Kingdom's Forge: Book 01 - Paladin's Redemption

by Kade Derricks

  “I hate the thought of letting all these supplies get to the Golden. I wish there was some way to destroy the carts,” Dain said. Every cart made their enemies stronger, more capable. Deprive the enemy of provisions, his instructors had always said, and you will wear them down.

  “I have Quickly with me. We can take them together,” Jin repeated, practically bouncing on her tiptoes.

  “Jin,” he said, stooping to put his hands on her shoulders, “there are too many even for both of us. There’s a time to fight, and a time to run. This is the time to run.” After a moment, Jin sighed and nodded, and he squeezed her shoulders and rose.

  “I know a way,” Sera said, picking up where they’d left off. “We need to get ahead of them, though. You will have to push hard on that leg.”

  “I’ll keep up, Princess. Just lead out,” he said with what he hoped was a brave smile.

  They scaled a small, wooded hill. Dain felt a spike of pain with every step, but pressed on without complaint. When they crested the top, he was panting heavily. Sera looked at him for a moment, waiting for him to catch his breath.

  “Ready…when you are,” he said between gasps. His lungs burned and his leg was all aflame, but he refused to slow down. If Sera knew a way to destroy the carts, they had to do it.

  Without another word, she led them down the hill’s far side and across a small stream toward a second, taller hill. In an hour, they neared its top.

  “The road skirts around this hill, just like the last one. There’s a steep drop-off on the far side and a rocky outcropping. From there we will be able to see the carts,” Sera said. “And then I will see about stopping them.”

  They continued forward, slower now, staying close to the tree trunks and darkest shadows as they approached the edge. Still in the deep shade, Dain saw bright daylight ahead, and stopped when the land ahead suddenly fell away before him. His leg ached. He sagged against a nearby trunk and looked around. The high, bright sun made him squint until his eyes adjusted.

  Tall pines ran up to the hill’s very brink, where the earth then plunged hundreds of feet below as if the landscape had been cut by a knife. Straight down, he could see the path winding along, hugging close to the near-vertical cliff.

  The lead wagon came into view then. It creaked down the trail, growing ever closer. The road was rocky and steep here, and instead of goading the oxen, the driver hauled back on the beast’s reins and used a wooden hand brake at his side to control the cart’s descent. Dain watched the second load of supplies break into view. How many golden elves would each feed? How many more wood elves would those soldiers then kill? Though he didn’t want to, Dain’s mind estimated the numbers.

  And there was no way, no way that he could see to stop them.

  Sera saw the first cart winding down the path below. Every cart strengthened her people’s enemies. Every cart meant more wood elves would die. She had only the vaguest of outlines of a plan to stop the supply train, but she had to try something.

  Dain may have been right about Jin having a sword, she forced herself to admit—a way to avoid feeling powerless and to keep herself from harm. Sera hated it nonetheless. Children should know only peace. No child should have to take up a weapon, but if she wanted a world of peace for her daughter—one where Jin wouldn’t have to fight simply to exist—she had to stop these invaders now.

  She reached out through her magic, allowing her senses to expand, touching nature, joining with it. Despite the distance, she heard the oxen’s heavy footfalls on the earth below, felt the rising air currents flowing along the cliff, sensed the bottomless pools of water in the valley depths below. The forest itself seemed to breathe, deep and free, all around her.

  Her abilities were stronger than most of her people, particularly in working with earth. She had been born blessed, in that way, and being enslaved to the Golden had pushed her limits daily, expanding that strength further. Today, she would turn that strength against them.

  Sera stood on the cliff’s edge, waiting until the final cart began its long descent before starting her casting. She gathered her strength and focused her mind into the task ahead, and then began reaching out into the cliff. She strained against the resistance of the stone below. It had been in place for many ages, and, through its sheer bulk, fought her. She concentrated, thinking only of the casting. Her limbs trembled and her head felt as if it might split in two and her will almost shattered under the burden.

