Hammers in the Wind

by Christian Warren Freed

  “We sealed a pact with the blood son of Stelskor. The tribes of the Pell Darga owe him a debt. This is our way, Durgas. To go back on our word means dishonor. I will not be named so.”

  Durgas snarled at Cuul Ol and addressed the others. “You all know me. I am no coward, nor am I shamed by my words. Let the lowlanders fight each other. We have suffered enough at their hands. This is not our war.”

  “Your words make sense to all of us,” Cuul Ol surprised him by saying. “But there comes a time when every people must look beyond themselves. That hour has at last fallen on the Pell. Brothers, I have given our pledge of support to Prince Aurec. The tribes will meet this foe, but on our own ground.”

  Sint Ag added, “We do not have the strength to face them.”

  “I have no intentions of it. The enemy is strong. Their weapons and armor will slow them down where our own warriors can move freely. We can strike more often and melt back into the mountains. Our pact is to strike their supply lines and reinforcement columns. No tribe or war party is to attack a large unit. This is the only way.”

  Cuul Ol fell silent with the knowledge that the others would differ to his logic. They were fierce warriors and smart enough to know when victory was next to impossible. Striking the supply lines would prove difficult and equally rewarding to the war effort. His warriors were up to the challenge. Even should the main army try to corner them and counter attack there was no real danger. The Pell would disappear back into their mountain shadows.

  “What of the horse soldiers about to gain the passes?” Durgas finally asked in quasi defeat.

  The war chief gave him a toothy grin. “Let them pass. Aurec and his army will be waiting. Each of you should go and ready your warriors. The enemy will soon be here.”

  *****

  “Has he said anything yet?”

  Venten shook his head. “No, my lord. He remains defiant.”

  Stelskor watched the prisoner with great interest. “Perhaps he knows nothing of importance to us.”

  “There is little doubt the man is a mercenary, but he has to know more than he lets on.”

  For his part, the mercenary ignored them. He focused on any sign of weakness that might lead to his escape from this prison. The prince scared him, surprisingly enough. The king and his henchman were plain inexperienced in this sort of business but the prince showed almost too much restraint.

  Stelskor moved close enough to the bars to make his guards flinch. “Do you know who I am?”

  “That little brat princeling’s father.”

  “I am the king of Rogscroft. Even a mercenary should know better when addressing such,” he admonished.

  The mercenary sneered but was otherwise unfazed. Death was already a conclusion. “My apologies, king, but a man in chains doesn’t much feel like entertaining customs.”

  Stelskor backed away a step. “Perhaps some time here in our dungeons will cool your temper. I look forward to your stay.”

  Silence. The king and his men spun and headed towards the ironbound entrance door. Stelskor was the last to leave. He cast a withering glance over his shoulder, silently offering one final chance. “You are the kind of man who is worth the coin paid you. I appreciate that. How much has Badron paid you?”

  “Why?”

  The word bounced off of the slime-slickened walls. It was more accusation than question.

  “I can use men such as you in the future. You are a mercenary after all.”

  The door slammed shut leaving the prisoner shackled in near perfect darkness with misery his sole companion.

  “He will be a tough one to break,” Stelskor told Venten halfway down the hall.

  “All men have two things, sire. A price and a breaking point. If one does not work we will try the other. He will fold, we just need to try harder.”

  “Will he be of any use when he breaks?”

  Venten shrugged nonchalantly. “He is mercenary scum. I would put no faith in him.”

  “Anyone can be bought, Venten, as you so thoughtfully reminded me.”

  “All the more reason not to trust him. He is of Delranan blood. No matter what happens, he is the enemy.”

  Stelskor disagreed. “He is a prisoner of war. Perhaps you are right. Break him, but do not treat him so bad as to give fuel to Badron’s rage. I want to know everything he knows. Troop strengths, time tables. All of it. Our position has grown perilous if Badron’s killers can sneak inside our castle and steal with impudence.”

