The High King: A Tale of Alus

by Wigboldy, Donald

  "I do have a significant loss, however. Sergeant Palus was killed defending the north tower and he'll be hard to replace. He was a truly good leader and an excellent soldier in all ways. Beyond the twenty-five dead, only forty or so were wounded to the point that they should rest in camp more than a few days and attend to their wounds. I don't think that it would be wise to have them fight for at least a week in most cases. The rest at their own homes is definitely something that they all can use. The march back will be hard for some of them, but I think everyone can make it. The patrols can be run by myself and the others."

  "That leaves you only about fifty men active. Correct?" At Gerid's nod, he continued, "Let them rest at camp as you suggested. You are sure that you can run the patrols with only two sergeants? All right, then I expect you to attend to preparations and return here tonight." He winked a sly look, before whispering quietly, "We can celebrate our victory and your new godhood, if that is all right with you?"

  Gerid grinned and gave a crisp salute though he was still seated. "Sir!" the lieutenant snapped with extra gusto. The pain of renewing lungs made him wince a bit before rising. "Until tonight then, commander."

  With Finneas a single step behind him like a shadow, Gerid left Kolonus to continue as he always had.

  He missed the commander's eyes filling with questions that they had no answers to as yet, but those could wait. There would be time later to find the answers, after all, Gerid wouldn't die before they could discuss them.

  Lord Merrick strode through the intricately decorated, though solid, wooden doors into a high vaulted throne room. Tapestries and paintings were abundant in the brightly lit room. The pictures celebrated hundreds of years of Cadmene history, but as the king walked he remained unimpressed by the artwork of the fortress city known as Knaria, the fortress of King Terris. He was a warrior and conqueror not an artist.

  As he entered the central audience chamber and seat of power for the kingdom, the Cadmene king arose from his throne, with his wife echoing his movements, to endure Merrick's disdain with true knightly bearing. His two children, Prince Relnar and Princess Alyanna, moved from their places at each side of the dais, upon which the seats of power rested, to join the sides of their parents. The royal family waited until Merrick paused only a few paces in front of them before dropping all together to their knees.

  "My lord, the people of Cadmene kneel to your authority," Terris announced formally from his knees before Merrick. The other nobles gathered in the hall sank to their knees slowly at the declaration all around the conqueror and his men. The men and women were all silent. Merrick guessed rightly that these nobles still failed to grasp that they had finally met their match and lost their freedom.

  A pair of gargoyles, Kar'esh and his lieutenant, stood just behind him and to either side of the conqueror as he smiled a cold smile on all of them. Their presence was obvious in its intent. There were many former knights mixed in with the nobility of Cadmene and he had taken precautions against any treachery. Terris was known as a schemer as much as a warrior and the vizier's warnings were well founded. The former king was still a tactical genius and, knowing that he could not hope to defeat the sheer power that was arrayed against him, Terris had done what was noble. He had surrendered so that no more needed to die uselessly.

  Merrick could barely grasp such a thing. If it were him, this would be a move used to even the playing field. He considered the fact that his victory had been assured, but still the High King feared treachery.

  The battle in the valley before the castle had proved that his army would not be defeated by the knights despite their valiant efforts in the field. The human forces of Cadmene had come up against the supernatural abilities of the gargoyles and more than half a dozen of the beasts known as the Ch'ther, though Merrick's men had taken to calling the enormous creatures, dragons, after the monsters of legend. With a reptilian appearance on a stunning scale, the lord found that he could believe that the legends may have some validity. Their hides were covered in glittering gold and silver scales nearly two inches thick on the main torso leading into smaller ones along their long, spiked tails and long, serpentine necks. Though the dragons were built low to the ground, their powerful, clawed legs were still flexible and long enough to lash to either side to tear at unsuspecting victims. It was even said that in one battle, the largest golden dragon had been able spit fire as it had reared upward to tower nearly twenty feet above the ground. Merrick hadn't witnessed the supposed event and remained unconvinced. Whether it had not just been a trick of the light mixed with the fear that the beasts seemed able to generate in men, he was not sure. Either way, the results of the final battle had left much of their infantry wounded or dead and much of their horsemen had been scattered when their mounts had spied the huge beasts. Those that had not fled soon wished they had as both horses and men were torn to pieces. Some were said to have been swallowed whole to suffer the much slower death of digestion.

  With much of his armies scattered or destroyed, King Terris had sent his adversary a messenger with a proposal that he hoped would benefit them both and spare lives. Knowing that High King Merrick (as he was often called now) would be planning ahead to future conquests, the king had suggested that, rather than suffer anymore losses for no reason given the end was known, he would be willing to surrender his throne to the Marshallan and serve as one of his generals. To further sweeten the proposal, Merrick would marry his daughter, Alyanna. The princess's beauty was well known beyond Cadmene, even to Marshalla's ruler, and, though he was unsure at first, yet at the sight of the young woman, he knew the rumors of her had not even done her justice. Such a trophy would be quite enjoyable to take. With her long blond hair, full lips and a figure that few women could hope to match in its graceful lines, Alyanna was indeed stunning.

