by Jake Yaniak
Agnoril seized upon this opportunity at once. He rushed through the lines, dodging here, fighting there, slipping through a group of knights and finally coming to the winded Lord Vullcarin as he rose from the ground. But his brothers Rikin and Samor were already at his side.
Knowing it would be hopeless to face them alone he called out for the Lords of the Merkata. Skatlor, having regained his breath, came to his side at once. The Harz Nobles approached them with the confidence of gods. They walked slowly and firmly, without any sign of fear or hesitation. Their strength was unbelievable. Rikin pushed Agnoril back with each fierce blow with his sword. Even Skatlor could do nothing but hold his ground against the sword of Lord Samor.
All the while, Lord Vullcarin was regaining his composure. In a moment he too joined the fray. He drew his enormous blade and set his towering shield Admunth upon his left arm.
Agnoril braced himself for the inevitable as he found himself unable to break away from the relentless blows of Lord Rikin. He would have no way to guard the fatal strikes of the Lord of the Harz.
But no such blow fell. At that instant, Natham roared into the battle, casting Samor aside like an autumn leaf. Rikin he grabbed by the throat and pushed to the ground.
The Merkata Lords fell upon them at once and cut their throats, spilling their blood upon the stones of the city. Lord Vullcarin, seeing his kinsmen slain, and seeing the rage of the Merkata turned and ordered a retreat. In an instant the Harz Nobles began to pull themselves away from the battle and make their way back into the Palace.
Emboldened by the slaying of the great Lords of the Harz, Skatlor and Agnoril charged after them, now with the swords of the Harz lords flashing in their hands. The hosts of the Merkata followed suit, and soon they were charging through the Palace itself, tearing down curtains and smashing sculptures upon the floor with disdain. The Mountain of Fire was within their grasp.
Lord Vullcarin himself fled from the Monster of Vestron with a look of fear in his eyes. He knew the Palace well and was able to keep well ahead of Natham. In the carnage, he made his way to the throne room and sealed himself within it with his most faithful guardians.
Though he had bought for himself some time, the end was inevitable. He found himself seated on his throne, staring at the battered throne room doors. There amidst the dusk and splintered wood he saw the Lords of the Merkata approaching. He rose from his seat and drew his sword.
'All is lost,' he said. 'There is nothing that I can hope to do to turn back the army of the Merkata Clan. Allow me this honor at least, that I might face your lord in single combat.'
Skatlor looked at Agnoril and nodded. Agnoril nervously turned to Natham. 'For Whately.'
Natham stepped to the front and drew his blade. The Lord of the Harz did not recoil. 'So this is your lord, then?' Vullcarin asked mockingly. He seemed to grasp the entire situation quite clearly, much to Skatlor's dismay. 'My laugh, my FINAL laugh,' Lord Vullcarin chuckled, will resound in your cowardly ears for all eternity.'
Skatlor almost made a charge at him, but the firm hand of Agnoril calmed his fury. 'Let his taunts be what they will. Together we are not a match for the Harz Lord.'
'For what cause do you, the famed and feared Monster of Vestron, follow these shameless bandits,' Lord Vullcarin asked as Natham approached.
'I fight for Lord Whately alone,' he answered, 'whom you have foolishly imprisoned. Have our words not reached your ears? Have you not heard of the battles in which the sons of the Harz were scattered and slaughtered like lambs.'
'Indeed, I heard all of that.'
'But too much trust you placed in your own strength,' Natham concluded. Lord Vullcarin lowered his eyes as if he were almost ashamed. 'Much blood may have been spared,' Natham continued, 'and more than likely this city would still be in your hands.'
With those words their bout began. Lord Vullcarin wasted no time. He stabbed straight at Natham's heart with his long sword. Natham turned it aside with his own blade and swung his own sword at the Noble's head. Lord Vullcarin ducked just in time and moved around to Natham's left side. He stabbed at his stomach, but Natham's shield was there to stop the blow. Lord Vullcarin unleashed a fury of blows, each faster and more deadly than the last. But none could get past Natham's shield.
