Farindian Summer (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 4)

by Loren K. Jones

  The third man said, “Look at that! Ifn it weren’t fer the gray hair, I’d say he was just a boy.”

  The man who had spoken first chuckled. “Good. Old Master Jallan likes boys.”

  “You can’t do this to—“ Kimmel fell silent when one of the men kicked him in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.

  The men picked him up, along with his things, and headed toward Trade Town. They arrived after dark and went to the Grand Master’s home. A servant brought his master to the door, and he looked at the man laying limp on his porch.

  “Why have you brought that to me?” he asked.

  “Master Jallan, he said he was an Evandian officer. When we saw what a pretty boy he was, we thought all the better.”

  Senior Master Trader Jallan bent over and grabbed the man by the hair. “So you brought me a dead body?” he asked.

  “Dead?” Vardin asked as he knelt and checked to see if the pretty-boy was breathing. “Damn you, Charlet, ya kicked him too hard!”

  “Get that off my property, you fools. Whatever value he had died with him.” Master Jallan turned and walked away, and the servant closed the door.

  “What now?” Vardin asked.

  “We still has his stuff. That’ll be worth something. We’ll toss that,” he waved to the body, “in the midden heap with the rest of the trash.”

  Five spans later the body of Major Kimmel Baltistan Jumar Zel’Devery was unceremoniously tossed into the ravine that served Trade Town as a trash dump. A cart of refuse from the town was dumped over him less than a span later.

  *

  At Stavin’s suggestion, Gavlin headed west along the river. It wasn’t hard to tell where the Andarian Army had passed. Burned houses and towns marked their path quite well.

  “What were they thinking?” Stavin wondered out loud.

  “They were conquering their new territory, like some of my less experienced officers thought we were going to do,” Gavlin answered.

  “Idiots,” Dahvin muttered. “The mistakes of the past returned to mess up the future.”

  “Exactly,” Gavlin agreed.

  The warriors were sent ahead of the main army in Farindian Royal Guard colors, and that helped a little. The news that they had defeated the Andarian Army helped more. People crept out of their hiding places as the fabled Old Guard proclaimed them safe. The idea that they were now part of Evandia didn’t sit well with some, but after their experiences, most of them decided that it was better than being taken by Andaria.

  The procession took twenty-nine days to traverse the northern border. It was slow going, but there was little resistance. The Andarians had slaughtered most of the men who might have fought back.

  Finally, at the town of Haltar on the Andarian border, Stavin made a decision. “Gav,” he said as they ate that night, “in the morning, release all of the prisoners except the officers. Let them go over into Andaria.”

  “That isn’t a good idea,” Dahvin replied. “They are our enemy.”

  “No.” Stavin said as he shook his head. “Andaria isn’t our enemy. At least, I don’t want them to be our enemy. Tomorrow, I want to ride over to the Andarian border post and speak to their commander.” Gavlin and Dahvin both immediately started to object, but Stavin raise his hand. “Karvik and Barvil will be at my side. The sword will be within reach if I need it. But we don’t need the extra burden of guarding the prisoners until something can be negotiated. Just let the common soldiers go. Without their weapons or baggage. Let the garrison in Haltar feed them.”

  “The Royal Guards will be at your back, Stavin,” Dahvin said in a firm tone, and Stavin nodded.

  “I have no problem with that.”

  The sun had hardly risen when Stavin, his armor gleaming in the early light, and his guards rode forward to the border station. “I would like to speak to the commander of your garrison,” he told the sergeant in charge.

  “Oh, would you? And who might you be?”

  “I am Prince Stavin of Evandia.” That got his attention. “Send for your commander.”

  The sergeant was staring at Stavin with wide eyes, and waving for someone behind him to do something. A rider was soon spurring his horse up the hill to the old fort, and it wasn’t long before a dozen officers in dress uniforms arrived.

  “I am Colonel Zel’Bartal,” the leader said as he approached Stavin. “What can I do for you, Prince Stavin?”

  “You can take a bunch of your soldiers off my hands,” Stavin replied. “It seems that your General Zel’Jellan can’t read a map and raided the Evandian side of the border all the way to Kahrant’s Pass. We had to kill most of them, and I’m tired of feeding the rest.”

