Razel was dying to share her thoughts. Caspar’s stern looks silenced her.
“Simple co-incidence?” Caspar proffered. This was what Razel wanted to ask.
Talarren shook his head. “Possible, but I don’t believe so. Xertes’ mysterious sickness must be related.”
“But how?” Garth asked. “Do you think Tāhūbād has hired Assassins to poison him?”
“Highly unlikely, Garth,” Caspar said. “Firstly, I doubt even Assassins could infiltrate the might of Xertes and his castle, to bypass his guards, clerics and magicians. Secondly, he has food tasters. All are well.”
There was a silence. Only Razel’s indelicate attempts to cut a layer of fat off her lamb made any sound.
“Do you think these Albatross Mountain orcs are working for Tāhūbād?” Caspar asked.
“You know as well as I, Caspar, that orcs submit only to powers much greater than themselves. Tāhūbād is too far away to threaten them, for now anyway, and they know it. Another way to control them is incentives. Gold, land and slaves are their treasures. Rich beyond compare is the Mugar Empire but I can’t see Tāhūbād handing over his wealth in sufficient quantities to entice orcs to invade Switz. Orcs know a Central Alliance coalition would slaughter any orcish army.”
“If given time,” Garth added, “and this is something we do not have.”
No-one said anything. True, if what Lord Wellington said was right, orcs were two days march from Switz. It was common knowledge Switz’ army was weak, her leadership rife with squabbling. Reinforcments from neighbouring kingdoms would take a week more to mobilise and join them.
Talarren continued. “So who or what is behind these orcs?”
Silence descended once more among those gathered at table. Razel stopped eating. Caspar meticulously trimmed fat off his lamb before placing a neat portion, mixed with a smattering of peas, into his mouth.
Talarren continued. “What’s more, how can such a large orc force mobilise so quickly? It intrigues me that we have not been aware of this.”
“But Talarren,” Caspar reminded him, “those mountains are far from civilisation. There are no trade routes anywhere near there, no outposts, fortresses or patrols stationed within fifty leagues of its deep ravines and high peaks. Switz has not been organised enough to watch their backs. Perhaps these orcs have been planning this for some time?”
Talarren countered, staring blankly at his plate of lamb, peas and chickpeas. “When orcs feel they have superior numbers, they go on raiding parties. It’s how they operate. Try stopping a band of orcs from doing that. This is not normal orc behaviour. It is totally uncharacteristic.”
“Eat, Talarren,” Caspar said. “You must replenish your energy. It is wholesome food.”
Talarren tore off a piece of fresh bread. He dipped it in a large bowl of spiced olive oil and vinegar which sat positioned between him and Razel. He ate hungrily. Razel was doing her level best to eat like the dainty maiden she was sure Caspar expected from her. It nearly killed her. How different from eating roasted quail and deer with Talarren in their wilderness travels, without regard for manners or etiquette. Talarren never minded how she ate. He didn’t say anything, at any rate.
Razel continued to eat with knife and fork, placing acceptable amounts into her mouth, chewing slowly. She felt desperate to rip a chunk of fresh loaf apart, dunk it into an oil and vinegar bowl and stuff it into her mouth, heedless of wayward drops of oil or disobedient crumbs. She shuddered to behold Caspar’s face if her wayward drops of oil and disobedient crumbs littered his smooth table and polished floor.
“Do you think the Sorceress of Llularven has anything to do with any of this?” Caspar asked Talarren.
Talarren pushed lamb around his plate. “How can anyone know, particularly if orcs have kept a low profile? If we had time I could investigate. Perhaps I should. I would also like to join Aelred’s men fighting orcs in Switz. But I am now committed to the Central Alliance second fleet under orders from Lord Wellington, King Xertes’ Regent, to assist Moses Al-Shaddai in his neverending battle against these accursed Mugars.”
“Who exactly is this Sorceress of Llularven?” Garth asked.
Razel was fit to burst to tell him what she knew. Her mentor had bedazzled her and other apprentices with tales involving her and other famous witches, wizards, warlocks and sorceresses. Caspar’s stern face, which seemed to possess an uncanny ability to know when she wanted to speak, frowned her down.
“A story we cannot go into now,” Talarren apologised. “Suffice to say she is an evil sorceress who has reappeared after some years. Many had thought her destroyed in a terrible battle, slain at Aelred’s hand. Orcs have been seen in small parties heading south from Albatross Mountains toward her old fortress.”
Caspar barely finished his peaches and cream before jumping to another possibility. “Perhaps the Sorceress wants these orcs to invade Switz for her own purposes.”
“Is she powerful enough to do something like that?” Talarren asked rhetorically.
“Not quite,” Razel blurt out, unable to hold back any longer. “My mentor Ori Dreamweaver said if indeed she has reappeared, she would not have been able to multiply her powers in such a short space of time. She is in a rebuilding phase, he believes.”
“Aelred agrees,” Talarren lamented, “so we can rule that out. Her resurgence presents another quest that needs attention but must be sidelined at present in light of our current crisis.”
“You bear a heavy burden on your shoulders, Talarren,” Garth observed compassionately, patting Talarren’s broad shoulder. “Before anything else you need to eat.”
Talarren did not hear him. “There’s something else troubling me.”
