by Jake Yaniak
The king dropped his own sword and fell to the ground, shaking and weeping like a child.
'Who are you!?' King Voltan pleaded, 'What do you want? I'll give you anything. Anything! Just tell me who you are, you owe the King that much at least.'
The leader hesitated.
'Put on some clothes!' he barked in a muffled voice through his mask. King Voltan was nearly naked, save for a white tunic and two gold anklets. The man passed him a robe with the edge of his blade and the men waited for him to dress.
By that time another man entered the room through the no longer secret passage. This last man was much taller than the others, nearly a head taller than the tallest of the conspirators. Volthamir was more afraid of this new intruder than of all the others.
There was no sheen or glimmer on the man's armor, it had been brushed and stained almost black. At his side he wore an enormous blade with a silver handle and on his back he wore a bright red cape with a hood. He wore no mask, since naught more than a hint of his eyes could be seen beneath his helmet.
'What is the meaning of this?' the King demanded. But the leader did not answer. Instead he fixed his gaze on the King and removed his mask.
The King fell to his knees, white as a ghost. 'Vulcan!' he said with a sense of horror and shock apparent in his voice.
'You have squandered the livelihood of your people, and now the heavens have taken away your scepter,' Vulcan said as he once again raised his sword in the air.
'Don't!' shouted the King. 'Kin-slayer!' he railed, 'My blood is your own, for our fathers came from the same womb.'
'Kill him now.' The very large man said. But Vulcan still hesitated.
'My cousin, you are right,' the king began to confess, 'I have been a fool and an unjust man. Spare my life, that I may make restitution. I give the kingdom into your hands, it is yours. Take away my power, cousin, but save my life.'
'Lord Havoc?' Vulcan looked to the large man with a hesitant look.
'Do what you will, Lord Vulcan,' Lord Havoc said in a cold and distracted voice. 'The kingdom is yours.'
Sweat dripped down his face. He stood there for nearly half a minute just sweating and shaking slightly. But finally he gathered his wits and thrust his sword through his cousin's belly. The king gasped and fell onto his face on the floor.
'Curse you, Vulcan!' he gasped for a final breath. 'Kin-slayer becomes kin-slain, I curse you.'
Then he moved no more.
Amlaman and Ramlos
In the central part of Weldera there are two great cities, Ramlos in the North, which ruled over the land that bore its name, and Japhrian in the South, which was the capital of the vast kingdom of Amlaman. At times united, but mostly apart, these were eastern citadels of the ancient Kingdom of Amlaman, which stretched from the ports of Rinin in the Northwest to the Illar Wastes in the south. The eastern border was the Coronis Mountains, which they called the Daunrys. In the west their kingdom extended beyond the Desset Mountains in the northwest to the very edge of the Black Jungle of Zyprion.
Ramlos was the name that was given to both the Northern Citadel and to the great valley in which it was built. This valley is more than two hundred leagues wide from the Daunrys to the Razzun Highlands. A great river flowed north from the highlands and made its way to the coast of Weldera. Thirty leagues after it fled the jagged rocks of Razzun it came to pass around the western slope of a place called 'The Hill of the Star'. There Ramlos City was built, and since ancient times this was the seat of power in the entire valley.
Amlaman was built on the southwestern shore of the Amla Lake, which pooled up about eighty leagues to the south of the hills of Razzun from whence its waters poured. Less than seventy leagues to the south was the beginning of the Illor Wastes, where the waters of the Razrin River failed altogether and dried up in the Mud-pits. There were very few that lived in that region, and even fewer that passed beyond to the lands of Illmaria.
From Japhrian to the Carn-u-Don Gap, which leads to Falsis and the Eastern lands, it was just under two-hundred leagues by the old road. But in recent days this road was seldom traveled, save by brigands and adventurous merchants and traders.
It would be quite outside our purposes to recount the entire history of Amlaman, but it would probably do us well to consider a few of the more important events.