  Venten didn’t add the obvious fact that they were the ones who had precipitated this action by doing the very same thing less than a month ago. Curiously, the invaders had killed no one during their raid.

  “He will break,” Venten confirmed.

  The king gently gripped his arm. “Do what must be done.”

  Venten waited until the king and his retinue were gone before letting a wicked smile crease his face. He quickly summoned the jailor. He was going to enjoy this.

  *****

  Prince Aurec rode with a mixture of sorrow and disappointment. Not even the sight of the castle his great grandfather had built offered solace from the misery consuming him. Maleela was gone. The enemy was sending their entire army. His people were not ready. He had failed. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was what had gone wrong. He’d gone to Delranan to save the woman he loved from a horrible life and succeeded in bringing war to both kingdoms.

  The idea that he alone was responsible for the calamity befalling the northern kingdoms was ridiculous. Badron needed no encouragement to unleash his hatred upon the world. The fact that the Wolfsreik had been so easily assembled and deployed was testament enough. Aurec’s guilt should have been absolved, but he felt worse. He failed and his people would suffer for it. Aurec couldn’t decide which was worse, the guilt or the pain. Loud cheers brought him out of his self-induced misery. Aurec looked up in surprise at the hundreds of people lining the main avenue cheering his return.

  He stared in disbelief as the people of Rogscroft, his people, celebrated what they believed to be a triumphant return. He wasn’t a hero, and he certainly didn’t deserve such praise. What he didn’t know was that word of his victory had spread through the city. It gave them hope, a fire to keep them warm before the coming storms. They had won the first victory in a long war. He had no choice. Aurec reluctantly smiled and waved back.

  “This is incredible,” one of the younger soldiers said to his friend.

  Aurec genuinely smiled at that. “Enjoy this moment, trooper. We’ve won our first victory in what promises to be a long war.”

  Another great cheer erupted through the crowds. The people had hope.

  THIRTY

  “Do you actually believe my father cares whether I live or die, Uncle?” Maleela snapped.

  She was wrapped in a heavy bearskin robe. The autumn wind was harsh, lashing specks of ice across the Dragon’s Bane. The prow broke the waves as a small flock of gulls floated off the port side. The waters were capped in white froth.

  Bahr kept his gaze on the darkening horizon. It was the same argument they’d been having since setting sail. “You know how I feel about your father.”

  “Why do you insist on returning me to him?”

  Her voice strained from the hours spent crying. She cringed at the thought of the horrors her father was capable of unleashing. Ever she’d been a thorn in his side. He sought conquest and fortune while she desired only peace and the chance to live life like her mother would have wanted. All of that was lost now. War had come.

  Bahr wasn’t sure how to respond this time. He loved Maleela like a daughter, making it harder to do what must be done. He suffered, felt her pain. Worse, he didn’t know what to tell her to calm her down.

  “Nothing has gone right since I accepted Harnin’s offer,” he finally said. “All I wanted was to save you from your kidnappers. I never dared to dream that you had fallen in love with young Aurec. The whole mess is a disaster.”

  She reached out to touch hi
s hand. “He’s given me everything my father never found it in his heart to do.”

  “Everything except a father’s love.”

  Maleela forced a smile. “You’ve done that.”

  “Ah lass, if only you’d been born mine.”

  “Uncle, you and I both know there is no point in wondering what if.”

  He gave her an approving look. “You’ve grown into a fine woman. Your mother would have been proud.”

  A small tear escaped the corner of her eye. “Don’t take me back. I cannot live with that man. His hate gnaws away at my soul.”

  “I’m sorry Maleela, but I just can’t see the alternative. Returning you back to Badron can end the war before it begins.”

  “There is another way,” she carefully said.

  “How do you mean?”

  She cleared her throat and met the questions in his eyes. “More people are opposed to my father’s rule than you might think. A movement is underway to remove him from the throne and repair our kingdom.”

