The Banished Lands- The Complete Series

by Benjamin Mester

  “What advantage is that?”

  “Whenever a large, slow army is moving, the smaller army can dictate where and when to engage in battle. We can strike them when they're most vulnerable.”

  “They'll be expecting us to try and flank them,” Estrien responded. “I'm sure their skirmishers will be on patrol. They'll see us coming.”

  “But they'll be slower than us,” Gwaren argued. “If we move swiftly, we'll find a way to get out in front of them. They won't be able to engage us without breaking their ranks. I know how to deal with skirmishers.”

  “It's a risk,” Estrien replied. “Remember, we have to avoid the forces of Kester just as much as Corcoran. This portion of the continent is just as foreign to us as it is to Corcoran. We might wind up caught between them.”

  “I don't see what choice we have.”

  Gwaren was right. It was easier to defend than advance. Corcoran's forces would be expecting an attack from behind. But if Estrien and the resistance could get out in front of them, they might find a place for an ambush. It was their only chance.

  “Let's get moving then,” Estrien said. “Mobilize our forces.”

  “I'll take point on patrol,” Straiah said. “I'll let you know if any dangers pop up.”

  Then the two departed. Estrien opened her mouth to stall Straiah, but he had already turned away and she didn't want to draw attention. He was the right choice to go on patrol. He'd been dealing with Corcoran's forces all his life in places like this. But Estrien needed to talk with him. She had barely spoken with him since the alliance city.

  After an hour passed, Gwaren returned.

  “Our forces are assembled.”

  “How many?” Estrien asked.

  “A few hundred.”

  Estrien nodded slowly. It would have to do. With no new coalition forces replenishing their ranks, they were slowly being whittled down, the assaults on the three strongholds greatly diminishing their numbers. Even so, with limited suits of armor from Blair, the fewer their numbers, the swifter and deadlier they'd become.

  “Let's get moving.”

  The group came together in the meadow where Estrien had first met Commander Rovak in the Westward Wilds. They were a scattered bunch: some from Melanor, some from Forthura, many from the resistance and a handful from Ogrindal and the Bearoc. It was amazing so many different peoples had come together to fight for a common purpose.

  “Those on horseback will stay with the main group,” Estrien declared. “The rest on foot will have to travel as quickly as you're able. It's a risk to split our forces, but we have to get ahead of them if at all possible.”

  Then they broke ranks. Those on horseback were fewer but each of them wore a suit of Blair's armor. The Bearoc warriors could keep up with those on horseback, so many joined, but some stayed behind to help defend those on foot.

  Then they set off, following the winding pathways through the Westward Wilds – days from entering the lands of Kester and even further behind the forces of Corcoran. Soon, the forest gave way to the bare rock of the mountainside. Only a few pathways were navigable between the lands of Kester and the coast, and it had taken long to find them.

  Day turned to night and the group made camp. Having no sight yet of Corcoran's army, they risked a fire. Corcoran's scouts would surely be on patrol. But the coalition forces were still well within the bounds of the Westward Wilds, and from what Straiah had told them, the forces of Corcoran had already entered the borderlands of Kester.

  Estrien sat alone by a small fire. Straiah was still out on patrol, as they had been the whole of the day, and Estrien felt the starkness of her solitude beneath the leafy trees. But as the night wore on, a figure approached and seated himself by her fire. Straiah said little at first, but gazed pensively into the fire, so much so that it flustered her.

  “How is it out there?” she asked.

  The question seemed to surprise him.

  “I'm sorry,” he replied with sigh. “I'm just worried for what's to come. Corcoran's forces are more than a day ahead of us. I don't know that we'll catch them in time. This is all my fault.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Corcoran built an entire fort inside Thob Forest and I missed it completely. There were just so many ships landing to the north. I had no idea the real threat was landing far to the south.”

  “They knew someone would be coming to see if they were continuing what Malfur had started,” Estrien said. “Thob Forest is massive. You couldn't have possibly searched it all.”

