by Rex Hazelton
As the room erupted with shouts of agreement, Ahrnosyn stood to his feet. "Muriel, you are an orphan no longer. Not only has Stromane taken you to its bosom, but all of Nyeg Warl has as well. We are your brothers and sisters. As such, we’ll fight as one family."
Muriel's words added to the mortar that had already bound the warriors together. Though they revered her for being the Prophetess who had learned to sing the Song of Breaking, they loved her for her humility and would gladly give their lives for her as they knew she would do for them.
After a brief time given for talking amongst themselves as Muriel and Groar Blood returned to their places, Goldan stood and began to explain the logistics of the developing war.
"We have two arenas of battle to consider: one is in the north where the Malamor River flows; the other is in the south where the Lorn River is found. The Ar Warl kingdoms of Trynt, Storch, and Duikos are on the move in the south to add their numbers to Port Crown's own.
"The home of Ar Warl's navy, Port Crown is filled with battle-tested warriors who might decide to move against Cassiakynd before they attack our southern flank as we move against Malam. The elves of Forest Deep's main force have joined up with the Otrodorians, Cassians and Bjork to come to Cassiakynd's aid if this happens. Once Cassiakynd's safety is assured, they will move against Ar Warl's southern army to slow it down as it marches toward Malam. If luck is with us, our brothers will stop them in their tracks.
"The Ar Warl Kingdoms of Claryn, Dublytt, and Bostwytch stand between us and Malam here in the north. Laying east of Ab'Don's capital city, Orskov and Emylian will, no doubt, amass there. With what has happened in Belem and Suskynd, I believe Claryn and Dublytt, the cities closest to our present position, will give just enough resistance to bloody us up some more before we face the Sorcerer's main force. I expect Bostwytch to move against our northern flank as we approach Malam with help from the clansmen that inhabit Old Thundyrkynd."
"Old Thundyrkynd," the long, thin braids that that fell in front of Fyreed's ears that were hidden beneath the rest of his long, blond hair swayed as he shook his head in disgust. "They have no right to that name."
Fyreed spoke of the clans that flooded out of the Nordoc Mountains to claim the abandoned Bjorkian capital as their own after Ab'Don had chased the last of the seaman away. Genocide had been his goal. The Nordoc clansman had been enlisted to join the Sorcerer's murderous assault on the recalcitrant Bjork with Thundyrkynd being offered in payment for their lethal assistance.
Since then, the Nordoc clans had added ship building to their list of skills. Trying to emulate the Bjork whom they had always envied for the freedom their longboats gave them and the wealth they gathered with their use, the Nordoc had constructed a fleet of inferior crafts that lacked the nuances that made the Bjorkian designs so effective. Nevertheless, this gave the inhabitants of Old Thundyrkynd the ability to move their warriors with the speed that ships offered. The fact that part of Port Crown's navy had been stationed in Old Thundyrkynd before the colliding warls had choked off the Breach Sea ensured that the rest of the clans, still living in the Nordoc Mountains, could be moved quickly as well, even though most of the clans would use the mountain passes to reach the plains where Malam lay.
"Provisions will not be a problem." Goldan said after he shook his head in agreement with Fyreed who looked eager to make the Nordoc pay for their hubris, a payment the seaman had been collecting for the past three hundred winters as they made it a point to regularly target Old Thundyrkynd's merchant fleet. Blood for blood was the saying the Bjork repeated when they cast off the Cloak of Invisibilty that the magical Wisdor Stones gave them and struck the Ar Warlers.
"Since Suskynd's stores were not destroyed when we took the city, we don't have to wait for supplies to arrive from Nyeg Warl before we move against Clayrn. And I think once we capture Claryn, we'll find that their provisions are preserved as well. Things are moving along faster than we anticipated, but we needn't fear this, for we’ll reach Malam in better shape than we expected. Who can fault this?
"If Ab'Don wants us to come to him, we'll gladly comply. Bringing the fight to his home city gives him no avenue of retreat if the battle turns against him, not with the Hammer Bearer approaching from the east. But I guess the idea of retreating has never entered Ab'Don's thoughts. As they say, all the coins are on the table, and Malam is the table."
