Severed Destinies

by David Kimberley

  Draliak held his anger back. Here was the man responsible for the deaths of many Shada-Kavielians, both military and civilian. His crimes should have meant his instant execution but Sephonis had no doubt ordered his past forgotten in return for the Tyllasi support during the invasion.

  “You are a lucky man,” the commander said calmly. “Had I caught up with you back in the waters around Shada-Kaviel, our first meeting would have been a very different affair.”

  Vortain’s eyes glinted. “Then our decision to come here and support your war was a timely one. I would prefer us to be fighting on the same side.”

  Draliak looked back to Sephonis. “What are the plans for the Tyllasi now that they are here, high mage?”

  “Vortain will take his ships south along the coast of the Rotian Kingdom and will begin attacks on the settlements. This will give the Rotians further concern and will stretch their military resources.”

  “They will send ships north,” Draliak pointed out.

  Sephonis nodded. “They will, but Vortain’s men are proven warriors on the waves. The Rotian fleet is small though. We even have ships waiting further out to sea so as to stop any Rotian vessels trying to head north to the neighbouring lands. No doubt they will seek help when they realize what is happening.”

  “Only from the north,” said Draliak. “They would not seek assistance from the lands beyond the eastern mountains.”

  “What if a lone Rotian messenger reaches the northern lands?” asked Vortain, frowning. “Surely you cannot watch all of the roads and cover the whole border.”

  “I have ways of seeing,” replied Sephonis. “Do not seek to understand how though.”

  “And if a man from the north selling goods happens to cross the border on his way to Barentin?” challenged Draliak.

  Sephonis smiled. “No man, woman or child will leave or enter the borders of the Rotian Kingdom. I have…allies who will see to this.”

  At this, Balthus glanced at the high mage. He knew that the Dar’ota was involved with this border protection but his mind raced with thoughts of how and what would happen to those trying to flee north. He wanted to question Sephonis further but would have to wait for the right moment.

  Vortain shrugged his acceptance. “As long as you are confident that no other ships will join the battle, then we will do our part,” he said to Sephonis. “What of the settlements along the river?”

  The high mage shook his head. “Insignificant. It will not be long until all river settlements have been abandoned anyway. By now, news of the destruction of Barentin and Tamriel will have reached the nearest villages and the people will be moving south quickly.”

  “Have you not considered placing men at each settlement, high mage?” Draliak asked. “They would be useful as watchpoints.”

  “Once the first great battle between ourselves and the Rotians is over, we can begin moving our forces further into the kingdom.” Sephonis gave Draliak a wry smile. “You will not have long to wait, commander.”

  “From what I hear, these Rotians are not strong fighters,” remarked Vortain. “Is this true?”

  Draliak was already beginning to dislike the sound of the tyllasi’s voice. “They are not to be underestimated. They fight bravely against the odds but we have had the element of surprise up until now. The true test will be facing their soldiers and cavalry on an open battlefield.”

  “I will not be underestimating them.” Vortain glanced at Balthus. “Unlike some.”

  Balthus stepped forward and looked up at the tyllasi. “It is not wise to mock me.”

  “It is not wise to threaten me,” snapped Vortain, towering over the invoker.

  “Enough,” growled Sephonis, causing both men to step back.

  “I apologize,” muttered Balthus, turning away.

  “Your task is simple,” the high mage said to Vortain. “You are to stay in Boraila for the next five days and then sail out to begin your attacks along the coast. Do not go up the river and do not get too near the Rotian capital of Vylandor.”

  Vortain’s eyes flashed with anger momentarily at being given orders in this manner but he could not meet Sephonis’ gaze long. “I understand.”

  “Return to Boraila frequently. You will make your reports only to myself. Now, do you have the maps?”

  “I do.”

  “Then you may go back to your men. I expect no trouble from the Tyllasi whilst you are our guests here.”

