The Rise of Aredor

by Claire M Banschbach

  Martin approached again. “Sir, we’d best get moving if we want to get these families settled before dark and patrols are due back at camp.” He shot a meaningful glance at Darrin. The prince nodded and began issuing orders to the few men.

  Some of the villagers chose to return to their homes; and three families, including the queen, decided to go to the hidden forest valley. Owain and Marc guided the families to the settlement and Darrin, Martin, and the two remaining men escorted the others back to the forest’s edge.

  * * *

  Corin and his men arrived at camp before Darrin after commandeering a large supply train. Darrin found Corin sitting against a fallen tree, carving a piece of broken branch. Karif perched faithfully nearby on the massive trunk. Darrin sat next to him and Corin briefly acknowledged his presence.

  “Where’s Tristan?” Darrin asked.

  Corin shrugged and continued to carve. “He took off after Kadar. No one’s seen him since. Trey and Flynn have been out to look for him.”

  I might as well get it over with, Darrin thought, and then he asked, “What’s wrong, Cor?”

  As expected, he received no answer, but he was determined to wait Corin out. For a few moments, the only sound between them was the rasping of Corin’s knife against the wood.

  Finally, “Balkor has an unlimited supply of men. He can afford to keep attacking the towns. We’ve lost five men and have no way of replacing them. We’ve been out here for almost a month and what’s happened? Four villages burned to the ground, and to top it off, fifteen families that we have to provide for. Winter is coming on fast, and we haven’t laid up any supplies for ourselves, let alone them!” Corin burst out. “This is completely hopeless! We might as well kill ourselves now and save Balkor the trouble,” he muttered.

  “Corin!” Darrin said in sharp rebuke.

  “You know it’s true.”

  He is right, Darrin thought. He had been struggling to find a solution for days. There were many young children at the settlement who would need proper provisions over the winter. He also knew that they couldn’t fight the Calorins out in the open forever, and there was no hope of reinforcements. Darrin was reluctant to bring the Clans into the fight, for they might soon need all their warriors to defend against a Calorin invasion. This small band of warriors was Aredor’s last hope.

  “Corin, don’t give up yet. We’ve lasted this long, we can survive a bit longer. There’s always hope if you know how to look,” Darrin said before rising and walking away.

  A few hours later, a weary but triumphant Tristan rode into camp. He tossed a heavy, ornate scimitar to Darrin.

  Corin looked at the sword and then to Tristan. “How?”

  “In the back. He died like the coward he was,” Tristan replied. “It took me a while to catch him, he ran so fast. I only needed to get close enough to use the spear.”

  Trey clapped his brother on the back. “This should set Balkor’s plans back a bit.”

  “Hopefully,” Tristan said. “With Kadar out of the way, the other generals will be fighting among themselves to get appointed to his position.”

  “So the army will be without a commander for a day at least,” Corin said. Darrin looked carefully at him. It appeared that they had the same idea.

  “Their main camp is set outside of Caldor. It wouldn’t take us long to find them,” Darrin said.

  The men around them began to grasp the implications of their statements. Trey, keen as ever for a fight, spoke first.

  “When do we leave?”

  “Three hours’ time. We can try to catch them unaware before dawn,” Darrin said.

  As the men left to prepare, Corin caught his arm.

  “I’m sorry for what I said before. It seems I was wrong. We have a chance to end this campaign sooner than I thought.”

  “I don’t blame you for anything you said. I myself have wondered how much longer we can last.” The admission came bitter on Darrin’s tongue.

  “I said I’d follow you to death and beyond. I still hold to that,” Corin said. “When the time comes, I’ll be standing beside you.”

  Darrin clapped his shoulder with a nod. “Thank you, brother.”

  * * *

  The outlaws ate a quick meal before breaking camp and riding out into the night. The Hawk Flight found the Calorins sooner than expected. The enemy force had withdrawn from the village but had not gone far without the guidance of Kadar. Full two hundred men were camped below. Watching the campfires of the Calorins, the two brothers formed a plan for the morning.