  “I know. But there were signs that something was stirring in the deep forest. I should've searched harder. I just had such little time.”

  “That's all over now,” Estrien said. “What's done is done.”

  “But wars are lost in good intentions.”

  Estrien nodded slowly.

  “You're not the only one to blame, you know,” she said.

  He looked at her as though not fully taking her meaning.

  “I'm so sorry for what happened at the alliance city,” she said. “I lost perspective.”

  “No,” Straiah replied. “I'm glad for it. If we lose our passion, what's left worth fighting for? I would rather die here and now, feeling what I feel for you, than live to see our love grow cold and dead. I've always been the reckless one. It was good to see you lose control a bit. Besides, while I was asleep, I had such wonderful dreams of you.”

  Estrien's cheeks flashed red. It was such a contradiction being with him. With others, she prided herself on her strength and independence. But with Straiah, when he spoke, she felt so vulnerable, and yet somehow empowered at the same time. He smiled at her with his knowing smile that made her blush even further.

  It felt unfair. Estrien had chosen the life of a warrior...a life of discipline and solitude, fully knowing what she'd have to give up because of it. She'd thought those things would include love and family and maybe it still would. But Straiah gave her hope for a better future.

  It was strange. He had been so certain about her from the very first. Estrien had never understood that about men – how they could be so confident about something, yet knowing so little about it. She had witnessed it before, thinking it a weakness – to choose something so fiercely before knowing anything about it. But Straiah had shown her that somehow it was a strength.

  All she knew was that some things might be so fragile that they can only be birthed under the care of unwavering faith. Some things have to be fought for before becoming something worth fighting for.

  Straiah reached out and touched her arm. But the touch startled her and she pulled away. Straiah opened his mouth but only sighed. Words were only a hindrance. They each knew what the other was thinking.

  “Do we have a plan yet?” Estrien asked.

  “Not yet,” Straiah replied. “Once we come around Corcoran's forces, we'll have to avoid Kester but work with them as best we can. It'll be tricky but we'll manage. I just wish we could get word to Sheabor about what's happening.”

  Hearing Sheabor's name reminded her of something she'd forgotten to ask him.

  “You never told me that you introduced Sheabor to his wife.”

  Straiah nodded.

  “We go back a long way,” he replied. “We grew up together. My brother, Seriah, was convinced we'd get married. But we never had those feelings for each other. We were more like brother and sister. I was overjoyed when she met Sheabor. He'd been all duty and responsibility until that point. But she changed his tune.”

  Estrien smiled.

  “I didn't know you had a brother.”

  “He's still on the Banished Lands, protecting our families and working with what's left of the resistance there.”

  “I hope someday to meet him.”

  “You will,” he said.

  Evening turned to night as the small fire burned down to ember. At length, Straiah arose.

  “Where are you off to?”

  “I should go back on patrol a bit. You get your res
t. Long day tomorrow.”

  “What about you?”

  “I won't be able to sleep until securing our perimeter. I'll not be long.”

  Then he departed. Estrien added a few more logs to the glowing embers and laid down beside the fire, falling fast asleep. When she awoke, just at the glow of dawn, there was still a bed of glowing embers warming her, perhaps even larger than what had been the night before.

  She smiled warmly, knowing Straiah must have added fuel during the night, and had somehow done so without waking her. He was such a servant, almost as though it came second nature to consider the needs of others above his own. Estrien smiled with a sigh, recalling how Baron had gushed to her about him when they had all first gotten to Eulsiphion. Baron had said that Straiah was the most selfless man he'd ever met. And though Baron often used hyperbole in his statements, this time it was the truth.

  Arising to join the others, she could feel Straiah's absence – he undoubtedly already ahead on patrol. It took not long to depart, few words spoken as the group mounted up and headed north. The landscape slowly began to change, opening up into sweeping, grassy hillsides. They were clearing the Westward Wilds.

