Knights of Alcea
Book 1 of Demonstone Chronicles
by
Richard S. Tuttle
Copyright © 2006 by Richard S. Tuttle.
All rights reserved.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Prologue
For years the Darkness shrouded the world causing fields to wither and die. Forest growth halted and animal life grew scarce and lean. The bounty of the sea diminished to the point where fishermen had trouble feeding their families. To add to the misery of the peoples of the world, rogue armies took control of the lands as governments fell and perished. Banditry ran rampant and people kept to their homes in fear of their lives.
Out of this era of desperation and misery arose the son of a fisherman, a seemingly simple lad born in a small village on the coast of Sordoa, but the future of the world had been waiting for him. After seventeen years of being a fisherman's only son, Arik Clava was thrust into a world of danger and set on a perilous quest to destroy the Darkness. Accompanied by others his own age, and guided by a strange pair of gypsies, Arik would grow into the Warrior King, and his companions would become the Knights of Alcea.
Arik was given the Sword of Heavens, a magical artifact that would vanquish a portion of the Darkness with each gem restored to its hilt, but the gems did not come easy. The Knights of Alcea were constantly hunted by the minions of Sarac, an evil mage with vast powers, but each gem also brought new allies sworn to the boy king. Fairies, unicorns, dwarves, elves, and even dragons eventually swore allegiance to Arik, but Sarac's forces were even greater in number. Huge armies of men, goblins, ogres, and yaki swarmed over the land to prevent the boy king from fulfilling the ancient prophecy. As the great armies of Sarac swept across the continent, the fragile land was further beaten down until food became a precious commodity.
In the end, King Arik and the Knights of Alcea won the day. All of the land was united under the banner of the Warrior King, and the evil Sarac and his minions were destroyed, but the cost was great. The land was barren and bloodstained. Fishermen had no boats, and farmers lacked implements to coax life into the soil. Tradesmen had no shops, and merchants had nothing to sell. It seemed as though the only profession with a steady stream of customers were the healers, and they had more than they could handle.
For three years the people of Alcea toiled to reclaim their lives, and many were well on the way to recovery, but others were not. While peace reigned over the land, and the skies were no longer tainted by the Darkness, many people were lured to a new religion. The Temples of Balmak began to appear, and the priests offered a vision of paradise that proved tempting to many. It didn't matter to those who sought refuge from misery that Balmak was an unknown god. What mattered to them was the thin sliver of hope for a better existence.
In Tagaret, the capital of Alcea, King Arik and Queen Tanya worked tirelessly to rebuild the kingdom. Prince Oscar's vast fortune was spent trying to help the provinces get back on their feet, but even he did not have enough gold to cure all of the ills of the devastated kingdom.
The Knights of Alcea did not disband, but neither did they still exist as a group. Each Knight went his own way, trying to rebuild his life after years of continuous battle. Wylan and Sheri moved to Southland, the boyhood home of Wylan. Tedi and Natia spent all their time with the gypsies, and Alexander and Jenneva retired to Atar's Cove. Prince Garong returned to the elves of Elderal, and Prince Darok settled back into the dwarven caves of Lanto. Bin-lu returned home to Lanoir. Only Fredrik and Niki remained in Tagaret with the king and queen. Fredrik was appointed the Royal Sorcerer, and his wife, Niki, became his assistant.
Little did anyone know that storm clouds were massing on the horizon, and that the hard years of rebuilding Alcea were about to look like a short interlude of peace between great wars.
Chapter 1
Senseless Death
Hega was a small town in the Cordonian Province of Alcea. Its citizens made their living selling furs and lumber. Being one of the northernmost cities in the new nation of Alcea, its winters were harsh, and its summers were short. It was a small community where everyone knew everyone else, and the affairs of the rest of the world had little impact on the people of Hega. The only outside influence in the last generation had been the clearing of the skies more than three years earlier. The return of the sun promoted growth in the trees and the animals, and that pleased Karl Gree.
