Banner Lord

by Jason L. McWhirter

  “I told you he would be formidable,” Daricon said, knowing his words would further anger the Tongra. And to be honest, he hated having to take orders from him. But he knew that his current position was a consequence of his alliance with the Saricons and he decided to curb his tone some, thinking that perhaps it wasn’t wise to bite the hand that fed you. “But worry not, Tongra, his army will not be able to take the city.”

  Tongra Taruk’s steely gaze struck Daricon like a sword. Then he looked at the general. “And what of the garrison you left at Tanwen?”

  “I sent three thousand warriors to bring supplies to the garrison and to establish a more permanent base in the north…as you ordered.”

  Tongra Taruk, who had been leaning over the map, stood up to his full height. “What of the ruins?”

  “The Legionnaires stationed there have not yet moved.” They had finally heard from scouts who were sent into the pass in the north to look for the refugees that had fled the two destroyed cities. They had returned days before with the news that a small town had been erected at the old ruins. Thousands of Legionnaires, as well as civilians, were living at the garrison.

  “Do we have accurate numbers?”

  “As best as they could see there are between two and three thousand troops and maybe a third that number are civilians,” General Sigmar replied. “And, sir, they were building siege machines.”

  The Tongra nodded his head as if that news were expected. “What is he planning?” he whispered as he looked over the map.

  Daricon’s eyes were analyzing the map as well. “Tongra Taruk. We need to keep the army at the ruins from joining with the mercenary army.”

  Tongra Taruk had come to the same conclusion. “Have the army in the north block the main roads south. I do not want that army joining with Jarak's. And reinforce them with another two thousand.”

  “And if they try to join forces anyway?” General Sigmar asked.

  “Then our warriors will fight to the last man to keep the Argonian scum trapped in the north.”

  General Sigmar nodded respectfully. “It will be done.”

  “Now, how many outlying towns do we control at this time?”

  “The black markers show the towns we now control,” Daricon replied. “We have men stationed at over ten towns, over half of those along the coast and the rest in the interior.”

  “How many men?”

  “Over four thousand have been stationed throughout those towns and villages.”

  “And how many working mines do we control?”

  “Only four,” Daricon said, knowing that was not what the Tongra wanted to hear.

  “Now three,” General Sigmar countered. “The mine that the Dy’ainian king captured was one of the working mines.”

  “Should we pull our men from the other three?” Daricon asked. “Jarak will surely try to secure the lands in the north before he marches here.”

  Tongra Taruk was shaking his head. “No. We will secure the northern roads and keep the two armies from converging. Do we have any mines in those areas?”

  “Yes,” Daricon replied. “Here and here,” he added, pointing to two mines north of Jarak’s location.

  “Secure those.”

  “What about the third one?” General Sigmar asked.

  “They are likely already dead,” the Tongra said dismissively. “If my estimates are correct that leaves us with nearly sixteen thousand men here at the city. More than enough to defend the city’s walls.”

  “That’s what we thought when you attacked us,” Daricon added, wishing he hadn’t said it as soon as the words left his lips.

  But the Tongra just smiled. “But we are Saricons, you are Dy’ainian. Heln will guarantee our victory.”

  Chapter 9

  A week later and Jarak’s army was marching east, towards Cythera. Over ten scouts had returned, along with an additional seventeen hundred men of various ages who were eager to fight, and who were able to provide much needed information. The most troubling word they received was that an army of over six thousand Saricons had blocked the main road east of the pass. If their second army stationed at the ruins attempted to head east to meet up with them, they would be crushed. They had talked extensively about their options, and could only come up with one solution that didn’t end with the destruction of their second army. Reluctantly, Jarak sent scouts to the ruins. He sent one group north to circumvent the Saricon picket lines and head west to the ruins. In case they were captured or killed, he sent another hardy group into the mountains, trekking the very same trail they had taken over four months ago. Both scouting parties carried the same message. They had agreed to send the army west, into Rygar and then head south around the mountains and take the same path they had taken skirting the Heyrith Forest by following the north fork of the Pelm River. Kivalla thought that that route would take them an entire month, twice as long as the route through Dy’ainian land. It may even take longer considering they were traveling with siege machines. But what choice did they have?

  Now they would be forced to hold up somewhere and wait for the second army to arrive. That choice came with its own set of possible problems. Would the Saricons attack them before they could lay siege to the city? And as their army grew, how would they feed and arm them? But the first thing to decide was where to set up their camp while they were waiting for the second army to join them. Kivalla had convinced Jarak to set up camp far enough away from Cythera, so as not to incite the Saricons to attack them before they were at full force. Jarak agreed, and together they had discussed a location, hoping to find a place closer to Cythera but not so close that it might provoke an attack. They had agreed upon the small town of Bygon, just two weeks out from Cythera. There was a small contingent of Saricons holding the town, which they were able to quickly subdue and dispatch. They now numbered just over fourteen thousand, having added over two thousand volunteers to their army, plus over five hundred non-combatants seeking safe shelter. Thousands of tents and cook fires surrounded the town. Jarak and his companions, however, procured accommodations at Ander’s Inn, which they were more than happy to accept.

