Rising Vengeance (The Anarian Chronicles Book 1)

by Stephen Trolly

  “We have discussed in depth everything that must be gone into,” he began. “But what about subjects the Morschcoda have left untouched for years? The time has come when the Morschcoda must decide whether or not we are answerable to anyone. We must discuss Eliish Del Anaria.”

  Everyone was shocked at Dalasin’s approach to the topic of the Throne of Anaria. Taren and Marrdin, who had each long felt that the Throne had for too long lacked an occupant, were no less shocked, but they were more pleased about Dalasin’s proposal than they were willing to let on. Erygan looked almost horrified. Interrupting Ranny would already lose her support, not that that mattered. The words Dalasin had chosen would offend the rest of the Morschcoda anyway. Taren exchanged brief glances with Kallin and Marrdin, both of whom nodded, and then decided he must crush Dalasin before he could do any more damage.

  “Morschcoda Dalasin, this is your first year attending The Councils as the Morschcoda of Noldoron. What makes you think that we who have been on this council for years or centuries have not discussed the Throne of Anaria? And what makes you feel that the Morschcoda should be answerable to anyone? We rule the nations entrusted to us as we will, not as others deem fit. It has been that way since the fall of the High Kings and Queens over twenty thousand years ago, and this council was in place before they existed at all.”

  “I didn’t think that the Morschcoda should have an authority any higher than they, but …”

  “Then why did you bring up the Throne in the first place?” He did not wait for the answer that he knew would not come. “Surely you did not think that you could take it for yourself if you were the one to present it to the council.”

  “No Morschcoda Taren, I didn’t, but …”

  “Then you had no reason to bring it up at all, and I move that Morschcoda Dalasin’s demand that we discuss Eliish Del Anaria and any possible occupants of it be removed from the records of this session of council.”

  “I second the motion,” said Daliana.

  “Good, now let us forget Morschcoda Dalasin’s demand and instead focus on what we came to Dishmo Kornara to accomplish. Is there anything that any of the Morschcoda have not said before today that cannot wait until tomorrow, which is to be our final session of this year, thank all the gods?”

  “No, there is not” said all of the other nine Morschcoda together.

  “Excellent. Council is adjourned for the rest of today.”

  * * * * *

  Searching with his mind for that of Taren’s, Erygan asked him to the Torridestan rooms that night.

  “Well, Erygan?” Taren said as he arrived in his own particular way. “Hello, Erygan?” He tried a second question, trying to get some kind of response.

  “Why did you practically destroy Dalasin today? Why lend him strength yesterday only to crush him?”

  “No hello Taren? It’s good to see you Taren? Nothing?” Erygan took it as natural, though Taren knew well that any other Morschcoda would be baffled by his opening. He sighed, and then laughed. They both laughed. And then sitting, the two men pulled out their pipes, filled them, and began smoking. Taren’s peculiar blend from El Redro Delshoi mingled its scent with Erygan’s harsh Ristan weed to form a not unpleasant aroma. “You know perfectly well why I did that Erygan” Taren said around the pipe clamped in his teeth. “Dalasin is weak. Perhaps too weak even to be Morschcoda. Those who cannot hold their own on this council should be removed from it before they can do damage either to the Morschcoda Council itself or to the country that they represent.”

  “Dalasin won’t be removed, not by the council at least.”

  “No, but now Dalasin knows his place in the chamber. He is barely old enough for the position, and I can’t see how the Great Houses in Noldoron chose him to be Morschcoda.”

  “For the rest of his House, and not him personally, I assure you. But you were younger, far younger, than Dalasin when you became Morschcoda.”

  “I was my father’s heir.”

  “Your father was removed from the council.”

  “Yes, by me. Since House Garrenin continued, and I had stood against him in the acts that lost him both his seat and his head, I was named Morschcoda by my people. There was nothing wrong with me taking the seat.”

  Erygan shrugged. “Aside from you being the one to take his head, you mean. And aside from the reason that your sword has a name? Oh, and aside from the many reasons you used to be known as the Prince of Chaos?”

  “At least I am not in the pocket of the Merchants’ Conclave.” Erygan groaned. Taren never failed to bring up the fact that it was the Merchant Princes and not the Night Council that controlled the daily happenings of Torridesta. “Now, Eliish Del Anaria, I ask you?”

  “You want the Throne of Anaria filled more than I do.”

  “That makes no difference. Dalasin was not the man to start that argument, nor is it my idea of a topic to end The Councils.”

  “Well, The Councils end tomorrow regardless.”

  “Without having degenerated into a war. That makes twenty-one years now.”

  “I would not count so soon. You have done more damage to me this year than I think you realize.”

  “I know exactly what I’ve done to you, Erygan. Besides, we both know what the other Morschcoda expect of us. I had to mention that second army in Meclarya. It keeps the others wondering about how far my power truly stretches.”

  “And when are the Elven mercenaries you hired, which do not really exist, going to attack Dorok-Baan?”