  “You did what!?” the colonel shouted angrily.

  “We defeated General Zel’Jellan’s force on our side of the river,” Stavin repeated. “Any more border incursions of this type will be met harshly.”

  “That’s an act of war!”

  “Yes, it is,” Stavin replied, “but I believe I can convince King Kalin not to attack Andaria in retaliation for this—incident.”

  The colonel blinked a few times, then said, “You committed an act of war against us!”

  “No, Colonel. General Zel’Jellan attacked Evandia.” Stavin looked the man in the eye and continued softly, “I have six thousand men at my back, Colonel. If you want a war between Evandia and Andaria, I’ll give it to you right here, right now. But beware. The Sword of Zel’Hallan is right behind me, and I won’t hesitate to use its power against you.”

  The colonel swallowed convulsively and backed his horse up a step. His eyes were focused on the sword at Karvik’s side. He finally looked back at Stavin and said, “As you wish, Prince Stavin. Send General Zel’Jellan and his men over.”

  Stavin shook his head. “The general stays with us, along with his officers. He’ll face charges later, once King Kalin and King Jallat decide what to do about him.” He raised his hand and Gavlin shouted the order for the prisoners to start marching.

  The common soldiers marched past Stavin into their homeland, and Stavin stared the colonel in the eye until the last of them were past. “See to your men, Colonel. Evandia desires peace, but we’ll enforce it with steel if we have to.” Then he turned his horse back toward their camp and led the way at a walk.

  “You took a big risk doing that, Stavin,” Barvil said as they rode away.

  Stavin nodded. “I know. But it should be worth it. Andaria is a bully, and if there’s one thing I know how to deal with, it’s bullies. You have to show them that you’re not afraid of them.”

  “That didn’t always work out that well for you, Stave,” Karvik said in a sour tone. “You usually got your butt kicked.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t have six thousand butt kickers on my side then. Or the threat of that sword. Let’s face it, Kar, that threat is the more persuasive of the two arguments. King Jallat doesn’t want me marching into his palace again.”

  “And we don’t either. If you did, you’d be truly lost,” Karvik pointed out.

  “I know that,” Stavin murmured, “and you know that, but King Jallat doesn’t know that.”

  Gavlin gave orders to move out almost immediately. “I want to put some dragons between us and that garrison. We probably just tripled their strength.”

  “With nothing more than a few eating knives to fight with,” Karvik reminded him.

  “And a few hundred swords and spears from their armory. A typical Evandian fortress has three times as many weapons as men.” Gavlin shook his head slowly. “Prince Stavin is correct that they are probably not going to want to go to war over this. Not with us still in possession of General Zel’Jellan. But I don’t believe in probabilities. I believe in certainties, and they are certainly going to ask for guidance before they do anything.”

  “And that gives us time to move out of their area,” Dahvin said.

  The Pacification Force marched on, traveling south along the Andarian border. There were few towns in this part of
old Farindia. There was little arable land to support them. They passed the ruins of an old city in one fertile valley they traversed, and saw a few scattered farmsteads, but no people. It seemed that the people were fleeing in front of the army.

  Stavin shook his head sadly. This part of Farindia used to be well populated. Now just a few people are left, and we’re scaring them away. Gods Above, I hope this works. I hope this can become a thriving part of Evandia.

  Chapter 42

  TEN DAYS AFTER LEAVING HALTAR, THE Pacification Force entered the Zel’Dorvan valley. This was one of the most fertile of the western valleys. It had once been a shallow lake, and the dry lake bed provided deep, rich topsoil for farming. It was also one of the few places in southern Farindia that had maintained a large population. More than twenty thousand souls called the valley home, and the city of Zel’Dorvan was its center.

  A force of a few thousand men was arrayed across the road about thirty dragon-lengths north of the city of Zel’Dorvan. Gavlin stopped his troops and let Barvil and the Royal Guards ride forward.

  When he reached a comfortable distance from the ragged army of farmers and shop keepers, Barvil stopped and shouted, “Send out a representative to negotiate.”

  A group of ten men rode forward soon afterward and stopped about five paces away from Barvil. “Who are you?” the leader asked as he looked at the Farindian Royal Guards tabards the warriors wore. He was an older man, and seemed confused. And curious.