At length, Natham swung his sword down hard on Lord Vullcarin's shield. The blade broke in half; the shield was unharmed. Lord Vullcarin siezed the moment and swung ferociously at the Monster. Natham turned aside and caught the Noble by the wrist and flung his giant body, armor and all, against the far wall. He crashed to the ground in a chorus of clanging armor. Natham rushed over and caught him by the back of the neck, lifting him from the ground.
Terror filled the eyes of even Skatlor and Agnoril at the sight of the mighty Nanthor lord swinging so helplessly in the Monster's grip. Then there was a moment of intense silence. Lord Vullcarin looked into Natham's eyes with fear. Skatlor and Agnoril looked on in amazement.
The silence was broken by the sound of sobbing. Natham turned his head and looked behind the throne. There he saw a small girl, weeping and clutching the back of the seat, watching with horror in her eyes as the Monster held the Harz Lord in his grasp.
Natham perceived at once that this young girl was the man's daughter. He lowered him to the ground and released his neck. 'Take your family, your countrymen, and all that you can carry upon your backs and leave this mountain forever. Do not hesitate and do not look back, for we will not spare any who defy us.'
'You will not give me my honor then?' the humbled Lord protested. 'Must I seek my death from one of these cowards then?' he said looking at Agnoril and Skatlor.
'They have no honor to give you,' Natham said as he sheathed his sword. 'Let the order be given,' Natham said boldly. 'Let all the Harz and all the Vestri depart from this place in peace, provided they lay down all their weapons and swear never to return to Thasbond nor to set foot upon Fhuhar's fiery slopes again.'
Agnoril protested, 'The Lady would never approve of such wreckless mercy! She will have your head for this foolishness!'
Natham's eyes flashed with anger, 'I have no duty to your witch! I agreed only to fight until Whately was released, and even then I made no promise to fight with the Merkata. I only said I would fight against Harz. By your own words you have proclaimed me to be your Lord. If I am your lord, then let the order stand. But if I am not your lord, then do not pretend to bind me with duties to your Lady. Might I not, by Conqueror's Rights, make myself Lord of Thasbond in Vullcarin's place? Who would dare stop me? Do you not understand, Agnoril? All there is in this world is power. And do I not hold it in my hands? Can I not smash your heads together and make an end of the Merkata's Heroes? Who then would fight against me? Who would not flock to my side to be spared my fury? I do not doubt that I could summon to my side the armies of Meldomnon, Nanhur and Hele alike.'
Agnoril and Skatlor said nothing. They seemed to shrink as the monster approached them. In their minds they were certain that he was coming to made good his threat.
'Have you learned nothing at all in the time that the Lord Whately was among you?' Natham continued, now with almost a sorrowful tone in his voice. 'He fought for you not because he hated the Harz, but because he hated the suffering of the Merkata, who in years past had welcomed him. What welcome awaits him now? Will your queen renew her offer of love? Love? Your lady loves only power. But there is a strength that works without power, such as you have seen in the Lord Whately and such as you see before you now.'
The two lords of the Merkata stood in silence, not daring to speak a word. Natham laughed and turned to Lord Vullcarin and his terrified daughter. 'The Stars have betrayed you, Vullcarin. They have betrayed your brothers to their dooms and you to the loss of your kingdom. Now leave, and do not cross the Stars yourself by trying to regain this land. I call the Stars of Heaven to witness against you: In the day that you set foot upon this Mountain; in that very hour, the Judgment of the Astral gods shall fall upon you.'
&
nbsp; 'It shall be as you have spoken,' he said as he rose from the ground. 'Tell me your name. For in you I see more honor than in all the Merkata and Harz combined.'
'I am called Natham,' he answered.
'Are you not a god yourself?' Vullcarin asked with a bow.
'I do not want to be a god,' he said coldly.
Vullcarin turned and picked his shield off of the ground. 'This is Admunth. It was made of the last Adamant that ever was mined from this sacred mountain. In it is the very strength of Fhuhar himself. As you see, it has kept its bearer from all harm. I give it to you, for it ought not depart from the Lord of Thasbond, though I must depart from the lordship.'
