The High King: A Tale of Alus

by Wigboldy, Donald

  After an hour's chase the klereons had abandoned their charge. The Vengeance and Death Stalker caught up to the merchant soon after but ignored the vessel. The others in the pack would catch her shortly anyway. By early afternoon, the Death Stalker passed the nearer klereon while the Vengeance with Gerid in charge easily paced her. Two of the klereons were closing quickly using oars as well as their sails. It was an experiment that he had decided to try only after buying a dozen oars for each ship in Tristan. Outfitting the ships had been easy enough and judging by their pace, he was willing to admit the experiment appeared reasonably successful.

  By the end of the day, all three ships had surrendered and been incorporated into the fleet. Distributing the klostens among his other ships in their chains to avoid possible hostile actions from the new slaves, the fleet was on its way and wealthier by a baron's ransom in jewels, a large cargo of furniture and pottery and potential sale of all the slaves.

  It was their last delay on the return to Camerton. Their return was actually cheered by hundreds of people from the city and docks. A fleet of fifteen ships was truly unheard of pretty much anywhere. Normally that many ships would have been broken up into much smaller groups of perhaps five or six at most. He would do as much later, but for now, fifteen powerful vessels flying the flag of Rhearden, and a smaller silver flag marking his ownership, took the city's breath away.

  After docking, Gerid had gathered his brother and Leoltus with Finneas and James still in tow and proceeded to the castle of King Colona. He had been lucky enough to arrive at mid-afternoon, and knowing that it was still early enough in the day, the commander could still get an audience with the king. He wanted it all done right away so that he could spend a few

  uninterrupted days with Catiya and his son.

  The guards were quick to allow him entry. They had heard of the ships newly returned to the harbor already as well. Everyone knew of his reputation as a privateer. Everyone had seen him leave with his nine ships only a little over a month ago. His luck had netted him a powerful malas and five others to nearly double his fleet again.

  There were days where Gerid wondered just which god had decided to favor him in his endeavors. One moment he had been cursed to slavery and now including his merchant fleet, he controlled more than twenty ships.

  The final door barring him entry brought him back to the job at hand. He faced one of the clerks standing before the door flanked by four guards. "I bring word from King Tadmin of Tseult. Will the king see me now?"

  The man nodded, "Shortly. He knows that you have returned." The man half smiled, an expression virtually unheard of in his position. "Of course, I don't think there is anyone in the city that doesn't know of your return."

  That was the last he said. Just standing there waiting, Simon and Leoltus began asking questions of how his trip had gone. They wanted to know about both battles and the troubles at Tristan.

  Gerid was far from finished and the guards and clerk had been drawn into his tale as well, when a knock from within signaled that the door was about to open. A richly dressed man waited for the men in front of him to move before bowing slightly and exiting the room. The man's dark skin marked him as probably a foreign emissary from an unknown country, a position that Gerid could appreciate after his journey.

  The clerk ducked inside a moment before returning to nod to Gerid. "He'll see you now. I wish I could have heard more of your trip," he added the second part quietly, but the guards nodded minimally that they too enjoyed the story.

  Gerid smirked and said, "I'll have to write a book someday. If we could just discover a way to make them quickly and cheaply, I probably would."

  The commander entered followed by his four men. It took him a moment as he walked forward to find the king himself. His throne was empty. Looking to either side of the room, the commander caught the silhouette of a figure beside one window facing the harbor. Despite the shadows cast from the man blocking the light, Gerid knew that it was Colona.

  The king turned and looked at the giant. "Is that a pirate killer I see out in my harbor?"

  "Yes, my liege," he answered with a nod though the king had turned to look outside again. "The fifth fleet of Kloste is now just a passing dream."

  The king turned away from the window and moved towards his throne. "I seem to recall Kloste having seven fleets before you left, commander. I am sure they'll rename the others accordingly."

  "As you say, my liege."

  The king looked up in surprise. "You sound almost like a diplomat today. Has your trip to Tseult given you that skill now as well? If so, I fear for my throne."