  Vortain nodded and headed for the door. As he passed Draliak, the Tyllasi leader paused momentarily as if to say something but then decided against it and continued out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  “He does not react well to being given orders,” noted the commander. “That will be a problem.”

  “I have no doubt that at some point Vortain will disregard my orders,” sighed Sephonis, turning to face the fire. “It will be his undoing.”

  “Then why use them?”

  “You’ve answered your own question. We will simply use them to cause havoc and distraction. When the time comes, we will no longer have need for their services.”

  Draliak shook his head. “It is a dangerous game we play. Vortain will be hard to control.”

  Balthus suddenly spoke out. “I see now your concerns with the man, commander. However, I am sure that the high mage would not allow Vortain to move above his station.”

  “Balthus is correct of course,” said Sephonis, turning back to face them. “Do not worry about the Tyllasi though, commander. You have other matters to attend to.”

  The high mage moved to one of four chairs in the room and lowered himself into it. “Our forces nearly number ten thousand now and we await more warships. Most of our soldiers are here in Boraila or on the outskirts protecting the roads. Another contingent was left at the fortress. What is the feeling amongst the men?”

  Draliak was surprised somewhat by the question. “They are eager for more victories. Some have seen combat already. Those who fought at Barentin and Tamriel have been passing on their knowledge of the Rotians, such as it is. Plus, the men who helped you to take Boraila and those who joined us for the attack on the fortress all have experience. They will be key in the battles to come.

  Morale is high. The men are excited by this new campaign.”

  Sephonis was silent for a moment. His grey eyes stared at Draliak but yet he seemed deep in thought. “They have fought well so far,” he finally said. “However, they must be patient now. We wait to gauge the Rotian reaction to our presence here.”

  “Saroth is in the capital as we speak, is he not?” Balthus asked.

  “He is. As soon as he learns of their plans, he will return here to make his report and we will know what to expect.”

  Draliak wanted to be as confident as the high mage but there were too many questions on his mind. “What if his contact in Vylandor refuses to divulge such information?”

  “Then Saroth will find a new source of information and dispose of this Talgan Akalla. You know how persuasive Saroth can be, commander.”

  Draliak nodded. “I will ensure then that the men are continuing to train in preparation for this next stage. I aim to arrange new patrol routes and watchpoints around and outside Boraila.”

  “An excellent idea. Begin straight away and we will talk again soon.”

  Draliak bowed his head respectively and turned to leave the room.

  “I advise you keep an eye on the Tyllasi also, commander,” said Balthus. “We don’t want them causing unrest in the city.”

  Draliak did not reply but, for once, he agreed with the invoker.

  “High mage, may I speak openly?” asked Balthus, waiting until Draliak had closed the door.

  “Of course.”

  “You requested that the Rotian soldiers captured at the fortress be brought here to the temple and now you keep them locked up. I don’t understand why.”

  Sephonis smiled. “You also want to know more about how I am watching the borders.”

&nb
sp; Balthus hesitated but then nodded. “Yes. I am intrigued.”

  “I believe that you know the answer to that. You are not some inexperienced magic user, Balthus, so you must at least have an idea how I can do such a thing.”

  “Wardstones.”

  “Correct. I have sent men to place the stones along the border and they will remain there to deal with any who cross into or out of the kingdom.”

  “You sent soldiers?” asked the invoker.

  “Yes, but soldiers embued with the power to move quickly and strike silently. A magical enchantment I bestowed upon them.”

  “What of the captured Rotians?”

  Sephonis sighed. “You are full of questions today. I sense that there is doubt in your mind, Balthus.”

  “Not doubt, high mage. I am merely curious as to the intricacies of war, including what we do with the prisoners.” Balthus saw Sephonis’ eyes narrow and swiftly continued. “Of course, if I have asked too many questions then I apologize and will hold my tongue.”

