The Melaki Chronicle Volume II

by William Thrash

The old man grunted, looking thoughtful. “You defeated the demon. A strong man you must be. You should be king.”

  Terror flooded him. “What? Me? No. I can not.”

  Another counselor tugged Rolovos' sleeve and gave him a look. The old counselor squinted down to the younger man. “Be at ease, Counselor Saral. I know what I am about.”

  “But he is Euskaldani; the people could never trust him.”

  Melaki frowned in irritation. “I am not Euskaldani. I was trained in Altanlea, but Emperor Tarep wants me dead. Look at my features; I am of Itrasca in the Meseditt Empire.”

  Saral looked with curiosity. “Perhaps he could be--”

  “I did not mean to imply I wanted to lead anything. I am a wizard.”

  “But you had the strength to defeat Lagash where none of us even dared try,” said Rolovos.

  He looked down at the muck covering him and shook his head. “I will not even talk of this even to reject it while covered in filth.”

  Saral leaned close to Rolovos. “He even talks like a king. You may be right.”

  Eliam and Galli chuckled.

  Melaki stomped his foot. Did I actually just stomp my foot like some spoiled child? He sighed, shoulders slumping, head shaking in negation. “I would like to get cleaned up.”

  Rolovos straightened, looked around and snapped his fingers.

  Hesitantly, but with more determination, a liveried servant came forward.

  Rolovos thrust his chin at the servant. “Faster next time.” Something of a returning confidence could be heard in the man's voice.

  The servant nodded. “My sorrow, first counselor. How may I serve?”

  “Show these heroes to chambers and have the laundry service set to work on their clothing. And bring me Rada; her crew will have quite a bit of work to do cleaning this filth up.”

  Saral was looking at the altar. “I will have the laborers tear that thing apart.”

  As orders were given in the kingless throne room, Melaki followed the servant out of the former demon's lair.

  * * *

  Adaris, feeling much better, conferred with Rolovos. They stood over a large map table. “You threw everything against the Euskaldani?”

  The counselor shrugged. “Against our judgment. You must understand the demon--”

  “Yes, of course. Pardon me.” He pointed. "Are those accurate?”

  “From the visions Lagash gave, those are.”

  “Amazing. You were winning.”

  “The last any of us heard from him was that the Euskaldani were in full retreat.”

  Adaris tapped the markers and the towns around them. “You stand to conquer at least half of Euskaldani, if not all of it.”

  The counselor sighed. “We had advised King Revos to make peace. He had an ear, but hesitated. Then Lagash took over and the war went in pulling everything with it.”

  “You do not have much of an army left.”

  “No, I am afraid not. What are the intentions of Callacan and Tartessan?”

  “You do not have your own spies?”

  “Executed. Lagash would not suffer their kind.”

  Adaris looked dumbfounded. Information was victory. He stretched, hearing his back creak. Around them, cleaning crews scrubbed the beautiful marble of the throne room. He did not like the idea of the map revealing so much information being in the throne room where every visitor could see it. But who was he to say?

  The counselor studied his face. “You appear to have a quick eye.”

  “I was one of Emperor Oolan's chief spies.”

  “Ah, yes, of course then. Such requires a very sharp mind.”

  “I am not here to steal secrets.”

  The man's eyebrows went up and his voice took on an airy quality. “I would say you do not need to bother stealing what is right before your very eyes.”

  “Why will you not be king?”

  Bushy eyebrows drew down. “Vattonses needs a ruler, no doubt. But Vattonses, more than ever, needs now a strong ruler. One who has not been seen playing puppet to the demon Lagash.”

  Adaris looked down, rubbing his chin. “Troublesome, to elevate one who had. I understand.”

  Melaki walked up, looking very weary. His robes were clean. “Your hospitality here is excellent.”

  Rolovos stood tall, hands behind his back. “As it should be.”

  The wizard looked around. “Galli? The others?”

  Adaris was still looking at the map. “Sleeping. Exhausted.”

  It was not even dinner time.

  “What do you see, Adaris?” Melaki looked with him at the map.