  Colona was mocking, but Gerid wondered if he wasn't just a little bit afraid as well. As Finneas had stated almost four weeks before, a commander of so many ships holds power that most lords only wished they could have. He had added three more vessels since then even.

  "You have nothing to fear from me, my liege. I have no longing for your position. You are a king. I am not."

  The king looked at the giant from his perch atop his throne. He considered Gerid's words too long for his taste. Was the king more worried over his loyalty than he believed? The commander hadn't lied. He had no wish to be king. All he wanted was the death of Merrick and a quiet life afterwards.

  Finally Colona spoke, "How did your visit to Tristan go? I hope that you didn't get into any trouble. Tadmin seems to have a way of causing havoc for my messengers."

  "I found enough trouble there, but it went well enough even so. I think that KingTadmin liked me, or at least respected me by the time I had left. He gave me this message for you." Gerid held up the scroll.

  The king gestured for one of his aides to pick up the scroll and bring it to him. Cracking open the seal, Colona took a moment to read the document and nodded. "Yes, he does like and respect you. He went so far as to mention that you fought his son in the arena. High praise indeed, since I have never heard of any outsider being allowed to fight him before you." He paused and lifted the scroll towards Gerid and added, "He agreed to the proposed alliance to attack Kloste together, by the way."

  "I am glad that I could help."

  The king nodded. The man sat back and appraised Gerid once again. He lay the scroll aside and brought both hands together and steepled them before his face. Leaning his chin onto his fingers, the king seemed lost in deep thought.

  Gerid was beginning to think that the audience had ended when the king's voice interrupted the silence. "I suppose that I would normally knight a man for such a service to me. Your patron, Carter, was nearly knighted once, but his brother does all the real acts of heroism. I couldn't see making a man that was more merchant than soldier, a knight."

  The king paused.

  A sound of a door opening was heard from the direction of the throne. From behind the curtains covering the wall behind Colona, a flutter announced the entrance of a woman. She appeared much younger than King Colona, though no less regal in bearing.

  Wearing a velvet dress dyed a royal purple so dark that it neared black, with golden trimmings and jewelry set with amethysts, dark tresses pulled up in stunning fashion, she could be no less than a queen or perhaps a princess. The petite woman took a seat in one of the lower thrones beside Colona.

  "My daughter Allisand," the king stated simply. After a pause, he continued, "Her mother and I discussed what we could do if our greatest privateer succeeded in his tasks. Knighthood, a lordship, declare you an admiral? You are already the admiral of your own fleet and, as you are continually at sea, the lands of a baron would go wasted."

  The king stood again and started to pace, "I could offer gold and silver or jewels, but your tithe to me makes me blush with the guess of your own wealth. Should I give you more ships? Your fleet nears the size of my entire fleet already. So what is it I can give to you as a reward?" He looked at Gerid and seemed to truly be at a loss. "My daughter?" he gestured melodramatically to the young woman. The princess stared up in surprise at her father. Glancing at Gerid, the girl p
aled and looked about to swoon from shock.

  "I ask for nothing, my liege," Gerid stated trying to end the king's worries.

  The king's look at him was nearly a glare. "Would that it were that simple, boy," he nearly hissed between clenched teeth. "Even before you left, I had heard that the people were looking at the mighty commander as a hero. They seem to want me to do something to reward you."

  Gerid was genuinely confused. He had met hundreds of men in the army and led thousands at sea, but such hero worship seemed strange. The people of the city had never made any unusual attempts to tell or show him such a feeling existed in all the days he had ever been through their streets. Gerid wondered if the king were fearing his power and imagining that treachery lurked in him because of it.

  He took another look at the king. The man seemed feverish. Sweat beaded upon his brow though the air was almost cool for late spring in Rhearden. The more the commander looked at the king, the more he feared that the man was unwell. He wondered if the sickness was physical or possibly mental. Gerid had heard of men going mad with pressure and other stresses.

