by Lana Axe
Did Efren know of her predicament? She hoped he did not. He already had so much on his mind, and the safety of the kingdom rested on his shoulders. Ryshel did not wish to add yet another burden to her troubled husband.
Though she listened closely to the conversations between the guards, she heard no word of the war with Ra’jhou. Any news would be welcome. Not knowing if the castle still stood was driving her mad. While she sat idle in the darkness, her children could be in serious danger.
Why did I come here? she wondered. Would it not have been better to remain in Ra’jhou and await the outcome of the war? Even if we had lost, at least I would have died alongside my loved ones, not alone in a foreign land.
Ryshel cursed her own stubbornness. Rayne was in no danger here, that much was certain. He was Tyrol’s only heir, and he would naturally be protected. Shaking the thoughts away, she determined it was best to stick by her decision rather than give in to despair. Aubriana deserved to have her child at her side. Ryshel had erred in the manner of escaping, and her capture was her own fault. If she had planned a better escape, she would be back in Ra’jhou by now, with the young prince at her side.
Another thought occurred to her that filled her with dread. Had Lady Bartin’s part in this scheme been discovered? Was she under arrest as well? If so, there was no one left to help her. None of Aubriana’s friends would want to be involved after this. They would face the king’s wrath, just as Ryshel herself would. What would his punishment be?
Footsteps sounded through the darkness, making their way closer and closer to her cell. Ryshel rose to her feet and peered into the distance. She stepped back, startled as a guard appeared. She had not realized he was so close by.
“Some water, miss,” he said, thrusting a wooden cup between the bars.
Aubriana could see the youthfulness of his face. Taking the cup, she said, “Thank you for your kindness.”
He nodded and said, “It’s not right to keep a lady down here.”
With a half-smile, she replied, “I quite agree with you.”
The guard’s expression seemed puzzled. “You don’t talk like an ordinary prisoner. If you don’t mind my asking, what was your crime?”
“Attempting to kidnap the prince, or so they say,” she replied, handing the cup back to him.
“You’re the one who caused all that commotion the other night?” His mouth hung open as he tried to comprehend her crime. “I never heard it was a woman they caught.”
“Indeed it was,” she responded. “I’ve been here ever since.”
“Still, it isn’t right to keep a woman here,” he stated. “This place isn’t fit for any woman, even a criminal.” He turned and headed back into the darkness.
Aubriana listened to his footsteps as he disappeared from sight. She was grateful for the company, if only for a brief moment. Resigning herself to the silence once more, she retreated back to the corner of her cell and leaned her back against the wall.
Hours or possibly days passed before she heard footsteps approaching her cell once more. The young guard had returned to bring her something to eat. He said nothing, but a concerned frown graced his features as the dim light of his torch fell upon Ryshel’s face. Through the bars, he handed her a small bundle before heading back into the darkness.
Untying the cloth, Ryshel smiled at what she saw inside: a small wedge of cheese, a slice of warm bread, and a handful of raisins. This food was far too good for a prisoner. The guard had given her his own meal.
“Thank you,” she said to the darkness, hoping the young man would hear. His compassion brought tears to her eyes. Even here in the most horrible place she could imagine, there was kindness and humanity. Perhaps there was hope for her after all.
When next the guard returned, she was determined to tell him who she was. If she could convince him of her true identity, she might have a chance at an audience with King Tyrol. She doubted he would grant her freedom, but he might at least give her better accommodations. Even a swift execution would be better than lingering in this place. Ryshel finished her meal, hoping the guard would return soon.
Chapter 37
“Scouts are reporting the Na’zorans are closing in, Your Majesty. They will be here within a few days.” Duke Arden stood firm as he delivered the grim news. Ra’jhou’s final stand was about to commence.
“How are the preparations going?” Efren asked. “Do we have enough food for everyone?”
“We have collected all the supplies that could be found and stored them within the castle. With rationing, we should last at least a month.”
“What of our army?” the king asked.
“General Willem has briefed the soldiers we have remaining, and they are prepared to do battle.”
“We should take the time to arm the citizens as well,” Efren said. “If the walls are breached, they might have to defend themselves. I would have them prepared for it.”
“Very well, Your Majesty.”
“Groot can assist you,” Efren added. “He and his crew should have enough items to supply those who want them.”
With a bow, Arden exited the throne room to seek out the dwarf craftsman. The activity in the courtyard was minimal, and there were no signs that the citizens were panicking. There had been enough time to prepare, and it seemed there was no last-minute rush. Arden was glad to see that the people seemed at ease. Beneath their brave exteriors, he was sure they were as frightened as he was. A decisive battle was about to begin, and Ra’jhou’s survival was at stake. He could not help admiring the resolve of the people.
Groot was perched upon the castle wall next to the second trebuchet he had constructed. Noticing Arden’s arrival, Groot said, “I keep checking the horizon for soldiers. I haven’t seen any yet.”
“They’ll be here soon enough,” Arden replied. “King Efren wants the citizens armed. Can you see to it?”
