King's Warrior (The Minstrel's Song Book 1)

by Jenelle Leanne Schmidt

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “Well, sir, our food supply was low, so me, Jaret, and Raelf split off from the party to do some hunting. We hadn’t much luck, when we came upon the trail of two travelers. We followed them because we didn’t know if they were a threat to our purposes or not. It was dark when we approached, and we were surprised to discover that our prey was alone, and a girl. Uncertain as to what we should do, I assured the girl that we meant her no harm, but she had either seen or heard about what had happened at Peak’s Shadow, and she knew that we were Dark Warriors, as they call us. She was proud and defiant, and we knew that we could not simply threaten her to silence. She carried a sword and Jaret tried to disarm her, but she could wield her blade and she surprised Jaret with her skill. We eventually subdued the girl with a blow to her head, and then we didn’t know exactly what we should do with her. We couldn’t just leave her, as she would eventually waken and warn her countrymen. We couldn’t kill her, unconscious as she was, and we certainly didn’t want to drag her along with us. It was then that two men attacked us. They came out of nowhere, sir, they just materialized out of the trees and they fought well. The big one killed Raelf, and the younger one wounded Jaret. I turned to face the taller one, but...” the man trailed off. Silence hung in the room like a tangible thing. “I opted to try to get Jaret to safety. I got him back to camp and left him to mend. Then using one of the long-boats I made my way back to Roalthae to report my findings.”

  “Why did you run, Kyan?” Seamas’ voice cut like a blast of frigid air through the room.

  “I - I had to, Sire... the man we faced... it could have been you.”

  “What?” Seamas and Tobias both stared at the man.

  “What do you mean?” Tobias asked after another long moment of silence.

  “He... he looked just like the king,” Kyan replied. “I thought it was the king, I didn’t understand... I was surprised to see you here, Your Majesty, I thought you were... but now I see it couldn’t have been. I was mistaken, a trick of the light, the Toreth, the forest, the shadows... forgive me, I became confused.” The man knelt, awaiting punishment.

  “You have done well, Kyan,” Seamas said. “Get some rest and then make ready to invade Aom-igh.”

  “Sire?”

  “Do not question me,” Seamas’ voice thundered down the hall. Kyan rose, bowed at the waist, and hastily exited the room.

  When he was gone, Seamas turned to his trusted adviser, a strange gleam in his eye. “Tobias, my friend, they have found him.”

  chapter

  SEVENTEEN

  A scout had returned to Ayollan to report to King Arnaud that the enemy warriors were making ready to board their ships. Weapons and other supplies and horses were being loaded onto the Roalthaen vessels.

  “They plan to set sail in two days, Sire,” the scout reported.

  Arnaud took this news stoically and issued orders to his men to get some rest but to remain ready; the period of waiting was nearly over. He was walking the eastern wall when Zara came out to speak with him. She looked lovely, but troubled. Her forehead was creased with a worried frown, and her eyes had a stormy look in them.

  “What is wrong?” Arnaud asked.

  “There are people in the Throne Room who seek audience with you,” Zara said in clipped tones.

  “What do they want?”

  Zara turned her eyes up towards him; there was a flame of absolute fury written across her face now. “They want... no, I will let them explain it to you.”

  Arnaud hurried after her as she walked with long, purposeful strides towards the Throne Room. As he followed her, he wondered what could have happened to make Zara so angry; he was certain he had never seen her so furious in all the years that he had known her. At the door, Zara halted.

  “You attempt to put sense into their heads, I have already tried,” she said.

  Arnaud nodded, and then, trying to hide how mystified he felt, he entered. As he came through the doors onto the dais, he found five very fashionably and expensively dressed courtiers. He silently placed their names with their faces: Baron Sauterly of Drayedon, the Duke and Duchess Frantell of Coeyallin, Baron Yatensea of Urith, and Duchess Selynda of Zrheden. They were well-known to Arnaud. They were young, idealistic, and keenly interested in affairs of state.