  "Father," the princess spoke quietly. A voice like a summer breeze, she reached out to the man. "Father, you and mother had an answer for him."

  King Colona's head whipped around as if surprised and unsure where the voice had come from. Gerid feared madness. The king suddenly nodded. He wiped the sweat from his brow. "Yes, thank you, Allisand. I had almost forgot." The king looked at Gerid as if he had just appeared from a mist before him. "Gerid, my boy, step forward if you would."

  As Gerid walked slowly forward, his eyes met those of the princess. The brief contact told him enough of her troubled days of late. He also watched as the king gestured to a soldier bearing a pillow upon which rested a gleaming silver blade. The hilt looked to be made of gold. For all its finery, Gerid figured it to be a strong blade.

  "Kneel that I might knight you." Gerid did as he was asked. The king moved the blade from one shoulder to another and declared, "Gerid Aramathea, I now pronounce you knight of the realm of Rhearden. I also give to you the honorary title of Admiral. As an admiral of your own fleet, you have the right of being one of my military advisors. A suite will also be set aside that you may stay here whenever you wish it." He turned to the princess and asked suddenly sweating again. "Did I forget anything, dear?"

  "Ask that we be left alone with the admiral, father," the girl requested with that still soft voice of the cooling winds of summer.

  "Admiral?" the king started to look about confused. "Which one again?"

  The princess rose from her throne and gestured to the three aides near the throne. There were several guards lining the walls and she motioned them away as well. They looked unwilling to leave until the girl gestured again impatiently. "You too, Chancellor Naewen. Admiral, could you have your men leave as well, please."

  Gerid nodded, but held Simon's sleeve before he could join the exodus. "This is my older brother, princess. I would like him to stay as well. He is my closest advisor, since he is family. My brother can be trusted, I swear on my life."

  The princess nodded as she took hold of her father's elbow and led him back towards his throne. The king looked at the girl as if he didn't know her now. Sweat drenched the man's face in a torrent. Stains were forming through the satin garments he wore as well.

  When the hall was clear of all but the four, the princess gestured for Gerid to come closer. Simon followed quietly.

  "When did it happen?" Gerid asked.

  The princess didn't bat an eye at his bluntness. "A couple of weeks ago my father started to act strangely. It was seldom and almost seemed to be a joke. He even said that it was to cover his weakness. Another week later and there was no denying that something had come over my father.

  "We called upon physicians and wizards alike. The doctors couldn't diagnose any illness and couldn't have told us if it was a matter of the mind anyway. It took a team of three wizards to find that some sort of magic had been worked upon him. They still haven't figured out just what happened, but they do know that unless there is a cure soon, it will mean permanent madness or death."

  "What can I do? Has the queen been affected similarly?"

  The woman shook her head. "She still seems fine, but we had to remove her to safety to ensure her health, just in case."

  "So you were left to hold things together and to be sacrificed if the attack was aimed elsewhere."

  Allisand nodded. Tears suddenly formed in her eyes. "He just keeps getting worse. When you returned, I hoped that maybe I could call upon your luck to help him. It's a foolish wish, I know. Even if you cannot help him, I wanted to have him knight you."

  "To earn my loyalty?"

  "And your protection should the need arise. We believe that it is Kloste, of course, but who knows. Rhearden is a powerful nation with many enemies. Who knows how many of them lie within our boundaries even?"

  Gerid nodded. "Have him get some rest, princess. I'll return tomorrow afternoon. I'll stay the night if that suite can be readied by then?"

  The girl sniffed. "It is already prepared. If you take this charge, you know that it means others may target you as well. You are aligned with my house as soon as you show yourself here."

  "Then have the guards ready to open the doors for next time," he nodded confidently. "I don't know how much I can do for you, but if my presence helps..."

  "That is all that I can ask, Sir Gerid."