“Aye,” the dwarf replied. His workers had retrieved all unused armor pieces and weapons that had been stored in the castle over the past few generations. Only a small number of pieces had been damaged beyond repair. Groot’s men had repaired the rest as best they could. They wouldn’t last long in a fight, but they were far better than nothing.
Arden headed off to announce the need for more volunteers. He visited each camp, instructing them to meet with the dwarves if they would like to obtain a weapon. Many citizens were already barricaded inside the castle, and he did not offer to arm them. These were the citizens who would need to flee if the battle went ill. They were either too old or too young, and the rest were women who were needed to look after the children and provide medical attention should any of them become injured. The only information Arden could give them was to make them aware of the correct route to take should they need to flee into the mountains. It would be a last resort, but it might be necessary if the castle fell. There was no way of knowing whether the Na’zorans would spare their lives.
Groot gathered his men and helped them place the armor and weapons into carts. By the time they had finished, long lines of citizens had formed. Nearly every man, including boys as young as ten years of age, along with a large portion of women, waited for the dwarves to deliver the weapons.
Handing a dagger to a woman clutching a baby, Groot said, “Shouldn’t you be down in the cellars? It would be safer for your baby.”
The woman glared at him, making him wish he’d kept his opinion to himself. “If I have to kill to defend my child, I will do it gladly,” she stated. Taking the dagger, she marched away in a huff.
Groot shook his head. Perhaps dwarf women would do the same if faced with a hopeless situation. In the future, he would hold his tongue before the women of Ra’jhou. They were clearly made of stronger stuff than he had anticipated.
A cheer broke out among the people, causing Groot to look up from his work. To his surprise, he saw King Efren making his way through the crowds. His manservant was not far behind, directing the king toward the dwarf.
“You
r Majesty,” Groot said as the king approached. “My kinsmen and I have been busy arming your people this morning. They aren’t the best trained soldiers, but they’ll do. They certainly have spirit.”
“You completed the second trebuchet, I’m told,” Efren said.
“I have,” Groot replied. “I’ll take you to it if you like.”
The king nodded and followed Groot to the top of the castle wall where the second trebuchet stood. Efren clutched at the wood to test its strength.
“It seems sturdy enough,” he commented.
“My finest work,” Groot responded, his eyes gleaming.
“I am grateful for the assistance you and your people have provided me,” Efren said. “Have you had any word from Pedr or the dwarves who left with him?” With no news of the dwarf, Efren had begun to wonder whether his trust had been misplaced. After all, he had known the dwarf only a few minutes before sending him off on a mission of grave importance. His number of mistakes seemed to be mounting, and his mind was occupied by regrets.
“None at all, Majesty,” he admitted. Though he wasn’t fully aware of Pedr’s mission, he knew it was dangerous to send him to speak with King Oge. Pedr had been banished, and it was unlikely the king would be happy to receive him.
“I have placed a great deal of trust in Pedr,” Efren stated. “You know him better than I do. Is there any chance he might return with an army of his own? He knows our situation is dire, and we would not be difficult to defeat. He is aware of all our defenses. I worry I’ve placed my trust in him too easily.”
Groot replied, “Your Majesty, Pedr is the most loyal man I’ve ever known. If he made you a promise, he’ll do whatever he can to keep it. You have my word on that.” There was no doubt in his mind that Pedr would remain loyal to King Efren.
Efren nodded. “Pedr may be honorable, but what of King Oge? He might see an opportunity that he cannot pass up. This kingdom is vulnerable from too many sides.”
Groot did not know what to say. King Oge had come to the throne through questionable means, and it would not be a far reach for him to invade a troubled kingdom, especially if there were riches to be found. Not wanting to burden the king further, Groot kept this information to himself.
Chapter 38
Three days later, the Na’zorans descended on the castle. King Tyrol rode at the front, leading his armies with pride. In total, his craftsmen had managed to build six working catapults and a ram. There were no towers to help scale the walls of the castle fortress. The scarcity of resources and the king’s impatience had forced them to travel before a single tower could be completed.
Tyrol observed as four catapults were moved into position by horses, led by the skilled hands of his engineers. The other two catapults, however, were moved by soldiers. There had not been enough horses to supply his cavalry and pull all of the siege equipment. The soldiers who pushed the catapult were quickly becoming exhausted. A few had been injured en route and had to be sent away.
“How close would you like us to get today?” Lieutenant Jak asked. “I recommend caution. We can’t be sure what weapons the Ra’jhouans might have.”
Tyrol laughed and said, “If they had defensive weapons, they would have used them to halt our advance.” After a moment of thought, he added, “But I don’t want to be too close to them for now. Let them quake with fear at our approach. Perhaps the blind man will be so frightened he will offer me his throne without a fight.”
“He could have done that already, Your Majesty,” Lieutenant Jak pointed out.
Tyrol gave him a scathing look. “He’s obviously a proud man,” he said. “We will wait a while before firing the catapults. I don’t want my new castle too damaged. Repairs will be costly. Be sure the mages hold their fire for now as well.”