  Arnaud nodded at them with cautious cordiality. “Ladies, gentlemen.”

  He waited silently, letting them take the floor. They shifted and exchanged glances, as though unsure how to begin.

  Finally, after a long pause, Baron Yatensea spoke, “Your Majesty, we come representing many of our fellow citizens, and ask that you bear this in mind when you hear our suggestion. For starters, we, all of us here, are of the opinion that you have placed the people of Aom-igh at risk of war, without pursuing every avenue of peace available to you.”

  Arnaud’s face tightened, but he remained silent. Yatensea winced visibly, but continued to press on, hurrying to make his point before anyone interrupted him.

  “No one we know has ever journeyed as far as the Dark Country, and as far as we know, no one from the Dark Country has ever journeyed to our fair Aom-igh. We do not know if the Dark Country or the Dark Warriors truly mean us harm. We could be needlessly launching ourselves into a bloody battle that we will regret later.

  “Our plan is simple and involves no risk to anyone but ourselves. We propose that we be granted a small ship. We wish to sail to Roalthae and seek an audience with the leader of the Dark Country to sue for peace. If we succeed, we may be able to avoid much suffering.”

  Arnaud’s eyes filled with sorrow and he spoke quietly, “The time for speaking of peace has passed. Perhaps you are right, perhaps I have not looked hard enough for a peaceful solution. Perhaps I simply focused on the threat too much and missed the opportunity for peace. However, these have been my decisions, and now that moment, if it ever existed, is gone.”

  “We do not believe that is true. It is never too late to speak of peace,” Baron Yatensea pressed.

  “I have always seen you as an honorable man, Ryen,” Arnaud said. “It seems I misjudged you. I never would have expected you to stir up a rebellion against me.”

  “No, Your Majesty!” The Duchess Selynda exclaimed in horror, her pretty blue eyes widening. “You do us all a grave injustice, Sire. Our first loyalty is, as ever, to you and our country. Our mission is not a bid for power, though I can understand why you might jump to that conclusion. We truly wish only for peace. We do not wish to see anyone die needlessly, and we believe very strongly that the coming violence can be avoided if we can just find out what it is that the Dark Warriors want.”

  Duchess Frantell spoke up, “If we succeed it will say nothing against you at all, it will instead laud your wisdom at being able to listen to the advice of others who perhaps see things differently than you. Our view is that you may have been perhaps a little too hasty in your decision to prepare for war when we do not know the true intent of the Dark Country, but that is nothing against you as a ruler, rather it shows your desire to protect the people of our fair land, that could only ever be construed as a credit to you, Sire.”

  Arnaud’s spoke quietly, “What about the events at Peak’s Shadow do you not understand? What possible intent could justify the murder of those peace-loving families? Is that not enough to persuade you of your own folly? Do you truly not understand? You charge me with placing the people of Aom-igh at risk of war while the enemy is already here and has struck! War is upon us, and not by my choice. Weeks of agonizing study and the intelligence from our scouts has confirmed this. I do not seek battle, but only a careless fool would allow his people to remain unprepared. Whomever you claim to represent, know this for certain: their King is no fool. For this reason alone I cannot allow you this foolhardy attempt. You will be murdered as certainly as the families of Peak’s Shadow.”

  The courtiers looked down. None of them spoke for a long moment. But then Duke Frantel
l spoke up.

  “Yes, Your Majesty, we have considered that possibility. We know this mission could go awry. We know we could end up in a very dangerous situation; we know we may even be killed. But we have considered that with care, we have all set our affairs in order, and we have decided it is worth the risk. The benefits of our possible success far outweigh the cost of our possible failure.”

  Arnaud shook his head in disbelief. “You are willing to foolishly trade your own lives for the mere possibility of peace, even though everything in the world is telling you that it is a hopeless endeavor? And what if your sacrifice does not save anyone?”