Karl was a seventh-generation hunter of the Gree family, and he knew his trade well. Even during the years of darkness, his father had no trouble providing for his family, and Karl managed to learn all that his father knew before the younger Gree took a wife. It was a simple life, but a satisfying one for Karl and Lyda.
"You look tired this morning," Lyda said as Karl drank a cup of milk and pulled his boots on. "You should get more rest. There are still two hours before dawn."
"I want to hunt the far meadow today," Karl smiled lovingly at his wife. "I saw large bear tracks heading out that way yesterday. The time to strike is now before the first snow comes. If I get an early enough start, I will be able to make it home to bed tonight, otherwise I will need to sleep in the forest. You aren't trying to get rid of me, are you?"
Lyda stopped stirring the pot and walked over to her husband. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him passionately.
"Never," she smiled. "I just don't want you getting sick. You need to spend more time in bed."
Karl kissed Lyda and rose to his feet. "Everyone warned us to get married just before winter so we could spend our first months together," he chuckled. "We'll have more time to spend together real soon. I have to make the best of the hunting season while it lasts."
"I know," sighed Lyda. "Is your father going with you?"
"Not today," Karl shook his head and frowned. "In fact, I promised that we would share some milk with them today. I should have gotten up earlier."
"I will take care of it," offered Lyda. "You go get that early start and come home tonight if you can."
"Thanks," smiled Karl as he leaned over and kissed Lyda again. "Make sure you do it early. Mother likes milk for the morning meal."
"I will tend to it right after you leave and take it over there as soon as the sun rises," promised Lyda. "Good luck."
"Getting a bear does not involve luck," grinned Karl as he picked up his bow and quiver. "I will try to be back tonight."
Lyda smiled and waved as Karl left the small hut and tromped off into the night. She hummed happily as she finished preparing the stew and set it to simmer. She looked out the single window in the small home and saw that the sky was beginning to lighten. Grabbing a pail, she left the hut and skipped around to the rear of the house. Tethered on a long rope was a brown cow, and Lyda beamed with pride as she saw it. There were only a handful of cows in the small town, and it pleased Lyda to be the owner of one of them.
Lyda filled the bucket with milk and started off towards the road to town. It wasn't much of a road, but there was little need for anything better. There were about as many horses in Hega as there were cows and only two wagons. Most of the citizens of Hega had never been farther than five miles from the town. There was little need for roads except for the occasional merchant and the timber wagons that came up once a month.
Lyda started singing a joyous tune as she walked down the center of the road. She smiled as she saw the sun begin to peek over the distant mountains. She always marveled at the beautiful colors the clouds turned at sunrise, and this day was no exception. When she reached the center of the town, neighbors began to say hello to her. Everyone in Hega rose early, and the town was a beehive of acti
vity. Lyda smiled and waved to everyone as she walked down the center of the road towards the house of Karl's parents.
Suddenly, Lyda heard the dull roar of thunder, and she halted. Her eyes rose to the sky, and her brow creased with confusion. The clouds were light and fluffy, but the thunder increased in intensity. She put down the pail of milk and shaded her eyes with her hand as she gazed at the sky.
"Riders!" shouted an old man. "Get out of the road, Lyda."
Lyda lowered her eyes and saw the riders coming towards her. Her mouth opened in surprise at the large number of horses being ridden towards the town. She had never seen that many horses at one time before, and she stared in awe. There appeared to be more riders than people in all of Hega. As Lyda remained frozen in the middle of the road, the riders peeled off the road to each side of the town. She stared at the men in confusion and wondered what they were doing.
As the riders spread around the buildings of the town, the first screams split the air. The riders shouted loud, unintelligible words, but it was the screams of death that filled Lyda's ears. The young woman wanted to race out of the town and hide in her hut, but her feet would not move. Her eyes grew large and her mouth fell open as she watched the men shoot arrows into anyone they saw. Friends and neighbors fell to the street with blood-curdling screams, and Lyda's legs began to shake violently as fear gripped her heart.
