The Southern Trail (Book 4)

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The Southern Trail (Book 4) Page 1

by Jeffrey Quyle




  The Corsairs that circled around him looked at him with a new expression in their eyes, a wary confidence that suddenly, victory over the great Docleatean warrior was in reach – now that he was isolated from assistance or escape. One of them shouted something, and four blades simultaneously thrust forward at him.

  Marco’s body twisted to the right, as his sword also launched itself to defend him against the attackers on the right. One unfortunate Corsair on the left found that without any contact from Marco or his blade, the man was unable to stop his momentum, and he thrust his way forward past Marco and out the hole in the hull, causing him to plummet cleanly through the air on his way down to the sea.

  Marco’s sword blocked two other attackers cleanly, but the third man tried to do something different and thrust his sword low. Marco’s sword chopped down in reaction once the first two attackers were repelled, but it provide too late to be fully effective, and Marco felt a slice open up on the front of his thigh.

  Marco flinched, and he partially collapsed, but raised his sword in time to protect himself from a second series of attacks. He tried to rise, but then a third series of attacks came, and Marco found himself suddenly confused, in pain, and off-balance as his sword flew crazily about to try to keep him alive.

  And then he realized he was falling towards the water. He hit the water, and he thought he heard himself speaking in an outlandish series of clicks and squeaks, as he desperately asked for help, though he knew none was coming. The water was warm, and the mid-morning sun was bright, but his heavy sword was dragging him down, and he refused to release the weapon, struggling instead to hold on to it and still return to the surface with the efforts of his free hand and uninjured leg.

  Fantasy Series by Jeffrey Quyle

  Alchemy’s Apprentice Series

  The Gorgon’s Blood Solution

  The Echidna’s Scale

  Scarlet from Gold

  The Southern Trail

  The Inner Seas Kingdoms Series

  The Healing Spring

  The Yellow Palace

  Road of Shadows

  A Foreign Heart

  Journey to Uniontown

  The Ingenairii Series

  Visions of Power

  2. At the Seat of Power: Goldenfields and the Dominion

  3. The Loss of Power: Goldenfields and Bondell

  4. The Lifesaving Power: Goldenfields and Stronghold

  5. Against the Empire

  6. Preserving the Ingenairii

  7. Rescuing the Captive

  8. Ajacii and Demons

  9. The Caravan Road

  10. The Journey Home

  Also by Jeffrey Quyle

  The Green Plague

  For more information, visit the Ingenairii Series on Facebook, www.facebook.com/ingenairiiseries

  The Southern Trail

  Alchemy’s Apprentice Series

  Book 4

  Jeffrey Quyle

  List of Characters

  Marco, Marquess of Sant Jeroni, alchemist

  Mirra, Barcelon daughter of Coosie, mother of Sybele

  Iasco, high priestess of the Order of Ophiuchus

  Folence, Barcelon priestess of Ophiuchus

  Siplin, duke of Barcelon

  Ophiuchus, the spirit of the island

  Mitment, a former guard of the island

  Diotima, a water spring spirit

  Iamblichus, a Docleatean sorcerer

  Moraca, King of Docleatae

  Prince Mersby, grandson of King Moraca

  Prince Ellersby, grandson of King Moraca

  Princess Ellersbine, daughter of Ellersby

  Fara, Ellersbine’s steward

  Count Argen, member of Moraca’s court

  Colonel Varsen, Docleatean officer in the army

  Duchess Rhen, lady in waiting for Ellersbine

  Captain Fyld, Docleatean officer

  Princess Grace, wife of Prince Mersby

  Wilh, foot soldier for Docleatae

  Nestor, leader of village in Rurita

  Corinne, Nestor’s wife

  Dale, descendant of kingdom of Prester John

  Gwen, Dale’s mother, Iasco’s look-alike

  Gaddis, steward of the Foulata palace

  Madame Lafarge, harem keeper in Foulata palace

  Giselle, member of the harem

  Prologue

  Marco was an under-achieving apprentice in a prestigious alchemy shop in the Lion City, one of the most powerful trading metropolises of the cities from the former empire that Clovis had governed. On a fateful day, a strange, unknown elderly woman gave him a coin, and a threatening stranger frightened him into swallowing the coin.

  Marco became suddenly proficient in alchemy, showing promise. But before his promise could be realized, he was caught up in a raid on the city by a band of brutal Corsairs, aided by a powerful sorcerer who traveled with them.

  Marco escaped the Corsair ship in a storm, and landed on an enchanted island, Ophiuchus, where he met Lady Iasco, leader of a powerful cult. He then went on to the city, Barcelon, where he found work in a dying alchemy shop.

  Marco healed and helped a young mother, Mirra, and then helped save the city from both a plague and a raid by the Corsairs and their sorcerer-leader.

  Afterwards, injured in a fall, Marco was sent to Ophiuchus for healing. From there he was commanded to go in search of a mythical monster, the Echidna. His journey to find the Echidna and steal a scale became an epic winter journey through treacherous mountain heights, accompanied by three companions who bonded with him as their trip was beset by challenges and dangers.

