Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

  “Seduce you, yes,” she whispered as she kissed him.

  “No games?” he asked.

  “No games. Is this not your heart’s desire?”

  “It has been a long time.”

  “Yes, it has, and I’ve missed you.”

  The time raced rapidly by and soon it was well into the afternoon. A heavy rap sounded on the door several times before Captain Brodst opened it.

  “Captain, come quickly,” the page said. He scrutinized the page thoroughly wondering how he had been found, but quickly followed where the boy led. He arrived in Lord Serant’s chamber just in time to see a runner arrive.

  “The honorable and mighty Kings of the South, Peter of Zapad, Alexas of Yug, and Jarom of Vostok request admittance into your great city.” The small runner announced the message quite brilliantly, then bowed and departed.

  “Well?” asked Captain Brodst quizzically. “Shall we? We will be back soon, Calyin, please stay here as we planned.”

  Lord Serant and the captain hastily ran from the room. They made a short stop to see Swordmaster Timmer and Pyetr to put the captain’s plan into effect immediately. Serant ordered the group to go to the palace courtyard, mount, and wait for them.

  In the space of a few minutes, the entire company was outfitted, mounted and departing the gates of the palace. They raced towards the westerly gates of the city. Upon reaching them, the column of four parted, splitting into two. Skillfully, they faced each other, then walked the horses backwards forming two neat rows on either side off the road, a very graceful display of horsemanship.

  The four lead horses moved from the pack and strode to the gates. Lord Serant signaled for the gates to be opened. Readily the two hulking forms wound outward. “Greetings to the monarchs of the South. Thank you for answering our call. The Great Kingdom welcomes you,” announced Lord Serant crisply; then he asked the troops to follow his detachment to the southern garrison.

  King Jarom’s aide instantly sparked an objection, stating that their guards should be housed in the palace garrison. Lord Serant’s subtle diplomacy quickly and decisively won the argument. He still didn’t like the high number of extras he was forced to accept as retainers for the kings. He was assured that the men only acted as personal bodyguards and servants and the like. He was quite convinced otherwise but didn’t offer further objection. He had them almost precisely where he wanted them.

  Once Lord Serant saw that the kings were properly lodged, he and the captain returned to check on Calyin. She flew into Serant’s arms and hugged him fiercely. He kissed her gently and carried her over to a chair and sat upon it with her in his arms. Captain Brodst smiled and turned his back for a moment, while Lord Serant kissed Calyin deeply and reassuringly. He chased away her fears, reassuring her that no further harm would befall him.

  Calyin moved to a chair beside Lord Serant. “Captain Brodst, it is quite all right to sit down,” she said sardonically. The three then discussed their plans in more detail. Pyetr’s men had taken the key positions throughout the palace as planned. They had replaced the chancellor’s manservant with a planted servant of their own. It had been a delicate maneuver, which Pyetr had quite skillfully managed. The three kings and their servants were placed in the second wing of the palace, which just happened to be nearest the central guard quarters; and the soldiers of the South were tucked away nicely in an easily-accessed position.

  Everything was working to their advantage; now they needed only to wait for the opposition to make its move. They would then be able to spring their exquisitely designed trap. With luck, the coming conflict would die just as rapidly as it began.

  It was well past the dinner hour when the three entered the great hall. The three kings had eaten long ago and were visibly frustrated by the long wait for an audience. Lord Serant took his place at the head of the table with Calyin to his left. Captain Brodst was the last to enter and he took a place next to his lord.

  Servants quickly brought out the main courses and poured drink. Each time one of the guests began to speak, Serant would raise his hand to stop him, offering a toast instead. He was somewhat surprised at how well the royalty retained their etiquette as they watched Calyin, Lord Serant, and the captain drift through an eleven-course meal, which they had already finished earlier.

