

  ‘Not if we got the townies on our side. We go in, I do a lot of damage to the soldiers, you take care of the sorcerers. We can give them something to fight for. Come on Roar. We have to.’

  Roar pursed his lips, reluctant to say anything.

  ‘Don’t do this, Roar. They’ve already started on the mother… stripped her down… and…’ Colm threw the spyglass away from him in despair. ‘Listen to her, Roar. Just listen.’

  They were not far enough away for this to be just some mute show. The mother’s yelps and screams of pain, the husband’s impotent shouts of threat and fear, and the squalling of their young daughter all carried through to their unwilling ears.

  Roar clenched his jaw as if the action could hold him still and banish the rage. Now was not the time to be weak.

  ‘We stay here. And we watch.’

  Colm beat the earth before him with the heels of both fists.

  ‘You’re a coward, a stinking little coward. This how you’ve lived so long: running away from fights? Hiding behind orders? Well, answer me you bastard.’

  Roar could have reacted badly to Colm’s accusation. It was a ridiculous insult. But Roar was determined to do his job, and do it properly. Trying to cut out the hideous sounds of torture he retrieved the spyglass and trained it upon the scene once more. But there was more to see than the agonies of the victims. He had already marked out three of the sorcerers. One was the skinny, almost orgasmic torturer, another was the huge man wearing some sort of hood or mask standing nearby – by his poise, the man in control of events – and the last, a grossly fat man, sitting some way off upon a padded chair, apparently busied with eating jellied sweets or something similar.

  ‘Right. So what are you looking at now? Enjoying the view?’

  ‘I am looking, Colm, to see what these sorcerers are doing. They’re supposed to be the key to all this. And there were supposed to be four of them but I can see only three.’

  ‘Who cares what they do. Not as if you’re going to fight them is it.’

  ‘It’s our job to find out how they operate. Ah, there he is. Over by the stream.’

  Colm, still in a rage, managed just about enough self-control to take a look.

  ‘Man on the horse? He looks odd somehow… white?’

  ‘An albino by the look of it. But… what is he doing?’

  ‘You tell me, you’ve got the glass.’

  The albino was gesturing at the water below him. The stream ran past him towards a grilled culvert in the wooden palisade and then on through to feed the town. Looking closely Roar could see that the surface of the water was frothing with movement but even with his spyglass he couldn’t make out why.

  ‘I’m going to have to try the sight.’

  Colm sneered.

  ‘Sure you can manage?’

  ‘Can you do it?’

  ‘Well no, but it’s a bit of a lame trick when those bastards are out there killing people.’

  Roar shook his head. ‘Just shut up and let me get on with it.’

  He had to concentrate hard. Some people could use the sight as easy as breathing but of the two of them young Colm hadn’t even begun to understand the beginnings of the skill, and old Roar still found it a tremendous struggle. At least the distance was short and need was pressing. With his eyes closed, the better to focus, he homed in on the water rather than the albino. For a few moments water was all he could see, churned into a froth, but then…

  ‘Ugh.’

  ‘What? What d’you see?’

  Roar slumped as he stood, his shoulders dropping as though utterly defeated.

  ‘It was all a distraction. All of it: the ill-discipline, the captain ranting, the parley, the torture. All just to keep the townies looking out, instead of running away.’

  ‘I don’t understand. What’s he doing?’

  ‘Rats. He’s filling the place with rats.’

  Colm pulled a face but he was unimpressed.

  ‘Can’t stand’em myself but a few rats eating the supplies won’t—’

  ‘Did I say ‘a few’? There are thousands of them. And they’re not normal rats. Too big. Teeth are wrong. I don’t think they belong in this world. You remember we thought they didn’t look set up to attack? They weren’t. They’re set up to finish off any that get out alive.’

  Colm was confused.

  ‘But why would they come out…’ And then the truth of it hit him. ‘No. You’re joking.’

  ‘I am not. Listen: it’s begun.’

