“They do,” the maiden agreed with a sigh. “But they don't like to know that because you've told them.”
“Really?” the Telian asked incredulously. “Well, I don't see how you'd have known if I hadn't told you. Either way, you're sure it would have been better without the explanation?”
“Infinitely,” was her simple reply.
“In that case,” he said, taking her hand and raising it gently to his lips. “The most wondrous thing about the dawn is that it offers me yet another day to thoroughly enjoy your company.”
Once again, the knight was met with dazed silence.
“Don't even ask me how long it took me to come up with that,” he said with a wide smile, “because I'm not going to tell you.”
Having said this, he dropped her hand and proceeded to awaken his companions.
“I almost worry about him,” Gregor said softly as he sat gazing at the young knight.
“Don't bother,” Gwendolyn smiled, “it doesn't do any good.”
“Still,” the young lord replied, turning his face to hers, “he was right. Your eyes are far more moving than the sunrise and the best thing the day has to offer is unquestionably your company.”
The maiden only blushed in reply before joining the knight in his efforts. Minutes after this, the entire band was riding toward the village of Rakklin. During the hours that stood between them and their destination they discussed their plan of action. At last, they came to the decision that the direct approach would probably be best. As a result, Ian struck up an ancient ballad of Solarin just as the party rode into the outskirts of town.
This long-unheard tune, coupled with the rather unusual appearance of the companions, as well as the banner that fluttered from the top of the spear Darian was currently using as a lance, attracted the attention of the local residents. A crowd formed both before and behind them as they rode slowly toward the center of the village, making their way in the direction they hoped would lead them to the blacksmith's shop. Such proved to be the case, and the knight brought his party to a halt near the door of that very establishment as the bard brought his tune to an end.
“Excuse me, sir,” the Telian said, gazing down at a very tall and muscular young man who had emerged from the shop, “we're looking for Willrak Galford. Do you know where we might find him?”
“Who's looking for him?” the young man asked, crossing his massive arms as he spoke.
“I'm Sir Darian Calmar, Telian Knight and Knight of Solarin.”
“Solarin fell before I was even born,” the young man pointed out.
“That it did, lad,” Ian agreed. “Which is to say, it lost its lands and its military might.”
“What else does a kingdom have?” the young man chuckled.
“People who love it,” the dwarf replied, “lords that serve it, and a king who rules it.”
“I'm not sure Solarin has any of those,” he said, shaking his head, “but I'm Willrak.”
“Willrak Galford,” Darian said, smiling at the smith, “I've been authorized by Lord Andor, who speaks with the authority given him by Calmon Rallin, King of Solarin, to offer you a knighthood as well as the lands in and surrounding the village of Rakklin which were the possession of your grand-sires for generations.”
“This is treason, Willrak!” one of the town guards cried, drawing his sword as he spoke.
Instantly, the knight and his companions followed this example, each readying themselves for battle, while two of the guards quickly fled the scene.
“It isn't anything of the kind, Yallin,” the smith replied, rolling his eyes. “I haven't even said anything yet. So, would you please just calm down before someone gets hurt?”
“Say what you have to say, then,” the guard replied, “but these people are under arrest.”
“Thank you for making that point clear,” Willrak smiled, “although if you look carefully, I think you'll see that you're currently outnumbered, that they're all mounted, and that you and your men might not exactly be a match from them.”
“You're encouraging civil disobedience, Willrak!” Yallin yelled.
“No, I'm not,” the young man chuckled, “I'm merely stating the obvious. In any event, Sir Darian, if that actually is your title, what is this all about?”
“King Palnar has declared war on, and already invaded, Innalas,” the Telian replied.
This statement was met with a murmur from the crowd.
“We'd heard some rumors on that score,” Willrak said, “but nothing definite.”
“Well, it's a certainty,” Darian continued. “The fords across the Neres that serve as a bridge between Mikral and Innalas have already been captured. We all fought in the battle to hold them.”
“They're confessed enemies of the state!” the enthusiastic guard cried.
“Getting yourself killed isn't going to make you a sergeant, Yallin. Of course, it might make it easier for us to hear what the Telian has to say. So, why don't you go ahead and try to arrest him so he can slaughter you and your men.”
“That's it, Willrak!” the guard cried. “You've stepped in it for the last time. You just threatened a solider in service of the king in front of a crowd of witnesses.”
“Please continue, Sir Darian,” the young man said, shaking his head and raising his eyes to the heavens.
“King Illfas has requested the aid of all his allies,” the knight said, “including the King of Solarin.”
“If the king of Innalas is that desperate,” shouted a man in the crowd, “it won't be long before this war is over.”
“The request was certainly not an act of desperation,” Ian corrected. “The King of Solarin has powerful allies who are already working in the interests of Innalas. King Illfas hopes to resolve this conflict as quickly as possible in order to save the lives, not only of his own people, but of the people of Mikral, many of whom were once proud citizens of Solarin.”
“Even if you're right,” Willrak chuckled, “I don't see how a single knight, who's actually a blacksmith, is going to be able to do much to bring this war to an end.”
