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

by Lee LaCroix

  Inside was an assortment in pieces of armour— two complete sets that had been polished and smoothed to a shine.

  “These are the first sets of armour I’ve ever made. Not too much different than the weapons, I find, but taking so much more time,” Kayten explained as she lifted a ringmail weave out of the box, the circular links of steel glinting in the dim light.

  “These are for you?” Novas questioned before he lifted a shoulder pauldron out of the box, inspecting the fiery design on its edges.

  The decorative edge of the armour sparkled with a golden glimmer; it was definitely sunsteel, if only in partial amounts.

  “For us, silly,” Kayten remarked as she took the second set of ringmail out of the box and placed it against Novas’ frame. “This should be yours.”

  “Wow,” Novas spoke as Kayten began to divide the armour into sets.

  Soon, there were two sizable piles of gear between them. Novas stood a shade dumbfounded as he looked upon the new equipment.

  “Well, let’s get it on,” Kayten said with a wink, and she started by slipping into the ringmail shell, which covered her arms and her chest all the way to her hips.

  Next, she tightened a thick leather belt to her waist, which held up the pair of ringmail pants that extended to just past her knees. The belt boasted a decorative buckle with a detailed carving of a hammer surrounded by flames, the fiery decoration shining with the telltale glimmer of sunsteel.

  “This one is yours obviously,” Kayten stated as she tapped upon the buckle of Novas’ belt, which was emblazoned with the emblem of a rising sun sparkling on the horizon with the shimmer of the precious metal emulating the effect of the sun’s rays.

  Novas smiled, nodded, and then went to go make his way into his boots. They were far less malleable than his old leathers, but the hard leather frame featured a fur inline to keep the feet warm and iron plates on the heel, shin, and toe for protection.

  When the inner layer of their gear was completed, Kayten began to show Novas how to strap on the outer parts, and she started with securing his shoulder pauldrons and the bracers that covered his forearms. These pieces both boasted a hard leather shell with smooth scales of steel over top. The gloves she designed for Novas had archery distinctly in mind because the pointer finger and the thumb were removed, letting him grip his arrows naturally. There was a sturdy metal plate that covered the back of the hand, and it was secured to a circular coil at the wrist so the hand could remain flexible. Sliding over the bracer was another layer of scale mail that seemed to merge seamlessly. With their hands free, Novas and Kayten began to strap on their leg plates, which were half-oval pieces of meshed steel and leather than ran from the hip down close to the knee.

  Novas looked around for the next piece of gear but was surprised when he found he was completely finished. He flexed around his shoulders, elbows, and knees and found their movement to still be quite fluid and unimpeded. Still, the extra weight seemed foreign to him, and he hoped that it would not affect his performance in battle.

  “If we go for a walk, you’ll get a feel for it in stride,” Kayten suggested, noticing his hesitance.

  “Kayten, this is wonderful. You gift me far too kindly, thank you,” Novas apologized.

  “Anything to keep us safe and together,” Kayten said before she embraced and kissed him.

  They stood there for a time in each other’s arms not wanting to break this moment in time. Not wanting to venture outside and meet this frightening fate but completely unable to do otherwise. They released each other from their touch and gazed into each other’s eyes as if they were carving a stone relief from the memory. Then, Novas turned away and led Kayten by the hand out of the apartment and into the warring world.

  Novas and Kayten joined the scattered procession of soldiers in the streets that were making their way south to the encampment. Denizens young and old stood on the streetsides and hung out of windows as the farewell decorum fell like snow. Bits of cloth, petals, and entire flowers fell from their grasp and landed soft upon the militia. There was a great deal of cheering while the citizens bade good luck to their heroes and a great deal of crying as mothers sent away their children to war. A group of girls, clad in their whites with wreaths in their hair and cloth with floral decorations, stood in the midst of the road and kissed every man on their cheek as they strode by.

  “This one is mine,” Kayten stated as a maiden approached Novas, shooing the girl away.