  Sure enough, something new to assail their senses tore through the air: frenzied, agonised screams of pure terror that grew in number with every passing second. It was appalling to hear.

  Roar took a deep breath. ‘It’s a massacre— Colm. Colm stop! What are you doing?’

  Colm had launched himself onto Gyrax.

  ‘Don’t you dare, Colm. Come back, for Gods’ Sakes come back!’

  But it was too late. Colm had kicked up Gyrax into a mad gallop and was charging down on the albino with murderous intent.

  Roar shook his head in despair. So this was it. He pulled himself up onto Calliope’s back, paused a moment to fondly ruffle her mane and sighed.

  ‘I’m so sorry my Calliope. He will be the death of us – I know it. But I must try.’

  The mare tossed her head in response just once. And then she walked on proud and defiant.

  High above them all, riding high on a current, almost out of common site, Cuahtemoc heard the call and changed his stance and picked out his first target.

  Hannaydale 3057.7.26

  There was a trail for all to see and to follow if they had a mind. The moisture from the nearby river kept the road softer than was usual in Summer and so the ruts made by hundreds of carts, the hoof prints of horse, goat and cow, and the tracks of two thousand people had written clearly the story of an evacuation. In haste the refugees had taken what they could and were heading for the Hypodedicus and maybe, eventually, the city of Riverport.

  What worried Tregar was not that the people had left their homes but that he couldn’t understand why. Using his little practised but competent sight he failed to identify anything malevolent, or even dangerous, within thirty miles. That distance was the approximate limit of his ability. Neither was there any physical evidence of any enemy to be found: the town was untouched and the un-trampled crops were firm testimony to the absence of armies. Tregar mused upon the food that lay there un-harvested and the people forced to leave their livelihood.

  ‘I wonder if we will have to fire these fields,’ he said aloud, ‘The grain could benefit our mysterious enemy.’

  ‘It could,’ said Seth, who was now more manly, reassured about the whereabouts of his loved one, ‘It could if we left them time to cut it. What we should lay hands on, and burn if we can’t take it, is the grain that’s already been taken in. And the milled flour, and any o’the salted meat. That’s what they’ll be after if they’ve any sense. Mind you, if the wind were right, burning fields’d
be hard to cross. We must remember that if we get the chance.’

  Tregar was pleased with the lad’s common sense and told him so: ‘Seeing as ye have all the answers,’ he continued, ‘what do you think we should do now?’

  ‘That’s not so easy,’ said Seth and Tregar was pleased to see him grin, ‘Not for me at any rate. You’ll guess I want to follow the track and catch up wi’ em. They can’t have been gone more than a day and they can’t go fast wi’ cattle. But I’m supposed to be guiding thee, not running after women.’

  ‘Ye must do as you see best, Seth. I wouldn’t stop ye from going off to find your Rowena and I certainly wouldn’a criticize ye for it.’

  ‘Aye, thy mightn’t but me dad and me brothers’d give us some stick alright.’ Seth laughed ruefully at the thought. ‘I reckon she’ll be alright wi’ her dad. Best out of it. Don’t worry, I’ll get thee home before I tek me own way.’

  ‘Good for you. And good for me. My confidence at route finding has taken quite a battering recently. For now though, I think we’d best get back to town before night comes.’ He nodded toward the sinking sun. Though they had set out reasonably early the moors had been difficult to cross and it had been six o’clock by the time they reached Hannayford. They were at present a straight mile out of town. Tregar was doubtful about their safety, not trusting his ‘Sight’ more than he had to, and he wanted to hole up for the night. Seth, however, was not easy about going back to Hannayford.

  ‘It gives me the creeps, all those empty houses; but there’s a house over there. Can’t we try that?’

  He pointed out a slate roof, not a quarter of a mile away, thrusting up over the tended trees of an apple orchard. Tregar agreed and so they rode on till they came to the drive leading to it. As they turned onto the cinder track Seth shouted out, making the wizard jump.