“It's not only your aid we're asking for,” Darian said, raising his voice and gazing over the crowd, “It's our hope that all the citizens of Rakklin will throw off the yoke of King Palnar's oppression.”
“That's inciting to riot!” the guard exclaimed.
“That's it, Yallin,” Kilren snapped, gazing down at him and shaking his head. “You're under arrest.”
This was met with laughter from the crowd and glaring silence from the guard.
“Even if we decided to openly rebel against the king,” Willrak said, “it wouldn't accomplish anything. In a matter of hours, we'd all be arrested and hanged. In fact, by this time, soldiers are probably already on their way from the castle. So, for your own safety, you had better go.”
“Doing the right thing isn't a matter of knowing that you'll succeed,” Darian cried over the multitude. “It's a matter of doing what has to be done and hoping for the best. At this very moment, the people of Innalas – the very people who fought to keep fleeing Solarins safe in the last war – are under attack. King Palnar will slaughter countless thousands in his quest for power, as he has so many times before. He has to be stopped, and this is your chance to help make that happen.”
“There is no chance,” Willrak replied. “We're a bunch of farmers and craftsmen. We couldn't face King Palnar's men even if we wanted to.”
“Yes, you could,” the Telian disagreed, “but our plan isn't direct conflict.”
“Then, what is your plan?”
“To divide Mikral's forces,” Darian explained. “To force King Palnar to pull some of his men back to defend any weak points we might be able to attack.”
“How many Mikralian lives will that cost?” Willrak asked.
“How many have decades of ceaseless war cost?” Ian asked, before turning his attention to the crowd. “How many of your own sons have lost their lives fighting Palnar's wars? How much o
f your gold has been spent funding his wars? How much more do you have to lose before you say enough? This is the opportunity to fight alongside a Telian Knight, to struggle in a righteous cause, to try to regain your heritage as citizens of Solarin.”
“I'm with you, Telian,” an old man said, stepping out from the crowd with a staff in his hands. “I fought in the last war and we lost. I reckon this can't go much worse than that.”
“You're under arrest!” Yallin cried.
In response, the multitude instantly exploded in heated debate as many of the younger citizens of Rakklin, who had never known anything but Mikralian rule, argued with their elders, who still remembered the glories of Solarin and the debts their people owed to Innalas. As the knight and his companions did their best to quiet the crowd, a group of nearly thirty soldiers arrived from the castle. The captain of these men, quite unwisely, demanded that Darian and his companions surrender themselves to him immediately.
This command led, in less than a minute, to a full blown riot. Many, if not most, of the young men of the village who would have stood by King Palnar, found the idea of arresting a Telian unthinkable. Those of Solarin descent, and many of those of Mikralian, held the knights of the Eilian in absolute reverence. Even if Sir Darian were in the wrong, the servants of King Palnar had no right to detain him. The gods themselves would judge him, it was not the place of man to do it.
The truth, of course, was that Darian had offered them no proof of his claim and that the people of Rakklin had no way of knowing that he was, in fact, a Telian Knight. However, although this thought may have occurred to certain individuals, it certainly did not occur to the crowd as a whole.
What started with words quickly led to physical violence. It was only due to the timely intervention of the knight and his companions that no one was killed. In less than ten minutes, all of the soldiers – including the town guards – had been stripped of their weapons, bound, and placed in the village center.
Darian and Ian used their powers to heal those that had been injured in the scuffle, while Gwendolyn attempted to do the same.
“I can't do it,” she said, gazing down at the nasty cut she was trying to heal, a clear tone of frustration in her voice.
“Yes, you can,” Gregor encouraged. “You've done it before.”
“Not in almost a year,” she replied. “I guess I just don't remember how.”
“It's alright, miss,” the young man said, “I'm sure it'll heal on its own in time.”
“Hold on,” Gregor replied, shaking his head. “Let her try again. I know she can do it.”
“No, I can't.”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “Why don't you do what Darian would do?”
“I'm not a Telian!” she snapped.
“I had noticed that,” he smiled. “But you can still pray. The Eilian hear even those who can't channel their power.”
“You're right,” she replied, taking a deep breath, before bowing her head and closing her eyes.
She asked the gods to show her what she had done before, to teach her to use her power to relieve suffering, to give her the ability to heal the wounded. Instantly, she felt a warmth pass through her body. Her outstretched hands were aglow and the young man's wound was closing itself. Seconds later, she was done. She had healed him.
Chapter 10: The Fortress of the Foe
“Well done, lass,” Ian said, gazing at Gwendolyn with a wide smile. “With him taken care of, I believe we're finished.”
“You’re finished here,” replied a nearby young man. “You and your friends need to leave before Lord Merclan sends more men to arrest you.”
“It'll be a while before that happens, Thaus,” Willrak observed. “Before it does, we'd better decide what we plan to do.”
“What is there to decide?” the young man asked. “We're subjects of King Palnar. Captain Ralloc had no right to arrest a Telian, but...”
“I have every right to do so,” the captain interrupted.
“Perhaps according to the laws of man,” an older member of the crowd replied, “but not according to those of heaven.”