  “Your thirst for knowledge reminds me of myself decades ago. I understand why you want to know the reasons behind every decision made here but I will reveal all in due course. For now, respect my wishes and do not concern yourself with the Rotian prisoners. I also do not wish you to enter the hall in which I commune with the Dar’ota. When the time is right, you will be allowed to join me.”

  Balthus bowed to the high mage and tried to hide his frustration. “As you wish. What would you have me do?”

  “Go out into the city,” replied Sephonis, waving his hand towards the door. “Walk the Rotian streets and talk with the soldiers. Breathe in the anticipation of our imminent victories. I expect you to return to your studies of the invoking arts later this evening.”

  “Very well. I will do as you ask.” Balthus left the room, unanswered questions floating in his mind.

  Sephonis watched him leave and returned his gaze to the fire. He had given Balthus too much free rein when he first sent him with Draliak to Barentin, resulting in the encounter that left the invoker scarred. He would need to ensure that he chose Balthus’ assignments carefully from now on. Until the young Shada-Kavielian became more experienced in dealing with the enemy, he could not risk sending him into another major battle.

  As he pondered on giving the invoker his next task, Sephonis found his thoughts shifting to the question about the prisoners locked below. Only he and the Dar’ota knew the fate of these Rotian soldiers and he imagined the reaction should Draliak find out. He would surely ask questions as to what happened to those Shada-Kavielian soldiers Sephonis altered and sent to place the wardstones.

  The high mage rose from the chair and paced before the fire, recalling the order the Dar’ota gave him when re-establishing the link last time.

  We must move fast, Sephonis. My minions are dying and so we must begin the transitions earlier than anticipated. We will test the transition on any Rotians but we may require the use of some Shada-Kavielian soldiers. Find me men who will withstand the transition.

  It was clear to Sephonis that the Dar’ota was desperate. Risking the process so early in the invasion campaign was proof of that. Some of the first Rotians they used died as the demons possessed their bodies but they had perfected the transition process quickly and now those men sitting locked below were due to be host to more of the minions from a dead realm.

  The Shada-Kavielians who had been possessed were a necessity when the borders required attention. The demons residing in their bodies were chosen specifically by the Dar’ota as they were fast and efficient killers who could cover great distances in a short time. Sephonis had thought Rotians to be better used as border guards but the Dar’ota wanted Shada-Kavielians. The high mage still could not work out why this was.

  He came to a halt and stared down into the flickering flames before him. He felt little heat from the fire despite standing mere inches away.

  “Let’s hope the Rotians know we’re here by now,” he whispered to himself.

  Chapter 24

  Talgan strode down the corridor, heading for the meeting chambers. His mind was going over all possible reasons for being urgently summoned. One thought kept surfacing though and a cold dread settled in Talgan’s stomach as he walked.

  He had been at home giving thought to his journey with the king across to the eastern side of the kingdom. Ever since he had agreed to go, the young nobleman had been anxious for news of departure. When the messenger had arrived and explained that Afaron demanded an audience with all available council members, Talgan’s immediate thought was that the king was to announce they were setting off soon. However, the messenger had worn a grim expression and his face was ashen.

  Talgan turned a corner and saw the double doors to the meeting chambers were open. Voices echoed from within and the first person Talgan saw was Karrid, who stood gazing out of a window. His troubled face was illuminated by the sunlight.

  He stepped into the room and immediately saw the rest of the council sitting or standing nearby. To a man, they all wore the same expression as Karrid. Afaron was at the centre of the room but Talgan’s eyes were drawn to the strangers who stood before the king. As he moved closer, responding to Jolas’ beckoning finger, he saw that there were six men and a woman within the group of newcomers. The only soldier amongst them was in conversation with Afaron and, as Talgan approached, he realized that four of the men and indeed the woman could only have been in their early twenties or late teen years.

  Jolas moved towards Talgan and placed a hand on his shoulder, leading him away from the conversation.

  “We have received shocking news,” began the elderly councillor. “The Rotian Kingdom is under attack.”