'I do not want to be lord of Thasbond,' Natham answered.
'Nevertheless,' Vullcarin said as he put the shield in the monster's arms. 'I give it to you as a gift. It is worth more than my life, which you have already spared.'
With those words, Vullcarin was led away and brought south to the gates of the city. Again he was reminded of Natham's curse and the futility of attempting revenge. To this he agreed and on the second morning after the city was taken, he departed the Mountain of Fire forever and disappeared from the legends and histories of mankind along with his family and relatives.
Chapter IV:
Envy to Madness
The Lady Comes to Thasbond
Lord Ghelhurn's folly was not ended in his neglect of the capitol's defenses. When the news finally reached his ears that they had been fooled, and that Thasbond in fact was now taken by the Merkata, he did not do as he ought to have done. He ought to have sought council with the northern allies of the Vestri and Harz Nobles in Nanhur and Meldomnon. But, blinded by his own self-confidence and delusions of heroism, he marched to the gates of Thasbond with the army of Thasbond and whomever he could gather from the Lake country.
He encamped on the foothills of Fhuhar and lay siege to the city. He was confident that the entire Merkata army must be holed up in the city and that they would be scared and desperate and beyond help. But when he had been camped for only two days he heard the sounds of trumpets coming from the east. A great force of Merkata warriors, led by Oanor and Janik, marched against his flank. His men were caught between the gates of Thasbond and the approaching Merkata warriors. The dilemma Lord Ghelhurn now faced was the choice between turning to combat the newly arrived warriors and exposing his army to danger from Thasbond itself, or retreating back to Polin without even challenging the Merkata. In the end he chose to do both; he tried to fight the Merkata, and when Thasbond's gates opened and the armies of Ason emptied into the foothills to crush his army he attempted to retreat. Ason and Oanor chased them back to the very walls of Polin, where the better part of them were slain, including the foolhardy Lord Ghelhurn himself.
It was now clear to the Vestri that the age of the Nanthor was over and a new age of the Merkata was poised to begin. Some cities began to surrender themselves to the Merkata. Natham, who now ruled over them, accepted their loyalties gladly, though Skatlor and Agnoril were openly displeased.
Whately had been found in one of the less dark and terrible dungeons of Thasbond. He was lean and he looked much older, but he was generally well. A few weeks in the sunlight, breathing the open air, brought him back to his full health. He took his place at the side of the Monster and helped reorder the city. All those who wished to leave Thasbond were allowed to go south to the Lake country. Those who did not were required to swear all manner of oaths, calling the very judgment of the Astral gods upon their heads if they betrayed their new masters.
On the first day of the new year, the Lady Malia announced that she herself would be coming to the city. The evening before her arrival, Whately and the Monster spoke as they walked along the top of the southern wall of the Iron Palace. It was not the first time they had spoken, but it was the first time either of them had mentioned this eventuality.
'You have done very well, Natham,' Whately impressed upon him. 'You have fought with all your heart, yet you have not forgotten mercy. I have heard about all of the letters you sent to the Harz. You have been a very foolish strategist in some ways.' Whately laughed and shook his head, 'But you have been a very GOOD strategist.'
'What strategy I know I have learned from you,' he said. 'For the most part I have been relying on the stars, the spirits, and my own strength.'
'You still speak with ghosts?' Whately said with a sigh. 'I had hoped it would pass away with your childhood. But what is to be done? You are no longer a child.'
'And I am no longer in doubt,' Natham said confidently. 'It was just such a spirit that led us to the secret caverns beneath Thasbond.'
'You led the whole army of the Merkata according to the words of a specter?' Whately laughed.
'Yes,' Natham said, 'And let that put an end to your doubts. For you know as well as I that such a thing is impossible by natural powers.'
Whately nodded, 'Then I am sorry that I ever doubted you.' He shook his head and then laughed, 'The Merkata followed a ghost through the secret tunnels? Did they know of the one whom you were following?'