“Of course, Majesty,” Jak replied. “Siege warfare makes men idle. What task shall I put the men to while we wait?”
“Have them build shield walls between us and the castle. I’m sure they’ve rounded up a few archers to hide behind those walls. I wouldn’t want anyone to be hit.”
* * * * *
From his throne room, Efren could hear the sounds of the approaching army. Their feet marched in time, their steps echoing in his ears. Horses whinnied in the distance, and hammers rang out as the invaders prepared their camps. With only a month of food stored away to feed the entire castle, the Na’zorans wouldn’t have to wait long for their victory.
“Duke Arden,” Efren began, “escort me to the walls. I would greet this army that has come to conquer us.”
Without a word, Arden reached for the king’s arm. Was the king ready to surrender? Doing so could potentially save many lives, but Tyrol could not be trusted. He may well annihilate the citizens of Ra’jhou, intending to fill the kingdom with his own people. Perhaps he would divide it into large portions for his noble supporters. The massive funds required to train and outfit his mages must have come from somewhere, and Arden suspected Tyrol would owe favors to many wealthy people.
The sun shone brightly in the sky as the pair ascended the castle walls. Groot was positioned at his trebuchet, watching the crowd gather below. He bowed before the king as he came into view and followed behind him in case there were orders he needed to hear.
Efren stood upon the wall facing the invading army. Though he could not see them, he could feel their presence and sense their malice. The sound of their axes chopping at trees that had stood a hundred years filled his ears. Smoke from their fires filled his nostrils. The landscape of Ra’jhou might never be the same again.
“Are they building a wall?” Efren asked.
“They are, Your Majesty,” Arden replied. “They likely wish to protect themselves from our arrows.”
“Their walls won’t hold up to Groot’s trebuchets. Are they in range?”
“Not yet,” Groot responded. “The wall they’re building will be too close for the trebuchet to hit, and their troops are too far back.” Pausing, he added, “For now.”
Efren nodded. “When they’ve constructed the wall, burn it.”
Groot grinned and looked at Duke Arden, who was obviously puzzled. “King Efren had me deliver an oily concoction and cotton strips to our archers. They can shoot fire arrows.”
Duke Arden raised his eyebrows approvingly.
“Their supplies won’t last long, I’m afraid, but destroying their wall will at least dishearten our enemy,” Efren stated.
Groot said, “The king’s being conservative in his estimate. That chemical of his burns hotter than anything I’ve ever seen. It won’t use up the arrows too quickly.”
Once again Arden was confused. Apparently, he had not been privy to all the king’s preparations for war. “What chemical would that be?” he asked.
“It’s something I’ve been dabbling with for a while,” Efren explained. “It won’t get us far, but it will help for a while.” Turning away from the army, he said, “I think it’s time I was outfitted for battle. I intend to be on this wall when the invaders move into range.”
Arden sighed quietly. It would seem Efren still intended to man the trebuchet himself. Perhaps he hoped to be killed in battle, rather than awaiting an execution at Tyrol’s hands. If the king was determined to die for his kingdom, Arden would give him his full support. “Your Majesty, I would like to volunteer to aim the contraption for you.” If this was truly the end, Arden wouldn’t need to continue his duties around the castle. Knowing he would make a poor foot soldier, he decided it was better to join the king upon the walls. Dying at the king’s side would be an honor.
Efren smiled and placed his hand on the duke’s back. “I welcome your assistance.”
Taking their leave, the two went back inside to don their armor. Groot watched them with admiration as they walked away. Arden was not a battle-seasoned veteran. That was plain to see. He had spent his life in refined luxury, not training with a sword. His willingness to join in the fighting was commendable. Efren’s dedication was worthy of song. Had h
e been born a dwarf, he would have been discarded. Groot could not imagine a braver or more loving sovereign. If they survived this onslaught, Groot would be honored to serve this king for the remainder of his life.
Chapter 39
It took days to convince King Oge to ally with Ra’jhou. He had demanded a demonstration of Efren’s invention before he would consider the prospect of an alliance. Luckily, Efren’s instructions were clear and precise, giving the dwarven craftsmen everything they needed to construct the invaluable weapons. The king was so impressed, he ordered his generals to make ready at once.
After a few days preparation, the army began to march. Among their supplies were the new weapons that would give the dwarves an advantage against Na’zora. Efren had studied many long hours to perfect their construction, and he had told no one except Pedr. Even the servants who had assisted the king in his studies were unaware of the invention. Efren had made sure not to let the same servant assist him too long, for fear they might uncover his plan.
Under cover of night, Pedr journeyed down the mountain, accompanied by an army of dwarves. Though they moved in darkness, their steps were far from quiet. Their heavy footfalls echoed through the night, frightening the nocturnal creatures in their path.
“It’s a good thing we don’t need to rely on secrecy,” Geryl joked.
“When the dwarves are marching, everyone knows it,” Pedr replied with a laugh.
“Are you ever going to tell me what you and the king talked about?” Geryl asked. He had been kept in the dark about the whole situation, even though he had stayed faithfully at Pedr’s side throughout the journey.
