Hammers in the Wind

by Christian Warren Freed

  “I still don’t like this,” Raste snarled in a low voice.

  Mahn rolled his eyes and fought off a yawn. “Are you ever satisfied? The Pell haven’t shown any inclination to attack us. Don’t be so eager to start a fight.”

  “They started it by capturing us.”

  “There has to be a valid reason for what they did. I will not be the one to ruin it now before the prince has his talk.” He knew his words were lost on the youth. Perhaps the fateful battle that changed Raste’s life was still too near the heart to let him rest.

  Raste scowled harshly, thankful for the predawn lest Mahn take offense. “I don’t care what you say. They’re going to kill us all in our sleep the moment we let our guard down. And then where will we be? We should take that Ol hostage and escape.”

  “How do you propose to do that? We are outnumbered and deep in their territory. The Pell would cut us down without a second thought,” Mahn mocked. “War is coming soon enough. Stop being in such a hurry to meet it.”

  The younger scout kept his tongue. Arguing served no purpose, especially when both were beyond exhaustion and starving. The indiscipline of it was enough to severely punish him should Mahn pursue the issue. Their discussion abruptly ended when Cuul Ol exited the tent and stalked off. The Pell faded away as if they’d never been. Aurec came out next and Mahn felt his mood darken. He saw trouble brooding on his prince’s brow. Whatever he and the Pell talked about seemed enough to galvanize the prince into immediate action.

  “Strike the camp,” he called out more sharply than intended.

  Venten tried unsuccessfully to hide his concern. “What is it, Aurec? Why rush now? The Pell have left and we are but a few days from home.”

  “Cuul Ol has brought certain news the king must know. I cannot explain it now, old friend, but I believe it is of grave importance.”

  That was enough for Venten. He trusted the word of father and son equally. He turned and echoed, “Strike camp!”

  Aurec reluctantly turned to his scouts, knowing they were at their limits. “Mahn, Raste, lead the way. I want to be out of these mountains by dusk.”

  Three days later Mahn crested the last rise and gazed down upon the distant spires of the city of his birth for the first time in a month. Rogscroft. He was home though it didn’t feel right. Events of the past few days left him with an empty feeling. Euphoria would be short lived.

  NINETEEN

  King Stelskor stared longingly out the enormous windows of the throne chamber. A flight of snow geese soared past. He longed for that freedom. Castles and throne rooms were far too confining for any man’s sanity and health. He needed to feel the wind in his hair and worn decks of a ship beneath his feet as he rode the open waves with only the far horizon for a friend. Sadly, those days were behind him. He was king and needed to act accordingly.

  Delicate matters demanded his attention. All of Rogscroft was abuzz. Aurec and his band had returned a short while ago. News had already reached the king of the urgent matter his son bore. He sighed. Dreams of escape would have to wait. The aging king was a mix of emotions. He longed to see his son again yet was concerned over the severity of the message. He’d guided Rogscroft from one crisis to the next, through turmoil and war, but this felt different. A growing foreboding burrowed in the back of his mind. Stelskor wished he had a better feel for the storm rushing towards them.

  The future felt dark. He smirked, more at himself than anything tomorrow might have in store. His dark grey robes reflected his mood. He should have known better than to expect anything good from agreeing to let his son carry out a raid on Chadra Keep. And because of that Stelskor felt the need to wear the crown for the first time in several months. Content to wait for his son to finish freshening up from the long journey, the king went back to his favorite chair in front of the fireplace. Times were coming when he would not be able to enjoy the simple luxury.

  “A darkness you say. That seems fairly vague,” Stelskor said, absently stroking the stubble on his chin.

  Aurec bowed his head, expecting such. “I know what it sounds like father, but Cuul Ol was adamant about this.”

  “What reasons have you to believe this savage?”

  “The Pell are ruthless, and savage to all who have never had dealings with them. I did not once have reason to feel threatened by him. His tale of the Dae’shan bears merit. I wish to check the library as soon as possible.”