  The first pebble bounced off the cliff onto the trail below. Only a small pebble, the size of a sparrow, it ricocheted off larger rocks and boulders until harmlessly striking the shaggy foreleg of the lead ox. The surprised beast stopped. It turned its wooly head to gaze up the steep slope.

  The cart driver was not so perceptive. Sera, her senses heightened, heard him curse the beast before reaching back to whip the animal. She watched the long leather unfurl toward the ox’s hide, and then felt something rumble around and underneath her. A great shift of earth and air.

  Boulders, larger than the carts themselves, broke free from the hill and tumbled toward the elves below. They clapped together like thunder, roaring along, dislodging other rocks, gathering speed and power and multiplying as they fell.

  The sound overwhelmed the caravan. The golden elves below looked up, saw their peril, and lost their nerve. Cavalry horses bucked and screamed, their startled riders struggling to control the terrified animals.

  The rearmost cart took the first big hit from a boulder the size of a house, exploding in a shower of splinters and within seconds three more had been destroyed in the same manner. Smaller boulders, rolling among their larger brothers, streamed across the path like a great thundering wave, tripping the cavalry horses and then overwhelming rider and mount alike.

  The lead wagon’s driver tried to flee. With his whip he flogged at his ox, but a boulder crushed the stubborn animal, and a second stone wedged itself between the steep cliff and a large pine at the path’s lower end, bottling up the elves in the deathtrap.

  More merciless stones continued to rain down the slope until every wagon was destroyed, and every golden elf with them.

  Panting, Sera dropped her spell, and then gazed down. Where once a smooth, narrow path had been a dense rock field now lay. No sign of the carts, cavalry, or any other trace of the supply train remained. Instead of feeling triumph, the destruction sickened her. Only the warm, smoldering anger for her people restrained her lurching stomach. Never had she felt so tired, so drained.

  A horse whinnied, and Sera turned her head toward the sound. Atop the path’s farthest end, above the destruction, stood three riders. They had somehow escaped her wrath. Gallad sat there on his white horse, surveying the carnage. Brown, powdery dust clung to him, coating his once-shining armor in a thick layer of grime, and his plumed helm was gone. Blood oozed from a jagged cut across his forehead. It dripped down from his pointed nose. With a detached sort of curiosity, Sera noticed how quiet the forest around them had become, as if even the smallest of woodland creatures were holding their breath.

  After a moment, Gallad spotted her standing in the bright sun, high on the cliff above. She was at the edge of the tree line, well out of arrow range. His blue eyes were fierce. He shook an armored fist at her and his mouth moved, but without the help of her magic, the distance garbled his words.

  She felt rather than saw Dain step closer to her protectively. When she looked up at him, he was returning Gallad’s ranting with a simple wave and a smile. Some of the tension drained from her body.

  “You do have a habit of making friends, don’t you, paladin?” Sera asked, letting go of the pent-up air in her lungs and leaning on him for support.

  “Princess, I had nothing to do with this one,” he replied, slinging an arm around her as Jin came to stand by his other side. He looked first at her, awe painted on his features, then turned down at Gallad. His expression darkened. “But I swear to you, before this war is over, I am going to kill that bastard.”

 
; Sera studied his face and saw the sincerity there. She met his eyes. “Not if I beat you to it,” she said.

  Despite Dain’s nagging injury and Sera’s exhaustion, the three made good time heading back to Teran. They found the Golden camp first, and skirted wide around it. Just north of the second gate, a wood elf scout spotted them and led them to Teldrain’s army. He brought them through the camp to its tightly-guarded center and finally the king’s own command tent before returning to his duties.

  “King Teldrain is out with the scouts surveying the invader’s army. He will return soon,” one of the guards said.

  “Thank you,” Sera replied as she stepped into the tent. Inside stood an expansive but unadorned table stacked with piles of paper. Scouting reports, she determined after glancing at them. A large map made from thick, woven cloth had been rolled out on the floor and was marked with white and black triangles representing the two armies. Compared to her father’s white defenders, there were more than three times as many black markers for Elam’s forces. A single black triangle lagged behind the main body of Golden. She smiled.