  He pointed. “They were winning. But it took everything they had. They have undefended borders everywhere, just begging for some adventurous force to come in and seize territory. Their supply situation is critical – bandits operate along this primary supply route and not a single guard along the way.”

  “What are your best estimates of their neighbors?”

  He pointed south. “The Tordetani care nothing for Vattonses except war with Tartessan. Their southern border is secure. Even Oolan admitted he would send nothing to the border of Vattonses this year. With the Callacans uninterested in expansion and the Asturjani only interested in Callacan territory, the only viable threats are to the east and northeast.”

  Melaki pointed. “The Vattonses have nothing on the eastern borders?”

  “Nothing,” said Rolovos. “Though the Meseditt peoples have seemed satisfied with the territory they have claimed.”

  Adaris tapped the mountainous region east of Euskaldani. “It is the Jubalites that pose the most threat, but they also war against the Euskaldani.”

  Melaki scratched his cheek. “Seems to me the Vattonses need to pull everything back into a more defensible position while they recover. That range of hills there.”

  Rolovos raised an eyebrow. “And give up almost all of the territory we carved from Euskaldani?”

  Melaki shrugged. “You would still have a good third of what you conquered and you would have the position and time to restore order.”

  Eliam appeared beside Melaki, pointing. “Pardon me for interrupting, but he is right. Far better positions there. Your army needs to be rebuilt.”

  Melaki said to Rolovos, “I would even go so far as to say you should make peace with all of your neighbors around you – even the Euskaldani.”

  Rolovos did not appear to like that. “We have been trying to unite--”

  Melaki cut him off. “It is time to end that. Lagash tried and failed. Rebuilding your empire should be your priority."

  The counselor said, “Adaris tells me you came from Callacan. How do I know you do not give advice colored with Callacan sympathies?”

  The wizard put his fists on his hips. “If I were, I would recommend a strike against the Asturjani. If Adaris were colored, he would recommend a strike against Tordetani. Even Eliam here can see that you need to rebuild your strength.”

  The counselor put his own fists on hips. “And what would you do with that strength, Adaris?”

  The spy looked wide-eyed at the map. “I can only see something for what it is. The Vattonses Empire is in a unique position to strike everyone.”

  Melaki leaned over the map, but looked at Rolovos. “The problem is, Vattonses needs rest and rebuilding. Not more war.”

  Rolovos folded his arms. “And once rested? Who would you war against?”

  Melaki frowned. “No one.”

  “No one?”

  The wizard straightened. “I would rebuild and reorganize until the country is prepared for one of these squabbling little squawking yap-dogs to take a bite. When they do, for they will, I would make sure that country is crushed, conquered, and incorporated into the empire.”

  “Bloodthirsty sort?”

  “Actually no; I prefer peace. War is stupid enough as it is.”

  Eliam growled his approval.

  The wizard continued. “But I know the only response to aggression is overwhelming retalia
tory aggression. You do not let an assassin live who has tried to kill you.”

  Rolovos looked at Adaris. “What do you intend to do now?”

  Adaris heaved a sigh and leaned on the edge of the map. He scanned his eyes over it. “I can not go back.”

  “Oh? And why not?”

  “Oolan has an execution order out for me. I did not follow through on orders I thought were wrong.”

  “Dangerous, for a spymaster.”

  “Indeed. I suppose I will stay here in Vattonses. I might be able to build a usable network and offer my services.”

  Rolovos was scrutinizing him. “A lowly position for one such as you.”

  Surprised, he looked up. “Do not look at me that way.”

  “You and I should talk more.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Melaki let Bellina straighten his robes. They had been at Galvir for four days. Today was a big ceremony out on the highest balcony overlooking a public square. They wanted to festoon him with some medal or other – an award as recognition for his defeat of Lagash.

  “You look handsome,” she said.

  He smiled down at her and gave her a light hug. He liked doing that, more and more. He was always the first to let go, but the hugs were becoming longer.

  Will I ever get over Tila? Will I ever end up forgetting Rashilla?

  Galli's knock was preceded by his entry without waiting for admission. “It is time.”

