by Andrew Wood
Jamal looked straight to Bracken for leadership, and he could tell the man's mind was thinking. Barely a few seconds passed, "You two wait here, but be ready to mount up on very short notice," he said in a low voice. Jamal nodded, would these invaders never give up hunting them down? Replacing his canteen in his saddlebag, he grasped his sword tightly in his hand. Both he and Fabian stayed in crouching positions, as they watched Bracken disappear between the undergrowth.
There was a silence, and Jamal could feel his palms sweating and his knuckles whiten as he grasped the sword ever tighter. He felt a hand touch his arm, "Relax Jamal," said the unusually kind voice of the younger man beside him. He slowly loosed his grip a little, letting the colour return to hands. The pair jumped suddenly as a figure burst out at them from the bushes. Jamal raised his sword quickly placing himself in front of Fabian. Quite why he had done such a thing he was not sure, but it seemed the instinctive thing to do.
The need for alarm however was short lived. Jamal sighed, as three more figures appeared, Bracken amongst them. It was he who spoke, "I found a few strays"; he said pointing to the three bloodstained, faces of the newcomers. Jamal recognised the uniforms immediately; these were cavalrymen. "Did you defeat the invaders?" Fabian asked stepping out from behind Jamal. One of the men shook his head, "No son, they wiped us out."
Jamal retrieved his water from the saddlebags and offered it to the men. As they drank, they told of the battle that had ensued, shortly after Jamal and Fabian had left. The cavalry had charged, and after a few successes, had been all but obliterated. They thought they had been the only three survivors. They told how they had followed their orders and kept riding, although they had sneaked back a little later to see the outcome. "I did not see a single Murati left standing," one of the men said passing the water back Jamal's direction. "We must have inflicted heavy casualties upon the enemy though; Am I right?" Fabian asked. The man shook his head once more, "Some yes, but there are so many of them, I fear we have barely dealt them more than a scratch."
Jamal let his head drop. The commander had fallen with his men. This had been the second time in the past week or so that he had lost compatriots, and twice where he had been forced to flee. He steadied his composure, next time he thought, he was going to stand and fight. Firstly, they needed to get back to Onay and warn the prince. The people would need to group and build defences. The Murati people may have lost a battle, but this war had barely started.
Chapter 21.
The King of Murati, brother of Issac, sat in his study. On a table before him was the map of his nation. Stood around it arguing were supposedly his five most trusted advisors and military commanders. He had received two warnings within the last day. The first he had received had been a somewhat puzzling one from the King of Corlan. This had warned of some unknown force heading his way. How could he have acted upon it though, he did not know where this enemy might strike. As a result, he had been left with little choice, other than to start making some initial precautions.
Initially he had thought this first warning must be a mistake. It had only been the news that over a thousand Corlanian troops had marched behind the warning, and were at that moment on his northern border, that made him realise the magnitude of this threat. If his trusted ally, the King of Corlan had sent such a massive part of his army his way, it must be a very serious one.
The second message, from his brother in Onay, had been just the confirmation he had been dreading. Apparently, this enemy had already attacked his southern most lands. Moreover, and far more worrying was the fact this invading force comprised of not only human soldiers, but strange creatures unknown to them. His brother had written to tell him, that to stall the invasion he had sent a large part of the Onay garrison to block their advance. How well that was being achieved he had not yet heard anything further.
Already he had sent riders from his city of Ulreta, warning as many of his outposts, towns, garrisons and villages as he could think of. Every one of his soldiers was currently preparing and awaiting his further instructions. The Murati King had followed a similar scheme to his Corlanian counterpart after the last war. This allowed reservists to train alongside the regular soldiers on a part-time basis. Ultimately, this gave him many more capable soldiers for a fraction of the price, that it would have cost to maintain a massive full time army.
In Onay, Prince Issac rushed down the steps of his palatial home, and out into the yard. Word had been sent, that a handful of soldiers had just returned from the force that he had sent south to push back the invading hordes. His face was aghast as all that stood before him, were a handful of men. "Father," Fabian rushed forward with open arms. Issac awkwardly held his son, "Why have you returned? Is the enemy defeated?" Bracken stepped to the front, "Sire, this is all that's left. Jamal and I escaped with your son, these," he gestured to the cavalrymen, "Are all that remained."
