Just as Jonas spoke, Graggis returned through the tent flaps followed by Kiln. Though Kiln was covered with blood but he walked with no sign of injury.
“My Lord, I have sent out your messenger. And I have found someone that wants to see you,” Graggis said, bowing his head.
King Gavinsteal stood, nodded his thanks to Graggis, but kept his wide eyes fixed on Kiln, who stood facing the monarch, his own face struggling to mask a maelstrom of emotions.
Jonas shifted his feet uneasily, not sure how this meeting would go.
King Gavinsteal walked over to Kiln, and placing his hand on his shoulder, he forced a smile from his tired and sad face. “My friend, it has been far too long,” he said slowly. “I did not think I would ever see you again.”
Kiln subtly nodded his head, giving the king a slight smile. “Uthrayne, it is good to see you as well. I have grown bored in the mountains and I have sulked long enough,” he said sofly. “It is time I put my grievances aside and return to the world of the living. I thank you for your letter, and your words.”
The warriors around the duo looked about uneasily, uncomfortable at witnessing such a personal encounter.
“I wronged you, my friend and I have carried this guilt for over twenty years. There has been only one action in my life that I have regretted, and it was what I did to our friendship.”
Kiln nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Women have a way of making fools of men, my Lord,” replied Kiln, putting emphasis on the words, my Lord.
The king tried to force a smile, but the strain of the recent news regarding his son hindered his effort, and Kiln knew that something was wrong.
“What is it, Uthrayne?” he asked with concern.
“My friend, my son Baylin is lost, probably captured by the enemy. I need you Kiln, now more than ever.”
The king walked over to the large table and spread some maps out on it. Just then Prince Nelstrom strode into the tent wearing his typical black clothing and burnished black steel chest plate. His long dark cape billowed behind him as he moved quickly to the table. “Father, I heard you had been injured. It is good to see you are well,” he said as he quickly surveyed the room. His eyes swept past Jonas but returned briefly, recognizing him easily.
“I see that we have guests. Jonas, how good to see you. You look like a cavalier. Are my eyes betraying me?”
“No, they are not,” Jonas said curtly.
“When did you arrive?”
“Just today. This is Taleen, cavalier to Helikon,” Jonas replied smoothly. Jonas could still feel something about this man that he did not like. He couldn’t place it but his spine tingled slightly whenever he was around.
Prince Nelstrom nodded his head toward Taleen and smiled. “I did not know that cavaliers were so beautiful.”
Taleen kept her face a blank mask and simply nodded her head in greeting. From anyone else those words would have been a compliment, but even though Taleen did not know Prince Nelstrom, the words he spoke sounded like the hiss of a snake to her. She clearly felt that his words were condescending and she made no effort to mask those feelings.
The room was uncomfortably silent for a few seconds before the king spoke. “My son, this is Kiln, who I think needs no introduction. He arrived today with Jonas.” Prince Nelstrom crossed over to Kiln and reached out, shaking his hand in the warrior’s grip. As the two shook hands the Prince’s master swordsman mark could clearly be seen on his right hand.
“I have heard much about you. You are a legend,” the young prince said. “I would be honored if you would cross blades with me when time permits.”
Kiln glanced down at his son’s hand, although the only people that knew that Prince Nelstrom was of Kiln’s loins were the king, Jonas, Dagrinal, and Graggis, basically everyone that was standing in the room. Kiln smiled, his eyes sparkling at the prospect of a challenge as he noticed Prince Nelstrom’s master swordsman’s mark. “It would be a pleasure. I’d love to see if that mark has been well earned.”
“I can assure you that it has.”
“Where have you been?” asked the king.
“I was fighting with the right flank, Father,” replied the prince.
Dagrinal glanced at Graggis skeptically, but no one saw the brief exchange. They both knew that the prince had not taken part in any of the fighting. The young man was a skilled swordsman, but fighting in the dirt and mud, next to common soldiers, was beneath him. Everyone knew it, but no one said a word.
“My son, Baylin is missing, we believe him to be captured,” the king announced, sitting down heavily to look at the maps.
