Consequences Within Chaos

by Derek Barton

  “—I can get us more help and even some healers as well. With the outer two walls destroyed, we are just keeping the Viestrahl back and biding our time. Sooner or later they will get through. When one or both Steppe Walls fail…”

  “We know. I have already ordered preparations for emergency evacuation through the cliff tunnels and the hidden boats at the docks.”

  Taihven threw off her hands and forced his way onto his feet. “I am not letting him take our homes! He has stolen too much from us already.”

  He muttered the words and an ivory Gate Ring popped open and Taihven stormed off through it.

  #3

  The stagecoach rolled slowly to a rest. Auste was still nearly a mile away from the battle and the Adventdawn Castle. He had no real need yet to risk being any closer so he sat quiet and mused over his possible options.

  Ramnethas was crumbled over on his left side, the dagger protruding from his breast. Ichor dripped from dozens of cuts and holes and pooled upon the baseboards by their feet. A rotting wormy odor began to fill the coach.

  He was anxious and frustrated. This was again unfamiliar, emotional territory for him. Auste had lost connection to two of his Konn-Cabal members. During the seventeen prison years, he had encountered a rare few setbacks in all his planning up to now.

  Auste bent over a small table that had three amber gems which soaked in little bowls in front of him. Each of his Cabalers had given him their life ichor and were bonded to these gems.

  He waved his fingers again lightly over each of them and focused his mental energies. No thoughts or even emotions came to him. The void meant that the two Viestrahl leaders had to be dead.

  What did I miss? The Wyvernguard were too overwhelmed to make a successful assault from the castle. Were they more prepared than he had anticipated? His worries flared in his mind like a thunderstorm.

  The last gem was not completely void, but only held a thread of connection.

  What has happened? His question whipped out at the Viestrahl leader. He put as much energy as he could into it.

  No answer came to him, but a vision of dirt-caked stone and damp darkness gave him an idea of where the last member was.

  “Why have you left your post?” he roared aloud in the coach.

  Outside a knock came from one of his escort bodyguards.

  “Stay out! Keep to your post, you filth!” Auste cursed at him.

  Master… Master…

  The member called out to him.

  Master? The humans jumped us. I had to escape into the tunnels. But—but I am lost. Cannot find my way out.

  How did they get to you? I had no one reporting a charge.

  No, not from the castle, but from behind us. A white ring popped open and the humans poured out before we could react. It was as if they walked out of the air and appeared inside the tents. Horrible, horrible sorcery, Master!

  That was it then. The Horde was now useless and their part in his plan was prematurely over. He hoped for more disruption and havoc in the human ranks, but without their Konn-Cabal lead, they had no control.

  Perhaps he somehow underestimated Wyvernshield’s magical capabilities or maybe he was not in touch with their skill levels.

  NO! This had to have been hidden! The maid deceived me. That bitch kept it from me. When he took the throne, he would be sure to make her suffer such unbelievable and unending pain for her part in this.

  Master Gru’Renthral? I am so lost. Please help me, savior. Help me out of the blackness.

  DIE! I am done with you! Starve in the dark, damn you!

  Auste closed his eyes and used his powers to shred the last of the beast’s sanity. He could feel the terror building as it sunk into the depths of its primal fear. The intensity of its horror almost appeased Auste’s rage. He sent the leader screaming blind. As he fed upon the Cabaler’s final shreds of consciousness, it collided with a stone wall. It writhed against and dug at the stone with its bare hands.

  Auste opened his eyes, grinned and then swept his arms over the table to fling the bowls to the floor.

  Ramnethas was dead. Gru’Renthral and the Horde were useless and the Konn-Cabal members were dead or lost.

  Yet, Auste got what he wanted overall. He needed the moat gate breeches. Needed the death and chaos within the city’s streets to occupy the Wyvernguard and the citizenry. Now he had the opportunity to take his Throne. It was time to get his blood debt from the Artadeus line once and for all.

  Afterwards, he would regather and marshal over the Viestrahl clans again. This time though not under the guise of a false god. No, he thought, this time I will show them true power and they would take to their knees for me!

  Auste leaned over and extracted the long serrated blade from Ramnethas’ corpse. He caught his reflection in its metal shaft. His face and skin were prematurely aged, wrinkled and a milky white. His eyes burned a neon pink. The forced imprisonment in the Soul Render had transformed him into an albino. It was another crime that the Artadeus family would repay.

  His wrath would never be satisfied.

  #4

  Dusk and an uneasy calm had settled over the castle. The fading light of the day had signaled the last of the erratic charges from the Horde. The massive force sprawled out in camps all around the torn down moat gates.

  The last two moat gate walls that stood were still bombarded upon the first of every hour. Echoes from boulder strikes met by lightning shots from the Balshazra were heard in an almost constant give-and-take rhythm.