  “That’s treason!” Bahr blurted out.

  He never thought he’d see the day when his niece would advocate overthrowing her own father. Worse, he hadn’t even heard so much as a whisper of this movement until now. Bahr suddenly felt as if the wind was knocked out of him.

  “What are you talking about?” He struggled to keep the rest of the crew from hearing the shock in his voice.

  Maleela stole a glance around the deck. All it took was the wrong person finding out and it was all over. “Please keep your voice down. I do not know who I can trust yet.”

  “At least you’re smart enough to recognize that much. Harnin has at least one agent aboard.” He left out the part about the murder at the beginning of the voyage.

  “Harnin is almost as much of a threat as my father. He wants the throne for himself.”

  “He’s been your father’s closest supporter for years,” Bahr reasoned. “I can’t believe such.”

  “He agrees with everything my father says and does but I have seen the secret longing in his eyes. He wishes to make his own name. Harnin would sell out in a heartbeat and steal the throne.”

  “How do you know of this?”

  “One of the council of lords has joined us. It was he who helped Aurec to get inside Chadra Keep. He’s grown tired of the subtle tyranny my father represents. And no Uncle, I am not going to give you his name. Not yet at any rate. Let it suffice to know that the underground is growing and we have friends.”

  “All of this means nothing now, I am afraid. The Wolfsreik should be ready to march by now. Harnin gave us a timeline and we’re already past due. Badron will surely have deployed the Wolfsreik by now.”

  The color drained from her face. She whispered, “Then it is already too late.”

  “I’m afraid so. The wizard tells me that Badron has already started his war,” Bahr said in a voice laden with regret.

  He naturally assumed a hefty portion of the blame. Bahr understood his brother’s appetites more than anyone and had done nothing to stop them.

  “We can still take the kingdom and deny my father the resources he needs,” she quickly replied.

  He shook his head. “You’re going to kill a lot of your countrymen by doing so. The soldiers are people too, regardless of how you view them. They fight because they must. I’d be willing to bet almost none of them know Badron’s true intentions. We cannot abandon them so far from home and in hostile territory. Think this through.”

  “I have. We need to move now and stop my father from destroying both kingdoms. Aurec and his father are kind. Once the Wolfsreik surrenders they will be allowed to return home,” she stated tersely.

  Bahr scowled at his niece. She’d grown much since the innocent child he fondly recalled. Life had been unkind to her and it showed in her actions. “How do you plan on stopping this without destroying our own home?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  *****

  Ionascu threw the empty bottle against the bulkhead and reached for another. Drunk, he only wanted to get drunker. Sleep beckoned, but every time he closed his eyes he watched the slaughter of his men. They glared accusingly. Ghosts demanded to know why he lived and they didn’t. Ionascu drank deeply and fought back the tears. Dead. They were all dead.

  “For what?” he shouted.

  Footsteps came from behind.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Ionascu spun to find Dorl Theed near. He swung his head sorrowfully. “We didn’t even kill the prince.”

  Dorl noticed the half-empty bottle in his hands and the stench of alcohol. He sighed and slouched down against his better judgment. “I didn’t know the prince was chasing us.”

  “The boy led the attack. We killed a few, but the rest slaughtered my men. I should have died with them, Dorl.”

  Dorl Theed didn’t really have the time to worry about a man who only felt sorry for himself and was a confirmed spy. Still, his heart ached at the thought of the agony Ionascu suffered.

  “We did what had to be done,” Dorl told him. “We all knew the risks from the very beginning. The princess is safe and we’ll be back in Chadra soon.”

  Ionascu glared at him. “Easy for you to say. I didn’t see any of your friends dead in the forest.”

  “I didn’t see any of your men inside the castle when we sprang the princess. You need to put that bottle down and get some sleep,” Dorl snapped.

  “Get away from me and mind your own business.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. Both men were on the verge of coming to blows. It was Dorl who finally gave in. He rose and stalked away. Ionascu took another long drink.