Prince Nelstrom sat down next to him. “Are you sure, Father?” he asked with concern.
“No, but we did not find his body. I have sent out a messenger to Lord Moredin to barter for his return.”
“That is good. We will get him back if he is indeed taken, I have no doubt,” replied the prince, his tone rather unconvincing.
The king looked at his youngest son for a few moments before shifting his gaze to Kiln. “We have much to prepare for. Kiln, you are needed now. Volnos, my high commander was slain today. It is a great loss to us. Would you offer your services to Finarth in its time of need? No oath need be taken.”
“I will,” replied Kiln evenly.
Suddenly a man in long robes hurried through the king’s entrance. It was Alerion, the king’s wizard. He looked haggard and his brow was covered with sweat. He carried a wooden staff ending in a blue stone held firmly on the end with silver wire. “My Lord,” he said as he walked toward the king. “I am sorry to barge in on you like this but I have urgent news.”
The warriors shifted away from the table to make room for Alerion.
“No need to apologize, Alerion. Here, take some water first.” The king offered, pouring the wizard a glass of water from a ceramic jug on the table. “Now, what is it that brings you to my tent in such haste?”
“My Lord, I have dire news. I have learned positively that Malbeck has been resurrected. But that is not the most troubling news as it was already suspected.” Alerion stopped to take another sip of water. “Malbeck’s energy has been floating in limbo for over a thousand years. Your ancestor killed his physical body only.”
“Then what brought him back?”
“The Shan Cemar.”
“What! That is not possible. The Shan Cemar is just a legend.” The King stood up in surprise.
“No, my Lord, the Shan Cemar is real, and it is now in the hands of the Dark One.”
“What is the Shan Cemar?” asked Jonas.
Alerion turned toward Jonas and noticed him for the first time. “Jonas, it is good to see you. I’m glad that you are well, and it seems the gods have favored you,” Alerion said, looking Jonas up and down with new respect. “The Shan Cemar is an ancient elven book that holds their most powerful words of magic. The book is so old that even the elves did not know its location; it was hidden thousands of lifetimes ago to keep the power safe. Wizards have been searching for the manuscript for a long time. It has somehow been found, giving Malbeck more power than you can possibly imagine. With that book he has access to all the ancient elven words that can unlock the true power of the Ru’Ach.”
“How do we stop him?” asked Jonas, a grim look on his face.
“I don’t know.”
An oppressive silence filled the tent as those inside contemplated this new development.
Finally the king spoke up. “One step at a time. We have a threat here to face first, and we have my son to find. Then we can worry about Malbeck.”
“My Lord. I’m afraid that this army is just a ruse to keep you busy while Malbeck destroys Tarsis. As we speak, Tarsis smolders and boargs roam the lands searching and destroying any scouts that King Kromm has sent out.”
As the king listened to this new revelation, the blood seemed to drain from his weary face. He collapsed heavily on the edge of his bed.
“You mean Tarsis is destroyed?” asked Dagrinal.
“Yes. K
ing Kromm escaped at the last moment with a small force of followers. He is being pursued by Malbeck’s minions as we speak.”
“How do you know this?” asked Graggis.
“Graggis, your skills are with the axe, mine are with magic. The means by which I found this information is irrelevant. The fact is, Tarsis is no more, and King Kromm fights for his life.”
“And that very same army that took Tarsis is sure to be moving south toward us,” added Taleen.
“We will be flanked on two sides.” Jonas said what everyone was thinking.
The king rubbed his long beard in thought. “Kiln, what would you suggest?” asked the king, his tired eyes almost pleading.
All eyes turned towards the famous war commander.
Kiln stepped close to the table and gazed down at the big map positioned there. “It would take Malbeck’s army over ninety days to march from Tarsis to Finarth and that is in the most advantageous conditions. Winter will be approaching by then and it is hard to say how that will affect his plans. Will he force march his army during the winter? Will he hold up and let the snows pass? We will have to keep careful watch on his forces. We should send out our best scouts now. I would suggest that you take your army back to Finarth to prepare for a siege and a long, hard winter. Finarth has never been taken, and that is where we should make our stand.”