Issac stood in silence, shocked at the news. The others waited for the news to sink in. "Father, why did you send me to die?" Fabian shouted shoving his father. "I... did not know...I thought you would be safe...I had no idea," Issac stuttered. "All those men dead...I sent them all to their death's..." Issac continued rambling. With Fabian not getting any sense from his father, the youngster stormed off. Jamal, despite thinking he may at last be rid, felt duty bound to go after him.
The prince was escorted back inside. "Sire, we need to send out warnings to the local towns and villages. Get as many as we can into Onay," Bracken said stepping up beside him. Issac said nothing, but just continued mumbling and shaking his head. The Royal Guardsman could tell his leader was in a state of utter shock, but needed to ensure the order was given. "Sire, we need to give the order. The enemy is coming and we need to be ready or thousands of innocents will perish," he said again in a sterner tone. The prince looked up at his guard, and waved a hand nonchalantly, "Do what you must..."
Bracken nodded, leaving the prince to cope. He knew the man would pull out of it soon enough. However, every minute wasted, gave the enemy more time to push further northward.
Jamal followed Fabian into a very richly decorated room. There were colourful pictures on the wall, and across over to one side was a huge bed, which Issac's son threw himself on to. How many bedrooms did this boy have, he thought. Fabian turned his head, "Why are you following me? Leave me alone." Jamal could not help but feel sorry for him. How would he have felt if his own father had sent him out to be killed? Just to teach him a lesson. Another time Jamal would have been in awe at all the paraphernalia that covered the two long tables that were on the lower part of the split-level room. As things were, he sat himself beside the sobbing young man on the bed, placing a hand on his back. "From his reaction I think your father under-estimated the enemy. I am sure he would not have sent you otherwise," he said in a vain attempt at making Fabian feel better.
The youngster turned to look at him, "Why are you defending him? Just go...please leave me alone." Jamal stood to go. He had tried to say the right thing, but it was clear Fabian and his father had big issues. "Okay Fabian, I'll go. I'll be in the barracks if you want someone to talk too," he heard himself saying, and thinking he would probably regret the words in the future. As he left, he pondered why one young man needed so much space to live in. This bedroom was larger than most of the dorms in the barracks, which usually slept over a hundred men. Every object was clearly expensive, from the rugs on the floor to the drapes at the windows.
By the time Jamal had returned to the garrison buildings, the place was already a hive of activity. Bracken had obviously been given the go ahead to ready the city for any imminent attack. Soldiers were pouring out of the barracks and out into the city streets. The people of Onay needed to be told what was going on, but without sending them into a panic. The soldiers on the streets would be used to that end also. There would shortly be a massive influx of refugee's entering through both the northern and southern gates. This all needed to be done in an orderly fashion.
In Dareki
a, Dalia stretchered out her arms as she got up off her bed. The young man she had spent the night with, was still asleep. She poked him with her foot, "Hey, you have done your duty. Now go." The young man stirred, and once he had gotten his bearings, obeyed. She watched his naked body, emerge from underneath the covers; this one, she thought, had pleased her well last night and maybe called upon again.
Dawid was washed and fed by the two woman carers, Dalia had allotted to care for him during the evenings she shared her bed. The youngster was brought to her on his leash, and she ruffled his dark hair as he crouched down beside her.
The previous day her party had arrived at one of her training camps. Her agenda now was to gather her army together. Once that was achieved, she would march her force to the main seat of power. After removing the puppet government that had been installed by Corlan and Besemia, she could then free Darekia. No longer, would the people have to bow to foreign powers; she would take control and bring in a new era.
In her absence, she had been pleasantly surprised by the progress her followers had made. Not only were here training camps producing fine young soldiers; each fully committed to her cause. Each young man in service had a compulsion on his mind to do her bidding. There would be no questioning of her orders; each man would give his life for her if she so wished it. She had been told that speakers had, and were still travelling the length of the country, recruiting even more members to her cause. Spreading the news of her coming, and how she would free the nation from its oppressors.
