On the ship one of the men with lowered trousers screamed in pain as the barbed arrow caught him high on the shoulder blade. Even from their position on the wharf the warriors could see that it had penetrated all the way through and was protruding from the man’s chest. A cheer rose up on the wharf from the warriors and civilians gathered there.
Now on the deck of the ship there was a shouting of orders and a scrambling of activity. Sails were raised, and the wind filled them. The weight of the ship kept it from moving just long enough for Taggart to fire one more arrow. It didn’t hit any of the pirates, but it made them jump for cover just before it buried itself into the deck. The crewmen of the ship continued their efforts to get the ship moving while keeping something between them and the huge man with the impossibly long-ranged bow. Taggart saw them pitch the body of the man he’d shot over the side.
Then the ship was too far away. Taggart and Toria stood beside each other and watched as it sailed gracefully out of the harbor and gathered speed when it hit the open sea.
Someone grabbed Taggart’s arm and tried to spin him around. He would have been as successful trying to spin a house, but Taggart turned around anyway. Standing before him was the man he had seen with the King’s Sword insignia.
“Who are you, and from which kingdom do you come?” the man asked.
Taggart took a last look at the departing ship. “Most know me by the name Tag-Gar. We are part of a detachment from Olvion sent here in answer to your call.”
The man relaxed. He extended his arm. “I am Jo-Dal, Sword of King Tyner. Welcome and thank you for your assistance. That was a masterful shot.” He looked around. “Where are the rest of you?”
Taggart grasped the man’s wrist in the Olvioni version of a handshake.
At that point Lyyl walked up. He saw Jo-Dal’s insignia and stood stiffly. He executed a salute with a fist over his heart. “Lord Jo-Dal, I am Warrior Lyyl, one of ninety two men and women who were released after the Great War. We heard of the invasion and voluntarily reactivated our service. We have been harassing the enemy and keeping the roads open.”
Jo-Dal looked at both of them. “I had no idea that anyone was acting on our behalf, but again my question is; where are the rest of you?”
Taggart unstrung his bow before answering. “Archer’s Gate has ten thousand warriors heading this way as we speak. By now they have joined up with our force from Olvion and should be nearing our location. If you have any cavalry I would suggest you send out riders to inform them of the new situation. Otherwise they’ll be staging in the outlying areas waiting for a plan of attack.”
Jo-Dal nodded and beckoned to one of his warriors. He gave the woman instructions, and she ran off to carry them out. He looked back to Taggart. “Judging by your size, the gold hair and the blue eyes I would judge you to be the same Tag-Gar who is the hero of the Great War. Some also say you are The Legend”.
“I am Tag-Gar. The rest is for others to decide. Your king? Is Tyner safe?”
“He is. We held the pirates off for days. They are not warriors, little more than rabble really, but they got lucky and found a soft spot under the walls on the water side. They were able to tunnel in a short while ago. They got only a few hundred inside before the alarm was sounded. There was a fight that lasted a while owing to the fact that there were civilians in harm’s way. We had to dig the invaders out of residences and shops all through the stronghold. They were also fortunate in that their tunnel came up right under the clinic and the women’s quarters for unmarried clinic workers. They got away with several dozen women. Took them as slaves.”
Taggart’s blood froze. “Do you know a healer named Dwan? She’s from Olvion.”
Jo-Dal realized the connection. “Yes, Healer Dwan was instrumental in treating King Tyner’s health concerns. We don’t have a full record of people whom we are certain were taken. There were many that ran and others that hid themselves. I have an administrator and several clerks trying to get us a list. We are also still trying to determine how many people were killed.”
“I’ll be needing to see that list, Warrior!”
Jo-Dal nodded. “Of course.”
Taggart turned and hoisted himself back up into the saddle. The lathered charon was tired but willing. He rode off toward the main entrance to the stronghold followed by Toria. Five minutes later he had located a stable, and then he and Toria went searching for anyone who could tell them whether Dwan had been taken. They asked numerous people within the structure, but most of them were still in a state of shock from the attack. He was on the verge of panic when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see an elderly man who was missing one leg and was using a wooden staff and a prosthetic to get around.
“Would you be Tag-Gar of Olvion? I mean…of course you are. Please follow me.”
Taggart started to object, but the man raised a hand to silence him. “No doubt you are seeking the Healer Dwan? His Majesty King Tyner has news of her. He sent me to fetch you.”
Taggart beckoned for the man to lead. Toria walked beside him, watching his expression. The pain etched on his face was difficult to see. She was a bit surprised to see that a man of such immense physical strength could be so affected by his concern for a loved one. Somewhere in a hidden pocket of her heart she recognized that, some day, she would want to have a man that concerned about her.
They followed the elder up to the high point of the stronghold where the entrance to the castle was located. The guards recognized their escort and waved them through. He led them to a large set of double doors on the first level. Instead of knocking he simply pushed open one of the doors and entered. The room within was a large office-type setup. There were fine rugs on most parts of the floor and floor-to-ceiling windows cast bright light into all of the corners. There were several men and women engaged in unidentifiable tasks. Taggart’s size brought most of them to a state of inaction until they roused themselves and went back to their duties.