  Stelskor’s gaze sharpened. “Don’t be so quick to trust strangers who merely claim a fact. There is always a new crisis that needs dealing with, son. What you have told me thus far doesn’t suggest anything special about to happen, Dae’shan or not.”

  “Father, both you and I have dealt with the Pell before. Yes they are cruel and filled with a vengeance we will never know the origins of, but they have shown the potential to be staunch allies in the coming war.”

  The king exhaled a short breath. “War. That’s a terrible premonition. The future does not need to lead us into war. It may yet be averted.”

  “You know we have no choice,” Aurec replied coldly.

  Rather than let his son’s defiance inspire anger, Stelskor kept his emotions in check, or at least tried. “Badron would not be provoked into crossing the Murdes if you hadn’t stolen his daughter. Your actions were reckless and potentially damning. Delranan will not hesitate to invade and our army is no match for the Wolfsreik.”

  “I did what I had to do, father. Badron would have imprisoned Maleela or worse. He has no regard for his own flesh and blood.”

  “That is beside the point! The dealings of Delranan nobility are not our concern. You and I have a sworn duty to the future of this kingdom and our people. Nothing else.”

  Aurec was dumbfounded. “I love her.”

  His words stole some of the king’s bite. Father laid a tender hand on Aurec’s shoulder. “I know you do, son. That is what makes this situation so bad. You do not know Badron as I. He has long had his eye on Rogscroft. He knows that we are the key to him controlling a free trade route across the northern steppes and down south into Averon. Ever has he dreamed of unlimited power. That path will be open all the way down to Paedwyn once he finishes with us.”

  “How could you know all of this?” The words haunted him. Memories of what Cuul Ol had said floated just out of reach of making sense.

  Stelskor hung his head ever so slightly. “King Badron and I were once close friends. We met while students at the royal war college of Averon. A magnificent academy, but built from necessity. They had forever been under the threat of attack from the wicked land of Gren. Badron and I were eager students. We wanted to learn the ways of war and thought nothing of the rest of the world.

  “ Little did I know Badron had other views. I knew from the beginning that I would be king one day. My first instinct was to defend Rogscroft, not turn it into a super power. Badron wanted the world. He and I cut ties soon after our coronations. My father died peacefully one winter night. It has long been rumored the Badron had his henchman, Harnin, poison his. No one has been able to prove it, though it makes sense. The lure of power is more addicting than the charms of a good woman.”

  “I don’t understand what that has to do with Badron wanting to harm his own daughter,” Aurec cut in.

  “That is something she needs to tell you personally. Enough of this. What makes you believe the Pell will actually fight for us?”

  Aurec tried to ignore the prospect of confronting Maleela. “Cuul Ol has promised to position his clans along the passes. They will not fight the war for us, but they should be able to harry the Delranan supply trains enough to draw out their columns. Any troops they have to waste defending their supplies gives us that much more time to raise our army and form an adequate defense.”

  “You have never seen the Wolfsreik in the field,” Stelskor replied solemnly. “They are the finest army in northern Malweir. Their soldiers are disciplined and well trained, much more so than any other force we might offer. No matter what we at
tempt by means of defense, the Wolfsreik will wait until they have massed their full strength and fall upon us like a hammer. We will not survive a head-on fight.”

  Aurec shook his head. “I think you lack faith in our men, father.”

  “I wish that were so. Our demise is already written. The army of the Wolf is coming and nothing we have is capable of stopping them.”

  “But the Pell…”

  “You said it yourself. They will not fight a war. Nor would I ask them to. It is to our people we must look.”

  “Why do you argue we are already lost, father? I do not relish the prospect of having to go to war against a stronger, better-trained army, but I cannot abandon our kingdom so easily. The people deserve our best efforts, even should it result in failure.”