Suddenly, the riders were everywhere. They were behind the buildings and racing up and down the road through the town. Dozens of them rode right past her. She tried to close her eyes as she waited for the sting of the arrow that would kill her, but her eyes refused to close, and she was forced to watch as the riders killed everyone. Not content to just kill the citizens, the riders shot fiery arrows into the buildings and soon the entire town was ablaze.
As the heat of the inferno began to sear her skin, two riders dismounted right in front of Lyda. They stared into her face and then turned to gaze at the flames. That was when Lyda saw the elven ears. She tried to plead for mercy, but no words escaped her throat. Inexplicably, the two elves moved off without harming Lyda. As the town of Hega burned around her, the elves mounted their horses and slowly rode past her and out of town. Lyda's eyes flicked from rider to rider as the elves rode by, and still she could not move from the center of the road. Within minutes the only sounds in Hega were the crackling of the fires as the buildings of the town collapsed into fiery heaps of rubble. Soon after the elves were gone, Lyda's legs gave out, and she fell to the ground as she passed out.
When the young woman awoke, Hega no longer existed. Lyda gazed around the burnt town, hoping that she was deep within a nightmare. She struggled to her knees and then to her feet. Lyda left her pail of milk in the road and slowly walked through the destroyed town. She examined the bodies of her neighbors, hesitantly at first, but with increasing despair as she searched for anyone alive. Only after Lyda had walked the entire length of the town did the first tear arrive.
Lyda screamed in anguish as she fell to her knees, and the tears started flowing. Only she had survived the slaughter.
* * *
Rut-ki was a petite woman with shiny, black hair cut short in a boyish manner. Her black almond-shaped eyes were clear and devoid of emotion. Her lips were set firm in neither a smile nor a frown, as if her mind was a thousand miles away. Rut-ki looked more like a young girl who sold fish and rice at a stall in the marketplace than a master instructor of martial arts in the Imperial Palace of Lanoir.
Rut-ki watched silently as nine warriors filed into the training room. Each of the pupils bowed with respect to Rut-ki as they entered the room and sat on the floor. The warriors bowed their heads in meditation as they awaited the instructions for the day's lesson. Rut-ki waited until the men were settled before walking to the corner of the room and moving a human-sized dummy to the center of the room.
"Today we will practice the flying kick," announced Rut-ki, "but with a twist."
The nine students immediately raised their heads and gave their instructor their complete attention.
"I need two of you to hold the dummy while I demonstrate," declared Rut-ki.
Two of the warriors rose and held the dummy from the sides. Rut-ki nodded and continued her instruction.
"When you are facing a lone opponent," she continued, "the flying kick can be a potent maneuver, but in certain situations it can leave you more vulnerable than before. This is particularly true when there are multiple opponents. Today I will show you a technique to lessen that vulnerability. There are many variations of this technique, and we will learn them all over the course of the next few sessions. We will begin with the simplest of the variations. I need another volunteer."
Another warrior rose to volunteer and Rut-ki positioned him so that she was equidistant between the volunteer and the dummy.
"For this exercise, I will face two opponents," explained Rut-ki. "I will strike a blow to one and simulate a strike to the second. Tomorrow I will secure a second training dummy so that we are able to perfect both strikes. Observe."
Rut-ki took three quick strides towards the dummy and leaped into the air. Her right foot streaked outward and smashed into the chest of the training dummy, causing the men holding it to struggle to maintain their balance. Instead of riding through the kick as normally demonstrated, Rut-ki's left foot struck a second later as she used the dummy to reverse her momentum. Her hands hit the floor and her legs flipped over her head. As her feet touched the floor, Rut-ki leaned forward and dove towards the volunteer. She rolled into a ball and rose swiftly with her right arm streaking upward. The fingertips of her right hand stopped an inch from the volunteer's throat.
