Box of Runes An Epic Fantasy Collection

by J. Thorn

  The entrance spanned three city blocks, rising two stories into the air and supported by dozens of columns. Monolithic stone steps led up to the guards, each standing in front of the polished wooden doors. Shane thought about the amount of wealth that it must have taken to build such a feat of architecture.

  “We have the Serpent King and Shane of Gisanti registered for the conference. The stranger cannot enter,” said the guard.

  The Serpent King turned to face Lellan. “Find a pub in this district and wait for us.”

  Lellan saluted his lord general and climbed down the steps towards the nearest wooden sign painted with a mug. He fished some silver from his pocket and ran for the tavern.

  The Serpent King and Shane of Gisanti stepped through the doors into a magnificent room, rectangular in shape and two hundred paces in length, with swaying and golden candelabras hanging from the arched ceiling. Along the sides of the room, walls of mirrored glass stretched from floor to ceiling, and ivory statues on pedestals stood guard. Although they did not know for certain, Shane and the Serpent King figured them for past rulers of the People of the Eagle, or heroes of Risenachen. They followed a group of high-ranking soldiers through the doors at the other end of the room and into a banquet hall.

  A wooden table stood in the middle of the barren room. It had no decoration and was made of simple stone blocks. Its utilitarian design identified the room’s purpose. Others milled about, holding quiet conversations. A dozen chairs were filled, leaving a single chair at the head of the table. When all were seated, a lone figure stepped through the door and marched to the head of the table. He wore the finest armor with medals clanking on his breastplate. Another sentry, of lesser rank, stepped from a dark corner and stood beside the newcomer. Waiting for the room to fall silent, the guard spoke.

  “I now introduce to you Tepan, Lord Major of the People of the Eagle and loyal charter member of the coalition.”

  Everyone stood and waited for the lord major to sit. They followed his cue.

  “Some of you have traveled great distances to be here. The people of this One World owe you. I am certain that most of you know why we meet. We have seen wild, unpredictable decisions handed down from the inner council of the People of the Sun. Out of their own self-interest, they released all of your subjugated lands from contract. Risenachen celebrated for days with flasks and women.”

  Pockets of contained laughter bubbled up in the room and then disappeared.

  “But then our fair city began to thirst for retribution. Calls in the streets for revenge, for revolution, spread. After all, what would stop the inner council of the People of the Sun from changing its mind and clamping down on its colonies? Nothing but your own fierce desire to be free has brought you here. Our movement, the coalition, has been weak and ineffective. Scouts report that Lord Major Acatel of the Dog People is poised to launch a major offensive on the capital. However, one renegade general does not constitute a revolution. It is one we stand behind, but just one regiment, nonetheless. I call upon you to unite under my leadership and launch an all-out War to the Knife against the People of the Sun. Our goal will be nothing less than total annihilation of their civilization, the slaughter of their men, and the rape of their women. They have abused us for too long, and now we must deliver payback.”

  An uproar of cheers bounced off the stone walls, creating a deafening din of approval. The lord major took a swig from his mug and let the men settle before continuing.

  “I offer my leadership for the cause. I have no intention of establishing a trans-tribal government or seizing control of the One World for the People of the Eagle. This is what we fight. If any of you have these ambitions, leave this room and pledge your services to the People of the Sun. You can then perish with them. Our objective is to fight for our individual freedoms and the freedom to fight the Flowery Wars with each other as our ancestors did. One people cannot rule the One World. Remember my words, fellow soldiers. Punishment will be swift and painful for those with greater ambitions.”

  The Serpent King focused on the lord major. The man carried himself with confidence and charisma. It felt natural that he would step up to lead the forces of the coalition.

  “It is now time to commit your soldiers, resources, and lives to the cause. Our scribes will record the official members of the coalition and disseminate this information throughout the lands. State your name, affiliation, and pledge.”

  The men around the table stood and did as the lord major had instructed. Shane thought that it would be a miracle if these tribes could stay true to the coalition, but victory would be assured if they did. The destruction of the People of the Sun by the coalition meant overflowing coffers of gold for the victors. When the pledge made its way to the Serpent King, he stood and spoke.

  “I am the Serpent King from the Eastern Kingdoms. Shane of Gisanti serves as my right hand. Although we do not bring hundreds of regiments or sophisticated arms, we bring the power of persuasion. The resources of our government across the Great Sea can assure freedom from the People of the Sun for your children’s children. In return, we ask for our share of the spoils. We stand with the coalition and pledge our loyalty to Tepan, Lord Major of the People of the Eagle and charter member of the coalition.”

  A stunned silence filled the room. No other general had put conditions on his membership. The lord major sat and stared at the Serpent King.

  “What need do we have of your government’s support in far-off lands, and why are you entitled to any share of the spoils?”

  “Because I bring weapons beyond your reckoning.”

  “Your mention of these weapons does not make them real.”

  The Serpent King broke into a throaty, wet laugh. “Lord Major, I find your skepticism both disheartening and appropriate for a man of your position. May I demonstrate for you?”

  “By all means,” replied the lord major, both insulted and flattered at the same time.

