The Spirit of Malquia (In the Absence of Kings Book 2)

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The Spirit of Malquia (In the Absence of Kings Book 2) Page 2

by Lee LaCroix


  “You have been allotted one month to consider your options. Pray that you come to your senses lest we be forced to take them from you,” the ambassador demanded and turned into the bulk of his soldiers, who began to march in step with his retreat back to their ship.

  Again, the Vandarian ship was boarded in silence, and the darks in the soldier’s eyes were fixed upon the Malquians as the vessel and its passengers had left them all speechless. The King and the rest of his subjects stood firm as the foreign ship cast off to join the rest of their fleet, feeling the tension and animosity in the eyes of the Vandarian soldiers until they could distinguish them no more. The King finally turned back to the Gallant when the armada had vanished beyond the horizon. The King only broke his thoughtful stare to meet the glare of his wife. Although she had a stern face, he could see that she was worried.

  “What do we do?” she whispered to him, taking his hand as they ascended the ramp.

  “We will not bow. We will fight,” the King uttered as he lifted his face to the falling sun.

  Act One

  Chapter One

  On a day like any other, Novas awoke before dawn, trudged into the woods to the southeast of Amatharsus, and took up his perch on the familiar hill. With his bow drawn and his quiver full, he waited for the furry ears of the hare to arise above the grassy shoots and thorny bushes before placing his shot. All this exchange of coin and food had made Novas weary of losing his natural talent for hunting game. So, he persisted to retain the skills that he had been raised with, or the city would make him weak. He had had to relocate across the field twice, for the hares were unsettled that day and sped away at the lightest disturbance. The sun had only just lost its redness and hung a small way above the horizon before Novas returned to town with three hares in hand.

  As he passed the southern entrance to the city, he did not see his chef friend Fesstil’s cart in its usual place, so he ventured inward to the city to begin his search. He found him in the western end of the Trade District with the rest of the food vendors. Fesstil raised his head from preparing some vegetables and waved at Novas with his knife.

  “Novas, I’m glad you’ve found me. How can I help you today?” Fesstil questioned with a grin.

  “I’ve actually come to help you today, my friend. We’ll be making a nice rabbit stew,” Novas responded as he lifted the rabbits.

  “Excellent. Well, come on over,” Fesstil replied with another wave of his knife, and he made room for Novas on his table.

  Novas prepared the hares while Fesstil cooked the stock and the vegetables in his fireside iron pot. When the rabbits were skinned, the two cooks diced them together. Before long, the stew was simmering, and Novas was helping the chef with different orders.

  “Things are much better now that the Blackwoods and their strangling taxes are gone. All these vendors and our fellow chefs feel less restrained by competition and more open to cooperation. Our interactions are far more convenient now that we are located so close. No longer are we trying to swindle each other’s coin by offering marked up prices on ingredients. I’ve even seen referrals and collaborations today,” Fesstil explained as he continued to prepare the meals.

  “This is good to hear,” Novas replied. “Separation and segregation has led to fear and desperation. The Trade District should be much more prosperous now that we have eliminated what has profited from our division.”

  “I agree and hope so completely,” Fesstil remarked with a smile.

  Before Novas had tired his arms at the chef’s side, the stew had finished cooking and softening and was ready to go. Novas carried it out of the Trade District in a large wooden jug and hauled it to the courtyard, which had been recently rebranded as the Crown Aegis training grounds. From the walls of the surrounding buildings, flags and pennants of white and blood red hung, which were decorated with a crown resting upon the guard of a sword. The courtyard was as full as ever, and Novas veered his way through busy recruits to gather Kayten from the forge and Garreth from the range.

  “Ah. I am starved today. There are so many new recruits with rusty and worn blades that they seem to be pouring in from across the land,” Kayten exclaimed.

  “Indeed. Berault and I spoke today. We have to give people scheduled days for practice because we certainly could not fit them all inside them here at once. We’ll probably have to prepare a ring outside the city. In that shadeless field, no less,” Garreth explained.