  “I agree. The people must come first. What then do you propose, prince of Delranan? What would you do before King Badron and the Wolfsreik howl at our gates?”

  Aurec fell silent. Never before had his father been so direct. The unspoken responsibility left the most astounding feeling. Could this mean his father felt he was finally ready to do what was best for the kingdom? No, he’d just been admonished for stealing Maleela. Still, Aurec was beaming on the inside. Nothing was more important than the love and respect of a father.

  “It is clear that we are no match for the enemy. We must rely on guile and deceit to stop them,” he answered carefully.

  Stelskor gave him an approving look. “You have anticipated this?”

  It was more statement than question. They’d spent countless hours working through scenarios and situations that might one day arise, a Delranan invasion among them. The threat was not new. Stelskor had spent his entire adult life under the threat of invasion. Only now in the autumn of his life were those fears realized. Rogscroft had never been very large, certainly not large enough to support a large army. The defenders would fight bravely, as all men in a death situation do, but that would only delay the inevitable. Rogscroft would fall. The only question left was how many were going to die first.

  Aurec said, “Yes Father, I have. I think we have the opportunity to severely hurt the Delrananians before they reach the city.”

  He paused, eager for approval.

  “Go on,” Stelskor encouraged.

  “The Pell agreed to waylay the supply trains. This will cause the Wolfsreik to divert combat troops to defend them. We can use that delay to our advantage by making fast strikes on the forward deployed units. Let me take two battalions and I will spread them out by platoons. From there we can begin a campaign of guerrilla attacks.”

  Stelskor liked the idea. War was inevitable. He recognized this for truth. Badron’s hunger had finally grown too much to control. The Wolfsreik campaign would be fast and brutal. Any delay Aurec might cause them prolonged the life of his beautiful city.

  “Such actions would give me time to evacuate the civilians,” he concluded. “Every life saved is a bonus. Your plan has merit, my son.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  Aurec blushed at the sort of compliment he’d waited his whole life to hear. To hear them now filled him with pride and intent.

  “Yes,” Stelskor added. “This might work. It seems as though you have grown up without me realizing it. I caution you this, however. Do not throw away the lives of our men needlessly. Strike the enemy hard but wisely. Even should we lose the city the time will come when we will get revenge.”

  “I promise,” Aurec answered.

  Stelskor slapped Aurec’s shoulder with pride. “I know you will. Now come, tell me of this princess of yours. I would like to know more about the woman who has managed to capture your heart.”

  The king of Rogscroft had much on his mind but welcomed any diversion.

  Maleela hugged Aurec tightly as she wept on his shoulder.

  “I’m scared, Aurec,” she whispered between sobs.

  He reluctantly admitted, “So am I. My people are on the edge of destruction and I am only one man. I am almost powerless to stop the enemy.”

  “Can we leave now and head south? Averon will not turn us away. We can make a new life and put this all behind us.”

  Aurec fought back his own tears. “My fate will be the same as my people.”

  “What?”

  He pulled away, making sure to look deeply into her eyes. “Maleela, I will not abandon my country. Would you do any less? Could you do any less?”

  “What about us? Our life hasn’t even begun. Tell me the point of stealing me from my home if it was for naught.”

  “Fate has not let me choose.”

  He cast his gaze down from shame.

  Maleela caught his hesitation. “You’re not telling me everything. There is more.”

  Aurec fought through momentary confusion. How could he tell her that he intended to destroy her father’s army and sanction the killing of King Badron himself? The knowledge would be enough to break her heart and possibly turn her cold. Aurec decided not to chance it.

  “Your father’s army is coming. He will burn this city to the ground unless I can stop him. Let us not forget the portent of Cuul Ol. I feel deflated.”

  Maleela took a seat on the floral pattern bench at the foot of their bed. “The Wolfsreik has never been beaten. They do not know how to lose. There is no way you can stand against them in battle.”

  “I don’t plan to. We have a plan in place that will buy my father time and hopefully save lives.”