  *****

  “What was all of that about?” Nothol Coll asked his friend once he was back on deck.

  Dorl cast an angry glance back down the stairs. “Nothing. I figured he needed to get the pain off of his chest.”

  “And?”

  “Guess I was wrong. What’s going on up here?”

  Nothol said, “Bahr wants us to meet him in his cabin. He claims to have some new information to share with us.”

  “Did he say about what?”

  “No, and he’s being too secretive about it for my liking.”

  The sell sword looked unexpectedly at his friend. “That doesn’t sound like you. You’re supposed to be the sensible one.”

  “Come on, we’re already late,” Nothol replied.

  Last to enter, Dorl frowned when he realized there were no more seats. His legs were sore and he still wasn’t used to the rock and sway of the ocean. Damned boats, he cursed for the hundredth time that day. Folding his arms across his chest, Dorl leaned against the nearest wall and looked around. There were no smiles. An air of anxiousness clung like smoke to the air. He felt like a tiny island on the edge of a hurricane.

  “Close the door,” Bahr instructed.

  Anienam Keiss waited for the cedar door to snap shut before whispering the words of a concealment spell. He gave Bahr the go-ahead once he was satisfied their words were shielded.

  “I’m going to get straight to the point. Matters have changed drastically for us.”

  “In one day?” Dorl asked skeptically.

  “Yes. In one day. Princess Maleela has informed me that her father has always intended on going to war with Rogscroft. What we did holds no bearing whatsoever. Further complicating matters is a group of growing dissidents who want Badron removed from the throne.”

  “How close is this to civil war?” Boen asked.

  The Gaimosian had no intentions of becoming embroiled in a civil war. His loyalties to Bahr only stretched so far.

  “I don’t know but the outcome will be disastrous if it comes to that. Badron will tear Delranan apart to regain total control.”

  Rekka Jel added in a quiet voice, “It is the people who will suffer.”

  Bahr agreed. “I can’t allow him to do this for that reason. A rebellion must not take place.”

  Maleela stifled a gasp fro
m the corner she sat in.

  “What do you need from us?” Nothol asked.

  “Your help. We land in Delranan in two days. Princess Maleela will take me to the leaders of the underground where I will try to talk them out of their decisions.”

  “Uncle, you can’t!” she blurted out.

  Collective shock rippled through them. Bahr felt his carefully crafted deception crumble around him. Mouths dropped open. Eyes opened wide.

  Dorl was the first to react. “Did she just…?”

  Bahr was left with no choice but to confront. “Yes. Badron is my brother.”

  The sell sword blinked twice. “Whoa.”

  “My brother and I have never liked one another. We came to an agreement long ago. He stays out of my way and I leave him alone. He rules Delranan and I have the seas. It’s been that way for almost thirty years.”

  “Who is the older brother?” Boen guessed.

  “I am.”

  The admission would carry potential repercussions for months to come if it left the ship. Even Nothol Coll’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “So you should be king,” he stammered.

  Bahr offered a sad smile. “My father did not see it so, and his decision is one I feel perfectly fine with. I have never wanted to be king. It is not in my nature.”

  Maleela, suddenly weighted with guilt, stood. “Uncle Bahr, I apologize for what I said but you have a chance to put an end to this madness. The oldest son should be king. You are the heir to the throne, not my father.”

  “It is an empty throne. I would not take it if there was no other choice,” he argued perhaps a little too harshly.

  Anienam Keiss added, “It appears to me that there is no other choice. The future of Delranan may well rest in your hands.”

  “I said I don’t want it. I may not have much love or respect for my brother, but I will not be branded a traitor.”

  “If Badron tears his kingdom apart and you do nothing to stop it, won’t that make you a traitor to your people?” the wizard pressed. “There comes a time in all of our lives when we must look beyond the borders of our own constraints. It is for the greater good.”