Heroes of the Crystal Star (Valcoria Book 1)

by Jason James King

  “Silence!” Kaiden commanded. “Silence!” he repeated to a crowd that was slow to respond.

  Kaiden watched the man in the hospital tunic, though wincing as if walking caused him pain, stride boldly to the foot of the throne dais. Lord Akealden backed away from him with a look of fearful disgust on his chubby face. Sitrell Trauel? Kaiden had sent the boy to a non-combat post to give him time to recover from the shock of his father’s death. That death had been a tragic loss to Kaiden too, for General Enot Trauel had been a friend of his. He had been a noble and pious man, possessing an uncommonly gentle spirit. Odd attributes to be found in one of the kingdom’s fiercest warriors.

  From what Generals Valek and Ostek had reported, Enot’s son Sitrell had taken his father’s death quite hard, withdrawing and becoming depressed and angry. Is that why he was here? Had Sitrell’s grief broken his mind? The young commander looked a wild man with his ungroomed beard, windblown hair, and dirty clothes. Sulia doesn’t need this. Kaiden cringed. She’s already lost a son and a husband to death. What would it do to her to lose her last child to madness?

  “Commander Trauel! What is the meaning of this?” Kaiden shouted over the murmuring of the assembly.

  He caught Sitrell’s eyes flick toward Ashra before returning to meet his. “I have vital intelligence that needs to be delivered to the council.” Sitrell glanced over his shoulder at the crowd behind him. “Information that would be best delivered in a closed-door session.”

  Kaiden felt his already smoldering temper reignite. What else could go wrong today? “I am not even going to ask what you are doing here, Trauel. I order you to report immediately to Lt. General Ostek as is protocol. Once he has debriefed you, and if he deems it important”―and you sane―“he can then deliver your information to Chief General Valek who will present it to me at tomorrow’s war council.”

  “With respect, Alderman, this cannot wait until tomorrow.”

  “I gave you a direct order, Commander.” This could not continue in public. He needed to get Sitrell into custody, by persuasion if possible and by force if necessary. “This display of total disregard for the respect of the court, as well as your violation of military protocol is appalling! You will leave this room and go directly to Lt. General Ostek’s office, or I will have you arrested!”

  Minister Kala motioned an order to the two guardsmen flanking the dark-skinned stranger. They shared an uncertain look before moving to close on Sitrell, their swords drawn.

  Kaiden started as Sitrell plunged his right hand into his satchel and quickly withdrew a very strange device. Was it a pistol? Before Kaiden could order the Royal Guard to restrain him, Sitrell raised the device high above his head at which point it emitted a strange loudening electric hum followed by an explosion of emerald light. The light flashed over the room bathing marble pillars and reflecting in glass windows as a tiny emerald ball streaked like lightning toward the vaulted ceiling. The crash of cracking wood and sound of breaking stone made him flinch as a small cloud of debris rained down on the crowd. He froze as something echoed from his memory. He had seen that device somewhere before. In fact, deep down in the palace storage vaults slept an identical machine. Identical in every way save that the weapon in storage had long ceased to function when it was discovered. It was technology from the days before the Great Destruction.

  “Silence!” Kaiden shouted to quiet the hysterical chattering of the crowd, but they didn’t respond. “Silence!” he yelled even louder. Still he received no response. He turned and nodded to a councilor at his right who stood, descended the stairs, and disappeared behind the throne dais. A moment later, the clanging of large bells resounded through the throne room, drowning out the din of the assembly and forcing them to fall silent. When Kaiden again had attentive quiet, he said in an even tone, “Clear the room and send for General Valek.”

  Kala nodded and stood, briskly giving orders to several servants and guardsman. Kaiden let his unwavering stare linger on Sitrell as the audience of five hundred were swept from the throne room and its large, double-doors pulled shut. To the boy’s credit, he confidently met Kaiden’s stare.

  “Where did you get that, Commander?” Kaiden asked, worrying that he already knew the answer.

  Sitrell lowered the weapon. “From an anonymous sympathizer, a man who risked his life to rescue us from captivity and execution.”

  “Can you describe him?”

  Sitrell shook his head. “He was in disguise, but I can tell you that he did not speak with an Aukasian accent.”