  They all returned to the apartment and had a seat in the study where Novas poured the brew into the bowls, and they dug into their meal with genuine hunger.

  “This is another one of Fesstil’s mixes, I presume?” Garreth commented and took a spoonful.

  “Indeed it is. But the rabbits were my contribution! Couldn’t have myself getting fat and lazy on this city tripe,” Novas boasted.

  The three shared a laugh and continued to eat at the tasty stew. Much to Novas’ relief, the meat had softened to a desirable tenderness, only second to the savoury potatoes which seemed to melt in their mouths. Fesstil’s secret blend of herbs balanced the saltiness of the broth, making the carrots and celery a delight. A cool breeze came in through the window and refreshed them during their warm meal. They placed their bowls down upon the supping table and leaned back against their chairs.

  “I need to be heading back now. Berault is expecting a courier before noon, and I’d like to be there for the news,” Garreth explained, getting up out of his chair.

  “I’d like to come along if it’s no problem,” Novas offered as he cleared the table.

  “And I suppose I’d better head back to the smithy,” Kayten said with a sigh and stretched her arms.

  The three headed back to the training grounds, and Garreth and Novas bid Kayten farewell after they arrived at the smithy. The two rangers looked about for any sign of Berault but failed to find him at his usual place around the armory. They made their way over to the sparring pits where a few pairs of swordsmen were dueling and had a rest upon a bordering wall.

  “Have you heard from Zill as of late?” Garreth asked.

  Novas did not respond, but from the look of his widened eyes, Garreth could tell his son was undeniably concerned. Novas sighed and peered through the crowd as if he was looking for someone.

  “Not since before the raid on the Black Market. I asked Tummas to keep an eye out for his return, but he has yet to bring any news to me,” Novas explained.

  “He could have been a Blackwoods all along. Perhaps that’s how their ambush worked so well and caught so many of us,” Garreth elaborated.

  “Maybe,” Novas trailed off.

  As much as Novas did not want to admit it, he knew it was entirely possible that his friend Zill had been a Blackwoods spy since his disappearance a day before Amatharsus’ liberation. Novas had met the lad during his infiltration of a bandit camp after all, and Zill’s larcenous tendencies were nothing out of the ordinary for his character. Still, Novas had supped with him, ate and drank with him, and knew Zill to be different than the heartless rogues that darkened Malquia’s countryside. Regardless, Novas wished to see him again, so he could finally know the truth.

  When Berault appeared after exiting the armory, the two met him under a newly constructed rotunda not far from the archery range. Berault was sat at a round table in the shade, so Garreth took a seat beside him, and Novas stood alongside.

  “Has he arrived yet?” Garreth remarked.

  “Does it look like he’s arrived yet?” Berault asked as he spread his arms around the table.

  “I suppose not,” Garreth responded as he rolled his eyes. “This ranger is coming from the north, correct?”

  “Yes. He’s one of my contacts from the Gold Acres. In my last missive, I’ve asked him to keep an eye on the Deepshine pit, and I’m hoping he comes up with some revealing news,” Berault informed.

  “The Deepshine pit?” Novas queried. “That sounds awfully ominous.”

  “Aye, Deepshine is where we believe Lord V
yse has got himself squirreled up after we tossed him out of the city. Reports say he was living here in Amatharsus with the Queen, overseeing the pilfering operations of the city, but fled with his loyalists when our revolt turned successful,” Berault replied. “Ah, I think that’s him now.”

  A man with a faded green cloak, brown cloth jerkin and leggings, and wrinkled leather boots emerged from a recess in the crowd and appeared to be searching for his contact. Berault threw his hand in the air and attempted to wave the man down. Before long, the visitor’s eyes caught hold of the tell, and he marched over to the table. His flaxen blonde hair was almost white but was nowhere near Berault’s age, and he had traces of black and gray hairs in his stubble as well. He was nearly as tall as Eyrn, more likely on par with Garreth, and had an average build and allure. It was quite obvious he traveled alone, for his hair was unkempt and untrimmed, his short beard patchy, and his hands were cut and calloused. By the cleanliness and condition of his clothes, Novas assumed he had been out in the wild for some time. He was definitely a ranger.