  Captain Ruessard had reported to Queen Demetryce earlier that the overall tactics and efforts by the beasts had become chaotic and unorganized. The Balshazra lizards were also keeping the Viestrahl at a distance and somewhat subdued. He attributed it to the loss of the Konn-Cabal members. Soldiers were still posted all along the breached moat walls and among the strewn boulders. The Viestrahl were never known to attack in the dark, but nothing was being left to chance.

  Queen Demetryce worked at a desk set in one corner of the main infirmary. She had been here all nightfall helping and lending her Mending skills. Every bed in the hall was filled and some wounded had even been laid on the floor among the cots.

  Taihven laid motionless in a cot near to her, an arm thrown over his eyes. He was sleeping so deep.

  Just got him back — I do not want to lose my son in this! The impulsive worry flashed in her mind.

  She paused at that thought. Son? It had been a long while since she referred to Taihven as her son, especially in her inner thoughts.

  A sound, a melodic chant broke her musing. She glanced over at the man, one of the Duradramyn healers that Taihven brought back with him. He was introduced as Ara Yve Seld, a Master Mender for his race of people in the world called Aberrisc. It was further proof that Taihven was not insane or even had a mental condition. The prince had been another victim of Auste Cros’seau. The Duradramyn healer in grey leather robes glided among the wounded of the room going from stretcher to stretcher.

  Earlier reports had come in that none of the little green lizards that Taihven called Eulocths could be spotted and were presumed to have been killed off.

  All these outside forces and allies were all due to her valiant son’s efforts and resourcefulness. The link that had always plagued his life, now became a dangerous weapon for him to wield. Demetryce was not sure how to handle this new Taihven, a young man that was once her meek son. He was and would always be a Cros’seau to her, but now he stood tall like an Artadeus. More like the father that raised him than the bloodline that flowed through his veins.

  She sat next to Letandra, her daughter and the first ever Lady Magistrate. The girl had grown into a powerhouse herself and could maneuver the political waters with ease and grace. Letandra was working out the details on reinforcing the torn down sections of the castle walls. She paid no attention to the wounded or her queen.

  In her heart of hearts, Demetryce knew it was long past time to make amends with Taihven.

  Wake him and
apologize for all my actions against him? Wake him up and be the mother he really deserved? Wake him and start anew.

  She had started several times within the last hour to get up and go to him, but each time she faltered and then returned to her chair. She felt unfamiliar feelings stirring in her.

  You cannot fight yourself any longer. Go to him, she chided herself.

  She got up, but marched past his cot and into the bitter air. Coward!

  Lesser wounded soldiers had been placed outside of the infirmary in a hospelle tent. These men reached out and begged her for aid.

  Demetryce frowned and ignored their pleas. She needed time alone and a place to speak aloud with Haedrec. He had been dead for over a month, but she still found it comforting to speak and vent her thoughts to him.

  Refugees were also crowding the courtyards in ragged tents and braved the nightfall hours gathered in groups around makeshift fires.

  Unlike the soldiers, many of the former farmers, merchants and peasants only bowed and whispered their well wishes to their queen.

  At the edge of the camps, one old man hunched over a meager fire and ate a bean stew from a rusted pot. He heard her coming and locked his glare upon her.

  She smiled in response, “Good eve. Are you fairing well?”

  The old albino was wrapped in torn blankets and had a scarf wound over his head and under his chin. His angry pink eyes flashed at her. The hatred took her aback and set her upon her heels. His boldness shocked and offended her.

  “Have you lost any of your kin today?” he demanded in a growl.

  “Excuse me?” she whispered, her voice lost to her.

  “NO! After you lose your family, your blood and everything you own, you can come back to me and smile like that!”

  She was at a loss for words and fled away from him. Tears from the day’s events and the albino’s words flooded her cheeks.

  She raced into the Castle Proper and escaped into her apple-rose tree sanctuary in the Gardens.

  PART XIII — FIGHT FOR THE THRONE:

  Dawn of Shaladar 5th~~

  #1

  Auste woke next to the fire pit, the heat washing over him and keeping the chill from his body. All the years in the Soul Render had made him weak physically and his body was vulnerable. He discovered that he did not like the changes in temperature and the muscles in his back and arms ached non-stop.

  After you lose your family, your blood and everything you own, you can come back to me and smile like that!

  The words replayed in his mind and he regretted that exchange. He had unnecessarily exposed himself and she would easily remember the verbal assault. The queen had not recognized him — he had been just a young lad when he was imprisoned, but it was dangerous and a reckless maneuver at this time in his plans.

  Auste had rarely been provoked into letting his emotions dictate his actions and this outburst had troubled him.

  His intricate plan had been in motion for years. He could not let emotion destroy all that he worked so hard upon for this day.

  Perhaps it was just the queen’s sudden appearance that had caught him unprepared. Truth be told, he was fortunate she had not sent the guards to arrest him. Few would have dared to speak to royalty in such fashion.