The main seat of power in Darekia was in a city called Sarus. This small city was just a day's march south from her current position. Once there, her new army would have to remove the few soldiers that were under the control of the current regime. With her numbers now sufficient, this was something she was certain to achieve without too much trouble.
As the morning sun rose over the small hill in South Murati, the previous day's carnage was very much still in evidence. Flocks of birds scrapped and pecked at the mass of bodies. Men, horses and Giganton had all died here; all had been piled together to rot. Such was the ruthless massacre of the Murati soldiers, that many of the corpses were barely even recognisable as such. No prisoners were taken, not that any were prepared to surrender. Despite the Murati fighting bravely, they had succumbed to the overwhelming force against them.
The robed figure, walked slowly around the base of the incline. As usual, he was flanked by his two enormous bodyguards. The Zulani may have massive armies and a whole host of weird creatures fighting for them, but they were not fools. The man had received word this morning of his democratic efforts. His envoy had been sent the minute they had landed, into Besemia. Together with a multitude of gold and jewels, they had managed to broker a 'non aggression pact'. Ultimately, this agreement would mean, providing they did not interfere, Besemia would remain unharmed, for now at least. Although allies in the previous war, the Besemians and Murati were never the best of neighbours, although aside from a few border skirmishes over the years, had remained at peace.
Besemia had been the country most devastated in that previous war. So much so, that in the first years after it, the country had divided. The wealthier south had eventually agreed to re-unite and fund the cost of the necessary rebuilding. As a result, Besemia could ill afford a repeat. Its armies had been scaled back to help cut expenditure. Hence, its leaders were now reluctant to fight somebody else's war.
The Zulani, with this treaty, could now press on further. Safe in the knowledge that their right flank would not be at risk from Murati's neighbour, they could concentrate on annexing these lands into their great empire. Those that stood in their way would be vanquished; the remainder would be collared and taught the ways of the Zulani. Some would be used to further expand the empire further, and be taught the fighting skills needed to do so. Most however, would be allowed to continue in their normal lives, or as normal as things could be when collared. Other similar landings were already being put into action in Corlan and Darekia, and once the ships were in position, would start annexing those lands as well.
Aboard the ship that had taken them north to rescue Hope and only to return without her, Luca and Oliver stood side by side, as they neared the town of Newport. From here, they would disembark and then board a river barge back to New Easton. The small consolation of having rescued the stranded soldiers and sailors was at least something good to be taken from their trip. As to where they could go now, they had no idea. Hope could be anywhere, and with no leads to go on, they would have to pray she could make good her own escape.
The entire trip had been a testing and even somewhat troubling one. The relationship with his stepfather was at an all time low, with Luca troubled by Darak's inability to cope, without getting drunk. He had always known the man to have had drink problems in his younger years, but it was becoming apparent he had returned to his old habits. In a way, Luca felt sorry for him. Although, despite all the current problems, Luca still had great respect for the man. Not everyone would take up the task of bringing three children up, that were not his own. Fortunately, Taylor was with them, and he at least appeared to be helping Darak keep things together. Whether he would remain so, when the moment of telling Sarena that he had returned without their daughter neared, was yet to be seen.
Luca knew he should probably practice his abilities, as he would normally have done with Hope pushing him to do so. Despite wanting to, he just could not be focused enough to concentrate. Even the thought of trying his newer skills, that of controlling animals, could not even persuade him. He was not even sure what state the country was in. When they had left, the future looked uncertain, though early indications that people were still working the docks looked a good sign. This part of the country at least, appeared still intact; perhaps he was worrying over nothing after all.
The transfer from ship to river barge was thankfully not a very drawn out one, and they were soon back on their way. As the craft moved upstream at a painstakingly slow rate, Luca decided it was time to speed things up a little. He would get some form of practice in after all. He had first thought he would be unable to assist the craft, as it had no sails. He had then hit upon the idea of manipulating the water currents. He moved to the rear of the barge, and as usual, Oliver followed behind him. He held his palms out and pictured what he wanted in his mind. The barge jolted forward, and Luca laughed out as it picked up pace. The trip back to New Easton would be over much sooner than anyone had thought.
End of Book One:
A New Threat :
New Chronicles of Elemental Magic.
Book Two : The Zulani Empire
Out Mid 2015
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