  “Welcome back, Dom. Domminal, this is Garreth, a fellow ranger, and his son, Novas, one of the Aegis,” Berault offered.

  The ranger made a curt nod, looked around the table with his deep blue eyes, and then sat.

  “Well, what do you have for us. What news from the north?” Berault questioned, drumming his fingers on the table.

  “News of the capital’s liberation has spread fast. There was a subdued celebration in Bouldershade. There is still much Blackwoods influence in the area, so the celebrations were none too public. I got wind of a group of caravans. By the number of them and the amount of armoured guard escorting them, people are saying it was probably the Blackwoods hightailing it from the capital,” Domminal explained.

  “We have heard reports from some citizens and merchants around town that supports that as well. We fought many of the Queen’s Aegis, but there is no way we have defeated their entire force,” Berault elaborated. “Any other news?”

  “Before I left from the town of Gold Acres, the town was being stripped bare of its goods. Whether purchased by Vyse’s extensive treasury or obtained by less reputable methods, the small wealth of the town is being hauled over the Rauros Mountains. From the stable horses and vintage casks of wine to the formidable stockpiles of grain and wheat that are the town’s bounty, it all has been taken. There was a protest in the market the other day. However, it was quickly put down by the Queen’s Aegis stationed at familial home of Vyse and the Queen.” Domminal reported.

  “The Queen lived there? And Lord Vyse?” Novas asked.

  “Yes. His descendants took leadership of the town after its destruction in the civil war, and their claim to the nearby Deepshine mine made his family very wealthy and influential. Many argue that this wealth and power is what put the Queen on the throne, but few would dare admit,” Domminal answered.

  “As I’ve heard,” Berault stated. “But what of Deepshine? Is it possible Vyse is there as well?”

  “Either or, I’d suppose. Deepshine has not only had movement on land but also from the sea. Over the last two weeks, I have seen two or three foreign ships flow into the bay and make port in the Deepshine docks. As I watched from afar, they seemed to be delegates with ships with only few soldiers, and they always hauled away Blackwoods crates. However, I counted at least seven ships yesterday. They docked and unloaded hundreds of men. Whether they be slaves for the mine or soldiers for their ranks, I have a feeling the Blackwoods are bolstering their ranks with these foreigners,” Domminal foretold.

  “I would not put it past them. Whether the battle in the Upper Quarter was a feigned defeat or not, they will not wish to lose once again,” Berault warned as he looked around the table.

  “This could be a staging ground for invasion. It could only be the beginning. If they are sending men in the numbers that quickly, then time may be of the essence. Who knows what they will do? March upon the capital? Pillage the surrounding towns and villages? We cannot stand for that this early in our new found peace,” Garreth estimated.

  “Peace… no. This is no peace. I have a feeling this is only the calm before a great storm,” Berault uttered and then grit his teeth as a silence fell over the table.

  “This is happening so soon. We cannot march the Crown Aegis off to war. We have neither the reserves nor the resources the Crown Army once held. Willing volunteers are still trickling into the city, but they are neither trained nor armed enough to march upon the north. Putting the city through wartime measures would only strain the patience and acceptance of the citizens, especially in a time focused on so much restoration and rebuilding. We could not wait for soldiers that might never respond to the call, and I know damn well that Amatharsus isn’t the only place the Blackwoods once had in its grip. We still would have to do more,” Berault explained.

  “Garreth, I want you and Novas to take Dom here and head to Bouldershade. Dismantle any Blackwoods operations and rally any who are loyal to the King’s cause. We need to have that city open to our people if we choose to move further north. We cannot have it being used against us at all costs. I am going to send more allies around to towns and villages to do the same. Hopefully, we can rout out the remainder of the bandit camps at the same time. You three, some of my best, will have the distinct pleasure of working out of Bouldershade. I know I might be sending you into the hornet’s nest, but you two know the Blackwoods better than anyone, and I can’t think of anyone else who I can trust to deal with them there. Leave when you are prepared and don’t return until you have results,” Berault ordered.