  Barvil bowed slightly before saying, “I am Warmaster Barvil Kel’Carin of the Royal Guard, from Kavinston in the Kel’Kavin Valley.”

  The men looked even more nervous once they heard Barvil’s name. And rank. “Why have you brought an army to our valley, Warmaster?” the leader asked as some of the men with him eased back.

  “Evandia has entered into a treaty with Andaria to annex Farindia. This portion of the old kingdom is now part of Evandia. Our force is here to bring law back to our home.”

  “By slaughtering everyone in your path!” a man shouted from the back of the group.

  Barvil shook his head. “No, that was an Andarian general with delusions of conquest. We defeated his army and captured them, then sent the common soldiers home. The general will face charges in Twin Bridges. Prince Stavin Dragon Blessed is leading this force to welcome our countrymen into Evandia.”

  “Your countrymen?” a different voice shouted.

  “Our countrymen,” Barvil repeated. “Prince Stavin is one of the old Guard from Kel’Kavin. He was adopted by King Kalin over a year ago when he defeated the Andarian Army in Evandia. Now he is here with us to bring these lands into the kingdom.”

  “What if we don’t want to be annexed?”

  Barvil raised both hands to shoulder level in an armored shrug. “There really isn’t that much you can do about it.”

  “We can fight you!”

  Barvil shook his head. “No, you really can’t. You can die, certainly, but there are over six thousand Evandian Army troops behind me, and fifty warriors of the old Royal Guard right in front of you.”

  “What right does Evandia have to annex us at all?” the leader asked in an aggressive tone.

  “They annexed us because we, the Royal Guards, asked them to,” Barvil replied.

  The men fell silent.

  “The last of the old royal bloodline lives on in Kel’Kavin, but we couldn’t reestablish the Kingdom of Farindia ourselves. We needed King Kalin’s help to do it. And his gold,” Barvil admitted with a slight smile. “Kingdoms are expensive.”

  The leader rode forward alone until he was just a pace from Barvil. “We’ve been an independent city for nearly two hundred years. This is our land. What makes you think you can take it away without a fight?”

  Barvil shook his head. “We don’t want to take away your land. We are here to affirm your rights, not trample them. Evandian officials will be entering these lands soon to establish the rights of the people. They will be issuing deeds and titles to the people for what they have, so no one can take it away from them. The rule of law, not the whims of warlords and Traders, will once again control Farindia.”

  “But it won’t be Farindia,” the man whispered as he looked at his horse’s ears.

  “No, but it really hasn’t been Farindia since the revolt,” Barvil replied softly. “We lost our kingdom then. Now we’re just trying to build a new kingdom with Evandia’s help.”

  The man took a deep breath and nodded. “I am Mayor Esten Kel’Horval of Zel’Dorvan.”

  Barvil looked at the man curiously. “Kel’Horval?” he asked as he titled his head to the side.

  “Yes. One of my ancestors was a royal guard who retired here. He led the men of Zel’Dorvan in the defense of our city during the revolt, and we’ve been what passes for the nobility in this town since the fall.”

  “You had other relatives in Kel’Kavin,” Barvil said with a slight smile. “One of them is Warmaster Charvil Kel’Horval, my cousin—and Prince Stavin’s father-in-law.”

  “What?”

  Barvil smiled. “Stavin Kel’Aniston married Sharindis Kel’Horval five years ago, long before King Kalin adopted him. Once the annexation is accomplished, you might want to visit Kel’Kavin and see who you’re related to. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

  “I had no idea that any of the family survived after the revolt,” he said in a stunned tone. “I thought we were the last of our line.”

  “Not by a wide margin,” Barvil replied with a grin. “In fact, a cousin of yours is with this force.” Barvil turned and shouted, “Kahndar, front and center!”

  Kahndar rode around the guards to join his leader and came to attention in the saddle. “Yes, Warmaster?”

  “Kahndar Kel’Horval, let me introduce Mayor Esten Kel’Horval.”

  Kahn looked the mayor in the eye and smiled. “I am pleased to meet you, Mayor.”

  “And I you, Warleader,” the mayor replied.