  Brant was sitting at the bar drinking a cup of ale called Boar’s Piss. It was the same ale that Anders had given him at no cost the first time he came through town over three years ago. A lot had changed since then, but not the ale, it was still exceptional. Anders came from the kitchen and smiled when he saw Brant.

  “Hey, son, you mind if I drink with you?”

  “Please,” Brant said, looking up from his mug of ale. He had been deep in thought, mulling over a few things on his mind before the barkeep had joined him. Anders took a draw from the same keg and leaned casually against the rear bar, smiling after nearly draining his cup.

  “I must admit I can sure make a good ale,” he said.

  “That you can,” Brant agreed.

  “How long do you think the king’s forces will remain here?” Anders asked.

  Brant shrugged. “Hard to say but I think we will leave shortly after the second army arrives. Which by Kivalla’s estimates should be about a month from now.”

  “How will he feed all these men?”

  “They are discussing that very subject now.”

  Anders raised his eyes. “Without you?”

  Brant shrugged again. “I didn’t feel like going. Besides, planning is not my strong point.”

  Anders took another sip of his ale. “What has you so deep in thought?” Anders had spent a lot of time behind the bar and it was not uncommon to see a man drinking alone, pondering his problems.

  “I want to go to Amorsit. Kaan’s children are there and I promised I would get them. I’m worried that something bad will happen to them with the Saricon occupation.”

  Anders sighed. “As far as I know they have taken control of the town, just as they had this one. Initially, we had some problems. Some of our women here were raped, and a few of the men who stood up to the Saricons were killed, their heads stuck on pikes to de
ter further rebellious behavior. My guess is something similar probably occurred at Amorsit.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Brant said.

  “How old is Kaan’s girl now?”

  “Sixteen.”

  Anders frowned. “Should be okay if she looks young.”

  “She does. I’m more worried about someone else. A barmaid there who is very beautiful,” Brant looked up from his ale. “The kind of beauty that does not go unnoticed. I think I am going to go get them.”

  “Will the king allow that?”

  “I do not know, and quite frankly I don’t care. He has no authority over me.”

  “He doesn’t? Are you not Dy’ainian?”

  “I am. But I am not a tool to be used and discarded,” Brant said a bit sharply.

  “I’ve seen you two together for a week now and I do not think he sees you that way. If you tell him it’s important to you then I think he will understand.”

  There was some commotion at the door as the few patrons, some of whom were Marastians, greeted the king with shouts of King Jarak as he opened the door. Seeing Brant at the bar he made his way to him. “Well here is your chance to ask him,” Anders whispered as he looked up and smiled at Jarak as he sat down next to Brant.

  “Brant, I’ve been looking for you.”

  “How did the meeting go?” Brant asked.

  “It went well. Which is why I’m here.”

  “My King,” Anders said. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Yes, thank you, Anders, can you get me a cup of that Boar’s Piss. Despite its name I think it might be the best ale I’ve had. When all this is over, I will have to commission some barrels from you.”

  “That would be my pleasure. One cup coming up,” Anders said as he reached for a mug.

  Jarak looked at Brant. “We have a plan I want to share with you.”

  “What is it?”

  “We are going to sneak into Cythera and meet with Angel. If Banrigar was right, and she is part of the Turari Order, then she will be able to help us. Kivalla said that she owns a merchant company and I think I can use this to our advantage.”

  “How’s that?”

  Anders set the king’s cup on the table and walked back into the kitchen so they could speak in private.

  “She will know the shipping manifests coming in and out of the harbor. With her help, we will steal supplies from the Saricons and load them onto her own ship and transport the cargo to the coast somewhere. Then we will unload it and caravan it to our location. And,” Jarak said, as if the next part of his plan was the best part. “I want to steal some of the Saricon exploding devices and use their own projectiles against them.”

  Brant raised his eyebrows at that. “Do you think you could get them?”

  “I don’t know. But I think Angel would know how.”

  “Who is doing this?”

  “Serix, Endler, and I.”

  “Isn’t that a bit risky?”

  “Perhaps. But we have some spells that should get us in undetected.”

  “Still,” Brant said doubtfully. “Is it worth the risk?”

  “I think so. I don’t think Angel will deal with anyone but me. Besides, I want to meet her personally. We will have much to discuss.”

  “You don’t want me to go with you?”

  “I do, but you’re not a mage, and the way we will be entering and exiting the city will require a mage’s skill.”

  “You better be careful.” Brant didn’t bring up the point that Endler was no mage either. But he knew his role as a Channeler was important, perhaps lifesaving if they ran into any trouble.

  “We will. In and out, no problem,” Jarak assured him.

  Brant took another sip of ale. “I was hoping to ask you something. I want to go to Amorsit to get Kaan’s children. Now that you are leaving soon for Cythera, I was thinking to do it while you are away.”

  Jarak leaned back in his seat. “By all accounts the Saricons have control of that town.”

  “I know, which is why I want to retrieve them. I’m worried for them.”

  “I understand. But Brant, I cannot afford to lose you.”