  Melaki sighed. “Very well, shall we go collect the trinket they want to put around my neck?”

  Galli frowned. “Master. Smile. They give you the recognition you deserve. You can show the medal or amulet or whatever they hang around your neck to your children and grandchildren.”

  He pursed his lips. “I suppose.”

  Outside the door, a liveried steward led the way. Eliam and Tolos fell in behind them. Two Vattonses palace guards brought up the rear.

  The walk from the guest chambers up into the higher apartments was long – the palace was huge. Stairs were climbed and hallways passed. The palace complex itself was almost half the size of the Callacan capital city.

  They reached the counselor's office on the fourth floor of the palace and waited inside. Several counselors were there, one holding a shallow box.

  Rolovos nodded, eyes hidden under bushy brows. He kept clearing his throat. “I am getting too old for this.”

  Saral said, “Your voice carries.”

  “I need to train a replacement.”

  “Nonsense, you have another hundred years in you or more.”

  “I do not think my lungs could handle yelling for another hundred years.”

  Saral was smiling.

  Melaki had noticed the mood in the palace becoming brighter with each passing day – as if the stain of Lagash was slowly leaking away.

  Outside, the distant murmur of the Vattonses crowd drifted up to the fourth floor of the palace.

  “Well, wizard?” said Rolovos. “Are you ready?”

  “I am, and my thanks to you. But an award was not necessary--”

  “We will decide who to award for their deeds that day.”

  Melaki nodded his assent and went silent.

  “Then come.” The counselor's rich voice promised to carry once outside.

  They stepped out and onto a broad and deep balcony. A stone railing kept the safety of those above. An odd copper cone stood mounted and aiming down. Rolovos stepped up to it.

  The liveried servant with Melaki showed him where to stand.

  He looked out and over a wide and spacious plaza within the palace complex. Gates had been opened to allow in the citizens. Although he was four stories up, he felt as if he were very close to the faces looking up at him. Thousands filled the square.

  Eliam and Galli snickered.

  He glared back at them.

  Rolovos put his mouth near the upper end of the cone. “Citizens of Galvir and Vattonses.” His voice was forceful, a yell without the hysteria. The cone carried it down.

  Silence settled over the people.

  “Here today stands the one who defeated and destroyed the demon-king Lagash.”

  Cheers erupted, loud, feverish, and causing a vibration in the air. Rolovos waited, allowing the expression. He did not even raise his hands to calm the crowd. The cheering went on.

  The counselor bearing the shallow box stood on the other side of Rolovos.

  He remembered to lower his hood for the amulet and did so. His motion brought silence to the crowd.

  Rolovos waited, gazing at the people. Then he turned to the other counselor. Opening the box lid, he turned back to the people.

  Melaki saw a flash of silver. A part of the chain, maybe. Gold would have been nice, to match the embroidery on my robe. But he said nothing and showed nothing. They shall award me and I shall proudly wear it.

  Rolovos said loud into the cone, his rich voice echoing over the square, “The people of Vattonses offer their gratitude and appreciation for the daring courage of this man.”

  Bellina was standing behind him and he heard her gasp.

  He glanced back. She was looking at the counselor holding the box. Her eyes were lit with wonder. Oh please, Almighty God, I hope it is not something gaudy.

  “Here today, stands Melaki the wizard to receive our gratitude.” Rolovos turned to the box and lifted something silver, letting it hang in the fingers of both hands.

  He could not see it, but turned and lowered his head as he had been instructed to accept the gift around his neck.

  Rolovos turned.

  Eliam and Galli snickered again.

  Tolos and Adaris were covering their eyes.

  Was it that bad-looking?

  “We honor you, Melaki, Wizard of the Ninth Ward.” The rich voice sounded sure and confident.

  The hands lowered, draping something...

  “BEHOLD CITIZENS OF VATTONSES...”

  ...on his head. The thunder of cheers rose again. On his head was a silver crown.

  “...MELAKI, WIZARD-KING OF THE VATTONSES EMPIRE!”

  Table of Contents

  Other Books by William Thrash

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17