  That one won’t be joining them.

  Dain studied the map with interest, leaning over it and rubbing his scruffy chin with one hand. He knelt down on it, below the white markers, and began running his fingers over the map, attempting to estimate the distances.

  “See, here Jin,” he called. “Here is the first gate down into Teran. Your grandfather has destroyed it in hopes of delaying the Golden. It will take them valuable time to open the cave mouth back up. And it will pin them down.”

  Jin joined Dain at the map, her brows drawn together in concentration.

  “Now, he’s keeping his army at their flank to hammer at them if they turn their attention to the city,” Dain continued. “But the city defenders aren’t mobile. They can’t chase after the Golden army like your grandfather can. The Golden will first try to smash this army before putting the city to siege. Unless they split their forces.”

  “Will we win, Dain?” Jin asked.

  “Win? No,” he said simply. “Your grandfather doesn’t have enough troops, and they aren’t trained or organized properly. The wood elf fighting style is all wrong for this type of battle, but if we can hurt the golden elves badly enough, cost them enough men, they won’t have the strength to besiege Teran. Your grandfather has a few advantages still. He holds the high ground here. Also, he has established a few fortifications, like those wooden spikes we passed by on the way in.”

  “Why is our fighting style wrong? What’s wrong with it?” Jin asked. Sera knew that she was offended. She heard it in her daughter’s tone. Dain opened his mouth, closed it, and then began to speak again, gesturing with his hands to aid his explanations. He speaks to her as if she were grown, Sera thought, not for the first time. She felt the corners of her mouth lift slightly despite the dire situation they all found themselves in.

  “The greatest strength of the wood elves is their mobility. They can outmaneuver the Golden, and they are vastly superior raiders. If they can attack quickly then melt away into the forest, the Golden will never be able to destroy them completely. Here though, in this type of battle, that mobility is wasted since they have to protect the population in Teran. They can’t strike and run, trying to bleed the enemy dry,” Dain continued. “The Golden, on the other hand, are a more, well…traditional army. They march close together in heavy armor and their mages protect them from spells. Their soldiers are trained for fights like this one. This kind of battle suits them almost perfectly.”

  “So they will win, then?” Jin asked. She studied Dain with concern. Sera found herself doing the same.

  “Not necessarily. It depends on who can stick to their battle plan better and how badly each side wants to win. Your people are fighting on their own territory, for their homes, and their very lives. It will drive them harder. That will make a difference,” Dain said. He tousled her hair, but Sera saw the darkness lingering in his eyes.

  Sera wished she had as much confidence as he did. His knowledge of warfare surprised her. She believed he had been a simple soldier in his homeland, but he demonstrated the judgment and sound planning of an experienced commander. Just days ago, Sera had heard her father make many of the same comments in a war council with Larcet and Frexe.

  She realized then how little she actually knew of Dain. Other than Jin’s questions, he had never really spoken of his past—with her or with anyone else. She resolved to ask him more about himself tonight, when they could find some privacy and if she didn’t get distracted by his kisses.

  The guard outside opened the tent flap, admitting her father.

  “My lord,” Sera said. She bowed her head to him.

  “Please dear, no formality in here,” Teldrain said. “You either, Dain.”

  The king took a seat at the table. His shoulders sagged and he slouched down in the chair. Removing his riding gloves, he tossed them atop the pile of scouting reports. A handful of sheets scattered and floated to the ground. He ignored them, then rubbed at the bags beneath his eyes and frowned at the map on the floor as if it were a coiled viper. Sera couldn’t recall ever seeing him so tired, not even when he’d been recovering from his injuries. Her father had always seemed so strong.

  “It isn’t good, champion,” he remarked to Dain. He gestured to the map below. “You can see how outnumbered we are.”

  “There is still hope. And each day buys your people more time to evacuate,” Dain replied.

  “Dain says we can win if we stick to our plan better than the enemy, sir,” Jin said, sounding every bit the little soldier. Pride and pain warred inside Sera’s chest.