“Are Telian Knights allowed to break our laws?” Captain Ralloc asked, raising his voice. “Can they invade a king's lands, stir up ill-founded dissent, and incite his subjects to rebellion without being held accountable? Would the Eilian allow that?”
“They certainly wouldn't,” Darian replied. “However, we've broken no laws. The armies of Mikral attacked Innalas, and thereby Solarin. We've been sent here as agents of King Illfas on a mission of war and, for the time being, the laws of Mikral do not apply to us.”
“Then, you are our declared enemies?” the captain asked.
“Enemies?” the knight replied, shaking his head. “No, we're certainly not your enemies. Adversaries of your king and kingdom, yes. Enemies, no.”
“However you color it, sir,” Captain Ralloc said, his eyes locked on those of the Telian, “you are acting against the authority of King Palnar within the territory of his kingdom.”
“We certainly are.”
“Which means I have every right to hold you as prisoners of war?”
“Unquestionably,” the knight smiled.
“Citizens of Rakklin,” the captain said, “I command you in the name of King Palnar to arrest these enemies of the state.”
“Even if we wanted to, Captain,” Willrak said, shaking his head, “I'm not sure we could.”
“No,” Gregor replied, drawing his sword with a wide smile, “you couldn't.”
“Then, cut us loose and we'll arrest them!” the captain yelled.
“You can certainly do that if you’d like,” Ian replied, glancing around the crowd as he spoke. “Before you decide, however, you may want to take a moment to consider whether that's really what you want to do or not. This is about a great deal more than the good captain here trying to arrest a handful of Solarin soldiers. This is about freedom and justice and helping ancient allies in a moment of need. Think well before you act.”
“Freedom?” one of the young men asked with a chuckle. “What kind of freedom? The freedom to serve some king we'd never even heard of before today? Freedom to be hanged for treason? Freedom to starve to death because we were fighting some war that has nothing to do with us, when we should have been raising crops and rearing cattle?”
“I suppose that's one way to look at it,” the bard nodded. “Another would be; the freedom to choose your own destiny. For generations, the kings of Solarin ruled over these lands. Sir Willrak's grand-sires watched over your own, offering them guidance and protection.”
“And generous and gracious nobles they were,” an old woman interjected.
“The land was prosperous,” Ian continued, “and even the poorest among you were well fed and happy.”
“We've never known hunger under King Palnar,” a young woman shouted.
“No, we haven't,” an older matron agreed, “but we haven't enjoyed the wealth we once did, either.”
“Life is more than gold, mother,” a young man said. “The king's kept us safe, as well.”
“Aye,” the dwarf nodded, “in the main, that's been true. But how many of you have been forced to fight in his endless wars only to lose their lives on foreign fields?”
“A few,” another young man replied, “but not enough to make us betray our king.”
“He is not our king!” an old man yelled. “And if your son had been taken from you and slaughtered in some meaningless battle, the fact that it had only happened to a few would give you very little comfort.”
This observation caused the crowd to once again erupt in heated debate, as most of the assembly gave vent to their thoughts and feelings on the subject of King Palnar's rule. The young knight raised his arms and asked the multitude to give him their attention. In less than a minute, order was once again restored and the Telian was allowed to speak.
“I understand that this is a difficult decision,” Darian said, gazing over the crowd as he
spoke. “It's one everyone here has to make for themselves. We're not asking anyone to join us who doesn't truly believe in our cause, and none of those who decide to stand with King Palnar will suffer any ill usage at our hands. Even if the forces of Innalas invade these lands, which may well happen depending on how long this war lasts, each of you will be watched over and protected. Unlike the king of Mikral, King Illfas doesn't believe in destroying the crops and burning the homes of people who have been drawn into a war through no fault of their own.
“King Calmon is your rightful liege-lord, the people of Innalas your allies by birth. I ask those of you who are willing to help us end this war, to finally put a stop to King Palnar's countless conquests, to offer your lives and loyalty to a fallen kingdom we hope to restore. It's not an easy choice to make, but time is precious. Who among you will stand with Solarin?”
Immediately several older men in the crowd – who had lived under Solarin rule in their youth – agreed to join the companions.
“I'm with you, as well, Telian,” one of the bound soldiers yelled above the din.
“You traitor!” Yallin cried.
“Who am I betraying?” the soldier asked. “A king that broke an alliance to murder his neighbors and steal their land? A tyrant who's lust for gold and power is insatiable? A man who forces others to spill their blood to fill his coffers? I joined the army voluntarily, but that wasn't the case with two of my cousins who...”
“Who both came home alive and well,” Yallin interrupted, “and who had their pockets filled with gold when they did.”
“That's not the point,” the young man said, “they didn't want to go, they didn't want to risk their lives, and they certainly didn't want to murder innocent people to make the nobles of Mikral even wealthier.”
“They had to do their duty,” Yallin replied, “just like we all do. They owed their king their allegiance.”
“Just as I owe my king mine,” the solider replied. “I'm of Solarin decent, just as you are. Until today, I thought my king was dead. I was wrong. If he needs my sword, it's his.”
The Lords of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 3) Page 17