****
Before the meeting had time to conclude, a Plagean soldier came running into the hall shouting, "The Hammer Bearer has arrived!"
The echoing proclamation brought the discussion regarding coordinating Nyeg Warl's assault on Claryn to an abrupt end.
"He's approaching the hall now," the soldier added with a loud voice that was no longer a shout.
The instant he said that, a company of Plagean warriors entered the hall with three men walking in their midst.
More than a few of those gathered shouted out the name Jeaf Oakenfel as they saw the man who walked at the center of the approaching guard, the man who carried a hammer whose silver head was adorned with three rubies.
All went silent like the hall itself had gasped at the sight of the man most knew by sight and then held its breath until what it saw was confirmed.
Pushing ahead of the escort, Jeaf and his two companions, who carried walking staffs with them, used one of the gaps that cut through the circularly-arranged seats to reach the fireplace positioned at the center of the meeting place. Standing in the middle of the gathering that was immobilized by the stunning event that unfolded before them, all were given a clear line of sight of the revered man.
Still, the hall held its breath thinking this must be a dream. It had been more than five long winters since any of them had seen the Hammer Bearer, including Muriel and her mother-in-law, Elamor. But if this was a dream, it was one that had Jeaf Oakenfel in it, for the man that stood before them was clearly him, though his days of imprisonment weighed heavily on his physical appearance.
Covered in a woolen cloak with its hood thrown back, light from the pile of embers that glowed in the fireplace revealed a face made gaunt from the deprivations he had endured. Lines authored by the ordeal all knew he went through when he was held captive in Chylgroyd's Keep complimented the gauntness in an unhealthy way. Even his hair was disheveled like he had neglected to comb it since he was freed from his incarceration. It was much longer than he normally wore it so that it fell well below his shoulders. Still, it was him. None could deny that, though all were worried by his sickly appearance.
"Greetings friends," Jeaf's voice was hoarse like one gets after shouting too much. "I've come home. Speaking of which, where is Muriel?"
Grour Blood growled and said, "Wait," as the Prophetess began rising from her seat.
"How did you come to Suskynd?" Grour Blood asked a question that bothered him. "I sense no other griffin in the area."
Looking toward Grour Blood, the Hammer Bearer smiled when he saw Muriel seated near him, a hungry smile, one that was not in keeping with Jeaf's former nature.
His two companions snapped their heads in her direction as Jeaf said, "Ah, there she is."
"Hammer Bearer," Grour Blood was insistent. "Answer me!"
"It's good to see her winged-guardian is still with her." Jeaf's eyes slowly threw off their unhealthy appearance. A glint of amber light took its place, giving his eyes a fiery aspect. "All is as planned. I couldn't think of a better homecoming than the one that I've stumbled into. Goldan, Bear, Fyreed- my companions who went with me and my wife into the Cave of forgetfulness. Phelp, Wombur, Tsut’waeh- my colleagues in arms. I'm so glad you're all here because I have a gift I want to give you. But before I do, I want to answer Grour Blood's question.
"Why I flew here of course." The fiery aspect in the Hammer Bearer's eyes grew in intensity as he added, "But I didn't need a griffin to do so."
With that said, Jeaf's companions lifted their staffs.
"Beware," Elamor shouted as she took out a candle and lit it w
ith a Word of Power. "That's not my son!"
"You don't know how right you are," Jeaf shouted as the flames in his eyes expanded to consume his body. But instead of dying out once they had finished devouring the flesh they fed on, the flame rose up into the air where it watched the gift of mayhem it had brought being unwrapped.
Dolfon and the Candle Warriors were the first to respond as each lit a candle of their own. The Bro’Noon were already leaping toward the men whose staffs had transformed into black candles whose flames reached out to stab at them with spear-like fingers of fire.
Two Bro’Noon who were killed impeded their brethren's progress as they fell. This gave the assailants time to redirect their fire at the kings' entourages that rose to defend their lords.