  “Let us hope he is correct, little one,” Teldrain said. “The odds are stacked heavily against us and the enemy has some significant advantages.”

  “Did the messengers get through?” Dain asked.

  “Yes, our shapeshifters confirmed it,” Teldrain said.

  The king stared at the map as minutes ticked by, then rose silently and stepped next to the paladin. Without looking, he reached over and tousled Jin’s hair exactly as Dain had.

  “We have placed some fortifications here to make it more costly for them to hit us, as you and I discussed. With the canyon on one side and the dense forest on the other, they won’t be able to flank us to take full advantage of their numbers,” Teldrain said. He paused for a moment, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

  “Where are my manners?” he exclaimed at last. “I haven’t asked where you three have been. Larcet said you were heading toward the swamp to try and draw the Golden away when last he saw you, Dain,” The king turned from Dain to Sera. “Dark visions haunted Selasa last night, Sera, and she went to visit your room but no one was there. She’s been worried sick over all three of you since then.”

  Before anyone could answer, the guard held open the flap again. Jace stepped inside. He looked at Sera and a small smirk spread over his face. The king stood blocking Dain from his sight, but as Jace turned, he saw him squatting down at his father’s side. A snarl of rage replaced the smirk and he reached for his sword.

  Teldrain stepped nearer to Jace and clamped down over his son’s hand, holding him in place with a stare as much as his grip. Jace turned the venomous look on his father then glanced away swiftly. He pulled free from the king and stormed out without speaking.

  “Now, what’s this about?” Teldrain asked, concern and confusion playing across his weathered face.

  “Nothing, just a misunderstanding, I’m sure,” Dain said quickly.

  “No…it wasn’t nothing, and it was not a misunderstanding,” Sera said. “There will be no lies today to protect anyone. Jace tried to kill Dain, father. He and his friends ambushed him at the swamp’s edge. He very nearly died. Would have died, if not for Jin and I. And we very likely would have died in the swamp they left him in if it were not for Dain as well.”

  “I see,” her father said, glancing at the entrance to the tent through which his son had so recen
tly passed. He bowed his head in thought for a moment before speaking again.

  “Jace has always been a jealous child. I’m afraid he’s now turned that jealousy on you, Dain. But, other than making sure the two of you are kept apart, there is little I can do.”

  “Can do or will do?” Sera asked. Her father had protected Jace long enough.

  “Both, daughter. He is my son and heir to this kingdom or whatever will be left of it,” Teldrain said, a hint of steel edging into his tone.

  “If you won’t take care of Jace then I will,” Sera spat. She stormed out into the night before her father could stop her. She was sick of her brother’s actions and his resentment. The dishonor brought on their house shamed her and, if no one intervened, it could only escalate further. They would be no better than the Golden, and that she could never accept. She half expected Dain or her father to follow her, but she heard no footsteps but her own as she sped from the tent, every nerve alive with rage.

  She found Jace in a group with his friends a short ways away. They were whispering among each other, and did not see her approach. She walked up and punched him square in the mouth. The force of the blow caught him off guard, and he fell back, landing in a cloud of dirt.

  “Bitch,” he cursed, lunging to his feet.

  She had no intention of letting him up, and met him with a solid kick to the face. Her brother’s head snapped back violently. He fell back to the ground. She followed up with two more kicks into his ribs, but Jace grabbed her ankle before she could land a third and yanked her down with him. She fell near him and he slapped her in the face. Both siblings rolled apart and climbed to their feet.

  Once upright, Jace drew his dagger. He waved the foot-long weapon before him, taunting. Without stopping to think, Sera willed her power into the earth and forced thick vines to sprout up around him. Her brother slashed furiously, avoiding the first few, but was soon overcome. The vines wrapped tight, constricting his arms against his sides and causing him to drop the dagger. They wrapped around his body, their smothering embrace cocooned Jace and left only his face exposed. Sera commanded them to sprout thorns, and thousands of inch-long spikes emerged, ripping into the restrained elf’s soft flesh.