  Novas smirked and rolled his eyes, and they continued their way out of town amidst the salutations and well wishes. A banner hung over the southern gates and stated, “For the King, for the people. In service, in remembrance. For freedom, for all of Malquia”. Novas was glad to see that the message of their movement was beginning to spread; every man and woman, warriors or not, would need that reminder before the day’s end.

  From the arches, the very end of the tent city was lost in the silvery mist, and the ranks of soldiers extended into the white as well. The army was still undergoing formation when Kayten and Novas arrived, and the officer’s aides sorted each type of soldier into rank and divided the ranks into units and divisions. It was a mad rush of activity, and every man and woman seemed brisk and alert. The stomping of boots was like the galloping of a hundred horses and could be heard from in the city. Bannermen stood at the front of each division with a decorative insignia and a name to command each unit.

  “Shieldsmen in front, rows of fifteen now! Longsword, hammer, and axe-wielders behind them! Archers in the very back!” An aide commanded from his position near to Novas and Kayten, waving his arms about and pointing at particular soldiers.

  Despite the newly drafted soldiers’ inexperience with battle formations, the aide stood in front of a unit that was starting to stretch back for one hundred or more. Novas peered around the assembly for quite some time, looking for a familiar face to indicate where he may be needed. The sun was just beginning to cut through the thick fog, leaving pronounced beams of golden light in the air around them and thinning the mist a degree to allow them to see farther into the deep.

  “Over there. I see them!” Kayten called out, tugging on Novas’ sleeve.

  She took his hand and led him over the training yard where their allies had gathered. The command tent was a bright red construction with golden painted supports, and a Crown Aegis insignia was designed on each of the four faces. They weaved their way through the crowd of troops to find Berault at his usual place at the center end of a table with Eyrn at his side, Garreth and Ilsa behind him, and Domminal, Cern, Behn, and Tamil around the edges. It surprised Kayten to see Lord Cross at Berault’s side as well; he had donned the most elaborate armour with designs in perpendicular angles of burnished steel and gold. It looked sturdy enough to Kayten, and she pondered where he had had it made. Not far behind him, young Master Cross stood in less burdening but none-the-less tasteful gear. Kayten worried about a youth of his age facing the rigours of this battle but then recalled the faces of many men she had seen this morning that were not much older. A bow at his side assured her that he would not see the brunt of the coming battle.

  “As I was saying earlier, the officers will lead our five divisions into Boulderstone, and we’ll approach through this blasted fog. My division, led in front by Domminal here, will take the Great North Road with the largest force. Garreth and Behn’s divisions will cover our flanks by travelling off the road, ahead of the main division, and will send scouts ahead through the fog to assure that we are not ambushed. To ensure the safety of these two forward divisions, Lord Cross and Eyrn will take up the left and right wings respectively and scout the area from the west and east. If the fools are blunt enough to attack us head on again, we’ll be able to pincer them without much difficulty and wear down their troops with flanking maneuvers. We will hold this position until we meet the ridges of Rauros where we will reform and proceed with caution, adapting to what our scouts find beyond. I assume we will not march on Deepshine till tomorrow, and w
e will continue this battle plan then. Until then, let us hope that luck is with us and that this Crown Army can honour the last,” Berault ordered and then stood up from his chair.

  There was a round of agreement from the other soldiers, and everyone moved to take their places within their respective divisions. Kayten and Novas joined Garreth and Ilsa as they walked Berault over to his horse, who would follow at the back of the army and command from there. Berault put his good leg in the stirrups first and swung his stiff one over the horses back. It was the first time Novas had ever seen the man in armour, and he recognized it from the set that hung from his wall. Berault’s classic tan and golden tabard of the Crown Aegis hung over a mixture of chain mail and plate pieces, which were polished to a shine the night before. An aide strapped a kite shield to Berault’s arm, and a hand-and-a-half sword hung from the general’s side.

  “Well, this is it. We’ll see you out there,” Garreth offered as he tapped upon the horse’s side.

  “Indeed it is, take care of yourselves, all of you.” Berault ordered as he spurred the horse.

  Ilsa and Garreth turned to face Novas and Kayten.