  “I expect news of the attack that will not happen to arrive tomorrow.”

  “And, naturally, you will offer to send reinforcements. What will they be this time? The Brotherhood, or just a force strong enough to occupy the city?”

  “Actually, I was planning on sending about two hundred Aren Coda.”

  Erygan started laughing. “Which will remain in the city to ensure future protection from paid, non-existent, Elvish war bands.”

  Taren started laughing too. “Of course. I couldn’t leave Kallin unprotected. You know how dangerous Elves can be. Especially when you can’t see them.” The two men roared with laughter.

  Their discussion was interrupted by Makret’s entrance. “My lord, El Darnen has arrived in the city. He demands an audience with you, today. He is in the Drogodan rooms.”

  “I wondered how long it would take him to get here. He must have Portallers as part of the Greshida. I will see you in the Council Chamber tomorrow, Erygan” said Taren, standing.

  * * * * *

  A tall bearded man, heavily armoured, stood to greet Taren as he entered the Drogodan rooms still smoking his pipe. He wore armour resembling that of the Drogodan army, but he had a cloak fastened on the left shoulder with a silver broach in the shape of a coiled snake, and his belt was fastened with a buckle bearing a serpent’s head carved in gold, with a white field on one side and a black field on the other. His helmet was on the floor beside his seat.

  “Guards, leave us.” Makret started to protest, but Taren cast him a sharp glance and Makret left with the other guards. Turning to the man, he spoke again. “You are not El Darnen.”

  “No, Morschcoda Garrenin, I’m not.”

  “Since he obviously sent you, I assume you have authority within the Fang.”

  “I do.”

  “Good. Now, the Fang has taken an iron mine in southern Eschcota. You will return it to Eschcotan control.”

  “What do we get out of it?”

  “The iron you have taken from the mine already will not be missed. Take it to your hold in the Garuthen mountains.”

  “I was commanded to return with a better bargain than iron we already possess.”

  “I know. That is why I forced Erygan and Norrin to extend a trade route through the mountains to Galzeen. Your leaders should find that satisfactory.”

  “You will do nothing to stop raids on the trade route?”

  “The Fang is the reason I had the route extended. You can’t raid every caravan t
hat goes through the mountains; people will think that I had it extended just for the Fang to attack tradesmen from the north. And if you raid it too often, Norrin or Dalasin will now that you have a hold in the mountains, and they will search them for you. But even if I would want to stop raiding on the Garuthen route, it is not in my land.”

  “I will agree on behalf of my master.”

  “It is wise of you to agree, for you will get nothing better.”

  * * * * *

  The next morning in council, everyone was alert. It would not do to make a fatal mistake now. There would be no tomorrow coming with a chance to rectify any poorly conceived plans. Taren waited through Erygan’s discussion with Dalasin about why Eliish Del Anaria was a poor choice of closing topics. Finally, what Taren was waiting for occurred. A Storinean soldier came in quietly and whispered in Kallin’s ear.

  “I may be forced to withdraw from this council early,” he said, returning his attention to his peers. “It seems that Elves have launched an attack against Dorok-Baan. The city is calling for reinforcements.” Daliana looked puzzled. She and many of her people were supposedly Half-Elvin, but barely a handful of people outside of Dothoro actually believed that Elves still existed.

  “There is no need for you to go yourself, Morschcoda Kallin.”

  “Why is there no need for it, Morschcoda Taren?”

  “I have a strong force of arms permanently stationed on the southern plains of Moredo. Among them are several hundred Aren and Aren Coda. I could easily have three or four hundred in Dorok-Baan in four or five days.”

  “My city needs reinforcements now, Morschcoda Taren.”

  “It will take you at least a month to travel from here to there, even if you could leave at this moment.”

  “It will take your man almost that long to reach the southern plains, and then the five days on a fast horse to get to Dorok-Baan.”

  “One man alone will travel much faster than a whole army together. And among my retinue, I have a Torridestan Morschledu who is capable of making a portal large enough for himself to pass through. If I send him now, he can be on the southern plains in under an hour.”

  Daliana leaned close to Xari with her mind and made the impression of whispering as she shared thoughts. “I thought Kallin was practically controlled by Taren already? It seems as though he is attempting to say no.”

  “It is strange, I grant you,” replied Xari.

  “Alright Morschcoda Taren, send whatever force you see fit to Dorok-Baan. I will likely need them again.”

  “I doubt that,” said Taren, looking up from a letter he had just received into the confused faces of every other Morschcoda. “And it seems that I will need all of my men before long. I doubt the Elves will trouble you anymore anyway, supposing they really exist, once they hear the news I have just received. I am surprised, though, that Morschcoda Marrdin is not pouring over a similar letter to the one I have just been given.”

  “Would you care to explain your riddles, Morschcoda Taren?”