“If Malbeck brings the Shan Cemar to our doorstep, then I do not think we can stop him,” Alerion said somberly.
Kiln narrowed his eyes in thought. “There must be something that can fight the power of the Shan Cemar. No army is undefeatable.”
“There is one thing,” added the wizard.
“What, Alerion? What can defeat Malbeck?” asked the frustrated king.
“I was told by my source that the only thing that may defeat Malbeck is an IshMian whose veins pulse with the blood of Finarth.”
“That sounds like a riddle,” interjected Prince Nelstrom. But he did not miss the looks that Kiln, Taleen, and Graggis, sent Jonas’s way.
The king did not miss the looks either. “What? Why are you all staring at Jonas?” asked the king.
“King Gavinsteal, Jonas is an IshMian,” said Taleen.
“Really? Jonas, you are definitely full of surprises. But what does the riddle mean, the blood of Finarth?” asked the king.
“My Lord, it sounds like that phrase would have some connection to the royal family of Finarth, which would exclude Jonas,” reasoned Alerion.
“King Gavinsteal, are there any members of the royal family that are IshMian?” asked Jonas.
“The only members of the royal family are standing in this tent, and none of them have the powers of an IshMian,” the king answered.
“There must be something we are missing,” Kiln pondered thoughtfully.
“Alerion, What do you make of the riddle? Is it possible that Jonas could be the IshMian that your source spoke of?” asked the king.
“I do not know, my Lord. I have relayed all I was told. If Jonas is an IshMian, then he could be that man. I know of no other IshMian with powers that might enable him to defeat the Dark One. On the other hand, the blood of Finarth part of the riddle does not seem to apply to him at all. Even if he is this man, I do not know how he might defeat the powers of the Shan Cemar. I will think on this riddle further and see if I can find anything related to the blood of Finarth.”
“IshMians are extremely rare and the gods seem to have a plan for Jonas. It is very possible that Jonas may be who your source was speaking of,” Taleen said.
“Jonas, I know I cannot give you orders as a cavalier, but will you stay and fight with us?” asked the king.
Jonas did not hesitate in his response. “My Lord, I have not yet received a calling. If my calling is to stay and fight then my steel will be yours, but if I am called, then I cannot argue with Shyann’s will. She knows best where I may be of use.”
“Very well. Dagrinal, send out scouts and spread the word that we leave at first light back to Finarth. Kiln, Jonas, and Taleen, will you three stay awhile so we can talk? I need your council on this dark day.”
“It would be my pleasure,” replied Kiln.
“Sir, there are men to be healed and I would like to find my friend, Fil. Do you know where I can locate him?”
“You are correct, Jonas. I’m embarrassed I did not think of my wounded first. Both of your healing powers would be appreciated. We can talk at another time. I think Fil is with Tanus’s modrig. They should be camped to the southeast.”
Jonas bowed his head slightly. “Thank you my Lord, until tomorrow.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, King Gavinsteal,” replied Taleen with a slight nod.
“The pleasure was mine, cavalier. Thank you for your help,” the king nodded in reply.
She turned and followed Jonas out of the tent. They strode through the tent flaps to their horses. Jonas climbed onto Tulari who was standing patiently outside. Several of the nearby guards were staring at them and their magnificent horses with open admiration. Taleen mounted her steed as well and they slowly trotted southeast.
As they made their way through the various camp sites, many men stood up and acknowledged their presence with a smile or a simple greeting. It was obvious to them both that their presence was uplifting to the entire army. It was a strange feeling for Jonas and he wondered how long it would take him to get used to it. He openly expressed his feelings to Taleen.
“It feels strange to have everyone look at me with awe and respect. I am so accustomed to the opposite reaction.”
“It will happen wherever you go, Jonas. I am still not accustomed to it, and I don’t know if I ever will be.”
“I guess that is a good thing. Who were you before you became a cavalier?” Jonas asked as he snuck a peak at her beautiful profile.