  “So, I guess you’ll be joining us then?” Garreth inquired.

  He was given a chorus of nods in return.

  “The closer you are the better,” Garreth responded.

  Approaching from afar, Novas was puzzled to see his father and Ilsa in their telltale blacks, for the cloth offered little protection from the grit of battle. But upon further inspection, he noticed a new lining of scaled metal underneath the shawl of the shortened cape on their shoulders, a length of armour that extended down their arms, and another that protected the fronts of their legs. The metal itself was stained a black as deep as the cloth that surrounded it, and Novas grew a shade envious at its ingenuity but relented after looking over his own linings.

  “Well, follow me. We’ll fall in with the troops now,” Garreth commanded as they made their way up to the front of the divisions.

  By the time the officers had left the command tent, the aides had the majority of the soldiers in proper rank and formation and were waiting on orders. The four made their way into Garreth’s division, which was marked by the banner of a thorny tree with sharp leaves and an eagle perched on top. The soldiers looked over Garreth with a mix of respect and astonishment; even as a traveling ranger, his reputation was known around the city as a loyal blade, key conspirator to the revolution, and the leader of Amatharsus’ retaking. The four found their places at the front of the second rank, behind the shieldsmen. Kayten found her place among the shieldsmen, and Novas, Garreth, and Ilsa were in the row directly behind. When the soldiers had finalized their ranks, the people of Amatharsus began to stream out of the city in flocks, settling against fences and walls and gathering in great groups to see the soldiers march off. They brought their attention to Berault, who had raised his sword, bringing the attention of his troops to him.

  “Soldiers! Crown Aegis! Men, women, brothers, sisters, liberators, comrades, and the brave! Hear me now! We stand before the gates of this fair city, one in which fellow patriots like you and I toiled so hard to make free once again. Whether you were here since the falling of our most noble of kings or have just arrived today, you know that a dark and evil air had claimed our land. Divided, we were powerless to stop its advance. Once, we looked in each other’s eyes and saw nothing but distrust. How could we not, with so many wolves among us. But let me tell you, the reasons that brought you here today… to have to have faith in people that you did not know, to protect those who were not your blood, and to see that freedom, liberty, and prosperity may reign again, were the same reasons that allowed us to cast off our shackles and free us from the traitorous Blackwoods! Since freeing this city and reclaiming the jewel of our land, I have sent the Crown Aegis amongst you to show that the same vigilant heart that lie inside the King now beats within me and within every soldier than stands beside you. I thank you for standing beside us this day, and the free people of Amatharsus thank you this day,” Berault boomed, and his silence was met with a round of applause and cheering from the crowd.

  “Let me tell you, these Blackwoods traitors gnash their teeth at their defeat and attempt to scorn the lives we have striven to rebuild with passion. They know, united as we are, that they no longer have the strength to defy us. The strength is ours now, to reclaim everything that has been stolen from us, everything that once was ours. Lord Vyse, and his underlings, have made an evil pact! There are men on this land now from another shore, who wear a different cloth, who have a different blood, who approach this city without remorse and without mercy. They are not the Blackwoods, they are not of this land, these Vandari. As you may have heard, the town of Boulderstone is no more, burnt to cinders by their machinations. We move now, today, so that we can spare any more of our good people from the horrors that the Blackwoods have unleashed on that place. By being here, you have all agreed that this was a step too far, that this was too much to take, and I agree with all my heart! We will march through Boulderstone, through the rocky Rauros and down into Deepshine where we can end this misery once for all!” Berault concluded in a rising tone and pointed his sword to the sky.

  There was such a commotion of language, one that even rivaled the Trade District at noon, when the hooting, hollering, and cheering broke out amongst the soldiers and the citizens. Soon, the crackle of overwhelming applause muted the voices, and Berault pointed his sword northward and led his division out of the gathering. Next, Garreth commanded his soldiers forward behind the end of Berault’s unit. Next followed Behn’s troops, then Lord Cross’ warriors, then Eyrn’s forces until the march could be heard from all quarters of the city. Before long, the entirety of the Crown Army was on the Great North Road with each man and woman moving forward with a cause in their hearts and lightness to their steps.