'They had no idea,' Natham chuckled.
There was a bit of a pause. Both of them leaned their arms against the battlements on the wall, looking out over the city.
Finally Natham spoke, 'The spirit tells us that our destiny lies in the west, beyond Olger.'
Whately frowned. 'You mean, in Olgrost? In Marin's country?'
'Perhaps,' Natham said. 'At any rate, I think you know as well as I do that we cannot stay in Vestron much longer. The queen desires power. In us she has seen such a power as she did not imagine existed. In you, the power of a cunning and skillful mind, in me she has seen the lesser sort of power. But nonetheless she will desire to possess it.'
'Lesser in only some respects,' Whately encouraged him. 'But history teaches us that there are many who needed such force but had only wisdom and many who had great power but needed wisdom. The world itself could not exist without power, but what would the world be without wisdom? And again, if there was only wisdom, there would be no power, and therefore there would be no world. Do not disparage your gifts.'
There was a slight pause and then Whately added, 'Also, I might add that you are in no wise lacking in wisdom.'
'You have always been more kind to me than I deserve,' Natham said.
'There are perhaps none in this world who deserve kindness,' Whately responded, 'Any more than he deserves life and luxury. Who can demand these things? Everything is a gift, whether it is good or evil. Do not question it when it is good.'
Natham nodded and then changed the subject back to the issue of the Lady's arrival. 'The Lady of the Merkata will not suffer a power to subside in Vestron that she cannot control. If we do not bow the neck to the Merkata clan by oath and by rite, we will find ourselves locked so deep beneath the citadel of Thasbond that the very fires of hell will nip and lick at our ankles.'
'I have feared this for some time,' Whately affirmed, 'Especially as I sat in the darkness with none but that stupid Gedda for company. The mind of the Merkata has always been on revenge and retribution. The whole while we were imprisoned he bellowed out curses and oaths against the Harz Nobles.'
'We cannot stay among such people,' Natham said. 'If we do not leave them, they will betray us both.'
'That very well may be the case,' Whately sighed. He laughed suddenly, 'She really is quite beautiful, don't you think?'
'Indeed,' Natham said, turning toward his master. 'The spirit, Duri as he calls himself, heard Agnoril and the devil Skatlor planning how they would 'deal with the outsiders'.'
'These spirits of yours are beginning to sound very useful,' Whately said. 'Is this Duri the same as brought you through the caverns of flame, and to victory?'
'The very same,' Natham added.
'Is this Duri going to lead us into Olger and into the hands of the Ohhari?'
'He says that the blessing of the Spirit of those woods will rest upon us, so long as we aid the Merka
ta no further than the taking of Thasbond.'
'What will become of the Merkata, the Harz and the Vestri?' Whately asked.
'That will be for them to decide themselves. We have not the power to rule over them all, nor would they suffer us to rule them. You have given much to the Merkata, and so have I. Yet you know in your heart, even as I do, that the Merkata will not honor our services except by envy and betrayal.'
'Then we must leave this land at once, even before the Lady arrives.'
'That would be the wisest course.'
'Still, it is hard to have labored and suffered for so long without seeing the end results.'
'With these people,' Natham sighed, 'I would not want to see the end.'
Their decision was wise, but it was made about a minute or two too late. They had determined to leave Thasbond at once, and make their way to the west toward Olger and beyond. They gathered a few things that they felt they would need and loaded them into a wagon, which they sent ahead of them to Olgalver, which had since pledged its loyalty to the Merkata. Among these things were the old maps of Lord Whately, which Natham had brought away when he left their farm, and the Shield Admunth, which was given to him by Lord Vullcarin.
Their plans and preparations were set in place without delay, but it was already too late. That very day, even as they talked on the southern wall, a messenger had arrived from the Lady of the Merkata. He spoke his words before Skatlor, Oanor, Agnoril and Ason. He told them:
'Thus speaks the Lady of the Merkata, Queen over all Vestron, from the Ragnon sands to the snowy peaks of the Frozen Mountains:
