The High King: A Tale of Alus

by Wigboldy, Donald

  Unfortunately, Gerid really had been given quite a lot to replace that which he had lost. Not wanting to alienate his only friend on this isle, he said quickly, "I fought as a mercenary long enough to buy back my freedom. Then I turned to privateering and have done well enough."

  Janus gave him a penetrating look and shook his head so slightly that the other almost missed it. Most people would have missed that look of doubt or perhaps it was slight mistrust, but, even after almost three years of separation, Gerid knew his friend's thoughts. Janus didn't bother to question further, but did ask, "What are you doing here? Or maybe I should ask what you will do now that you have been wrecked here?"

  Gerid shrugged, "I'll do what I came here to do."

  Both eyebrows lifted in surprise, "So you did come here on purpose. Do you expect to fight the entire island by yourself? I am your friend, even after all this time, but I won't throw my life away so foolishly."

  It was Gerid's turn to smile. "I didn't come here to fight. I came to make the pirates a deal."

  Janus shook his head incredulously once again and sat upon a piece of driftwood. The bag squirmed beside him, but the pirate ignored his catch. It could wait. Finally he stated, "Tell me what this deal is and I will tell you if they would listen long enough not to kill you."

  Gerid sat himself more comfortably on the sand and began to outline what he had in mind.

  A small smile began to grow on the pirate's face and he started to nod as the giant outlined his ambitious plan. "It could work, I think. Yes, I think that it could."

  Simon held his pack over the left shoulder as he walked a street he hadn't used in almost three years. The sounds of seabirds and the tolling of bells in the harbor brought him back to the day he and his brother had last been to the seaport of Alistaire. They had been fleeing for their lives to start a new business and renew their lives to the north. Little had they known that the ship known as the Patar would instead deliver them into slavery.

  Slavery hadn't been the worst to happen to the crew and passengers of the small merchant vessel. It was that point that drew him to the building bearing the sign of an anchor. The office had changed little since he had seen it last. The white wash looked more faded perhaps as did the blue lettering of the sign below the anchor, but the business still seemed to be in full operation.

  Pushing on the door, caused the small bell to ring as it had on the last day he had come here. The sound also served to bring the old man's eyes up from his ledgers sitting atop his desk. With a gasp of surprise and shock the old man jumped to his feet. "Simon? How did you...? Where...?" the man couldn't get his thoughts through his mouth quickly enough to finish any of his questions.

  Simon smiled contentedly. "Hello, Cardy, it's good to see you again."

  The old man had tears in his eyes as his chest filled with emotions that were hard to express. "I never thought that I would see you or any of the others again. It's been nearly three years, Simon. What happened to you all?"

  Gesturing to one of the chairs that sat before the business desk for clients, Simon asked, "It's a long story, may I?"

  The old man rushed around the desk to lock the door. Flipping his closed sign to face the outside, Cardy took Simon by the elbow and led him through the back door into his home. "Can you stay long, or are you still on the run, my young friend?"

  Allowing himself to be led up a flight of stairs to the kitchen, Simon spied the old man's wife, Martine, who nearly dropped a pan still holding the loaf of bread she had just taken from the oven.

  "I didn't mean to shock the two of you so," Simon apologized as the woman managed to catch the pan and place it carefully atop a cutting board so as not to burn the counter.

  "Nonsense, Simon," Cardy waved away the apology and his wife nodded. "We have never seen the Patar or any of its crew since it set sail on that last voyage. We could only assume the worst. Seeing you means that it must have been pirates, I suppose?"

  Simon nodded. "Yes, slavers in fact. We tried to run. Your son-in-law tried his best to escape them, but they were too well organized. The first ship herded us towards more. We never had a chance."

  "So you were all sold into slavery? Where? Perhaps I can free poor Dernick from whatever shackles bind him there."

  Shaking his head sadly, Simon answered, "They killed him, sir. I am sorry."

  A low moan came from his wife. Cardy moved to wrap an arm around the woman to comfort her, "There, there, Martine, I am sad to hear this news as well, but remember that it happened three years ago and we have always figured that Dernick probably died. The man was always loyal to his ship after all."

  The woman shook her head, "I do not cry for myself as much as I do poor Sofea. She'll be so hurt by knowing that Dernick is truly gone."

  Sighing, the old man tried to reassure his wife again, "The girl is strong, Martine. She has survived three years of his loss. I think that her level head will continue to see her through. She may even want to move on now that we know his true fate."

  Nodding her head, his wife left them and went to her room. The woman reappeared before the men had a chance to speak. With a shawl now wrapped across her shoulders to keep out the morning chill brought from the sea winds, Martine stated, "I will go see Sofea and let her know the truth. Please stay for the evening meal, Simon. We will not take no for an answer from a friend who has been kept from us so long." With that said, the woman turned to hurry down the stairs.

  "Well, there you go," Cardy nodded to Simon. Gesturing to the next room, which served as a living room. The two men took up a pair of plush chairs after the old man broke out a pair of goblets and a bottle of wine. Settling down and taking a swift gulp, the old friend gestured towards Simon. "Tell me what happened, boy. It will be awhile until Martine returns. She will want to know everything, of course, but I can fill her in on the highlights later."

  Simon settled in for the long telling of the past three years. From the doomed voyage to the slave yards and its block, from the time spent as a slave to his return to business with Gerid, he told it all and everything that he knew of Gerid's life as well. When he got to the point of telling of their need to send a spy to Marshalla and their hopes of taking on Merrick, Cardy finally released a sailor's curse in amazement.

  "Your audacity amazes me, lad. If I may, I almost think that the two of you may almost have gained more than you ever lost. Why don't you put away these ideas of attacking Merrick? You have no idea of the forces that he has raised as an army to take over the world."

  Simon shook his head, "You have not told me what we face yet, my friend. Please tell me. That is why I have returned at this time, despite my gladness at seeing you and your wife again."

  The old man chuckled, "Did you miss us so? You are kind to humor me with such words, but we know that is not that true. Do not get me wrong, I know that we were friends even before your father passed on, but I see in your eyes that this is business. It was that same look that you wore so many times over the years and especially the night you came seeking passage out of the country."

  Simon started to protest, but Cardy raised his hand stopping him. "We haven't all night to argue, so let me get straight to it, my friend. The High King, as Merrick calls himself now, has made a deal with demons. They call them gargoyles, but let us face the truth. Ten foot beasts that fly using their great wings and possessing the strength of dozens of men, I would call them demons, wouldn't you?"

  "I..." Simon started in confusion, but again the old man cut him off.

  "You have not seen them and neither have I, except flying in the distance. What we call them does not matter. What does matter is that less than a hundred of them were enough to force King Terris and his knights to surrender themselves to his mercy or die before them.

  "With the knights sworn to him and Terris's daughter given as his bride to seal the bargain, the man ran over Sileoth in less than a summer. Terris was one of his generals. With his mind and the armies' strength, it was no contest. If Maris' wiza
rds hadn't devised magic golems to fight against them, they would have conquered that country and the remains of Sileoth's armies fighting there long ago." The old man gave a tired smile, "Did I forget to mention that he has dragons fighting for him as well?"

  Simon puffed out his cheeks and blew out in dismay. "You paint a vividly dark picture, Cardy. Let me ask you this though, does the resistance remain in any form anymore?"

  The old man leaned closer, "Yes, I believe so. The fools continue to do what they can while Merrick is away. They don't dare to risk his wrath when the king has time to do anything about it. The queen does about as much to resist him as any from what I hear."

  "How so?"

  With a wolfish grin, he laughed, "They say that she and her maidservants run around the city naked. I am also told that the women are so beautiful and defiant in their beauty that it brings hope to everyone who sees them. It would be worth the risk to go to Hala if you are daring enough, young Aramathea."

  Simon smiled though his heart was not in it. "It sounds like the queen is a tramp to me. How can the people see her as anything but a madwoman obsessed with revealing her beauty? I would think that it honors Merrick rather than hurting him."

  Shaking his head vehemently, the elder man denied his words, "No, no, Simon, it is completely known that the queen hates her husband. When he left, she began this strange behavior. Word has it that she has contacts with the resistance now. Another rumor says that her father is the resistance's leader, but that is impossible. He was killed almost a year ago, it was said." With a discerning look, Cardy added, "I really do think that you may want to go there. Others tell me that the heart of the resistance can be found in Merrick's very own capitol."

  "Perhaps I will. I need to know more about what we are up against, before I allow Gerid to commit his fleet completely to attacking Merrick."

  Cardy looked at him in amazement. "You mean that you still plan to go through with this insanity?"

  Laughing humorlessly, Simon stated, "I probably couldn't stop Gerid from going through with it if I wanted to, but I can give him the advice to wait until we are better prepared. He has put together a fleet of more than twenty ships and he has the money to buy a dozen or more if he desires. Then there is the fact that he is an admiral of Rhearden, which may mean that he could get a loan of the king's ships in this venture if he asked. I doubt that anyone will be able to stop my brother from his need to stop Merrick."

  The old man shook his head. "Such power. I think that you boys did gain much from your losses all right."

  Simon slowly shook his head, "We lost too much when we lost our sister and friends. That is the reason that we will fight Merrick, no matter what the odds. Vengeance will not be denied. The gods seem to favor us in this endeavor, Cardy, and we will not falter."

  Chapter 38- Portal

  The two spies just stood there in the doorway looking into a portal leading to another world. As they watched, shadows began to taint the shimmering, desert scenery shown through the glowing portal. The couple tensed.

  "Something is wrong," Serra breathed timidly. "Maybe we should leave, Baitrum?"

  The soldier felt the strangeness as well, but, looking at the bodies scattered across the floor, the soldier wondered how he could feel anything but uneasy. The shadows seemed to darken a moment and then fade. "Just a minute. We came to find out what was going on here. I think that we should investigate a little further first."