  Kaiden shut his eyes in bleak resignation, the information validating his rising suspicion and fueling his fear. Rayome. What have you done?

  “Explain yourself, Commander,” the dark haired woman standing to the left of Ashra called out. “What are you doing here? What is that thing? Where are your men? And who are they?” She motioned at Yuiv and Jalek, her voice rising in frustration.

  Sitrell met Ashra’s eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes. Her uncertain half smile disarmed him, and he had to turn away before he was robbed of confidence. “As I said, Councilor Kala, I am here because I have vital intelligence that needs to be delivered to the council.” Sitrell raised the Niazeride hand unit again so that everyone in the room could have a good look at it. He smiled inwardly as a few of the council members flinched, no doubt fearing another demonstration. “The device that I hold was referred to by our unknown benefactor as a Niazeride weapon, and as you can see, it possesses great destructive power.” Sitrell lowered it and motioned to Yuiv. “This boy helped me escape Lisidra.” Noticing that Yuiv looked beside himself with nerves, Sitrell flashed him a reassuring smile before turning to motion to Jalek. “This man is an Aukasian soldier and my prisoner.”

  “And your men, Commander?” Alderman Ekale asked, his tone no longer sounding surprised.

  Sitrell shook his head. “My entire regiment was wiped out by the enemy.” He felt pain, not in his side, but in his heart as the mention of death at the hands of the enemy turned his thoughts to Enot Trauel.

  Now that he had reached his destination and was standing before the Ruling Council, the sense of desperate urgency that had sustained him for two weeks no longer held his grief in abeyance and he had to work to keep the emotion from his voice.

  “You said you escaped Lisidra?” a young councilor with blond hair at Sitrell’s left asked, a man whose name he didn’t know.

  “Yes. An enemy force of fifty thousand breached the Sentinel Gate and took Lisidra.” That caused a stir. Sitrell listened with satisfaction as the council burst into a cacophony of shocked exclamations and ardent denials. Why was it that he found so much pleasure in upsetting these nobles? Could it be that he felt vindicated against their assumptions that he was emotionally unstable and the consequent meaningless assignment they had dealt him? Or maybe it felt good to antagonize the aristocracy because they represented the caste barrier that prevented him from marrying Ashra. Was he really so petty?

  The din of overlapping conversations was silenced by the arrival of Chief General Valek who entered the throne room and strode to the foot of the throne dais, two of his advisors trailing him. He was a tall, lean man with slicked black hair and an angular chin capped by a short goatee. He wore the army’s customary navy, long-tailed coat over creased trousers, and his chest was decorated with a multi-colored collage of medals and pins bespeaking his high rank.

  Valek offered a perfunctory bow to the council and then straightened, his soldier’s posture as perfect as Sitrell had ever seen. “Alderman,” Valek said, “I was told there was an emergency?”

  “Yes, General,” Ekale nodded before turning to look back at Sitrell. “Why don’t you explain the whole of it, Commander?”

  Sitrell nodded and recounted his two week ordeal. He started with his arrival at Lisidra and subsequent confrontation with Leadren over opening the Sentinel Gate. This prompted questions that forced him to prematurely explain Leadren’s betrayal in its entirety. As soon as he could, he return
ed to the chronology of his narrative, next explaining how his key was stolen and Lisidra invaded. Sitrell spoke of Yuiv’s role in Leadren’s betrayal, working hard to minimize the boy’s culpability while at the same time emphasizing how Yuiv had saved his life. He explained to the council how they had escaped imprisonment and execution and relayed as best as memory would permit everything that the black knight had told him concerning the strength of Lorta’s army, the Niazeride technology, and its counter measure. More than once he noticed shaking heads and pale faces. They knew what this meant. They understood the gravity of the threat. Praise the Creator for that. His secondhand experience, via his father, had taught him that convincing politicians of the need to act was often very difficult. Like a parent explaining to a stubborn child why bathing was necessary. The words echoed through his mind in the voice of his father.