  Barvil said, “Kahn, go get your brother-in-law, but don’t tell him what’s going on. I want to see the look on his face when he meets the mayor.” Kahndar laughed and bowed, then rode away while Barvil remained where he was. When Stavin and the officers joined them, Barvil introduced the mayor. Stavin’s reaction was as amusing as it was predictable.

  “You’re related to my wife!” he all but shouted as a wide smile crossed his face.

  “It would appear so, Prince Stavin,” the mayor replied with a deep bow.

  Stavin grinned at Barvil and said, “I can’t wait to see Charvil’s face when he hears this.”

  “It should be amusing,” Barvil agreed. “Mayor Kel’Horval, if you would care to lead the way, perhaps we can discuss this in a more comfortable setting.”

  “Of course, Warmaster. Of course.” The mayor signaled the men behind him, and shouted orders soon dispersed the people back to their interrupted lives. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll take you to the city hall and we can meet with the rest of the city council. I’m afraid I’m the only member of a Warrior Clan on the council. We actually have few people from Warrior or Revered clans. No Chosen at all.”

  “We’ll see to that later,” Stavin said, and the mayor fixed him with an intense stare.

  “You intend to send Chosen families up here to take over, Prince Stavin?” he asked.

  Stavin shook his head. “No, we intend to elevate worthy clans to Chosen status to continue as they have. You and probably most of your council will be among them.”

  The mayor was silent for a few moments, then bowed his head. “That is an honor we never would have taken for ourselves, Prince Stavin.”

  Now it was Stavin’s turn to bow in his saddle. “It is an honor you have earned, Mayor Kel’Horval.”

  “Prince Stavin,” the mayor said as he looked into Stavin’s eyes once again, “please have your army camp outside the city. There is no way we could accommodate them. And if they can, try not to ruin any crops. Times are tough enough as they are.”

  S
tavin nodded, then looked at Dahvin. “Captain Zel’Fordal, please instruct the colonel to set camp where they can with as little damage as possible.” He looked around and frowned. “The road margin is probably the only place that isn’t cultivated.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Dahvin replied, then he bowed and turned his horse back toward the main force.

  Stavin turned back to the mayor and nodded. “If you’d care to lead on?” he said, indicating the road back toward town. The mayor turned his horse and led the Royal Guards forward. All but Dahvin had remained with Stavin.

  Stavin was grinning widely as he followed the mayor. Shari is going to be so excited by this! So are Charvil and Nahrana.

  Chapter 43

  THE PEOPLE OF ZEL’DORVAN MET THEM cautiously. Their history for the past two hundred years had been shaped by armies of bandits and mercenaries, each worse than the last, and demanding more. Now an army ten times the size of any they had ever seen was camped on their doorstep.

  The mayor led them through town to the ancient city center. Many of these buildings were more than eight hundred years old—and looked it. The building that had been the town hall since Zel’Dorvan’s founding in Imperial times was still an impressive edifice. Three stories tall, it was more than a dragon wide, and the stonework of the facade was splendidly done. They all dismounted, but Barvil sent twenty men ahead of Stavin and the mayor. At Stavin’s questioning glance, Barvil explained, “I don’t want to have to make any excuses to your father. Or your wife.”

  Stavin’s mouth quirked up. “I suspect it’s Shari you’re more worried about. The king would only kill you.” Barvil didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. They all knew the truth.

  The guardsmen surrounded Stavin, and the people of Zel’Dorvan melted away before them like frost before the sun. Not even the men who served as city guards dared face the ancient, nearly legendary Royal Guards of Kel’Kavin.

  The mayor guided them to a set of doors with a brass plaque that proudly proclaimed it to be the City Council Chamber. The room beyond the doors was an almost exact duplicate of the King’s Council Chamber in Twin Bridges, and Stavin didn’t bother to suppress his grin. The room was filled with the same long, oval table that he was used to, and the chairs were all the same, with one exception. The chair in the center of the far side was larger and more ornate than the others. Stavin walked to the chair in the center of the near side and remained standing as the mayor and his council sorted themselves out. He was mildly amused when three additional chairs had to be brought in to accommodate everyone. Apparently not every councilman attended every meeting.