  When the last remnants of food were removed and drink flowed, Lord Serant raised his hand again, signaling it was permitted to talk. King Jarom’s aide was the first to stand and beg a more private audience. Serant snapped his fingers and Chancellor Volnej entered the room. He whispered quietly into Lord Serant’s ear. “Ah, yes, Chancellor de Vit, I will permit you this. We shall retire to my personal audience chamber.”

  The group moved to a smaller chamber just off the hall. Captain Brodst winked at Pyetr, who had just changed the guards around the inner audience hall; as he entered, the doors closed behind him. King Jarom’s wolfish grimace grew into a cheerful smile as he studied Lord Serant and his captain.

  “You may speak freely in here, gentlemen,” said Lord Serant loftily.

  “Good,” said Chancellor de Vit. He started to speak further when King Jarom silenced him. “Yes, good indeed, we—” said King Jarom, indicating King Peter and King Alexas, “are most concerned about the affairs of the kingdom.”

  “You needn’t be concerned; there is nothing to be concerned over. I assure you.”

  “We are not so sure. It has come to our attention that since King Andrew’s death there have been circumstances regarding the rightful rule of the kingdom that concern us. The kingdom has no true heir. Prince Valam was the only heir, and he is gone.”

  “You were not called here to debate my position. Princess Calyin is also an heir, and as her husband, I am assuming my rightful place.”

  “I bet you do!” sparked King Peter.

  “I object to what you are insinuating. Calyin is the next in the royal line. It is her rightful place.”

  “She is a woman. Her rightful place is with her husband, nothing more.”

  “She is the rightful heir. I will hear nothing more on this subject. We have more pressing matters to deal with tomorrow.”

  “Just the same, Lord Serant. We wish to make a formal claim to the council to contest your claim. We feel it is a king’s place to rule in the absence of the prince.”

  “Do not forget your place. You come to Great Kingdom as honored guests, nothing more. Great Kingdom has not forgotten the treachery at Alderan and Quashan’. We are not the ones who need to explain ourselves.”

  “As members of the alliance—”

  “—An alliance you honor of your own convenience—”

  “What occurred in the south is a separate matter, a matter of lands in dispute,” cut in King Jarom. “As members of the alliance, it is our right; it was written into the treaty. We wish an audience with the council in two days’ time. I assure you that when Prince Valam returns we will relinquish our rule. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “Guards! Remove these men from my sight! Now!”

  “We are not men, we are royalty, and you will treat us as such in the future. You need to learn to control yourself better. This little outburst will be made known to the council. Good day, Lord Serant—Princess.”

  King Jarom shook away the arm of the guard that attempted to assist his exit. The three kings walked gracefully out of the room, followed by their aides. Once the door was closed tightly, Lord Serant lost his haughty exterior. “Captain Brodst, would you leave us for a moment, and please send for Keeper Q’yer and Father Joshua. I could use their wisdom.”

  Lord Serant watched the captain walk stiffly from the room. He turned to look at Calyin and sank down to his knees beside her. “Can they do it? Can they take control?” Calyin understood the pain her lord was feeling. Uncertainty was an emotion he had only recently discovered. He didn’t know how to deal with it. Even though sadness filled Calyin, she was happy; her pillar of flawless granite did in fact need her, and that filled her mind with j
oy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Keeper, Captain Mikhal’s group has arrived.”

  “Send Captain Mikhal in at once!”

  Father Jacob quickly joined Keeper Martin in the command tent. He was eager to get the report from the captain. It had been many days since the scout group had departed. He had feared the worst, his ill omens fading only as he saw the group return safely, and Captain Mikhal stood before him.

  “Captain Mikhal! It is good to see that you are returned safe. Here, drink this; it will refresh you,” said the newly appointed lieutenant Danyel’. Danyel’ was a towering man; his height eclipsed that of most, and his girth was unmatched. His immense size and fierce skill had earned him his title and much respect. Many referred to the former mercenary turned guardsmen affectionately as “Seventh” after his position. He was the seventh to attain the status of lieutenant since they had arrived in East Reach.