  Sitrell went on to explain how he was wounded, minimizing the extent to which his injury still hindered him, and how he had ordered the evacuation of Hirath. He ended his account with Jalek’s attack on his party, of course omitting any mention of supernatural occurrences and explaining Jalek’s slaying of his comrades as a freak incident of insubordination turned violent, one that fortuitously worked to his and Yuiv’s salvation. This coloring of the story earned Sitrell several confused looks from Yuiv and even a reaction from Jalek, the Aukasian soldier furrowing his brow and narrowing his eyes. Was that disapproval?

  In contrast to most members of the ruling council, General Valek remained composed throughout Sitrell’s report, never gasping or shaking his head. Only once had he shown a reaction, stiffening and tightening his jaw when Sitrell had explained that Lorta was arming his soldiers with thousands of Niazeride pistols. Who wouldn’t react to that? A larger invading enemy armed with an unstoppable weapon, it was something out of a wild nightmare.

  “Commander, how long until the enemy moves to attack Hirath?” Valek asked, his voice admirably businesslike.

  “Our benefactor said that the Aukasian force would leave Lisidra in six weeks, that was two weeks ago.”

  “And this counter measure?” Valek eyed the metal sphere now resting on the marble floor at Sitrell’s feet. “It will only work after the enemy commences using the Niazeride technology?”

  “He said it would only be effective once the Niazeride weapons were activated.”

  “That’s suspiciously convenient,” Kala scoffed.

  Anger flared to life inside Sitrell. Perhaps they didn’t understand the implications of his revelation. “I’m sorry, Councilor?”

  Kala smiled at Sitrell. making her ruby lips contrast more sharply with her ivory skin and causing a dimple to appear on the left side of her mouth. “It seems to me that it would be a perfect ploy for the enemy to set up a threat so catastrophic that we would readily accept a device purported to counter that threat without even considering the possibility that it too could be a weapon.”

  “You think the counter measure could be some sort of weapon?” Sitrell blinked.

  “Why not?” Kala said turning her attention to her fellow councilors. “Who’s to say that it won’t explode upon activating it or cause some other unforeseen catastrophe somehow disabling or disarming our forces? And isn’t it convenient that it is only good for one use, therefore not allowing us to test it.”

  Sitrell’s anger intensified as he heard the members of the council debate Kala’s words. “So are you saying we risk not using it to defend ourselves?”

  The council members continued their overwhelming din of questions and arguments, ignoring Sitrell. He glanced at Valek for support, but the General seemed lost in his own deliberations.

  “Sitrell,” Yuiv called in a wavering voice. “What’s happenin?”

  Sitrell stole another glance at Ashra before importuning Alderman Ekale with his eyes.

  “Silence,” barked Ekale, killing the clamor of a dozen different arguments. “General Valek”―he waited for the man to snap out of his thoughts―“What is your view of the matter?”

  Valek glanced at Sitrell, and then at Kala before turning to address Alderman Ekale. “We know that the enemy has breached the Sentinel Gate and taken Lisidra. We know that they have developed a terribly destructive weapon, against which we have no defense, and we know that they will resume their campaign in less than a month.” Valek glanced again at Sitrell. “We do not know if the device Commander Trauel has brought to us will neutralize the Niazeride technology, or if it is a ploy to make us destroy ourselves.” Valek shook his head. “The way I see it, either we use the device against the enemy and risk defeat, or we don’t use it and accept defeat.”

  Sitrell released a pent-up breath, relieved that Valek had sided with him.

  “And your recommendation, General?” Ekale asked.

  Valek paused for a moment looking as though he were considering the question. “We have three brigades still in the city. If we call up the reserves, then that will give us a force of just over thirty-thousand. If Emperor Lorta wants to hold Lisidra, he will need to leave Leadren at least ten thousand soldiers, which would give us a decent chance against their numbers, provided we can neutralize their Niazeride weapons.” He motioned again at the counter measure at Sitrell’s feet. “I recommend we do as Commander Trauel suggests and head off the enemy at Hirath. If the city is evacuated, we can secrete our men throughout and ambush the Aukasian forces as they pillage. A surprise attack on an urban battlefield will greatly work to our advantage, and we can avoid losing lines of men as we wait for the counter measure to take effect.”

  “And should it turn out to be an explosive or trap of some sort?” Kala stepped forward.