Never wanting to be coddled, Wombur bellowed as he drew out his sword and charged past his men who were trying to protect them and at the two whose cloaks were transforming into black robes the Hag wore.
Moving in tandem, the two wizards hit the Bull King with fiery fingers that cut through the Wombur's thick chest and through two others who were standing behind him.
In the few moments it took the Candle Makers to form their fiery shields with their spinning candles, the Hag struck the gathering with impunity. Time and again, their candle's fiery fingers pierced through chainmail and breast plates alike, skewering the flesh they protected beneath them.
Grour Blood spread his wings over Muriel and her mother-in-law a moment before one of the fiery fingers struck his extended feathers. Burned by the Hag fire, the griffin's magic kept the fiery finger from reaching the women he shielded.
A roar announced Bear as he charged at the Hag who sent their fiery fingers his way. If not for the Hammer of Power's magic that made his skin tougher than armor, he would have shared Wombur's fate. As it was, he was knocked backward while his Cragmar brother was lanced three quick times like he was being stabbed by a knife-wielding attacker.
As the giant fell, a woman dressed in a Candle Maker's robe leapt over the behemoth and drove an elongated, flaming spear through the chest of one of the Hag. Dolfon, the leader of the Candle Warriors was on the move. In short order, six other Candle Warriors had arrived to surround the remaining Hag. But before they could do more than parry the Hag's frantically moving, fiery finger aside, Bear had regained his balance and roared as he leapt through the air swinging his metal studded club as he came. The braids of hair on his head were tossed about as he flew along. His round-shaped nose and thick lips were skewed with rage as he came. The embers in the fire pit were ignited into flames by the wind caused by his passing.
Though the end of Bear's weapon was sheared off by Hag fire, the remaining portion of the club was more than adequate to crush the wizard beneath its weight; especially since that weight was driven by muscles whose power was unimaginable if one used human scales to measure it.
Once Bear finished his work, the mass of flame that hovered over the gathering was chased away by the fiery lances the Candle Warriors sent the spirit's way. For that was what it was- an evil spirit known to mankind as a fraethym, Ab'Don's servant given to him by the dark power he drew upon.
****
Before it had barely begun, the fight was over. But in the moment it took to kill the Hag, the gathering had been decimated by the dark wizards' magic. Wombur lay dead, along with a host of warriors who stood between the Hag and the leaders they served.
Among the slain was a lone Healer who was struck down before his candle's magic could be transformed into a shield. After Tsan'wyl shook his head when he saw the hole in the Rowniel's chest, Fillanor collapsed beside the Candle Maker's body.
"Oh Rowniel," Fillanor cried out as she cradled the Healer's head in her lap. "I love you," the Candle Warrior said the words she lacked courage to utter when Rowniel was alive.
A barely perceived woosh sound filling her ear made Fillanor lift her head. That's right, she thought, you're still here. And with this awareness in place, Fillanor said all that she had hidden in her heart, knowing Rowniel would hear her.
****
"The fraethym must have mastered the illusion he cast over itself while Jeaf was imprisoned," Ahrnosyn told the kings and chieftains who gathered closer to the hall's doorway as the Healers continued their work where the original meeting had taken place.
Officers of various ranks had been slain or wounded in the surprise attack, necessitating a restructuring of the armies. Due to the makeup of the audience gathered in Great Hall, that included most of Nyeg Warl's leadership, many of the promotions were made on site. The positions that would be filled by those left in charge of the encampments would be conferred on them once the commanders' deputies returned to their base of operations. The commanders themselves stayed close to the lord or chieftain they served least another attack had been planned.
Already wary, Nyeg Warl's forces went on high alert. While guards were doubled, the inhabitants of Suskynd were forced to stay inside their homes, leaving the streets empty save for the soldiers on patrol. Silence ruled. The excitement of the recent victory had been quelled.
"That's why Jeaf looked so emaciated." Elamor appeared visibly shaken by what she had seen. "The Hag and the Fraethym only had a tortured victim to copy. Now Wombur and so many more are dead."