  "So this is to be my bride, Terris?" he asked eyeing the woman only a moment before facing his newest general coolly.

  "Yes, my lord, this is my daughter, Alyanna. If she meets your approval, the chapel lies beyond those doors where a judge of your land waits to do the joining."

  Merrick stepped to the princess cupping his hand beneath the soft curve of the woman's chin and forced her to look at him, her eyes had dutifully been cast on the floor while the men had spoken of her. Startling dark, purple eyes flashed unflinchingly at him from beneath her dark lashes. With skin like fine porcelain and every feature flawless, the conqueror was forced to smile again even as he witnessed a glint of fire in her eyes. She would do, Merrick thought, and the fun of taming her would last a long time.

  He offered a hand to the young woman to help her from the floor. Alyanna's hand trembled in his and the High King smiled to himself. Turning to the fallen king, he gestured towards the chapel doors, "Lead on, General Terris. As your first official act as my vassal, it is your duty to give away the bride and make her a queen."

  A queen in title only, he knew, but that would be made known later. Terris, though his dark hair and beard were as noble as his clothing, seemed bowed under a great weight before his new master. Merrick's words had caused the slightest of winces the conqueror had noticed, though he doubted that anyone else had been able to see the look as well. He wondered how long it would be before Terris would tire of his servitude and would need to be tended to in the way that all Merrick's enemies eventually would know.

  Merrick moved his mind back to the task at hand. The following room had been decorated with bright flowers and silk banners of white and blue. Candles lit the chapel brightly from their many holders. Hundreds of little tongues of fire blazed around them and Merrick smiled again.

  As they entered the chamber, the Cadmene nobility gave a small cheer though it sounded drained and weak. Their voices were hardly missed as the generals and several of Merrick's elite officers cheered on their High King. The man cared little about the enthusiasm they feigned. These people were less than nothing to him. Even now, there already were plans being hatched to thin out the royal lines of Cadmene. Thos
e that seemed most troublesome would, of course, find out the penalty for defying the High King. Such a plan had already taken its toll on the houses of Caldor.

  As he thought upon his next moves, the vows were spoken and the reception feast was given to honor the new couple. It was well under way when Merrick's attention returned to his new queen. He could sense her apprehension from his side and finally, when the conqueror felt that they had given enough time to those who had come to witness the ceremony, Merrick gave a grand speech. Thanking everyone and speaking of a prosperous future for all, the High King swept up his new bride and whisked her off to their wedding chamber. It was not the need for the woman so much as his patience wearing thin with being gracious that drove him to such a grand display, but those assembled could not know that.

  Arriving at their spacious rooms, handmaidens and groomsmen separated the two long enough to dress the couple in the symbolic robes of marriage. Alyanna's maids had also made sure to primp and preen the woman to make her as startlingly beautiful for her husband as they could imagine possible. Thus armored for her wedding night with new makeup and glistening hair flowing in spectacular curling flows, Merrick witnessed the most magnificent woman to ever meet his eyes. Strong desires caused the king to send the helpers quickly from their quarters as he looked over his new bride with ravenous eyes.

  Alyanna stood near the door in her white robe from which she had entered. The woman wouldn't raise her eyes to look at her new husband. She stood silently as his eyes burned into her skin. A smile of ice offered sharp contrast to Merrick’s burning stare.

  "Is this any way to greet your new husband, woman?" the High King asked quietly, the smile never slipping. "Your father has given you to me. Whether you or he had a true choice in the matter is hardly much of a point, though I did not propose this union, if you recall."

  Silence followed his remark and still Alyanna would not raise her eyes to look at him. Sounds of someone passing outside in the castle hallway could be heard faintly from the outside. As the noise faded away, Merrick felt his anger growing. His patience was thin at the best of times and this refusal of him by this woman was swiftly removing his restraining bonds of civility. He was used to getting his own way and the fire that the man had seen as an exciting challenge earlier was now just an annoyance.

  His temper finally took control of him. In his burgeoning fury, the king in his black ceremonial robe stomped over to the woman threateningly and still she refused to look at the man. Grabbing hold of both her arms, Merrick pulled her forward roughly. "Look at me," he ordered, but Alyanna turned her face away from him to look vaguely in the direction of the bed. Gritting his teeth, the king shifted his grip and pulled the woman towards the bed. He pushed and held on tight to the beautiful white robe traced with golden thread flowers. With a loud tearing sound that split the silence, he tore the silk garment to shreds tossing the woman's naked form against the base of the bed. She straightened upright, her body trembling fearfully even as his hands moved to grope the lush flesh before him.

  "Perhaps you've yet to figure out your role in this world, woman!" Merrick snarled as he tore his own robe away as well. Even as the garment drifted lazily away, the lord took hold of her again shoving her down onto the cold stone of the chamber's floor. The slap of her soft skin against the grey rock and the small grunt of pain, served only to drive him maddeningly onward to fulfill his need. Pulling on her hair with one hand and using the other to force her back onto the stone, he forced apart her slender legs with his own and finished by ramming himself inside her repeatedly. Alyanna made scarcely a sound as his first penetration burned through her flesh. Clenching her fists so hard that the nails began to draw blood, the woman fought back the tears that threatened to seep from her eyes.