“I was the daughter of a blacksmith. He raised me like I was his son, taught me how to wield a sword and ride a horse. He was a stern strong man whom I loved very much.”
“What happened to him?”
“He was killed when our village was raided by goblins. After that I joined King Allryan’s army and fought for him for eight years.” Taleen paused as her memories came flooding back.
“I am sorry, Taleen. I didn’t mean to bring back unpleasant memories.”
Taleen looked at him and smiled. “Do not fret, Jonas. It’s just been a long time since I thought about my father. Anyway, I rose quickly through the ranks as a soldier and I decided to try my skills as a cavalier. It took me five years but I was granted the rank of cavalier by Helikon six years ago.”
“What about your mother? Do you have any siblings?”
“My mother died during child birth, along with my sister.”
“I see. I’m sorry. It seems we both have had difficult pasts,” Jonas commented.
“I guess so. But my father loved me and he cared for me the best he could. I was better off than many,” Taleen reasoned.
Jonas thought about her words knowing full well the truth of them. Even he, who led a very difficult life, realized at a young age that no matter how hard your life seemed, it could always be worse. He, too, had it tough, but he did have a loving mother who did her best to care for him. Jonas changed the subject. “Did many women serve with you? We don’t have many female warriors here.”
“There are not many, but I would not say it is rare. Women are allowed to fight but few can pass the training.”
Jonas looked at her again and marveled at her beauty. She noticed him staring and didn’t look away.
“Have you ever been married?” Jonas asked softly.
“No. The life of a cavalier is not fit for marriage,” she replied with no hint of emotion.
“Is it forbidden?” Jonas asked.
“No, it is not forbidden,” Taleen replied as she looked at Jonas.
Jonas looked away and pretended to scan the camp fires for Fil. A lone rider galloped toward them and pulled up short. He was wearing plate mail and a helm simi
lar to Jonas’s, except the horns were those of a boarg.
Jonas shivered involuntarily as memories came flooding back to him. It was hard for him to picture a boarg, or even hear the name, without thinking of his mother’s brutal death. The warrior was bloody and he held his shoulder as if he were injured. He lifted his visor and smiled warmly at the two cavaliers.
“Greetings, cavaliers, word of your presence has quickly spread through the ranks. My name is Tanus and I am a captain in the king’s army.”
“Hello, captain, my name is Jonas Kanrene, cavalier to Shyann.”
“And I am Taleen Gothar, cavalier to Bandris.” Taleen figured it was easier to use the western name for her god so as not to cause confusion.
“I am glad you are both here. Is it true that you battled a Banthra and several priests of the Forsworn?” Tanus asked, crossing his chest at the mention of the dark gods.
“It is true. Jonas killed the Banthra and helped me slay the priests,” stated Taleen. “Sir, are you hurt? Do you need healing?”
“I took a goblin spear to the shoulder. I had it patched up to stop most of the bleeding. I’d rather have you save your energy for my men if you are up to it. I have many men more severely wounded.”
“It would be our pleasure. After we heal who we can, would you be able to lead us to a friend of mine? I believe he is in your modrig?” asked Jonas.
“What is his name?”
“Fil Tanrey, he is a knight apprentice.”
“Ah yes. Fil saved my life today. He was hurt badly but nothing life threatening, thank the High One for that. He is brave and strong. I am glad he is on our side.”
Jonas felt a twinge of worry and pride as he thought about his friend. “Please, take me too him. I must see him and heal him immediately,” Jonas said eagerly.
“Very well. Follow me.”
Tanus led the two cavaliers through the camp; the men’s faces, reflected in the many campfires, showed a mixture of emotions. Some looked tired and haggard, others seemed happy to be alive, or solemn at the loss of their brethren. But all stood and greeted the cavaliers with a nod or a smile as they rode by.
When they neared a large cream colored tent, Tanus dismounted and tethered his horse. Taleen and Jonas both followed his lead, though they had no need to tether their own mounts.
The Cavalier Page 44