  Slumped in the chair, he had fumed at the sight of Demetryce. It had taken time to regroup and sleep had overcome him. It resulted in six or seven hours of restlessness and stressful dreams.

  His stomach grumbled with hunger. He answered it with a deep sigh.

  Hunger and sleep were not needed in the Soul Render. Sleep was just as foreign to him as was the need for foods. It was all unnerving and left him defenseless. It will take time to adjust, he thought to himself.

  In another hour or so the First Sun will rise and most likely the first of the Viestrahl charges over the broken moat gates.

  None of the other refugees had moved close to him or asked to join his company. Something seemed to set him apart and none of them wanted to be near him. They somehow sensed he was not with them. It had not bothered him in the least — he would be feared and hated when he was on the Throne and it mattered little to him.

  Auste yanked the hood of his robe over his head and hid his face from winds and suns. After he doused the fire with the remnants of his cold supper, he abandoned everything there.

  A file of Wyvernguard passed in front of him. He followed the likely reinforcements to one of the broken patches of wall. He wanted to find one of their leading officers, a valuable puppet for this part of his plan.

  Sergeant Devin sat at a bench and impromptu table made of crates. He was reading reports and notating directions. The battalion of soldiers scrambled in the dark shadows of the torchlights and made anxious preparations. They knew as well that the Viestrahl would be coming in the first hours. Auste settled back in an archway next to a merchant shop and waited for the target to give him the perfect opportunity.

  Ten minutes passed and then Sergeant Devin stood by himself next to the crates, lost in obvious thought and reconsidering his battle tactics.

  Auste lashed out and ensnared the soldier’s mind with a mental barrage. Devin stumbled forward and reeled back and forth on his heels. He dug deeper into the man, blitzing him with mental assaults to stun him. Three whips later the sergeant stood still, but was mentally unconscious — a blank canvas.

  He began to control and guide the soldier away from the busy command post. Carefully, he rifled through Devin’s thoughts, memories and read the Wyvernguard’s battle formations and intentions.

  Where is Princess Letandra? He implored the soldier. Go to her now.

  By subconscious reflex, the Devin-puppet headed off toward the Castle Proper. Perhaps, Auste reflected, she is alone and in her bedroom quarters.

  At the Castle Proper, four heavily-armored men stood with shortswords on their sides and long pikes in hand. They nodded in recognition of Sergeant Devin.

  Auste improvised the words for Devin, “Bring the princess down. There is a new development with the Viestrahl.” The speech came out Ba-ring da pencess down. Thar is a new develpment with them Viestraw.

  The highly-trained guard made no obvious recognition to the slurred speech, but a question flashed in his eyes. He gave a sharp salute and then entered the Castle Proper. “Yes, sir. I will bring her at once.”

  Four minutes droned on.

  The guard returned alone to the post and reported, “Princess Letandra did not return here nightfall and has been commanding the East Quarter Detail all morning, Sir.”

  Auste fumbled for a response. He changed his plans on the fly. “Understood.”

  In Devin’s mind, he found what he needed. He instructed Sergeant Devin, Go to the East Quarter and bring her to your quarters. Bring her alone!

  The mental strain began to wear upon him and as the two went into opposite directions, his brain seemed to swell against his skull and a throbbing pulse echoed in his ears.

  #2

  Letandra caught sight of Sergeant Devin as he shambled across the dusty merchant field and through the crowd of soldiers. He dragged his feet as if his legs were sore.

  “Are you alright, Sergeant Devin?” she asked before he made it to her.

  He ignored her question and stated in a flat tone, “I found something new in the Crellen visions. I have to show you now. Please.”

  Letandra frowned at the abruptness of the veteran soldier’s attitude and sipped at her mug of hot Brulla as she considered his request. She was in the middle of assembling another ranger attack and could not afford any interruptions.

  She pointed to another soldier, Corporal Dhaska, as she was going over instructions for the charge. The new recruit had been assigned into the ranger class just weeks before. “This is far too important for me to leave just now. Maybe she c—”

  “—No, now!” he barked at her.

  “Are you sure you are alright? If I did not know better, I would command you to…”

  He snatched her arm and commenced t
o drag her behind him.

  “Hey!” She protested.

  “I am too tired to explain, but this is important,” Devin said over his shoulder.

  Letandra on gut impulse went with him. She had had problems sleeping the last few days herself, but the barrel-like soldier who had a solid hold on her arm seemed to be on the brink of a mental collapse. Warfare had been known to change men and under pressure caused others to crack and lose control. She struggled to believe that this is what was happening to the sergeant.

  Sergeant Devin had risen to his current rank in the Wyvernguard faster than most. He had always struck Letandra as rock steady and dependable. At least up until today. The last thing the city needed was their military officers or rulers folding under the strains of battle.