  “Understood. We’ll leave immediately,” Garreth confirmed as he rose from his chair.

  “I’ll meet you at the northern gate. Don’t leave without me,” Domminal told them before strolling off into the courtyard crowd.

  Garreth nodded to him and then led Novas over to the smithy. He went inside and tapped Kayten on the shoulder, and she met the two outside a while later.

  “Berault’s asked us to head north to Bouldershade and scout around for Blackwoods. We’ll be gone for a few days, maybe longer. The rooms will be all yours for a while. Keep it well. And be sure to ask Berault if you need anything, he’s always happy to help in our stead,” Garreth explained to her.

  “You know, I feel a lot better about coming here since we threw the Blackwoods out of town. I was thinking about going back to the Crossroads and reopening my father’s shop. But I realize that my life is amongst the Crown Aegis and the people of this city. My father’s vengeance is not complete, and as you’ve told me, the Blackwoods are not disbanded yet. So, here I will stay and help the cause. I will miss you two. Be safe and return soon,” Kayten explained before offering a hug to both of them.

  “I promise we’ll be back. Just stay safe yourself!” Novas added.

  “Alright then, farewell!” Kayten said as she waved her forge glove, and the two turned away and disappeared into the crowd.

  She was scared she would never see them again but tried to overcome her fear.

  Chapter Two

  Novas and Garreth walked back to the apartment, let themselves in, and then started to pack for their journey. Garreth had packed almost everything he had brought to the city: his bow, his sword, two packed quivers, his map, his herbs, his pestle, his mortar, his coin sack, the canteens of fresh water, and a fresh handful of flint. Novas gathered much of the same, and they were out of the Salty Dog after saying farewell to Tummas. He wished them safe travels and demanded that they finish a small glass of ale before their journey, and they all clinked glasses and supped with appreciation. The two hunters stopped in the Trade District and stocked up on traveler’s fare including dried ham, deer jerky, and a bag full of pears, carrots and onions. They marched up to the Upper Quarter and traveled down Brightsbend Way to reach the northern gate of the city. Domminal was waiting not far outside the northern gate, leaning against a post of a fence that bordered the road. Likewise, he was packed and ready for the lon
g trek.

  “Greetings,” Garreth offered with a wave as he approached.

  Domminal replied with a nod and shouldered his pack, and they strode side by side against the border of the city until they reached the Great North Road.

  The summer breeze was beginning to lose its warmth, and the leaves of the trees were beginning to change colour and fall. Soon, the forest floor would be covered in a second foliage, and the trees would be nearly transparent like standing skeletons. Garreth sensed another season of rain was coming even though he hoped it would not be so. He could feel it in the air. It was on the tip of his tongue. He did not mind the earlier rising of the sun, for he felt that it extended that peaceful and airy stretch of time before sunrise. Spring had been warmer than usual, and this summer season seemed to stretch on. Regardless, the day was still sunny, and the weather was nice for traveling.

  Garreth flipped up his hood to block the cool kiss of the wind and peered forward. The Great North Road extended into the horizon where it turned into gleaming glass and water. The three passed many tilled fields growing upshots of leafy greens, golden corn, wheat, and barley. The stone walls that separated the road and the crops were made from the same hunks of solid earth that had been lifted from the fields. It had seemed all of the ranches on this stretch of road were hidden by strips of forest because Garreth could peer into the spaces between trees to see buildings of wood, brick, and mortar. The traffic on the road pleased Garreth, for caravans still passed regularly, and their drivers seemed less snarly and defensive. There were also footbound wayfarers like themselves, and they passed with a hearty wave or a nod often. Garreth had hoped this was a sign that this stretch of road was more free from the Blackwoods, but he kept his eyes sharp just to be sure.

 

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