Caspar put his fork down sternly. “Talarren, stop this instantly. Eat! After you have slept we will meet again on our balcony overlooking pawpaw, banana and plum trees in our Temple gardens. It’s wonderfully healing. I may have to place a healing spell on you, and I’m not joking.”
“You’re right, Caspar, and it gladdens my heart you are here with me now. But I must voice my concern.”
If I said something like that Caspar would tell me to shut up, Razel thought to herself.
Talarren breathed in. “This must not leave this room, understand?” His eyes met Garth, Caspar and Razel’s. He was struck again by Razel’s eyes. How attractive they appeared at that moment, circumstances giving them a different beauty to her defiant rebelliousness. “Wellington is sending an armada to aid Moses Al-Shaddai who is a member of…” Talarren checked himself.
“Yes, yes,” Caspar snapped, “…the Companions of Aelred. Garth is a Temple Minister of Ehud, for goodness sake, Talarren. Of course he knows about the Companions of Aelred.”
Talarren said weakly: “In any case, Lord Wellington has sent an armada to aid Moses, but also a large army to assist Switz up north. I can see his reasoning, but it seems foolhardy.”
“Why?” Caspar asked.
“Surely you wouldn’t want Xaveria to stand by and watch Switz overrun by orcs?” Garth suggested.
“You should not have questioned him like that,” Caspar reprimanded him, scratching his head and then immediately combing it back into place using his dragonbone comb.
Razel nodded her agreement, hoping to win Caspar’s favour. She suddenly regretted it. Perhaps her nod signified to Caspar she disagreed with him and sided with Talarren. I can’t win with this stupid old priest, she thought to herself angrily.
Talarren shrugged. His generous cut of choice lamb soaked in rich gravy with spinach, peas and beans was getting cold on his plate. “It does not sit comfortably with me. Armies from other Central Kingdoms could have been sent without Tessor’s aid.”
“Eat, Talarren,” Garth pleaded.
“Eat your food, you stubborn man, or I’ll eat it myself,” Caspar commanded him.
I’m a maiden and I’m still hungry, Razel thought irritably. Shouldn’t you be a gentleman and offer me more?
Talarren fr
owned deeply. He shook his head. “We had what amounted to a meeting earlier. Heading it up was an inexperienced Regent in a time of crisis, and two unseasoned counsillors with nothing like Xertes’ knowledge or vision. Decisions were made which should only properly be undertaken by an elected Central Alliance leader.
“Also in our meeting stood a cleric mighty in healing, experience and campaigns, but possessing no authority, a Ranger with no authority and a novice spellcaster who does not even possess a familiar.
“Such a war council is a disaster. Too many things do not make sense. How I wish the Companions of Aelred were here. I fear a disaster is upon us. Hasty decisions are being made without reference to wise leaders.”
No-one at table said a word. A heaviness descended. Talarren is too weary, he has succumbed to paranoia, Garth’s expression seemed to say.
“What do I do?” Talarren asked. “Search for Log-Kyrios, the lost Sword of Extinction? Fly north to aid Switz in their battle against orcs? Travel south to defend Raysal-El-Hin from Mugar invasion? Or remain here in Tessor, where my instincts tell me I must?”
“Why would you stay here?” Caspar asked.
A magical incantation coming from Razel caused a break in conversation. She gazed at Talarren, then quietly said: “I suggest you talk no more! Eat!” Talarren flinched slightly, a sign her Suggestion! Spell had taken effect. He began eating. Razel raised her finger to her lips signalling for silence from the others. They watched Talarren eat like a famished hippogriff. Before he finished, Garth went to get more. Razel pointed to herself, indicating she’d like seconds. Caspar did the same.
All three ate in silence, reminding Caspar of his early days as a Temple acolyte. A peaceful calm descended. Garth had cast a calming spell. After they’d eaten their fill, Razel produced her wand and flicked it in Talarren’s direction.
“Sleep!” she ordered.
Almost immediately Talarren closed his eyes, placed his head on his arm and fell asleep. Caspar gently helped Garth take him to bed. Not before Caspar whispered to Razel: “You’re not just a pretty face after all.”
End of Book One
What now?
If you enjoyed the novel, please write a good review on Amazon, Goodreads and/or other forums you belong to. Perhaps purchase the series for family, friends or others for Christmas, birthdays etc. I would appreciate that.
Then, watch out for Book Two, Age of Demons: In Search of the Sword, at Amazon.com. Meet you there!
Go well!
David Lawrence
About the Author
David Lawrence lives with his wife in Melbourne, Australia. Like J.R.R. Tolkien he was born in South Africa and writes fantasy novels. And other sorts of books, too. He loves reading, watching good movies, good food and being with family and friends.
The author has been employed and self-employed in a wide range of careers and jobs, from managing bank branches to guiding foreign tourists around Victoria’s natural attractions, from serving tables in Rue Pigalle, Paris, to running contact centres in the health, telecommunications and finance industries. He has had minor roles in television and the performing arts industries. Very minor. He currently works as a teacher and loves it. This is his first venture into fantasy, which is surprising given how much Tolkien and Dungeons and Dragons filled his teenage imagination. It is also surprising given how much he lives in a fantasy world regarding his writing aspirations.
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