  “Then we will be hundreds of miles away from Salatia Taeo,” Valek answered.

  “When would you deploy?” Ekale asked.

  “We would need to march as soon as possible, by tonight if we can manage it. Reaching Hirath before the enemy is not going to be easy. We will need to double time almost the whole way, and camp only every other night. Hopefully, there will be a couple of days for the men to rest before the Aukasian army arrives.”

  Ekale glanced at the other members of the council before turning back to stare at the Niazeride weapon still in Sitrell’s right hand. “Go.”

  Yes! Sitrell relaxed.

  Valek saluted fist to chest, turned on his heel, and then strode out of the room, his advisors following.

  “Motion to suspend the regular sessions of the Ruling Council and convene a special session to meet in the war room in two hours time?” Ekale called.

  The members of the council unanimously agreed.

  “Commander Trauel,” Ekale said. “The kingdom has your thanks for your courageous and decisive action.”

  Sitrell saluted. “Thank you, Alderman.”

  Ekale continued as if Sitrell hadn’t spoken. “I order you to report to your Lt. General Ostek. You are then to get cleaned up and changed so as to join us in the war room in two hours.”

  “Yes, Alderman.”

  Ekale stood. “Because of Commander Trauel’s earlier”―he hesitated―“demonstration, rumors will quickly spread and you will likely be pressed for information. Tell those who ask that what they saw was a flare gun. I need not remind any of you that what has been revealed here is not to be shared with anyone; not your spouses, children, or servants. Not with anyone. Is that clear?”

  The council gave another combined voice of assent.

  “Then we adjourn.”

  The throne room became awash with conversation and commotion as every member of the council rose and rushed to exit. He glanced at Yuiv, flashing a weary smile.

  A sharp twinge hijacked Sitrell’s attention and he gripped his side while grinding his teeth until the wave of pain subsided. It had been two days since he had exhausted his supply of opiate extract, removing the buffer between him and the full force of pain from his wound.

  “You’as ok?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Sitrell grunted, hoping none of the council saw him fal
ter. He knew he wasn’t fine. His pain had changed over the course of his ride, adding a slow inner burn to the already sharp throbbing. It was almost certainly infected. As long as it hasn’t re-opened. He’d checked his sutures before riding into the city, and so far they were holding.

  Sitrell met Yuiv’s anxious stare. More than once, when the pain became almost more than he could bear, he had thought of asking the boy if it were possible to use his strange power to heal him. It was a temptation that Sitrell always dismissed, for the very topic made him uneasy. What was it the boy had done? How had he done it? Those questions and a myriad of others had harassed Sitrell for nearly a fortnight, and although he desperately wanted answers, he couldn’t bring himself to raise the topic. Neither had Yuiv said anything. He too seemed content to ignore what had happened. So it was that both held to their unspoken agreement not to mention the strange events that they had seen and experienced.

  “We did it.” Sitrell sighed when the spike in pain settled.

  “The army’ll stop em then?” Yuiv’s voice sounded anxious.

  Sitrell nodded. “Our chances are fair.”

  Yuiv nodded to himself. “Wha bout me? I’as gonna go back to prison?”

  Sitrell shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  The boy looked relieved. That caused Sitrell a pang of guilt. While he hadn’t actually lied to Yuiv about the prospect of his returning to prison, he’d exaggerated the likelihood of that event. The possibility had been remote, especially in light of how Yuiv had saved his life and voluntarily remanded himself to Sitrell’s custody in order to provide proof to the council of his claims. His threat had been too harsh, made when he was weary, desperate, wounded, and angry.

  Sitrell glanced at Jalek who was being wrestled into shackles by four soldiers of the Royal Guard. Another stab of guilt cut into Sitrell’s chest. The dark-skinned Aukasian soldier had committed treason in order to save his and Yuiv’s life, but because of the supernatural circumstances surrounding that event, details Sitrell had omitted from his testimony, Jalek was receiving the harsh treatment due an enemy combatant. Well he was, wasn’t he? Sitrell wasn’t sure. There were too many pieces of this puzzle that he couldn’t make fit. He noticed Yuiv watching Jalek.