  “You would not even let us try? You would not even consider the possibility of our success?” Duchess Selynda’s voice conveyed her shock.

  Arnaud looked at her solemnly. “No, foolish lady, I would not. I thought your intent was to undermine your King, but I have misjudged you, and I beg your pardon. But that aside, however genuine your purpose, I cannot allow you to attempt this needless and useless waste of lives that I indeed value.”

  “You think there is no chance of it working.” Selynda said flatly. “What do you know? You have spent too much time reading dusty journals about the past. There is the possibility that much has changed in the Dark Country since those words were penned, it has been over five hundred years since anyone made contact with the people of the Dark Country.”

  “What I know or don’t know regarding the Dark Warriors will soon be revealed, but this much is certain: such a plan as yours is doomed for disaster, and I would spare you that,” Arnaud replied.

  “Well,” Baron Sauterly said, “we have asked for your permission and we have listened to your arguments against our plans. You do not believe that our mission will work; you do not believe that there is any way to prevent this war from happening. That is your prerogative as king and commander of our military forces. However, we know what we are up against and we are willing to take the risk.”

  Arnaud shook his head. “I will not keep you here against your will, but you have my command to desist from this madness. Heed the wisdom that has been offered.”

  The five courtiers bowed.

  “We understand, Your Majesty,” Baron Sauterly said.

  They departed without presenting any further arguments. Arnaud watched them go, suspicion in his thoughts. They were taking his decision far better than he had expected. He thought they would at least try to talk him into giving them a ship; instead, they almost seemed relieved at his words. That could only mean one thing: they already had a ship at their disposal. He sent a message to the Port Command with instructions that no vessels could leave or enter without written permission from the King under threat of death!

  Arnaud then called for Garen, and they saddled up their fastest horses and made for Port Aolla. Arnaud sensed disaster and wished to prevent it if possible. When they were in sight of the Harbor, his urgency accelerated and Arnaud out-paced his Guard. The Captain of the Port Command met Arnaud at the quay and handed him his sword. Arnaud was startled as the man kneeled before him.

  “What is all this?” Arnaud demanded. “What is the meaning of all this? I don’t have time for this ceremony. There are five nobles headed this way bent on their own destruction and under no circumstances are you to let them set sail. Is that understood?”

  The captain nodded. “Only too well, your Lordship. They set sail thirty minutes ago, and just moments ago, I received your message.”

  Now, the king understood the actions of his captain. Arnaud pulled the man to his feet and returned his sword. Looking the man in the eyes, he said, “Your devotion to duty is unmatched and my harbor could be in no better hands than yours. The ‘threat of death’ in my message was meant for the fools who set sail, not for the worthy soldier before me.”

  Arnaud then turned, fighting back tears, not only for the five fools, but for his brave commander whose life had been mistakenly placed in his hands. The thought scared Arnaud, and he learned a hard lesson as his thoughts rebuked him: if you had acted with the same authority when the five were in your chamber, they would still be alive, and your captain would never have been in a position to believe his life was unjustly forfeit. Arnaud’s grief slowly turned to anger, and if his resolve before was uncertain, it was now steel.

  He knew with terrible certainty in his heart that he would never see those five people alive again. Although no one would ever blame him for the deaths of the nobles, he knew that he would always blame himself. Arnaud closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut out the sight of the little boat disappearing over the horizon. A long, deep sigh escaped his lips. Then he opened his eyes and set his jaw. Those five had known their mission was doomed before they even set off. They knew of the merciless raid at Peak’s Shadow. They knew that the Dark Warriors had not hesitated to kill women and children, and yet they had insisted upon trying to talk of peace with the enemy. He had warned them of the vicious nature of the Dark Warriors, and yet they had stubbornly insisted upon sailing off on their fool’s errand anyway.

  In a way, Arnaud found that he was forced to admire their courage and their deep love for peace. He even admired their willingness to throw away everything for what they considered to be a higher goal. But he could not condone the actions that had placed a good man in harm’s way, and may well endanger many other innocents when before all was said and done.