  At dawn’s first light, Darrin rode up and down the ordered ranks of the Hawk Flight.

  “We are still severely outnumbered, but what we can do today will influence the remainder of this war. I only ask that you fight hard and true as befits the last warband of Aredor,” Darrin said.

  Corin tossed Karif into the sky. The grey hawk circled above them, shrieking his defiance. The warriors erupted with the time-honored war chant of Aredor. Strong as the mountains, lonely as the forest, steady as the plains, it rolled forth, echoing in the air and keeping time with the thunder of their horses’ hooves.

  The Calorins rushed to defend themselves but were too late. In later years, the Aredorian warriors would try to describe that charge. At that moment, though sorely outnumbered, they were invincible. The warrior blood of the north flowed hot through their veins, and they could have conquered a kingdom.

  Darrin and Corin fought side by side, and all fell before their shining blades. And together, they watched the Calorins, reduced to less than half their original force, flee. The Hawk Flight raised a great shout of triumph.

  “Behold the wolf and the hawk of Aredor whom no man can stand against!” Martin cried, lifting his sword. Warriors raised swords in a salute, shouting their acclaim until the air echoed.

  Then gathering their dead, the warband prepared to return to the forest. Balkor still controlled a sizeable army that could still easily overwhelm them. Upon returning to the caves, Kael, Owain, and a young man named Madoc were laid to rest beside their comrades in the silent forest glade. Spears into which their names were etched were thrust into the ground at the head of each grave. After a moment of silence, the warriors left the glade. Corin and Darrin were last to leave.

  “Eleven graves. Eleven warriors gone to Lleu’s halls beyond the stars. How will we replace them?” Corin asked quietly.

  “We will find a way. Maybe there are others in hiding who will now have a chance to join us,” Darrin replied.

  Corin smiled. “Tell me, Darrin, do you ever lose hope?”

  “As long as my brother stands by me, I won’t ever lose hope.”

  Chapter 17

  A few days later, Darrin shook Corin awake. Muttering something that Darrin identified as Calorin, Corin came fully awake and rolled over.

  “What?” he growled.

  “Come on, lazy. All you’ve done the past two days is sleep,” Darrin said.

  “That’s because some people actually need sleep.”

  “We’re going to the settlement. There’s someone I want you to meet,” Darrin said.

  Still grumbling, Corin rolled out of his pallet and dressed. Darrin waited patiently until he finished buckling on all of his weapons. As they left the cave, Corin knelt by the small stream at the entrance. Cupping water in his hands, he splashed it over his face as the cold water shocked him unerringly awake. Following Darrin to the valley, they caught and saddled their horses in the dim half-light of the morning. Karif flew up to perch on Corin’s shoulder as they mounted. Darrin waved to the sentry as they rode out.

  The settlement lay in the southwest region of Dunham Forest. It would be a few hours before they reached it. They rode in companionable silence along hidden forest trails. Karif flew off occasionally to chase small animals, but always returned to Corin. Midday saw them riding down into the valley. Young boys ran up to hold their horses, slightly in awe of the big stallions and their riders. Corin caught one staring openmouth
ed at him and Karif.

  “Are you really the Hawk?” a boy asked him.

  “Aye, I suppose I really am,” Corin replied.

  He gestured to the young boy to come forward. The boy did so hesitantly. Corin went down on one knee so that he looked directly at the boy. He clicked gently to Karif, and the hawk hopped down to his wrist. At his urging, the boy reached out and ran a finger down Karif’s feathers. Corin moved the boy’s hand to the side of the hawk’s neck. The boys began laughing as Karif made small noises of enjoyment as he was stroked. Darrin grinned as he watched Corin talk with the children.

  “Do you fight the Calorins all by yourself?” one asked.

  “Not all the time. Sometimes he helps.” Corin nodded to Darrin.

  “No, silly,” another boy chided. “He has a warband, huger than the king’s!”

  “Well, I don’t know if it’s huger than the king’s. Maybe one day,” Corin said. He stood as Karif cried out. Looking up, he saw the object of the hawk’s focus. Karif spread his wings and flew from Corin’s wrist in pursuit of a wood pigeon.