  Lieutenant was an office that, through Captain Mikhal’s advice, had been restored. The title meant much more than Swordmaster First Class or Sergeant at Arms, as it positioned the holder in the ranks of leadership. The captain was still the undisputed leader of the army, but the lieutenants were free to act on their own volition to lead their respective detachments.

  During the long journey to the Reaches, Mikhal had been scheming over his plans for the times ahead: the best defenses and the best offenses. The whole picture had been missing one element: a sectional lead, a lieutenant. He divided the entire company into six sections, each section containing ten squads. The sections were led by the lieutenants, and the sergeants or swordmasters led the squads, following the decisions of their leader.

  Keeper Martin and Father Jacob were most impressed by the battle wisdom Captain Mikhal showed. His planning was clear and precise. They were quite confident Captain Mikhal would be a potent force when the time came to join the fight.

  “Captain Mikhal, are you ready to report?”

  “Yes, let’s go do it, ‘Seventh’.”

  The two walked toward the tent, the fatigue of the long trek barely showing in their features. Captain Mikhal unfolded their large, roughly formed map onto the table, crimping the edges so it would remain open. Many marks and symbols were newly sketched onto it.

  “The report is the same as our last though we journeyed farther out this time; still no signs of anyone. The plains are barren, all homes and farms are abandoned. The mountains appear to stretch across the entire north and west here as we thought. We have spotted two passes, here—and here. They are wide enough for an army to travel through with little difficulty. These marks here and here are two narrow canyons where they could also come through, but we could easily dispatch them from above. In the second one, this river joins the main one here. We could easily block the river. Danyel’s group followed the river as far as they dared go and noted the fords. They also spotted a large village here. We did manage to find some salvageable food. This is also where we captured some errant horses, a group of about ten, which brings our total up to thirty four. Here, just the other side of the river, is a small stand of trees, the only trees we have seen on the entire plain. Several times during the night, we could feel someone shadowing us. We would search and find nothing. On the return trip, we did spot a single rider, but he was gone as soon as we discovered him. My group stayed an additional day to try to follow him, but his tracks ended and we could not find the trail again.”

  “We did not expect you to find anyone. This place is strange, a country at war, and no signs of fighting in any direction. Our first summations must have been correct. The mountains still form an effective boundary, and for King Mark to invade would require a vast amount of troops. We are sitting right in the middle of where he will want to go. I am afraid we return to the same questions. Why hasn’t the queen sent her scouts to greet us? Where have all the people fled? Why hasn’t King Mark invaded? Our choices are limited with this odd season upon us. I see two options open to us. We can wait here through the coming cold and hope the queen brings us supplies, or we can return home while we still have enough supplies to make the return journey.”

  “Well spoken, Father Jacob. You know that I fully agree with you as we have discussed this topic all week. What of my other suggestion? Do you think it is worth the risk?”

  “I will not hear of it—using the device is too dangerous. You said so yourself. Even if you could trigger it, you don’t know if you would survive the teleportation.”

  “Teleportation?”

  “Sorry, Captain Mikhal, Lieutenant Danyel’, it’s just that Jacob and I have discussed this so often that I had forgotten. Yes, teleportation, the device that is at the command of keepers. Keeper Martin thinks he may be able to trigger it even at this distance through a dream message.”

  “Is it possible?”

  “Anything is possible. It is just that even if I can activate it, I might not be able to complete the journey.”

  “I don’t understand how it works. How could it be possible to carry you that great a distance?”

  “Distance isn’t the problem if I can trigger it. The device creates a window from one place to another. It is triggered by thoughts reaching it. You picture an image of a place in your mind and it will take you there. It goes through a sphere outside of time and distance. In that space, the kingdom is as close to us as you are to me.”

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “The journey.”

  “But you said the distance does not matter.”