  Brant didn’t know what to say. He had never really felt like he was needed anywhere, and he had to admit it felt pretty good. “Nothing will happen to me. In and out, just as you said.”

  Jarak smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “You should take someone with you. What about the Gyths?”

  “They will attract a lot of attention,” Brant said. “I think perhaps it will be safer if I go on my own.”

  Jarak stood up and drained what remained of his ale. “Promise me you’ll be careful. We still have the mission before us. And you are vital to its success.”

  “You too, my friend. When are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow, at first light.”

  Brant pursed his lips in thought. He was eager to leave as well. “I think perhaps I will depart with you.”

  Jarak smiled. “See you in the morning.” And he turned to go, leaving Brant to his thoughts.

  Amorsit was two days away on foot but less than a day away by horse. The foursome made it there quickly, arriving with several hours to spare before the sun set. They were outfitted like typical travelers so as not to bring unnecessary attention to themselves. Thus it pained him to do so, but Jarak had been forced to leave his Kul-brite armor at Bygon. There was no way he could risk wearing it. None of them wore armor, but they all carried weapons. Even the average traveler carried steel.

  Jarak, Serix, and Endler had agreed to stay the night with Brant at Borgan’s Inn before moving on to Cythera. The town’s main street was lit by torches positioned sporadically along the wood supports that held up the covered walkway on either side. Painted in red along the front walls of the inn and mercantile that flanked the town's entrance was Heln’s red symbol, the horned helm. But it was faded and looked as if it had been scrubbed, whoever had done so futilely trying to remove the painted symbol. Jarak looked at Brant. “That’s interesting,” he said as they rode in, dismounted, and tied up their horses to the nearest hitching post. Most of the businesses were closed, but a few, the inn being one, as well as the towns mercantile, were open for business. There were only a few people on the street and there was no sign of any Saricons about.

  Brant was excited to see the children and his heart was beating fast as he thought about seeing Thea again. Tying off his horse, he moved quickly through door. In his haste he ran into a young woman as she was walking by just inside the door. Reaching out he caught her as she stumbled.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he held her at arm’s length. “I…” he paused as he looked at the woman. She was bald, but there was no mistaking her lovely features. It was Thea, and she looked equally surprised as he was. “Thea?”

  Just then Jarak, Serix, and Endler entered behind them, their hoods pulled low. They wanted to keep as low a profile as possible.

  “Brant, In Argon’s name it’s you!” she said as she jumped into his arms and hugged him fiercely. Brant held onto her and he didn’t want to let her go. After what seemed like an eternity she pulled away from him to see three hooded figures standing behind him, their faces serious as they scouted the inn’s occupants. There were only a handful of people eating and drinking and no Saricon warriors were present.

  “It is I. What happened to your hair?” Thea frowned and Brant wished immediately he hadn’t spoken so rashly. “I mean,” he stumbled, “You look…”

  “He means that with eyes and lips such as yours your lack of hair is as unremarkable as snowflakes falling on a winter day,” Jarak interjected.

  Thea smiled and Brant frowned. “It’s just that I barely recognized you,” Brant said. “And yes, you still look beautiful,” he added awkwardly.

  She playfully hit his shoulder. “It’s okay. I cut it all off to ward off the Saricons. And I’m wearing these hideous clothes just in case they come back.”

  Brant looked at her clothes and realiz
ed that her baggy trousers and tunic made her look like a boy. Then he realized what she had said. “Come back?” Brant asked. “Are they no longer occupying the town?”

  Thea shook her head. “No, they withdrew a week ago when they received word that King Jarak’s army was in Bygon.”

  Brant looked at Jarak. “Thea, this is King Jarak,” he said, nodding to him. “And this is Lord Serix Rilonan and Lord Endler Ral.”

  Thea’s eyes grew wide as she looked at the three men, who now, after they heard there were no Saricons about, had removed their hoods. Her eyes stopped on Jarak. “My King…I…should I bow? I’m sorry, but I have never met a king, or,” she continued as she glanced at Serix and Endler, “lords before.”

  Jarak reached out and put his hand on her shoulder to calm her. “Thea, we are far beyond formalities. I am a king of a land that I do not control…yet, anyway. You may be casual in our presence. Please, relax.”

  “Ummm, okay, I will try.”

  “Thea, how are the children?” Brant asked.

  Thea smiled. “They are doing fantastic. Come, let us stand at the doorway no longer. Everyone please have a seat by the fire,” she suggested as she led them to a big table by one of the fires that was burning brightly. Everyone sat down and Thea looked at Brant. “Let me go get everyone. I know they will be so excited to see you.” Then she left for the kitchen, an extra hop in her step.

  Jarak smiled and winked at Brant. “So, now I see why you were so eager to come here.”

  Serix chuckled and Endler joined in. “I will say,” Endler added, “that she is quite beautiful.”

  “You should see her with hair,” Brant said.

  “Brant!”

  Everyone looked over to the bar to see Tobias running at them followed by Jana. Brant jumped up from his chair and grabbed the boy in his arms, lifting him high. “How have you been?” Brant asked as he set the boy down.