  The Serpent King turned and faced the guard on the left of the lord major. He did not move or utter a sound. Shuffling and whispers floated through the room, and the lord major shifted his weight on his chair. Without warning, the sentry’s hair exploded into flame. He opened his mouth to scream and his teeth shattered on the floor. The man’s eyes swelled in his skull until an unseen pressure burst them in their sockets. He crumpled to the floor as fire consumed his entire body. The dead guard fell at the feet of the lord major charred, black, and lifeless. Tepan tugged at his robe, clutching it to his chest. His eyes darted around the room, reading the fear in the faces of the others. He did his best to remain composed while the generals around the table gasped in disgust.

  “You have persuaded us with your demonstration. You and your right hand may claim your share of the spoils. If I find that you have violated our agreement, you will meet the wrath of the coalition.” The threat sounded as empty as the Great Waste.

  “I am a man of my word, Lord Major. Consider our covenant sealed.”

  Chapter 30

  Machek wiped the sweat from his forehead as he picked up the mallet and struck the corner of the joint until the tongue slid into the groove. A trench surrounded the perimeter of the structure, water rising to the top. Machek used the technique to ensure that the frame of the building sat level and precise. He pulled pieces of lumber into place and fit one on top of another, filling the holes at the corners with a cement mixture. Machek hoped to finish his client’s structure before he led the Jaguar Knights to war.

  The chief elder stepped over materials and tools to greet Machek.

  “Tonatu,” he said.

  “Tonatu,” replied Machek. “You stray a great distance from the offices of the inner council.”

  “Yes. I was told by some of the commanders that you had returned to work.”

  “What choice do I have, sir? We all must earn a living. Please hand me that piece of wood.”

  The chief elder smirked at Machek’s gentle insult and picked up a floorboard. “I am not here
to work as your apprentice. I have experienced dreams, visions, and I need to talk to you.”

  Machek turned to face the elder. He took a quick swig from his leather flask and sat upon the ground, motioning with one hand and creating circles in the air.

  “Machek, word has traveled back to us from all corners of the former Empire. It arrived on the lips of spies, merchants, traders, vagabonds, and sailors. The One World sits on the edge of chaos, a War to the Knife involving all tribes. Some in the distant city of Risenachen have formed a coalition. They recruit our former subjects to join them as they march to our capital.” The chief elder stopped to add emphasis to his point.

  “Sir, we knew this to be a possible outcome and we have mobilized our forces to prepare for it.”

  “How can we mobilize to fight the entire One World? Mouths speak of a dark stranger from the Great Sea who brings destructive powers beyond our comprehension.”

  “Sir, I am not sure what you want from me. You have honored me with the leadership of our forces. What are you asking me to protect?”

  “Protect your people, your culture, and your history. If the rumors of the coalition are true, we face possible extinction.”

  Machek took another swig from his flask. The cool breeze dried his perspiration and brought the first of his muscle aches.

  “What is your battle plan?” asked the chief elder.

  “I am not sure. The Soothsayer checked the divination and he says we must launch a preemptive strike on the forces moving towards our capital. My instincts tell me to fortify our city and prepare to defend it against a siege. We have enough food and supplies to last a long time.”

  “You think the coalition will tire of the siege and walk away?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Machek. The two men stared at each other.

  “Machek, I do not trust the old man. He has lived on the periphery of our capital for generations with his bizarre rituals. Whatever battle plan you formulate, draw from your experience as a warrior and listen to the gods that speak within you.”

  “Sir, I will make the plans in the way I know. If you trust me enough to hand me the reins, let me ride.”

  The chief elder smiled. He lit his pipe and pointed to the frame of the structure at Machek’s feet. “Your northwest corner slopes a bit to the east. Better check your level.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll do that.”

  ***

  The war machine rumbled to life. The People of the Sun called on their gods, restricted travel, and stockpiled munitions. Dissent in the village commons dwindled away as serious threats emerged. Scouts reported that a coalition force rode a day’s march from the outskirts of the capital, and could attack at any time. Businesses closed, farmers abandoned their crops, and citizens withdrew to the wall around the capital. It provided the most protection, but once inside, the enemy could surround the capital and wait them out.

  “Old man, we need to speak,” said Machek.

  The Soothsayer coughed from inside the tent as he consumed the blue smoke of his pipe. “Enter, Lord Major.”

  “How do you interpret the latest divinations?”

  “The gateways of the entrails show several openings. We must launch a strike on multiple fronts to chase the enemy from our lands.”

  “A wise general never splits his forces.”

  “On a battlefield, that would be the correct choice. However, your forces protect the People of the Sun.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you must consider all possibilities.”

  “I need to think,” said Machek as he left the tent.

  Creases of worry deepened the crevices on the old man’s face.

  Chapter 31

  Sianta moved through the forest with the speed of a doe. She did not see signs of another scouting party, but knew that did not ensure her safety. Sianta passed three camps left by the regiment of the Dog People. The forest changed, and she recognized the first outlying villages of the Empire. Acatel’s destructive march left only destroyed or burned structures. She needed to get ahead of them and to the lord major of the Jaguar Knights.