  They battled the Echidna, and escaped with a scale in hand, but then travel through the underworld to find a path to freedom. And the path proved to have challenges of its own, so that Marco became separated from the others, and emerged from the underworld in a different location, alone, and without his memories.

  But he went on to use the scale to carry out a miracle of alchemy, and restored Lady Iasco to life, and helped her scour evil forces from many cities, before setting out on a campaign to liberate the city of Athens from evil as well.

  .

  Chapter 1

  The ship was in the midst of a vast fleet that sailed through the night in the warm waters of the central sea. Marco was awake, lying in the bunk in his cabin, thinking about the adventure that would begin to unfold in the morning. He was on board a ship that was part of the Nappaneen fleet; it and a few others carried the small army contingent that Grand Prince Neapole had grudgingly contributed to the army that was floating towards a great battle.

  “We’re not going to sneak up on them,” Lady Iasco had told the leaders who had assembled to discuss strategy during the meetings held in the cathedral at Valletta in Malta. “They must know something about our plans already, if they’ve tried to infiltrate our temples and courts,” she referred to the story Marco had narrated about the sorceress in the Lion City who kidnapped Lady Lavis in the Temple of Ophiuchus, then tricked the Doge.

  But nonetheless the united forces under Iasco were attempting to sneak up on the Docleatean army that occupied Athens. Athens was close to the lands of the old empire, too close for the nations of the old empire to feel comfortable allowing King Moraca, the ruler of the Docleatae, to maintain his capture of the city. Moraca was hungry for power and conquest, sending his armies rolling farther and farther north; with the capture of Athens, the Docleateans were too close to the Lion City and Barcelon and the rest of the nations that had once been ruled from Clovis and Reme.

  Lady Iasco saw the threat the southern armies posed, and she understood the greater threat that King Moraca himself posed with his sorcerer servants out seeking to find the ingredients
needed to grant the evil king eternal life. Already, one such powerful sorcerer had used the Corsair raiders to carry him among the western cities looking for rare alchemy ingredients such as gorgon’s blood.

  Marco’s Nappaneen ship was headed towards the Gulf of Corint, to the small village of Andikara. Marco and the soldiers from Nappaneen would disembark there and march overland towards Athens, to open a battlefront on the landward side of the city, hopefully catching the Docleateans unprepared; at the very least, Marco hoped his force would draw a portion of the city’s attention away from the landing of the main invasion force on the seaward side of the city.

  Lady Iasco had assigned Marco to fight with the men from Nappanee. “You’re the most powerful weapon we have, and these men will need your help,” she said. It was commonly acknowledged by all the leaders of the fighting alliance that the forces from venal Nappanee were poorly trained, poorly equipped, and had poor morale.

  Marco thought about how he would take the men toward Athens, walking through the countryside – so near to the spring of Diotima – though he had no intention of letting the men know about, or muddy the waters, of the spring. The trip from Andikara to Athens had taken Ophiuchus and him two days to walk. The soldiers in his army, hauling weapons and supplies, and with little in the way of a positive spirit, would take three days, Marco felt sure.

  They reached Andikara the next morning, five ships full of men ready to go to war, and the process of unloading so many men and so much material at the small port took most of the day. Marco directed that the men who did unload begin to immediately march out of town for two hours, and they set up camp in fields and olive groves near a small country cemetery; Marco had his tent pitched at the end of the campsite furthest from the cemetery, so that he would not hear the murmured conversations of the dead who were buried there. That night the camp fires burned brightly, and Marco conversed with the generals who reported to him, as they discussed their approach to Athens.

  The next day was the first full day of travel along the narrow country road that Marco and Ophiuchus had walked in the spring time. The going was slow, and the approach to Athens turned out to require four days of marching. By the middle of the fourth day they reached the outskirts of the city, and found that they were late to the engagement – the battle was already under way.

  Chapter 2

  Marco led the men from Nappanee into the streets of Athens, and found those western-facing streets lightly defended. The forces of the Docleatae army were on the eastern side of the city, where Iasco’s larger force, the men from Marseals, the Lion City, and Barcelon were carrying out the invasion from the seaside of the city. Marco’s force was small; the army from Nappanee had shrunk during the trip to Athens, as men deserted every night, but those who remained were the most loyal and willing to fight, and the lack of real resistance for the first twenty minutes of their push into the city gave them confidence, until they reached the city walls, where Docleatean soldiers raised the alarm over the arrival of new forces.

  Walking through the unguarded streets outside the city wall had been simple. The native Athenians had been delighted to see liberators appear, as the Nappaneen army had filtered in through numerous streets, several squads assigned to each street. There had been no resistance until they arrived at the narrow street that ran along the exterior of the city wall; as they followed the exterior of the wall to find its gate openings, they were spotted by sentries who shouted the warning about the new force on the west side of the city.

  That’s when the men of Nappanee received their first taste of battle, as the thin-spread Docleatean archers atop the wall had fired their arrows at the men below, and driven them back into the protection of the alleys and doorways where they hid. A few began to shoot back, but not many, and not well.