In the ancient days, Amlaman and Ramlos were founded by Joplis the Noble. He built the Fortress of Amlaman along the western shores of the Amla River to guard his people from the wars of Xanthur who raged in those days in the southern lands. His mighty fortress held out long against the hordes of goblins that marched across the wastes, but in the end he was slain in battle and the walls of his kingdom were breeched. Ere the goblins could overrun the city, however, his kinsman Vol the Brave led a large army from Ramlos to rescue the Fortress.
According to the traditions of the Ancients, Xanthur was slain by the mighty Aggelos King Daryas whose armies tore the goblin hordes to shreds. Peace came to Weldera, and to the rest of Tel Arie for a time, but turmoil remained in Amlaman. Vol the Brave sat down to rule in Amlaman, but Joplis II, the son of Joplis the Noble, demanded his father's throne. There was a great controversy and in the end the savior of Amlaman was driven out to return in shame to Ramlos. There were endless wars and conflicts between them throughout the ages as well as many alliances, truces and marriages. But never since those remote days had the kingdom been united under one lord.
In more recent times, the kingdoms had come to be ruled by the sons of Volthos, a descendant of Vol the Brave. He had married Loana, the daughter of King Himir of Amlaman. Upon the death of King Himir, as he had no sons, the two kingdoms were ruled by the sons of Volthos and Loana, Rolvu, the elder brother, sitting on the northern throne in Ramlos and Volao taking up the scepter in the south. In time the kingdoms passed to their own sons.
Volao's heir was named Voltan, an immature man who became king too young and soon found his kingdom impoverished and dissatisfied. But Rolvu's son Vulcan was a more prudent man and soon restored much of the ancient strength and prosperity of the Ramlos Valley. Thus the south waned and crumbled while the north built and grew.
Voltan was enamored of women, but he took only one wife (in the proper sense of the word). Her name was Hilaia, and she was a peasant's daughter. For many years she bore him no children, which gave him no small amount of anxiety lest his bloodline fail and the kingdom pass to a stranger. This has often been cited as the cause of his pitiful infidelity, but it is clear enough from the accounts of those who dwelt in his house that his faithlessness began long before any such thing could have been of concern.
As I've mentioned, King Voltan thos Amlaman was the father of many sons and daughters, though only one of them by his wedded wife Hilaia. He was born on the fifteenth day of Messest in the first year of this century. She called him Aganthos saying that, 'Lord Agonistes has given me a son.'
But Voltan, fearing that the people might actually believe the fearsome god to be the child's father, named him Volthamir instead.
Vulcan's first years as king of Ramlos were spent in an empty hall, cheerless and hungry. Several decades of harsh winters and dry summers had stretched the resources of the northern kingdom thin, and even the nobles of the land had to suffer want. In the winter of his first year as King, he found himself marching to the woods, ax in hand, to gather wood with his servants.
It was there, under a forest of pine trees that he first beheld the Mighty Lord Havoc. Dressed in full armor he approached the woodcutters on the back of a mighty black horse. He stepped down from his steed and approached them without fear.
'Stay brave knight,' Vulcan said as he raised his hand, 'You know not whom you approach so boldly.'
'I know thee, King Vulcan thos Ramlos, son of Rolvu son of Volthos, heir of Brave Vol.'
'What is your business with the king, tell me quickly, for in such dark days we cannot risk too much careless hospitality. In days like these, when the king marches out to chop wood!'
'I swore an oath to your predecessor, that in the hour of need I would return to Ramlos and see to its security and prosperity. And as I have no interest in angering the gods to whom I swore, I have come to you now. And if my eyes do not deceive me, I would say that I have come in such a time.'
'What token can you show me, that I might believe that you are a friend of my father's?'
The man approached and handed the king a wax seal. 'This is my only token, and I pray for your sake that it is sufficient.'
'But this is the seal of Volthos,' Vulcan said, stunned to see his grandfather's mark.
'Indeed, it was for Volthos' sake that I have come. Your wise old father needed me not. But now I perceive that there is work for me to do here. Allow me to return with you to the castle, and I will return your kingdom to its ancient splendor.'
'What is your name, stranger?' Vulcan asked, still in awe of the strange visitor.