  “Sir Garen,” Arnaud barked, “send out runners to evacuate this town. I want everyone relocated by tomorrow morning, we’re running out of time. Our enemy is coming in ships, and this port is surely their destination.”

  “Will we be setting up a defense in the town?” Garen asked, he knew as well as the king that they did not have the ships or the sailors to be able to make any kind of attack at sea.

  Arnaud shook his head. “No, we will stick to the plan and set up our defense with our backs to Fortress Hill. We will make them come to us.”

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  Oraeyn shifted with impatience as he watched Brant move forward with painstaking care. They were following the Farrendell River through the Mountains of Dusk, and Brant had warned them to follow his movements and proceed with extreme caution. The Farrendell wound its way through the mountain pass with rapids and falls and the path was slippery and treacherous. A misstep could prove fatal.

  They were forced to dismount and lead their horses as they traveled this part of their journey. Brant went first, testing the ground and cautioning the others. He alerted them to loose rocks and soft sections of the trail. Several times he almost fell himself, but he was always able to jerk himself back upright and continue on. The rest were grateful for their guide, and they attended to his directions closely. They traveled in silence for the most part, each of them focusing their full concentration on the path before them. The result was a solemn and somber group as they trekked through the pass. The foremost thought in each of their minds was the wish to get through the mountains and past this dangerous part of the journey.

  The river was on their right, rushing and swirling mere inches below them. Immediately to their left was a sheer rock cliff that wanted to crowd them off the trail and into the roaring river. The trail was only about four feet wide, and that left little room for mistakes, especially with the horses.

  Brant had not wanted to travel along this path; he had warned them that the trail was treacherous and difficult, but Leila and Dylanna had declared that it was the fastest and most direct route back to Ayollan. Brant had given in, having no desire to waste any more time arguing about it, but it was clear he was not happy with their decision. Oraeyn was starting to believe Brant had been correct about the trail; it was too dangerous to be attempted. Whatever time they could have gained because this path was the quickest road to Ayollan they lost because of their travel speed, or lack thereof. Oraeyn was also worried about any attack they might face as they traveled along the riverbank. If Dark Warriors, or any other villains, were to attack them here, they would have
nowhere to turn.

  Suddenly Brant held up a hand and the party halted, wondering what had happened. Brant took a few more steps forward, then turned around. Oraeyn could not see past the man and could not see what was wrong, but Brant’s face was grim and set. The man’s eyes told Oraeyn that there was something ahead that he did not like and did not want to face.

  “The trail has been washed away,” Brant declared in a voice loud enough for all of them to hear. “Up ahead of us, perhaps a dozen more paces or so, the water has carved away at the path and at the mountain. There is a shallow cave in the side of the cliff face, but the path is completely gone.”

  Dylanna spoke up in concern, “How much of the path has been washed away?”

  Brant shook his head. “I don’t know for sure, it looks like a width of ten to fifteen feet or so before the path reappears above water.”

  Dylanna pursed her lips. “That’s not a very big gap. We will just have to swim across then.”

  Brant glared. “It’s too dangerous to attempt, I say we turn back, the current is strong and it may be too much for the horses to cross, let alone us, and I can assure you that some in our party are not strong enough to make it across.”

  “Of course you would want to turn back, you did not want to take this path in the first place,” Dylanna said, her voice turning stubborn. “I say we cross. It is not like we are trying to cross the river itself where the current could wash us downstream.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Brant maintained. “The current could drag us into the cave beneath the cliffs, and there would be no way of swimming out again.”

  “We are running out of time, we must get back to Ayollan with all speed, we are more than halfway through the mountains by now, if we turn back, we lose a whole day that we cannot spare.”

  Brant’s mouth tightened into a thin, angry line and his eyes narrowed. “All right, I will get you all across the river, but we do it my way.”