  Talgan felt the colour drain from his face and hid his trembling hands behind his back. This was what he had feared. “What…what do you mean?”

  Jolas glanced back over his shoulder. “Those youngsters over there were in Barentin and were caught in a sudden, unprovoked and brutal attack by soldiers wearing blackened armour. They are not a force known to these lands.

  The tall sturdy lad is Celestius Orgillian’s son, Gorric. We fear Celestius was lost at Barentin.”

  Talgan glanced at Gorric and saw the likeness between father and son. “And the others?”

  “The soldier is a corporal from Turambar and the eldest is a man from a settlement opposite the fortress. They have travelled here to warn us what has happened.”

  Talgan listened as Jolas repeated what the new arrivals to Vylandor had told them as soon as they stood before Afaron. He explained the invasion in the north which destroyed Barentin, Tamriel and Turambar, plus the taking of Boraila. Hundreds of Rotian lives lost and both soldiers and civilians alike taken away by the dark foreigners.

  “What more do we know about these invaders?” asked Talgan, feeling faint but steadying himself.

  Jolas shook his head. “Not much. Gorric and his young friends encountered one with the ability to use magic. He killed the acolyte’s companion before they managed to escape.

  Another who was clearly a trained killer they encountered below Turambar. Apparently the corporal, Ilkar, was mortally wounded by the man but survived somehow. Ilkar explained that the same foreigner also shot and killed Sarin, the captain of Turambar.”

  As Talgan opened his mouth to ask another question, he heard Afaron’s voice boom across the room.

  “Begin mustering the army. Send word to all villages, towns and cities warning them of this attack on the kingdom.”

  “Sire, it will take time to muster the full strength of our army,” Jolas pointed out.

  Afaron’s ferocious gaze settled on the eldest councillor. “Then I suggest you get to it. I will lead the army based here north immediately so as to gauge this new enemy but we will await the other Rotian forces before engaging them in battle.”

  “You will lead the men?” Jolas looked horrified. “Sire, with all due respect, you do not know what awaits you to the north.”

  �
�I have spoken,” the king growled. “Karrid, alert Toresin of what is happening and tell him to increase security across Vylandor. Talgan?”

  Talgan, whose mind was being plagued with dark thoughts, looked up at Afaron with wild eyes. “Sire?”

  “We won’t be going on our excursion after all so I want you to become a man of the people here whilst I journey north. Walk the city and ensure that supplies are in order. Also, I want you to visit the ship captains moored in Vylandor and explain that they should avoid the Ulmerien at this time.”

  Talgan nodded. “I will do as you ask.”

  “What of our fleet?” Karrid asked the king. “Will you require them to sail north?”

  “Not yet. Tell them to prepare themselves though to defend our waters.”

  “Sire, I am ready to serve the Rotian army and would like to travel with you when you go north.”

  Silence descended on the room as all eyes turned to Gorric Orgillian, who had dropped to one knee before Afaron. Behind Gorric, Kithia looked on in disbelief at her brother’s willingness to return to the evil they had left behind.

  Afaron placed a strong hand on Gorric’s shoulder. “I understand how you feel but I simply cannot permit that. You are untrained and I need experienced men.”

  “Please, sire,” said Gorric, looking up into the king’s troubled face. “You need someone there who knows what to expect. You need someone who has faced them and fought against them. I need to know…I need to find my family.”

  “I am sorry, Gorric. You have showed immense courage and determination in escaping the invasion so as to warn us but let us now deal with working out how to repel these foreigners. Your father would not want you placed back in danger needlessly.”

  Anger flashed across Gorric’s face and he fought to control his emotions. “My father was left behind in Barentin and I need to know his fate. I must go back.”

  Afaron looked at Ilkar. “Corporal, will you join me when we go north? You have battled many of them and I would appreciate you riding with us.”

  “Of course, sire,” Ilkar replied, glancing at Gorric and seeing the young rotian shudder.