  As they traveled, Estrien noticed that the ground had already been broken, the brown earth freshly ground beneath boot and wheel. Corcoran's forces weren't far ahead.

  They traveled the whole of the day without stopping, cresting a large hill at dusk that overlooked a broad valley. In the failing light, Estrien thought she caught sight of a large mass of soldiers. But day soon turned to night.

  At length, Straiah finally returned on foot, worn from travel. Estrien came to him, placing her hand on his chest and gazing at him with worry.

  “I'm alright,” he said. “I just need food and water.”

  “Where's your horse?” she asked.

  “I had to abandon him. The pathways were too narrow. I'd have been heard.”

  “You traveled the whole day on foot?”

  “Just the afternoon,” he replied.

  “Come have a seat and rest.”

  But as they departed, Gwaren and Drogan approached.

  “What have you discovered?”

  Estrien shot a stern glance in their direction, which they seemed to take note of. For Gwaren opened his mouth to speak again but Straiah cut him off.

  “Corcoran's forces are being funneled through the valley,” Straiah said. “We can try the highland route around them, but there's no guarantee it's navigable. If we come to a dead end, we'll be forced to double back. But the valley is broad. It's possible we could sneak past them in the night. They're keeping near the center. If we're careful we could slide alongside and pass them before they knew we were there.”

  “But they'll surely hear the horses,” Estrien argued. “A single whinny in the night will raise the alarm.”

  “We'll go on foot then.”

  “But you've already traveled all day on foot.”

  “I'll manage. This might be our last opportunity to get out in front of them. I don't know what lies on the other side of this valley but we're already well within the borderlands of Kester. Corcoran's forces will need to conquer a fortress soon to replenish their provisions. My guess is that something of significant size lies on the other side of this valley. I don't think we'll have to go far once we get clear.”

  “That's a big risk,” Gwaren said. “Abandoning the horses without knowing what's on the other side could be suicide.”

  “I can try sliding past them and scouting ahead before we commit.”

  “No,” Estrien replied. “It's too dangerous.”

  Estrien could feel the eyes on her. She knew Straiah would gladly risk his life for the rest of them – would go without food or sleep to see the mission accomplished. But she wouldn't let him do it. It was her turn now to look after him.

  “We'll wait till they make camp for the night, then leave as one. It's our only choice.”

  Departures and Arrivals

  Sheabor stood atop the high wall of Eulsiphion, watching the army march out from the city directly below him, six battalions, five hundred soldiers each, bound for the lands of the Horctura. The general of King Froamb's armies had even called in the bulk of the reserves, emptying Dagron to march against their long time foe.

  In other circumstances, the general's campaign made perfect sense. The Horctura had been hit from nearly every angle, losing the battle at Ogrindal and the infighting that ensued among the tribes to seize power. And then came the raids from Corcoran's elites, which put the whole region on lockdown.

  The armies of Forthura would march against Trakhendor, the Horctura's main fortress in the south and the gateway to the lands of the north. If successful, they could either occupy it or else raze it to the ground, eliminating the barbarians' ability to make war against them, perhaps permanently.

  The one silver lining was that if Trakhendor was taken, Forthura would finally have a chance to reestablish a relationship with Kester, cut off a century ago with the rise of the Horctura. Perhaps this would turn out for the best after all. But the way Cora squeezed his hand tightly told him otherwise.

  “How can they leave like this after what we discovered in the catacombs beneath the city?”

  Sheabor turned to his wife and raised her hand to his face, kissing it.

  “They're just doing what they think is best.”

  “They're leaving their city...their home defenseless!”

  “I know.”

  Just then, footsteps from behind turned their gaze. It was King Froamb, come to watch with them as the army marched through the plains.

  “I've only authorized an assault against Trakhendor,” he said. “Nothing more. It's a mere two hundred leagues away. Should Corcoran attack, the army can return in time.”