Their escort led them to a corner of the room in which sat a huge and very ornate desk of carved wood. Sitting at it was a man that Taggart took to be the King. He was seated on a simple chair and speaking with a young woman who was roughly Toria’s age. She had been crying, and King Tyner was apparently trying to calm her. He saw Taggart coming and put a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he stood.
“Ah, Tag-Gar of Olvion no doubt.” He held out his hand, and the two men gripped each other’s wrist. “It’s an honor to meet you in person even under these circumstances.” He gestured to a steward who took two chairs from their place against the wall and brought them over for Taggart and Toria. Taggart was too anxious to be seated, but he could sense that the king wanted to so he and Toria sat facing the monarch.
“This is Glaid, she is an apprentice to your Dwan.” Taggart seemed surprised that Tyner was aware of their relationship. The king read his expression. “Yes, I know about you and Dwan. I dare say everyone in Aspell knows. That is why it pains me to give you this news.”
The king momentarily glanced at Glaid. Taggart stood quickly.
“What is it?” he demanded, forgetting the protocol reserved for a monarch. “Is Dwan here? Is she…”
“The news is not all bad,” Tyner said holding both hands up with the palms out. “Unfortunately it is not good. She is alive and unharmed, at least she was at about midday, but she was definitely among those who were taken by the slavers or pirates or whatever they call themselves.” He leaned over to put a hand on Glaid’s shoulder. “Do you feel like telling him what happened, Dear?”
The young woman nodded. Taggart thought she looked ashamed. A piece of ice had formed in his chest when the king told him Dwan had been taken. He sat impatiently as she wiped her eyes on a cloth.
“Dwan is my friend,” she said to Taggart. “She asked me to stay with her overnight. She said it was because she was afraid of what was happening with the pirates. I knew she was only doing it for me, I was having a hard time with it. We had just gotten inside
her place when we heard the fighting and the alarms. I was…terrified. I couldn’t make myself think, you know?” She looked pleadingly at Taggart as if it were important that he understood the state she’d been in. “I just stood there. Dwan locked me in her wardrobe. She fought them all by herself.” She looked at Toria as if the other woman among them would better understand her. “I wanted to help her, to barricade the door and try to keep them out until help arrived, but…I just couldn’t.” She looked back over to Taggart with eyes brimming with tears. “She was wonderful. I could see out of the slats in the doors, she had a sword, and she fought them. I know she killed at least three of them because they were still on the floor when Lord Jo-Dal came to check on her.”
Somewhere in a far-distant spot in the back of his mind Taggart registered that fact. The King’s Sword himself came to see about her safety.
Glaid continued. “When she killed the last one he sort of fell on her. She was trying to push him off when others came in. They were going to kill her because of what she did to their friends, but another one…they called him a Quartermaster? Anyway, that man told them not to hurt her. He said she was valuable. As a slave.” Her head dropped, and her shoulders shook as she quietly sobbed.
King Tyner signaled the same steward and told him to escort the girl back to her quarters. When they had gone he sat back heavily in his chair and sighed.
“And there it is,” he said. “I wish the news was better. There is a very slight chance that she was able to slip away from them somehow between the courtyard and the ships, but I fear she is gone.” He leaned closer to look more directly at Taggart. “I was very fond of that girl. She is a lovely woman and an excellent healer. I would be on my way to being blind if it were not for her. I want you to know that this kingdom will put everything we have at your disposal should we find a way to track them from wherever it is they came.”
At that moment Jo-Dal entered the office. As he crossed the room to where they sat, Taggart saw for the first time that he was bandaged on one arm and his brow had been nicked by a blade. A small trickle of blood had dried halfway to his cheek. His uniform was torn in several places and there were stains on the left knee which looked like drying blood. He started to salute, but Tyner waved the effort away before it began.
“Sit, my friend,” he commanded. “You must be exhausted. Do your wounds need attending to?”
“No, Your Majesty, they are minor.” The warrior looked at Taggart. “From your expression I gather the news about Healer Dwan is not good?”
“No, it appears fairly certain that she has been taken, but I need answers. I intend to go after her. The king has offered his assistance. I need to know how soon we can mount a pursuit.”
Jo-Dal pulled over the chair that Glaid had been using and sat heavily. He rubbed his face with both hands. “Speed is not the issue. I keep wagons stocked and provisioned to last a hundred warriors for an entire season. We could muster a detail and leave by tomorrow morning, but we have no way to find them.”
Taggart must have looked either shocked or angry because the king quickly interjected.
“You must understand, Good Warrior. These people come from a place that we have never before known existed. They found us because I foolishly sent out an emissary searching for…what? It seems so idiotic now. I have always thought that there were other land masses out there somewhere with exotic people with whom we could interact and trade. We of the three Coastal Kingdoms have never devoted any resources to broaden our horizons.”
“There was no way you could have possibly foreseen these occurrences,” Jo-Dal consoled.
Taggart impatiently interjected. “So, are you saying you have no way to find these people and recover my…our women?”