"Including Rowniel." Fillanor spoke from where she stood beside Dolfon. Frowning, the Candle Warrior looked around at the others wondering if they caught the meaning in her words.
"Aye," the astute Chief Mentor of the School of the Sword and the Song intoned. "We've all lost loved ones this day. But sadly, it won’t be the last time this will happen. None will leave this war whole, not in the Ar or Nyeg. Only Ab'Don can escape the conflict unscathed by lose if he survives since he loves only himself."
Angered by the deceptive illusion's emaciated depiction of her husband's condition, Muriel said, "If Jeaf and I have anything to say about the outcome of this war, the Sorcerer will suffer right along with everyone else. It's his war. He should share in the misery it will bring."
Reaching over to touch the finger that held her father's ring on it, the Prophetess frowned and added, "We need to contact Jeaf to see how he is faring and to tell him what's happened here. All need to be warned about the Sorcerer's ploy."
****
Three hounds as black as the void sitting between the distant stars raced across the Great Plains on their way to the Nyeg Warlers' encampments. Stopping short of the Plagean guards at a distance that made them look like boulders nestled in the grassland, the canines hunkered down on their haunches and waited. In time, a lone rider left the encampment and headed toward them. As the rider approached, the dogs morphed into humans draped in hooded black robes.
Seeing the Hag rise above the grass didn’t stop the rider, nor did the flames that burst to life above the black candles they held.
"Welcome." One of the dark wizards greeted Plagea's king before he dismounted and stood before them.
"Forget the formalities," Claude hastily replied. "The less time we spend together, the better. Let's conduct our business and be on our separate ways."
"Ah, a man to our liking," another Hag said with a dry chuckle. "Very well then. How is the plan progressing?"
The term plan spoke volumes. This wasn't the first time that Claude had met with the Hag. The first time had been when they offered to help the Plagean King defeat the Vanic family when they threatened to overthrow his rule. Though the assistance they gave him at the time was minimal, it was enough to sway the balance of power and give Claude the victory he wanted. It also gave the Hag an inroad for further deals. And as expected, another deal was struck, one the dour wizard had referred to as the plan.
"Everything is moving forward as you wanted." Claude didn't seem the least bit intimidated by the wizards who could snuff out his life as easily as they did their candle flames. "My men got your brothers into the kings' conference as you asked, though I didn't expect a fraethym would be included in their numbers. The Bull King was kille
d along with a number of other key players in our military operations. Sadly, Bardensen survived the fight."
"The damage they inflicted on the Nyeg Warlers has already been reported. The fraethym told us how well our brothers fought." The Hag's face could not be seen in the deep shadow its hood cast. "As for Bardensen- the honor of killing him will be yours when you attack Shomeron's warriors once they reach Malam. I dare say, that surprise will be as big as the one we sprung this evening.
"Once you strike down Bardensen, you must extricate yourself from the battle and join forces with Ar Warl. The Nordoc have been given orders to help you do so. And once we defeat the Nyeg, Shomeron will be yours. Not only that, you will head the counsel that will rule over all of the western warl. Unimaginable wealth, power, and honor will be yours as Lord Ab'Don has promised. The Hag will also be in your debt."
The three wizards's bowed their heads with such subtlety that Claude barely caught the movement. His acknowledgement was just as understated.
"Have you talked with the Clay Giants?" The third Hag had spoken.
"Zylok has welcomed my overtures and agreed to help me attack Shomeron in exchange for being given absolute sovereignty over the Clay Swamps and the Blood Canyons."
"The Blood Canyons were not a part of our offer." The Hag spoke in a business-like fashion.
"The deal won't be made unless the giants get the Blood Canyons. They've developed quite a taste for the place since the time they first set foot in it during the days they served the Lord of Regret. If not for Koyer's influence, they would have been happy having total control of the swamp from whence they come. Being able to go to any extreme to keep humans out of their home without fearing reprisal would have been enough incentive if they hadn't been infected with Koyer's ambition."