  “To teleport from the palace to the hall of the keepers takes place in the span of one or two heartbeats. The problem is the length of time between here and the hall, relative to us. It could be too long.”

  “If it is outside space and time why does it matter?”

  “It is outside our space and our time, yes, but what is the time in that sphere relative to our time; is a minute a minute, an hour an hour?”

  “You, my friend, think too much,” said Captain Mikhal.

  “I understand,” added Danyel’, “but why would you wish to attempt it in the first place?”

  “If I can make the journey there, the journey back here can be traversed with ease. I know this area as well as I know the palace. We will be able to receive word from the kingdom and then form our decision.”

  The sound of alarm resounded through the camp. A runner ran screaming wildly toward the command tent. He entered nearly exhausted. “A rider approaches about a half hour’s run away.”

  “A single rider clad in a brown robe on a black mount?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “He is a friend. You’re dismissed. Take an evening’s reprieve and an extra serving. Good job!”

  “Thank you, sir!”

  “That is the rider that has been following us. I know it! Shall we go greet him?”

  “Yes, I think we should.”

  They watched the stranger and his mount grow closer as time ebbed away. They could clearly see his simple brown robe and jet black mount. Captain Mikhal assured them that it was the same rider that had been following them.

  A group of nervous guards stopped the rider just inside the camp. Swords raised, they asked him to step down from his mount. A flicker of thought shot searching through the keeper’s mind. It was an angry thought. The stranger repeated his demand through the mind of Father Jacob, the captain and Danyel’. None of them could understand his words, only his emotions, so they offered no response in return.

  The rider hesitantly dismounted, casting forceful glances at the guards. The guards rapidly lowered their weapons under the weight of his gaze and the keeper’s admonishment. The rider stood still beside his horse and solemnly said, “Ne bojtes’. Tol’ko dlya mira ya prikhodil. Slishkom dol’go ya nablyudal za vam. Vremya sejchas! Tsaritsa-Mat’ ustraivaet provody privetstvie—i ya tozhe samoe.”

  His thoughts echoed within their minds. They could not translate them into meaningful words, though they were certain of the dialect. It cou
ld only be the tongue of Seth’s people. Keeper Martin fumbled the words within his mind searching for any he could comprehend. The only words he knew in the dialect were a greeting Seth had taught him. “Zdravstvujte. Ya Keeper Martin, ehto Father Jacob, Captain Mikhal, i Lieutenant Danyel’.”

  Teren was abashed at his foolishness. He had forgotten to phrase his words in the tongue of Man. He searched his mind for the terms he had quested from the scouts’ minds over the last week. He began to speak weakly; soon his abilities improved, and the warm gentleness of his voice flowed. “Do not be afraid. I have come in peace. Long have I watched over you. The time is now! The Queen-Mother sends out her greetings, and I also welcome you.”

  Keeper Martin bid them to retire to the command tent. They had many topics to discuss, the most important of which were the whereabouts of the enemy and the progression of the war. They conversed long into the night and the next morning Teren departed the camp.

  He had told them many things about the surrounding countryside and of the battle. He assured them that supplies and any horses that could be spared would be arriving soon. Teren also told them an official welcoming party and advisory council would arrive from the capital within the week.

  The affairs of the camp in the passing week went well. The spirits of the soldiers remained high, though most wished to be far away in the comfort of their own homes. They had all willingly volunteered their services for a cause they thought just and would wait for the time to defend that cause.

  Scouts would occasionally encounter Teren as he roamed across the plains. He would greet them heartily but never stay with them long. Captain Mikhal was still extremely puzzled why Teren was the only one they ever saw. Each time he saw Teren he would mean to ask but never had.

  Cold rains slowly crept in. The skies were habitually overcast, and drizzle sprinkled over the camp. They began to make preparations for the oddly cold season. Teren had said the spring in the Eastern Reaches were mild here on the plains, so they were not excessively fearful but it did seem more like early winter than early spring.