  “Is he gone forever?” a boy of about five years asked.

  “No, he’ll be back soon. He got hungry,” Corin explained. Then he had to field a dozen more questions about the hawk from the eager boys.

  Darrin saw a young man nearby and spoke quietly to him for a moment before sending him hurrying away. When Corin had finally answered all the children’s questions, they ran off whooping excitedly to play a new game inspired by the outlaws.

  * * *

  Queen Elain followed her guide across the valley. She had been helping several other women bake bread when the young man arrived and told her that the prince wanted to speak to her. Stopping only to remove her apron, the queen stepped out briskly. As they came around the rough huts constructed by the refugees, she saw two men standing by their horses.

  One she knew to be Darrin, but the other was unfamiliar. She could not see his face, yet something tugged within her. Darrin said something to him causing a burst of laughter. As she heard the sound a memory flashed unbidden before her—a small boy, blonde like his father, with merriment sparkling in his deep blue eyes.

  They turned toward her, and the stranger stopped, uncertainty creasing his features. He looked to Darrin questioningly. Darrin smiled and nodded once. Elain watched breathlessly as he came slowly toward her in a long, limping stride. They stood in silence for a few moments, staring at one another. Then she gently laid a hand on his cheek and whispered, “Corin?”

  “Mother,” came the answer.

  Elain threw her arms around her son in a fierce embrace, clutching tightly him as if she would never let go.

  “My son!” Tears began to streak her face. “I never hoped to see you here again!”

  Corin didn’t answer and just hugged her tightly, a slight tremor in his shoulders telling her she wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by emotion. Elain finally stepped back, still holding on to Corin.

  “You’ve grown and changed so much.”

  Corin grinned in his familiar cocky way. “You didn’t think I’d stay twelve forever did you, Mother?”

  As Elain laughed, she felt years younger. “You know what I mean.” Seeing the ease with which he bore his weapons, she said, “You look to have become a fine warrior. I only wish your father was here to see you.” Then she turned on Darrin. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded.

  “Would you have believed me?” he teased. “I thought I’d surprise you both.”

  “Well, I suppose you can’t stay long, but I’ll see you fed before you go,” she said.

  Corin and Darrin exchanged grins as they followed her over to a trestle table set out in the open air. Sitting obediently, they waited until she returned with meat pies and beakers of water. As they ate, Elain gently pried the story out of Corin. Darrin appeared to already know much of what he told, but Corin provided a few more details for her. As he finished, Elain wiped fresh tears from her eyes and rested a hand on his arm.

  “Don’t be ashamed of anything, Corin. You are stronger because of it.”

  “Perhaps.” Corin rubbed at the glove covering his hand.

  “I am proud of you, of both of you. Together, you help all of Aredor believe that we can be free again,” Elain said.

  “That may take years, Mother,” Darrin warned.

  “Today, a son returned to me. I believe anything is possible,” Elain asserted.

  All too soon, they had to leave. Embracing her sons one last time, the queen watched them ride from the valley, and Corin paused to let Karif alight on his outstretched arm.

  * * *

  With Kadar’s death and the victory of the Hawk Flight, the attacks on the villages ceased. As news spread of the battle and the decrease of Calorin vigilance, those men brave enough moved to join the outlaws.

  At the beginning of winter, fifteen warriors had arrived. Most had been in hiding in the villages and had been unable to travel to the forest because of the Calorins. A few came from the settlement, mostly young men who wished to fight the Calorins who had destroyed their homes. All were welcomed into the warband.

  That winter was an unusually mild one, which allowed the outlaws to continue striking at the enemy. The fighting continued, but with no end in sight.

  * * *

  A second spring arrived since the warband had formed. As warmth spread through the air, the outlaws could sense another change. Calorin patrols were not as frequent as they used to be, and Argusian mercenaries were rarely to be seen. The outlaws wondered at it but feared that Balkor was building up his army to attack again.