  Marco was with a pair of squads that heard the shouts of others, before his own group was fired upon. He had been leading men towards the gate in the city wall when arrows flew upon them.

  Marco heard the man behind him shout in pain, and he turned to see an arrow protruding from the man’s shoulder. He gathered the man up and carried him to safety within a shopkeeper’s doorway. As he glanced around the corner of the doorway, he saw the gates slam shut, cutting him and his men off from their goal of entering the city and attacking the Docleateans from the rear.

  More and more archers were appearing on the top of the wall, and more arrows were falling among his men. He could see some wounded men lying in the streets, suffering, and he knew he had to take action to change the situation – as the leader of the forces, and as the person who had demanded their involvement, he felt obligated to do something.

  The Docleateans were wearing black and red uniforms as they fought to slaughter the Nappaneen men. Marco focused on a segment of the wall near the gate, where several archers were visible, and he pointed his hand as he focused his energy, then released a fireball of energy that struck the wall and exploded it inwards, tearing open a way to enter the city. He pointed at the section of the wall directly in front of his own position, then did the same thing.

  He was immediately engulfed in a cloud of dust from the destruction of the wall. Knowing that he was momentarily safe, Marco left the shelter of the shop door and ran into the open air, where he could see his next target.

  “Sorcerer! They’ve got a sorcerer!” he heard shouts coming from inside the city.

  “In! Let’s get in now men! Come on soldiers of Nappanee! In we go to the Acropolis!” Marco shouted. “To the Acropolis!” he repeated.

  “The Acropolis!” he heard others shout, and he saw men starting to emerge from their safe spots. He set an example and ran up onto the rubble of the blasted wall. He could see chaos inside the city, as fallen Docleateans rose, confused, while a few remained still on the ground. Others followed Marco, and they quickly had a score of men inside the wall, protecting the opening as more men started to scramble in.

  The Acropolis was visible, rising overhead less than a mile away. Even though the skies overhead were cloudy, the white marble buildings on top still appeared bright, standing out in the gloom. “Let’s go up this road!” Marco pointed with his sword at a broad avenue that offered the opportunity to swiftly penetrate deep into the city.

  "Station men here to protect our rear, my lord," one of the officers suggested.

  "Good advice," Marco told the man. "You select the squads, while I start leading the others forward."

  There were people cheering, distracting Marco to look at what might be happening, until he realized that the people were more of the native residents, cheering for the appearance of the Nappanee forces. It would be ironic that the purple, red, and yellow uniforms of the corrupt nation of Nappanee would be considered the colors of heroes by these people, Marco thought to himself, but such was the situation.

  Then again, perhaps these men, having been part of a noble cause, would go back to their homes and no longer be satisfied with the course of life as usual in the Grand Prince's corrupt realm.

  Marco waved his arm, and the mass of men who had gathered at the breach in the wall began to follow as they started to trot forward. His goal was to seize control of the Acropolis. His forces were late in their arrival at the city because of their slow travel; they had originally been expected to draw the attention of the Docleatean forces away from the sea to provide an easy arrival for the main force, but instead they had become the forces with the easier way.

  There was the sound of an immense explosion on the far side of the city, and then another. Marco and his men continued to move forward, as they saw a column of smoke start to rise on the east side of the city. It was the likely work of sorcerers, Marco assumed.

  A flight of arrows suddenly appeared, coming from a side road, and heading towards Marco and the other leaders of the Nappanee forces. Panicked, Marco waved his hand to throw up a shield of energy that blocked all the arrows; each shaft struck the translucent barrier and bounced to the ground.

  Marco felt
someone slap his back in thanks, while he saw some of his own men aim their bows at the ambushers.

  He dropped his shield and shouted, “Fire!”

  A staggered flight of arrows left the Nappaneen bows and flew towards the Docleatean targets, wounding many of the soldiers who formed the line of attack there.

  “Now, charge them!” one of the officers called, and Marco watched as a group of the men in the purple uniforms began running towards the attackers, who began to retreat down the side road. Marco prepared to go after them, as they chased the city’s defenders south, when two events raised noise at once, distracting his attention.

  Behind him, to the west, where the breach in the city wall was being defended as their potential escape route if they were forced to withdraw, shouts and screams erupted when a large mass of soldiers in the Docleatean black uniforms appeared and overwhelmed the rearguard of the Nappanee army, forcing them into the city toward Marco. At the same time, there was an explosion immediately to his north, blowing the top off one of the stone buildings that lined the boulevard, and crushing a handful of Nappaneen soldiers with debris from the collapsing structure; a sorcerer had come to join the battle against Marco’s forces.

  Chapter 3

  “Pull those men back!” Marco shouted at the officer who was following the Nappaneen chase southward along the side street. “Pull them back and keep our men together! We need to set up our defense at the Acropolis! Go get them!”

  “What about the sorcerer over there?” a foot soldier shouted, and pointed at where a man in a black robe was stepping out into the street near the blasted ruins of the building, only a score of yards away from Marco.

  “I’ll fight him! You get everyone headed east to the Acropolis,” Marco urged, as he pushed his way past the soldier and towards the sorcerer.

 

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