  The Sun God dropped from the sky and hid behind the towering trees. Sianta had left her village leagues in the distance, and her body had adapted to the primitive surroundings. She crawled under a makeshift shelter and fell into a fitful sleep. Disturbing visions filled her dreamworld.

  ***

  A serpent stood watch over the shifting black sands. Two sides faced each other on a battlefield that stretched across the horizon. Sianta floated in the air, hovering above the impending battle. Generals of both sides sent commands as men began their war chants, and the soldiers behind the serpent morphed into demons. Their eyes blazed red and their mouths turned into snouts, green scales covering their skin as slimy, bony wings sprouted from their backs. A stench of rotting flesh blanketed the dead landscape. The warriors on the other side of the battlefield recoiled in terror. A general on a white steed, the lord major of the force, rode the length of the battle line shouting words of encouragement at his troops. Some dropped their weapons and fled, but most stood their ground and prepared for the imminent attack of the winged demons.

  A thunderous laugh emanated from the serpent. “Fight or flee. Either way I will annihilate you.”

  His demon force howled and beat their wings in anticipation of the carnage. In slow motion, the lord major gave the attack command. The two armies met with a thunderous collision, enough to rattle the Sun God during his journey. Men fought and died at the hands of the demons. They rose up on their wings and descended with talons, tearing flesh and armor to pieces. Fire, blood, and the stench of death rode the stagnant wind.

  “Give up,” Sianta heard a voice say. At first, she could not tell if the sound came from the field of battle or above her. “Give up,” it repeated.

  She spun and saw a dark pinpoint of light in the sky. It grew until the darkness surrounded her. Sianta could still hear the death throes of men and demon below, but total darkness encased her.

  “You will not survive the journey to the lord major. If you attempt it, I will make sure the sounds of your suffering pierce the ears of the unborn.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Sianta, daughter of Shinta, I give you the first and final warning. Abandon your mission and flee through the forest. When the fighting ends, I will spare your life. I promise this to you.”

  “Am I to trust a disembodied voice above the unholy battle beneath me?” She felt two strong hands grab her by the shoulders. They shook her until her neck ached with pain.

  “This is not some game you play in your village, you little slut. Disobey me and you will wish one of those demons had ripped out your heart with its talons.”

  “My mother came to me and told me what to do. She gave me a mission.”

  “Then you will die on it.”

  Sianta wiped a tear from her face. The darkness disappeared and left the conclusion of war at her feet. Bloated bodies littered the battlefield as flies competed for their sustenance. Sianta did not see one slain demon as her eyes moved over thousands of dead warriors. The white steed galloped through the valley without its rider. She could not see his body or any sign of the lord major. As if commanded by the Dark One, the bodies of the dead soldiers rose, some without arms, limbs, or even a head. Black blood oozed from open wounds and those with eyes flashed red beams at Sianta. They moved towards her, arms outstretched.

  ***

  Sianta woke from the dream with a shudder as the first light of the Sun God broke through the forest canopy. She gathered her items and walked to a nearby stream to wash, eating a few nuts and native plants on her way and trying to shake the visions that had tortured her sleep. She stood over a puddle that jumped the banks of the creek. She bent down and looked into the still water, where the reflection of a ragged and dirt-encrusted young woman looked back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw dark smoke creeping in as if black ink had spilled into the puddle.
A sinister laugh echoed in her ears as a shiver racked her body. She slapped the water with her hand and ran back towards the trail leading to the capital.

  Sianta turned off the path of the Dog People’s regiment and away from their trail of misery. To reach the People of the Sun before Acatel, she would need to cut through uncharted forest and get ahead of them. The Sun God guided her through the thickest foliage, sometimes burning her skin from exposure. She came upon a secluded village, the first one she saw that had not been ravaged by Acatel’s forces. Two children chased each other around a pen that held three heads of cattle. Women tended the fields and a group of men repaired a roof on a dwelling. She straightened her ragged clothing and wiped the grime from her face, and she crept towards the village unnoticed.

  Chapter 32

  “They cannot deny you leadership of the coalition.”

  “Control does not always come in the form of official titles and designations.”

  “I could smell the fear in the room,” Shane said, slamming his mug of ale down on the table.

  Musicians stood in a corner of the pub, spinning tales for a sympathetic crowd. An occasional whisper or glance found its way to their table, delighting both the Serpent King and Shane.

  “So what’s next, my lord?”

  “It is important that we give the lord major the illusion that he controls the forces. His vanity will blind him to the fact that he does not.”

  “What of the other generals?”

  “What of them?”

  “Do you think they will accept our unseen hand?”

  “With my demonstration burned to memory, yes, I think they will.” The Serpent King smiled across the table at Shane.

  The pub sat in a central district of Risenachen. Houses of prostitution and gambling halls kept it company on either side. Customers spilled out of one establishment to find themselves losing coin in another. The interior of the pub consisted of varnished wood, dyed dark generations ago. The odor of stale ale, cheap wine, and loose women hung on the walls. Stains hid in the corners, telling tales of drunken altercations. A brash man stumbled past their table, and his leg jostled their drinks, spilling some on the floor.