  By mid-spring, Corin led his patrol out on a quick scouting expedition to gain any information on Balkor’s movements. Leaving Liam in charge of the band in the forest, Corin took Ian with him into a town that housed a Calorin outpost. They left their horses hidden on the outskirts of the town and slipped inside.

  Corin grew uneasy. Whereas before, there had always been plenty of soldiers occupying the garrison, they saw only three in the square. Corin and Ian watched the barracks for over an hour and noted only a handful of Calorins go in and out.

  “What’s going on?” Corin muttered. “Even if Balkor was massing an army, he would leave this town heavily manned. It’s too close to the forest.”

  “Maybe that’s just it,” Ian said. “There haven’t been any new ships in months. Maybe these are the only men he can spare.”

  Corin regarded him with a thoughtful nod. “If you’re right, Darrin needs to know about this. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  But at that moment, luck turned against them. A Calorin soldier came running through the village. His shouts roused his comrades.

  Corin cursed. “They found the horses. Run!”

  Together, Corin and Ian sprang up and ran for their horses. The soldiers saw them and ran to cut them off. Corin saw that they would soon be surrounded and drew his scimitar.

  “Ian, run for it before we’re completely caught. Get to the horses and ride for the forest. Don’t stop for anything. I’ll follow if I can.”

  “But, Captain…!” Ian protested.

  “Now!” Corin said harshly, shoving him away.

  Corin killed the first two soldiers to come at him, but he had been pushed back into a narrow alley between two houses. Soldiers advanced, carrying spears. Karif dove from the sky, shrieking angrily. He attacked one of the soldiers, causing a spear to fall. Corin knocked the other spear away and thrust with his scimitar. But before he could pull it free, another soldier jumped at him from the side.

  Corin was thrown forcefully against the wall. Painfully, he fell to the ground, only to find that he was surrounded with a spear pressed against his chest.

  The Calorin captain eyed Karif flying with angry shrieks above and then looked to Corin.

  “Well, if it isn’t the Hawk himself,” he sneered. His men raised a shout at finding their enemy powerless at their feet.

  “Bind him. We leave at once. Lor
d Balkor will want to see him in person.”

  * * *

  Ian ran and heard the clash as the Captain crossed blades with a soldier. He pushed on, shaking off a pursuing Calorin. Rounding a building, he found the horses. For a moment, he debated going back to find the Captain, but then a triumphant cry went up in Calorin, and he knew it was too late. Throwing himself on his horse, Ian galloped back to the forest.

  The half mile back to the forest seemed to stretch on forever. Ian thundered into the camp. Practically falling off his horse, he lay on the ground, his legs refusing to support him. Liam crouched in front of him.

  “Ian, what happened? Where’s Corin?” he demanded.

  Ian sobbed for breath. “They caught him!”

  A groan ran through the men and Liam grabbed Ian’s shoulders. “Are you sure?”

  Ian nodded. Any doubt was erased when Karif swooped in, shrieking and hopping agitatedly.

  “I ran like a coward, and I didn’t go back!” Ian was close to tears. “I know what they’ll do to him. He’s as good as dead!”

  Liam shook him. “Ian, listen to me. We’ll get him out. Get back on your horse. We’re going to the caves.”

  Chapter 18

  Corin rode in the midst of the Calorins. His hands were tightly bound behind him, and blood flowed from a cut on his cheek. The Calorin captain pushed on relentlessly, and by early afternoon, they rode into Kingstown. The portcullis clanged shut as they entered the castle, and the forbidding sound seemed to crush any hope of rescue. Corin was pulled from the saddle, and Zephyr was led away rearing and fighting.

  Corin’s captors led him up the broad steps and through the great oaken doors of the castle. The great hall was dimly lit in comparison to the bright spring afternoon. As his eyes adjusted, Corin saw he was being brought up to the dais where Balkor sat in his father’s throne. The Calorin lord came down eagerly to greet them. Lord Balkor eyed Corin but did not recognize him.

  “What a pleasure! I have long wanted to meet the Hawk,” Lord Balkor said in a smooth voice. Then he struck Corin savagely across the face.