  Berault led them without rest to the end of the grassy biome where the fields of spring green gave way to shoots of yellowed weed that poked out of the cracks and crevices of the rocky plateau. All that could be heard was the echoed stomping of the army, and the spectators at Amatharsus could hear the army’s heavy footsteps long after they had disappeared beyond the mist. Not even the eagle’s call could distract Novas, nor any other soldier, from this focus and purpose this day. Berault stopped the soldiers on the final flat and bade them rest while he met with his officers to go over the final details of their approach. The men and women broke ranks and tried their best at conversation although for the most part it seemed futile; they could not take their minds off the conflict ahead.

  Berault and his five officers could be seen a top a nearby ridge as they peered off into the distance of the thick fog, consulted a map of the area, and made a series of directional gestures. Lord Cross took his troops west, Eyrn led his division east, Garreth positioned his soldiers between the units of Lord Cross and Berault, and Behn moved between Eyrn and Berault’s groups. Garreth and Behn marched north first, scouting the Great North Road ahead for Berault’s main force. The fog was so obscuring, and the walls of mist were so thick and plenty that Garreth and Behn had to send out their own scouts to stay a length ahead. Occasionally, there were fears that the scouts were lost entirely. Covering Garreth and Behn’s flanks, Lord Cross and Eyrn moved north parallel with Berault’s group, and together the entire army journeyed forward. It was a slow process, not only because of the uneven and drastic rising and falling of the terrain but also because of the correspondence between the scouts and their commanders; the Crown Army could not afford to give away their position or the element of surprise if at all possible.

  The sky began to darken in the passing of the day when the army arrived at the borders of Boulderstone. The air became thick and cool, and the water began to bead on each suit of armour. It also seemed too much of a coincidence that the fog began to thin as Garreth and Behn’s units took the cliffs on the southern edges of Bouldershade, and Berault began to march his troops north into the limits. The erratic
change in weather, with the fog lifted away as if by purpose, offered the soldiers a less obstructed view of the devastation than they ever could have imagined. Each man and woman looked at the absolute oblivion of what once was and what was now. Which now was nothing.

  Little more than piles of rubble and the black smears of ash remained over the length of what used to be a town. The outlines of individual houses were barely recognizable because each block of wood had been reduced to the charred dust, victim of the fire’s bite, and each stone was hewn and crumbled by the Blackwoods’ insatiable hunger. Black streams began to wash by the soldier’s feet as a light rain began to pour, and the fog finally ascended from the earth but not without violence or protest. The Crown Army walked into the center of the town where the Rusted Pickaxe once stood. Just before Berault gave the order to break ranks and search the area, a taut creaking began to resound like the bending of trees in a vicious storm. Domminal, at the front of the division, gave a signal to indicate the noise was coming from the north. Before they could recognize what had caused it, the sky was filled with fires both natural and imitation.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The first screams of thunder rang out as orbs of fire hissed through the sky, landing with much devastation in the core of Berault’s division. On the northern cliffs bordering the town, an assortment of deadly constructions stood manned and supplied to continue the rain of fatality. In much haste, the soldiers spread out amongst the streets in panic and raised their eyes to the sky in hopes to predict the next deadly bombardment. For all their foresight, however, they were met with blinding flashes of lightning.

  From the west, there was a yelling barely heard over the smashing of wood and the clamour of war. Three scouts began to indicate that their units were now engaging Vandarian forces. From the east, declarations of the same nature came as rows upon rows of Vandar’s forces marched up the road. Garreth and Behn’s groups moved forward to support the general’s flanks while Eyrn and Lord Cross positioned their archers on the southern cliffs. The gentle spitting of rain worsened when the storm grew louder, and a white aura surrounded each helmet as the thick droplets fell upon them. A great host of these foreign men began to march in from north, east, and west of the ruins. The Vandari were pressed close and side to side for the entire width of the road and into the ditches even. In the midst of the three-way pincer attack and the terrible siege bombardment, the battle began.