  Merrick snarled angrily as he methodically slammed himself into her, but lowered his voice to a whisper hissing like a serpent, "This is all you are to me, Alyanna. You are a vessel used to bear my children. You are a queen in name, but you have no power for I am the high king, the conqueror of the north. Your obedience will be given or I'll take what I want from you the hard way. It matters little to me. Trust me when I say that I'll enjoy your body either way. I have known women to be both giving and reluctant to give. They are all the same I assure you."

  Grabbing hold of her breasts so hard that Alyanna feared that she would not be able to keep from crying, the young woman felt his teeth bite deep into her left breast. The maddened king drew blood but still he clenched his jaws into her flesh. The juices seeped into his mouth and he drank the iron knowing her taste before he finally drew back with the crimson trickling from his lips to survey his work. Merrick grinned evilly as he watched the blood slowly finding its way out of the wound in small rivers into the valley between the two soft hills of flesh.

  Tears fought their way through her defenses. Alyanna's eyes were violet pools feeding streams which rolled down her cheeks. Her lower lip trembled as she fought back well deserved sobs which were kept to quick choking breaths of pain. Merrick looked down and laughed. Teeth glaring bloodily down upon the bleary eyed woman, Merrick knew that he was winning. It was a war of wills and the conqueror continued to mercilessly drive himself between her thighs.

  Her right hand grasped at the floor and found a strip of cloth to clench between her fingers. Making a fist with it, the hand started to raise up to defend Alyanna, but the knowledge that her life had been lost to this evil creature raping her, it fell back weakly to her side where it trembled spent. Alyanna gave in and cried aloud at her sorry fate. Her screams echoing within the chamber found no audience but Merrick, who simply laughed as he continued to beat down his defeated enemy.

  Finishing with his bride finally, Merrick pulled himself away tiredly to leave the woman sobbing in her own blood. He turned to smile at her pity fullness. "Your virginity is mine as is the rest of you. You can play the part of my queen, Alyanna, but always remember who the master is here. After all, you are but a queen while I am the High King of the North.

  "Now clean yourself up. I don't want blood staining the sheets." Merrick turned away from her and left to wash himself in the groom's private bath. When he returned, Alyanna remained where he had left her still sobbing.

  Again anger filled him, he knelt and lifted the slim, young woman and carried her to the washroom. Finding a bath tub filled with water, Merrick dropped her uncaringly into it. Alyanna cried out at its coldness, a further insult to her body, but her husband had already closed the door and left.

  Chapter 20- Home Front

  The time seemed to drag on and on for Gerid over the week following the freeing of Brahe. After the initial freeing of the southern fortress, he and his mercenaries were first required to run patrols further south all the way to the original border separating the two countries. Minor skirmishes were dealt with and reported to the commanders who could do little more than send the occasional reinforcements as they worked to solidify the defenses over a hundred miles of territory.

  There was little to do about the small bands of soldiers still trying to escape back to their own border. Most of the run-ins between the rival troops ended quickly and nearly bloodlessly as the Rhearden forces simply allowed the men to continue on their way. They didn't need to waste their time on a retreating enemy especially when they were retreating to where the generals wished. So soon Gerid and his men found themselves patrolling for no reason as the enemy finished their flight for home after the fight had gone out of them.

  It was at that time that Kolonus finally released the unit under Gerid's command. It took another six days to pack up and return the hundreds of miles to what he now referred to as home, the Holtein homestead. His steps seemed to lighten as the lieutenant led the men over the last rise and found the mansion in the distance beckoning to him. He knew that Tabitha was there and the thought of touching her and being with her once more brightened his face with happiness.

  With only a little more than a score of men left to follow him the last mile
s after having dismissed the free men among them along the way, Gerid drew the soldiers onward to what he hoped would be an enjoyable leave. No more battles would be fought for awhile, and he planned to enjoy the peace of simply working on the farm.

  Allowing Rastei and the others, who had begun their trip to war from here, to show Finneas and his followers the way to the barracks, Gerid made his way towards the main house. Gerid knew that, as lieutenant and leader of the command, it fell to him to report to Carter or his son of their return and to deliver letters from Kolonus with his plans for finishing out the season of battle. The trip might also allow him to see his wife, he hoped. Memories of her had kept him going through the summer and, even though he seemed to be undying, the great time away could never be replaced and the young man wanted every chance to be with her again.

  "Gerid!" a much deeper though equally familiar voice called out from behind him. Leoltus, who had been leading a group in caring for the lawn and trees around the house, came striding over to greet him with a grin stretching across his face. With a firm hand shake that pulled him into a quick fatherly hug, the older man spoke again, "It's been too long, my friend. Through all these months there hasn't been a night where I haven't prayed to the gods to return you safe and sound, so finally here you are." The older man stepped back and gave him an appraising eye. "If my eyes don't deceive me, I think that they have done their job of caring for you remarkably well. I'd swear that you look even stronger and healthier than before you left. Perhaps you are one of those rare warriors that simply feed off the war and never falter."