'I am Lord Havoc,' he said in his deep booming voice. 'That is what that I have been called for many long years.'
The coming of this mysterious knight was a cause of both great fear and of great hope among the people of Ramlos. He almost never left the king's side, whether in the dining hall or the council chambers. Soon the people began to notice a change coming over their king. Vulcan became more clever in judgment and more shrewd in business. Soon he replenished the stores and the armories of Ramlos and built up the Northern army.
The people who lived in the great forest of Heyan in the center of the Ramlos Valley had long been vexed by goblin raiders. But under the command of Lord Havoc, King Vulcan was able to drive them back into the Daunrys. Freed from their fears and encouraged by this display of might, the people took heart and the entire region began to prosper.
By the winter of the third year of his reign, King Vulcan thos Ramlos was able to feast on roasted mutton and pig in a gorgeous hall heated by a roaring fire. He leaned back in his seat and sighed, 'The people of Ramlos are safe and fed, truly the god Agonistes has been at my side.'
Even as he spoke the doors of the hall swung wide open and Lord Havoc entered. In his train was a large group of filthy travelers. There were many people among them, both young and old. All of them were thin and dirty, wearing scarcely more than rags.
'What is the meaning of this, Lord Havoc?' Vulcan demanded.
'Your people feast,' Havoc said in his loud voice, 'while your southern kin starve under the rotted feet of your cousin Voltan!'
Thus for the first time, King Vulcan's eyes were turned toward his borders. He saw at last the poverty under which his neighbors lived.
At Lord Havoc's insistence, King Vulcan gathered up whatever provisions he could and sent them south to his cousin. This he continued to do month after month for an entire year. But the conditions seemed no better. There still streamed into Ramlos a constant flow of wandering peasants, seeking bread in the northern country.
'Has he no soul?' Vulcan would thunder in his anger.
For a long time Lord Havoc stayed his wrath and advised him to be all the more generous to his cousin, despite his weaknesses. But in the end the abuses of the southern king became too many for even Lord Havoc's gentle words to cover up. Vulcan became wrathful. And in that moment when he ceased to be a man merely concerned and became a man set on action, Lord Havoc changed his own counsel suddenly and without explanation. He now spoke to Vulcan of war, and he spoke of it without any hesitation or doubt as though it had been his will from the outset.
For the next two years the army of Ramlos prepared for war, though they were not told against whom they would be marching. Lord Havoc insisted that they were preparing against both goblin raids and the threat of Voltan, who he claimed might rise against them in desperation.
All the while Lord Havoc sat in council with the King and slowly led him to devise a plan to overthrow his cousin and claim the Dual Crown of Amlaman and Ramlos, a crown only worn by Joplis in the ancient days, before the kingdom's split.
Because Voltan had become so hateful in the eyes of his people, finding men willing to betray him proved to be an easy task, especially when they were assured that King Vulcan himself would be marching into the south with his mysterious guardian Lord Havoc in train.
Preparations were made and the guards of Voltan were bribed. So that by the night of the fifteenth of Messest, the royal palace was almost empty, save for a few dozen guards and servants, the king himself, his lonely wife, and young Volthamir.
But I needn't say much more about that dreadful night, save for the fate of the young prince.
The Sparing of Young Volthamir
Volthamir stepped back in terror when he saw his father fall to the ground. His eyes dashed around the room in a frenzied search. What he was looking for he could not say; a dagger or a sword or a way to escape. He found a small knife with a keen edge and an ivory handle on a table in the corner of the chamber. He grabbed this and crawled toward his father's killer with fire in his eyes.
But long before he got there he felt a large hand grab the back of his shirt. Another hand covered his mouth and he felt himself swept into the air by a powerful man. He was dragged out of the chamber through a back door that led to his mother's bedroom. Halfway down the hall he was put down, though his mouth was still covered.
Before him Lord Havoc stood in his dark armor and his crimson cape with the strange old crow now perched upon his left shoulder, peering curiously down at him. The boy said nothing and just stood there frozen in terror. Lord Havoc lifted the helmet from off of his head and looked at the child with sad eyes. He did not look old, but there was a great depth and understanding in his eyes that is rare to be seen even among those who have lived a hundred years.