"Any questions?" asked Rut-ki.
One of the men holding the dummy raised his hand and Rut-ki nodded at him.
"You used the bulk of your first target to propel you backwards," stated the warrior. "What if the target was a scrawny man? You would not succeed."
"If it were a scrawny man," smiled Rut-ki, "you would have no need for a flying kick. Also note that I used a kick to the chest of the dummy. A kick to the head or neck would be more lethal, but it would not offer the momentum needed for the recovery. Always remember to measure your opponents. Each technique has pros and cons. That is why I will teach them all to you."
The warrior nodded with understanding, and the instructor waited for any other questions. There were none. Rut-ki opened her mouth to give further instruction when the door opened and a soldier entered. The soldier bowed to Rut-ki and then crossed the room and handed her a slip of paper. Rut-ki read the paper and then examined the new arrival.
"Have you had prior training, Wei-ra?" Rut-ki asked.
"A little," Wei-ra answered. "Certainly nothing comparable to the quality of the Imperial Palace, but I am a quick learner."
"We shall see," Rut-ki replied without emotion. "Join the rest and let us begin the warm-up exercises."
As the warriors began exercising, Rut-ki stepped away and observed. When the exercises were complete, the warriors returned to their seated positions. Rut-ki again asked for volunteers and performed another demonstration. Again she asked for questions, but there were none.
"Now you shall have a chance to practice the new technique," announced Rut-ki. "Two will hold the dummy. There will be no second opponent for today. You are to imagine one present. Remember to strike the chest of the dummy. Begin."
The first two men in line held the dummy while the rest tried the technique. Rut-ki watched silently. When all eight of the men had attempted the technique, the third and fourth held the dummy and everyone tried it again. Rut-ki watched dispassionately, but a frown marred her face when the new man changed position with another warrior. Instead of being the tenth man in line, he wound up being the eighth. The order of the warriors did not carry any significance, but the move disturbed Rut-ki for some reason.
It was when the ninth and tenth warriors were holding the dummy that disaster struck. Wei-ra missed the dummy with his flying kick.
The newcomer's foot smashed into the throat of one of the men holding the dummy. The stricken man fell to the floor with a gurgling sound, and Rut-ki rushed to his side. The man was dead.
"A thousand pardons, Instructor," bowed Wei-ra. "My footing slipped as I launched into the kick. Will he be all right?"
Rut-ki rose and turned to face the newcomer. She peered into his eyes as if trying to read his thoughts, but the man's face was a mask of concern.
"Begin meditation," Rut-ki said calmly.
The warriors hurried to their positions and sat on the floor. They bowed their heads in meditation as Rut-ki crossed the room and opened the door. She slipped into the hallway and snared a passing soldier. She issued terse instructions to the soldier and immediately reentered the training room. Within a few minutes, three soldiers entered the training room. Two of the soldiers loaded the body onto a stretcher and carried it away. The third soldier was an officer, and he spoke briefly with Rut-ki before asking for everyone's attention.
"As with any death in training," announced the officer, "there will be an investigation. You nine men will follow me."
The students rose and formed a line. They followed the officer out of the room. Several of them turned to glance at Rut-ki as they left, but her face was emotionless as always. A few minutes after the students left, a young servant entered the room. Rut-ki looked towards the door and frowned at the man. She desired time alone to think about the accident.
"This is a training room for officers," she declared. "You do not belong here. Leave."
The young man closed the door as he entered the room and glanced around.
"I will not tell you again," snapped Rut-ki. "I will not bother to have you arrested. I will deal with you myself if you do not leave immediately. You are not authorized to be here. Leave now."
The servant's eyes glanced around the room examining the training dummy and the instructor with interest. Rut-ki's normally calm demeanor began to fade. Her lips drooped into a determined frown as she walked across the floor towards the obstinate servant. She passed the young man and opened the door to the hallway.
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