  The shadows flickered again in the portal. Even as the lieutenant stepped through the broken doorway to search through the sickening miasma of blood and gore, his intuition told him to flee. Refusing to show any cowardice before this girl, the soldier let his bravado carry him deeper into the room. "It looks as if these men were torn apart like the others. I wonder if it was the gargoyles or the dragons?"

  "Does it matter?" Serra breathed from where she stood in the doorway. Her eyes never left the flickering shadows of the portal. "Can we leave please? I am afraid that more of the gargoyles will show up any moment to kill us."

  "Don't be silly, girl," Baitrum retorted, but, even to his ears, he sounded frightened. "I don't see anything here though, so I guess we might as well leave. Knowing that the gargoyles have turned against their callers should be important enough to satisfy Alyanna. I'm no wizard, so I doubt that I can find anything else anyway."

  He turned to see Serra staring open-mouthed at the portal. Turning to look there also, Baitrum watched as one of the shadows, the largest one, suddenly solidified. A pair of jaws capable of snapping a man's torso in half poked their way into the room. Red, narrow, slitted eyes came soon after and then the neck began its slow entry into the room. The eyes caught sight of the girl and seemed to narrow even more. A forked tongue snaked out to lick its scaly lips.

  "Run, Serra!" Baitrum cried out and tried to race past the threatening head to exit the room. The long tongue snaked out as the dragon's head thrust forward suddenly quick and wrapped around Serra's right arm. Too shocked to scream, the girl was pulled wordlessly into the room.

  "No!" the soldier shouted turning in a rush with his sword prepared to strike the dragon's tongue.

  Unfortunately, the dragon was much quicker than he. With a flick of the creature's huge head, the snout hit Baitrum in the chest and arms. Though the movement may have been a light tap to the dragon, its mass was much greater than the man’s. The soldier flew backwards and nearly struck the wall behind him, which had been almost a dozen feet away from the attack.

  Dazed from the blow, Baitrum fought to keep his wits even as he watched the dragon move further into the chamber. A second smaller shadow solidified as the dragon lazily crawled inside. The second was followed by a third and two gargoyles turned as they appeared to face the soldier who was slowly getting to his feet.

  Looking to his hand, Baitrum realized that his sword had come loose from the impact. The arm that had been holding it hurt badly and he thought that it might be broken from the fall. The gargoyles were looking at him unblinkingly. Their stares were unnatural in their intensity. He knew that no man could ever give such a cold and uncaring look. It was a look unique to the gargoyle's race alone, he was sure.

  It was as they all stood looking at each other that Baitrum realized that these gargoyles were unusual in appearance. Never had he seen one of their race clad in anything other than their tough leather armor. These wore kilt-like skirts around their waists and an amazing amount of golden circlets wrapped decoratively up and down the lengths of both arms. Each wore a pendant that hung to the center of their great chests, one gold and the other silver. The patterns on the circular pendants were different as well, though the work may have come from the same artist based on the style and quality.

  The one with the silver pendant noted the girl still held in the strong, wet embrace of the dragon's tongue. "Elk'gen, don't play with your food," the gargoyle spoke to the massive creature in his native tongue. Baitrum had learned enough of the gargoyle language in the past year to follow along, however, a talent few knew about.

  The red scaled dragon turned an eye lazily towards the gargoyles and stated as best it could with its tongue occupied, "I am not playing. This is the first mortal that I have had a chance to see. It's a female, I believe."

  If Baitrum had known the mannerisms of the mar'goyn'lya, he would have noted the sarcasm of the next retort. "You’ll have plenty of them to look at here. Perhaps we should kill these before they can escape to tell of what has happened. Why don't you eat them for us?"

  The dragon had nearly all its body within the chamber now. The beast was huge, larger than any Baitrum had seen before and the army had brought over ones that were larger than most homes in Hala. The dragon lay down and grasped Serra with one giant clawed hand. With its elbow braced on the stone floor, Elk'gen lifted Serra nearer to his face. Giving a brief sniff, the dragon turned its head away and sneezed a surprisingly delicate exhale of air for one so huge.

  "She smells like some form of flowers. Interesting.
The male is quite different, more musk. Neither smell overly tasty to me, Fa'duk. You eat them, if you want. I would rather take the time to study them."

  "Bah!" the silver emblemed gargoyle scoffed. "Che'ther, you amaze me. Your race is entirely too soft for creatures with such big teeth." Fa'duk turned to look at Baitrum and a glow of blue fire shimmered between his outspread fingertips. The soldier gasped. These were wizards. He had not known that the mar'goyn'lya knew any magic, but this one obviously did.

  "Please, do not be so hasty," the soldier spoke stumblingly in the alien language. "I think we can surely come to some better arrangement, friends."

  The other gargoyle's right eye widened ever so slightly, or Baitrum would have never have noted the surprise of the giant. "You know our language, human?"

  "I have learned some. Serving at your warriors’ sides, they took the time to teach what they could of your race including your words."

  Fa'duk shrugged his massive wings before nudging his fellow. Baitrum noted the flames had faded for the moment. "What does it matter, Fa'makel'zer? Let us kill them and be done with it. The others will expect us to follow them north as swiftly as possible."