  She listened intently as he explained the basis of the coming campaign. To her credit she did her best to put on a good face and ignore the fact that he plotted to kill her people. She’d come to accept that the war would not be stopped, but still had trouble adjusting to the fact that Aurec aimed to kill as many of her people as possible. The thought never strayed far from the front of her mind.

  “I don’t understand why it has to be you. There must be plenty of generals and competent commanders in Rogscroft who can lead the war. Why does it have to be you?”

  His eyes welled. The emotion became too strong. “These are my people. I am the heir to the throne. What choice do I really have?”

  She knew he was right, and suddenly felt very selfish for asking him to remain safe while others bled. That didn’t assuage the heartache. Maleela dearly wanted to escape the nightmare her life had become and find the dreams that drove her through childhood. Life had other designs. Maleela was torn. The only thing she had in this world was her love for Aurec. She wouldn’t be able to go on without him. More so, she wouldn’t be able to leave his side. Ever.

  “Do you love me?” Aurec asked unexpectedly.

  “With all my heart.”

  He touched a finger gently to her cheek. “Then have faith in me. I will not leave you. Not now, not ever. The fate of our two kingdoms lies in the balance and I would see at least one come through this intact. I will return to you. I promise you with my every breath. We will be married, my love.”

  “Do you swear?” she timidly asked.

  “I swear.”

  She wrapped herself around him, enveloping his strong body. There was desperate need in her actions. Months of pent up passion suddenly boiled over and, instead of fighting it, she gave in. She let the passion sweep her away. It was raw. Lustful. Maleela kissed him fiercely, hungrily driving her tongue into his warm mouth. Aurec responded, his own body betrayed.

  “Make love to me,” she whispered between frenzied kisses.

  And he did. Aurec picked her up and carried her into their bed. They tore the clothes from each other and became one for the first time. Thoughts of war and death melted. There would be plenty of time for that in the future. Tonight belonged to love.

  TWENTY

  Skuld awoke to a heavy hand clamped tightly over his mouth. He shook the blur from his eyes and found Boen staring back at him. Danger laced his eyes.

  The big Gaimosian placed a finger over his mouth in warning. “Shhh.”

  Skuld nodded understanding and was rewarded by being let go
. Boen, sword already in hand, motioned for the boy to follow. Skuld didn’t hesitate. Reaching for his own woeful dagger, he slid from the cot and slipped on his boots. Boen was at the door by the time he finished.

  “Stay close behind me and do not get in my way. It would be a shame if I accidentally cut you down,” Boen whispered.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Keep your lips together and follow me.”

  Boen slipped into the shadow-darkened hallway. A lone lamp flickered weakly in the distance just before the turn of the stairwell. He moved menacingly, with a measure of stealth. Each step was lethal, leaving Skuld to wonder what exactly awaited them. Boen moved faster, reaching the stairs and easing his head around the corner. He gestured Skuld forward once he was satisfied the way was clear. They made it to the final steps when the front door creaked open. Three soldiers dressed in Rogscroft armor eased inside. Each was armed.

  Moonlight glistened off their steel helms. Forest green capes flowed from their shoulders. Boen immediately saw them for the threat they were. They had come here with the specific intent on killing the Delrananians. Boen froze and met their gaze. The three moved as one. This was no accident. The enemy had been waiting.

  “Halt right there,” the sergeant barked.

  Boen instantly dropped into a fighting stance. The stairwell reduced his range of motion but it also protected his rear. The enemy could only come at him from one direction. Their numbers meant nothing. He readied for attack, praying they failed to recognize him for what he was.

  It was an attack that never came. Two shadows detached themselves from the darkness and fell on the soldiers with swift fury. A rope of blood flew. An arm dropped. A head was chopped. It was over in seconds. Skuld’s mouth fell open at the sight of the dead men. Pure shock froze him. He’d never seen so many cut down so fast.