  Chapter 33- Into New Territory

  The distant clangs of swords and the cries of wounded or dying men came from over the rise. The three men in black cloaks could have seen two of the warring armies below their hilly forested climb, if they had so desired. The leader looked back to the two men following to make sure that both men still followed low below the rise. The three were moving past the border of Maris in the hopes of finding one of the leaders of the western forces. The idea of seeing the battle only to give away their position was totally against the cloaked man's best judgment.

  Looking to the steadily darkening sky, Terris scratched absentmindedly at his full beard. He felt that they had been lucky to make it as far as they had in the light of day. Several times he feared that a stray gargoyle scout would fly in their direction before they could make it into the cover of the next hill.

  A horse patrol had caught enough of their movement to come closer, but, with the luck of a shallow cavern and a clump of bushes, the soldiers had given up quickly. One of the riders had nearly trod upon the very bush concealing their hole, but the men seemed unconcerned about the possibility of a single stray. What was one man when there were stone warriors and dragons to fear?

  Bringing out a small spy glass, the former king crawled up the hill on his belly making sure to never bring his body to its peak. The next rise was nearly a half mile from them to the west and very few trees or bushes were in between for cover. Not even long grasses were of help, the darkened ground covered in the charred remains of grass and trees both proved that a fire had already taken root and destroyed nearly a mile of land to the south and north before stopping its destructive path. Whether it was rain or the local farmers banding together to stop it or the luck of a favorable wind halting its charge, Terris neither knew nor cared.

  Tipping the glass over the crest of the hill while keeping a cloth as a hood over the glass to prevent reflection, Terris scanned the land to the south of them. A battle of lesser proportion was being fought there. Maybe a full battalion of foot and horsemen were involved from each side. Still numbering at least a thousand men all told, the death toll still was quite staggering.

  The two forces had met in the wide valley between a nearly complete circle of hills. The fighting was beginning to break up as the two sides had found themselves too evenly matched for either side to survive. Terris could see no gargoyles in the air or on the ground. If they had been there, Merrick's men would have probably won, since there were none of the stone soldiers on Maris' side either.

  H
e was about to start down the slope again when a hand tapped the heel of his boot. Terris looked down to see Lucas pointing towards their next goal. With his naked eyes, he scanned the far off hill. A glint of glass or steel glimmered in a pattern. A message, he thought quickly.

  Scooting back down the slope, he spoke to the other man in their triad, "A message from Maris, Climon?"

  The third man nodded. Even with his grey beard and the scar across his cheek, anyone could recognize the resemblance of the uncle to Lucas. "Yes, Lord Terris, I've already decoded the message and returned a quick hello back."

  "Who are they? Did you give away who we are?" The older man smiled slightly, "The answers are I don't know and no I didn't, respectively. They're being as secretive as we are. I think that they must be Maris.

  Merrick's soldiers would have stormed towards us, while these appear just as much in need of remaining quiet as we."

  Terris frowned. He trusted the former captain's judgment enough, but he hated surprises on a mission as sensitive as this. Terris hated them almost all the time, he had to repeat the truth to himself. Climon was most likely correct though. Merrick's army used little in the way of subtlety most days. There was always room for it even in the most dense of men, so he asked, "Tell them we'll meet them there in an hour."

  The grey beard gave him a curious glance from beneath his hood that the former king caught easily. Despite his unspoken reservations, Climon picked up his mirror and sent the message. Terris bit his thumbnail worriedly as they waited for the grey light of near dusk to envelope the valley before them. He hoped that these people were who he hoped they were. If they were actually some of Maris' soldiers, he might be able to get help and offer some to the kings of Sileoth and Maris.

  When half an hour had past, Terris edged to the crest of the hill again. The fighting had stopped in the southern valley. Checking the hills and valleys nearest them, he found little in the way of movement. Campfires nearly half a mile to the east told him where the remnants of Merrick's army had moved to camp. An orange haze of light from behind one of the western hills maybe half a mile to the south identified where most of the Maris contingent was encamped as well. There were still torches moving about the former battlefield even now. They told the tale that there were still survivors needing help back to their respective sides of the conflict.