  Sheabor nodded slowly.

  “We'll do our best to give you as much warning as we can.”

  But he didn't like it. They watched in silence as the six battalions shrank toward the hilly horizon. And as the army shrank, his trepidation grew. With luck, Estrien had found a way to stall Corcoran's advancement.

  “Something confuses me,” King Froamb said at length. “From what I have gathered from our conversations, Corcoran is a spirit who can take physical form by manipulating the earth around him and rising up as some sort of rock monster.”

  Sheabor nodded.

  “Then why can he not come and kill any one of us in our bed chambers while we sleep? What's to stop him?”

  “That's exactly what our forefathers encountered in the early days on the Banished Lands. But after our peoples were driven into hiding, we learned that certain areas far from the heartland of the continent seemed beyond his reach. We don't understand it entirely but we believe Corcoran used a piece of the Soul Stone to tie himself to the core of the Banished Lands long ago.

  How far he is able to stray from it is anyone's guess. The Night Wanderers near Ogrindal were tied to Thay Iphilus Forest just as Corcoran is tied to the Banished Lands. His range of movement is broader than theirs was, though we don't know exactly how much more. But that's why he had to send Malfur to the Eastern Realm first, because Corcoran himself hadn't yet the means to travel here.”

  “But he was able to travel to our lands in the person of Durian,” Froamb said.

  “Yes, though we're not sure exactly how he does it. It's happened only a handful of times throughout the centuries, and each time he nearly destroyed us from within.”

  “I can only imagine,” Froamb said. “I would think he'd always remain in human form. He could be anyone...move anywhere in and out of our number.”

  “Yes, but it's too risky for him. What we've gathered from those who've defected to our cause, the only time he's vulnerable is during the ritual when he tethers himself to another person. His acolytes who perform the ritual have complete power over him while the ritual is underway.

  As they're transferring his spirit, he's helpless to them. They could trap him or release his bond to the Banished
Lands if they wished, sending his spirit to join the dead and ridding us of his tyranny forever. But Corcoran trusts no one.”

  King Froamb seemed taken aback. He opened his mouth for reply, but Cora cut him off.

  “Believe me, we've tried,” she said. “If there was a way to turn one of his acolytes to our side or somehow interrupt the ritual, we'd have done it centuries ago and the war would be long over.”

  “I don't doubt it,” King Froamb replied. “But it seems not something to quickly abandon.”

  “We've been focused on survival,” Cora replied. “With both Corcoran and Malfur against us, it's all we've been able to do just to survive. The sheer size of the Banished Lands is the only thing that's kept us safe.”

  “But now you're here,” King Froamb replied. “And here we have several advantages.”

  “Such as?” Cora asked.

  “For one, we have the Soul Stone, sitting idly in Thay Iphilus Forest. Can we not use it somehow to try and trap him?”

  Sheabor hadn't considered that. The Soul Stone was still such a mystical concept. No one really knew how it worked or how Corcoran had utilized it to keep his spirit tied to where he wanted. He glanced to Cora for her thoughts on the matter.

  “It's worth looking into,” she said. “Especially if we can't get Baron back.”

  “Has there been any word from your scouts on his whereabouts?” Sheabor asked.

  King Froamb shook his head. It had only been a few days. Just then, someone approached from behind. Turning, they were surprised to find Ariadra, adorned in regal dress, walking up to them.

  “My queen,” Sheabor said with a bow. “You shouldn't be out without an escort. Won't you join us?”

  Ariadra gave him a cordial bow. Sheabor noticed that others were watching from below, having followed Ariadra at a distance, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled queen of old and perhaps offer greetings.

  “Your army marches north, good king,” Ariadra said. “And yet, I was told the war will come from the south.”

  “We each have our own battles to fight, my lady.”

  “It's a small matter,” Ariadra replied. “Corcoran won't send his army against the city as long as I remain here. He won't risk harming me.”