“That is the situation.” Jo-Dal held up both hands. “They must have intercepted our ship at sea and overtaken it. We saw our engineer when they brought him to the gate, but we have not been able to speak to him or any of our crew members. So we would have no means of detecting where they would be. The pirates did all of the talking.
“The other obstacle that we would have to overcome is the actual transportation. Even if we knew where to go, which we don’t, we have no ships designed for long distance travel on the sea. Our fleet is comprised solely of small trade and fishing vessels. If they stay at sea even overnight it would be unusual. We trade with the other two Coastal Kingdoms, but we are so close to each other that their ships can make the trip in one day. Any rescue ship would have to be large enough to carry a significant number of warriors and the provisions to sustain them for days or weeks at sea. More importantly, they would have to be constructed so that they could withstand the stresses of the sea. We simply don’t have any such vessels, and I am unaware of any of the other Coastal Kingdoms having any.”
Taggart rose from his chair and paced while he thought. The other two men and Toria kept silent.
Taggart looked back at King Tyner. He was surprised to learn of his efforts to seek out other humans on undiscovered continents. In all of his conversations with Dwan and others, Taggart had learned that the prevailing thought was that the continent of Maltania (the one in which the four kingdoms were located) was the only land mass on this world. They qualified this reasoning by noting that there had been no record of contact from the sea. Taggart had always thought that reasoning to be odd since the citizens of the four kingdoms, themselves, had never ventured out on the sea in search of others.
Toria was doing her best to remain silent, but a thought hit her, and she was unable to resist verbalizing it. “Wait. You said the pirates did all of the talking. They spoke our language?”
The king and Jo-Dal both looked at each other with surprised expressions.
“By the Stars,” the king said. “We have been so involved with ensuring the security of the castle and stronghold that we never even realized that.”
Jo-Dal stood. “Yes. They all had strange accents, but they clearly spoke Olvioni.” He looked back at Taggart. “How would that be possible?”
The king held out both hands palms out. “The answer is obvious now. They are connected to us sometime in the past. Wait, let me get something.”
Jo-Dal came over to Taggart while the king searched in a large cabinet located next to his desk.
“I am very sorry about Healer Dwan. If we are able to determine a manner in which to pursue her I will petition the King to allow me to resign as Sword and accompany you. She and the other women were trusting me to provide them with security. I consider their taking to be my personal failure.”
In spite of the situation and his sense of immense frustration, Taggart found himself liking both of these men. He put his hand on Jo-Dal’s shoulder.
“This was not a failure, it was war, an attack upon your kingdom by a larger force. You were successful in holding them off for a long time. It is simple bad fortune that they were able to find a way into the stronghold. If they had taken just one more day to locate it their bodies would be feeding the flies now. The force from Archer’s Gate along with the armies from the other kingdoms would have shown them what happens to those who make war on us.”
“That may be true. I suspect that they had observers on the highest dunes. They would have seen the dust being raised by a force as large as the ones you are describing. When they found the place to tunnel under us they must have already been preparing to slink back to their home port. We watched them loading their ships and assumed they were giving up on the siege.” He shrugged. “They fooled us.”
“Ah! Here it is,” the king shouted.
They went back over to the wall upon which the cabinet was mounted. Next to it was a chart table. The king swept the table clean of other charts and maps which were already on it. He then laid a small rolled scroll on the table and looked to the men. Toria, now almost completely forgotten by the others in the room, wedged herself in between Taggart and Jo-Dal. The king saw her actions and smiled.
“Is this young woman a relation?” he as
ked.
“My friend,” he responded.
Tyner smiled at her then turned serious again. He slowly and carefully unrolled the stiff animal skin scroll. Once fully opened he placed a small metal weight at each corner to hold it open. Taggart looked at it. It was about the size of a normal hardback book. It had that appearance that all really ancient things had. The king was engaged in silently reading the text that was written on it, his lips moving.
“Yes! Here it is.” He looked up at the men and down at Toria. “This scroll is from the time of the first Great War. This part,” he pointed to a line of text, “tells of a large group of our people who fled the coming war. Groups from all of the coastal kingdoms were convinced that Olvion would not be able to hold the Lion’s Road against the onslaught of the Grey Ones. They banded together on fishing vessels and other boats and ships that were in use at that time and simply sailed away.” The king looked up. “There were thousands of them. The scrolls refer to them as “The Lost”. There was never any word of them in any of the other scrolls that I have studied, and I have studied most of them. It is my preferred pastime. I trade ancient writings with King Pryus and King Minos. Never have I seen even one additional mention of those lost people.”
Taggart considered this for a moment. “It would appear more likely than not to me that these pirates are the descendants of those people. The common language cannot be explained any other way, but,” he sighed and wiped his face with his hands. “the information does not really help us, does it?”
The king and Jo-Dal both looked defeated. That was how Taggart felt also. He was on the verge of taking the largest fishing boat in the harbor and sailing out to search the sea for Dwan. He had no experience in sailing and did not have the first idea as to how it was accomplished, but he was ready to try. He could not simply do nothing. He was still pondering his next move when the doors to the office swung open, and a warrior rushed in. She crossed the room and saluted first King Tyner, then Jo-Dal.
The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion Page 24