'I'm gonna kill them!' The boy said in a frenzied whisper.
'Silence!' Lord Havoc shouted at the boy. 'You will kill them, child. But not now.'
The boy stopped his mouth and looked up at the armored man.
'I am Lord Havoc, and if you desire revenge you must do exactly as I command you. Do you understand?'
The boy's brow furrowed and he nodded his head; tears began to stream down his face in a torrent. Lord Havoc slapped him with the back of his hand, so hard that he flew several feet before he hit the ground. He lifted his head from the ground and put his hand to his bloodied cheek.
'Do not cry, save your tears!' he commanded with urgency. 'They are like a fine wine, bottle them up and hold them safe from the world for the day of your revenge. Keep every sorrow to yourself, dam up your tears and don't let them flow. When the hour comes you will make the blood of your enemies gush like a mighty river passing over a waterfall in the high cliffs.
'I see fire in your eyes, and courage in your heart - a ferocity that would strike terror into the heart of any foe,' Lord Havoc praised the child, now stooping down and wiping the blood from his face and the tears from his eyes. 'But facing death is only a part of courage, the other part is knowing when to back down; when to wait. Had you run into the room just then, you would have killed no one and certainly met your end. Save your life, go into the chamber and kneel before your enemy. I will hold this,' Lord Havoc took the knife from the boy's hand. 'I will return this to you when the time is right. Then it will be he who will cower behind his bed!'
Volthamir did as he was told and knelt low before Vulcan. As Lord Havoc expected, the King's sympathies were aroused and he embraced the child, with tears streaming from his face. Volthamir, however, cried no more tears from that day forth.
By the end of the month King Vulcan thos Ramlos became King Vulcan thos Amlaman as well and wore, for the first time in an age, the Dual Crown of Joplis.
His actions as king both were swift and severe. He stripped the illegitimate sons of Voltan of their pensions and gathered all of the lands of Amlaman under his control. He set the people to work and saw to it that their labors were rewarded and not eaten up by the nobility.
He chose Lady Marel, a noblewoman whose ancestors once served in the gre
at Temple of Agonistes, to be his queen. Her family's influence extended even to Lapul and Rinin in the western marches of the kingdom. This did much to improve King Vulcan's reception among the people of Amlaman, who, though they hated their former king, were concerned about the means Vulcan had employed to end his incompetence.
Hilaia was allowed to remain in the royal palace and lived there comfortably for several years. But by the time Volthamir turned nine she took ill and died, leaving him alone in the house of Vulcan.
Lord Havoc left Amlaman soon after the crowning of Vulcan and spent most of his time away from the kingdom. He would return on occasion, however, to give counsel to Vulcan and to see how young Volthamir was doing.
One year, around the time of Volthamir's tenth birthday he appeared unexpectedly in the palace in the middle of the night. He snuck into Volthamir's bedroom without a sound and woke him, holding one hand over his mouth.
'What is it, my lord?' Volthamir asked, his heart pounding in his chest.
'The rites of Agonistes are going to be restored in Amlaman,' he whispered. 'Now do as I say. If I have ever saved your life before, obey me now and drink this.' Lord Havoc produced from his pocket a small vial.
'What is it?' Volthamir asked holding it up to the moonlight.
'It will make you ill; very ill,' he said gravely. 'But if you do not drink it you will surely die ere you become a man.'
With those words he vanished and was not seen for a long time.
The following year, on the thirteenth day of Primus, Lady Marel gave birth to a daughter. The night of her birth there was a dreadful thunderstorm. From the palace they could see the clouds gathering over the city and hurling bolts of light from cloud to cloud. But it almost seemed as though the clouds parted and the night became still at the very moment of her birth. Lady Marel named her Leonara. It was soon noised abroad that a child of such beauty was born in Amlaman that the storm-gods were soothed at the very sight of her. This was fated to be the only child of King Vulcan and Lady Marel.