  “I shall certainly do so, Morschcoda Erygan. My sister, Anyana Garrenin has recently married a Ristan prince, the Lord General of the Crystal Sword, to be specific. Roughly two weeks ago, as I judge from this letter, a Ristan patrol along the borders of the Icto-Rista came across a recently abandoned camp. It was neither Ristan nor Torridestan, so they examined further. They returned to Agrista as quickly as they could to report that a force of Deshika warriors, no less than one thousand, but no more than three thousand, had entered into Anaria.” Everyone paled visibly at the thought of Deshika once more inside of Anaria’s bounds. “There is more, and it gets worse. Apparently my sister’s husband took ten thousand of the Crystal Sword north to deal with them. Not even four thousand came back.”

  The Council Chamber was silent. You could hear the rock walls groaning under the weight of the thousands of tons of rock that they supported. And then everyone began to speak at once. The Crystal Sword was not the strongest of the Ten Nation’s elite armies, but it was not the weakest either. And the fact that such a small force, compared to the armies of the southern empires, could do so much damage to half of the Crystal Sword was possibly more disturbing than the fact that the Deshika were once more in Anaria.

  “There is no more time for discussion. We must once more fill Eliish Del Anaria.”

  “You said it yourself, Dalasin, we don’t have the time. Marrdin must leave at once, and so must the rest of us. However, if we all still live in one month, I agree that we must meet back here and decide who is to lead us. We can’t afford to have ten leaders who each want something different.”

  The chamber was deserted in seconds.

  And All the North Aflame

  Marrdin stepped through the portal Erygan had opened to Agrista. The first thing he noticed was the quiet. Turning to those who had left Dishmo Kornara with him, he gave orders. “You six, explore the city. Look for anything that might tell us why the city is so quiet. The four of you, get to as high of points as you can and do the same. You two, go to the barracks and see if either the Crystal Sword or the regular army is in the city. If they are, wake them up, and tell them to start doing their job. Everyone, report to me within the next hour. I will be in the palace.” His soldiers and advisors ran off to do the various duties he had assigned them, while he and his three guards walked to the palace. It was there that they encountered their first great shock. The courtyard before the palace had been a battlefield, and recently, judging by the blood stains that had yet to dry on the dead. It looked as though as many as two thousand of the Crystal Sword has fallen, but there were at least fifteen hundred Deshika lying among the Ristan dead. Two hundred of the Sword still stood in the courtyard. About fifty of those were burning the bodies of the dead Deshika. One looked up, and saw Marrdin. He shouted “Hail, Morschcoda” as loud as he could, so that his fellow soldiers, and as much of the city as he was loud enough to reach, heard him as well.

  “What in all of Hesta happened here, Captain?” Marrdin shouted as he stormed forward through the stricken field.

  “Deshik scum,” replied the Captain, spitting on a body that two of his men were dragging to the fire. “Climbed the walls. No ladders. They just pulled themselves up. Before we could even do anything, they were almost to the palace.” He stopped to spit again, and jerked his head backwards, towards the mass of white stone and ice that towered above the surrounding city. “We lost about two thousand of the Sword pushing them out of here. Six thousand regulars died between here and the walls pushing them out of the city. I think they could have lost as many as three thousand. Not more.”

  “So, was this the same army that your commander attacked in the ice fields about a week ago?”

  “I would ask how you knew of that, my lord, but I know that the council has faster ways of gathering information than any army. I assume it’s the same one. They crossed the Icto-Rista, and Agrista is the most northern city. This is their only likely target. I doubt that they’ll be back though, not without reinforcements.”

  “Without reinforcements, Captain, we will not long hold this city,” said one of Marrdin’s advisors, running up to them. “Morschcoda, an army is approaching from the north. It must be fifty thousand strong, at the least.”

  Marrdin paled, but lost no time. His stubbornness and quick thinking had kept him on the council for over one hundred years. He would not lose it now. “Prepare what soldiers we still have. They will not take this city while we live.”

  * * * * *

  When Erygan first stepped through the portal he had opened to his home, Toredo, he wondered if he had not gone somewhere else. Smoke hung so thick in the air that even what little light could pierce the heavy northern clouds was blotted out. Turning to those with him, he shouted “Find somebody who knows what’s going on, or else find out yourself.” Thirteen soldiers ran off in different directions. Erygan watched them go, and then started off towards the castle, the one building he could still see amid the smoke and natural dark
ness. As he made his way into the heart of the city, the smoke cleared. He was not happy about the increased visibility. Toredo had been almost destroyed. Taken by surprise, most likely, and then put to the torch. He could still hear the crackling of the fires, but now he could also hear the shouts of men struggling to contain them. He hated himself for having to do this, but, muttering under his breath, he spoke an incantation to dispel the heavy clouds that clung desperately to the northern sky, allowing the light of the weak northern sun to shine down upon the city for the first time in he did not know how long. He was on a hill in the middle of the city, and for the first time he could see the true extent of the city and of the damage that had been done to it. The northern half of the city had been all but destroyed. There were a few walls of demolished houses still standing. Some larger buildings looked mostly intact. The damage grew considerably less as one moved in from the walls, which, he now noticed, were no longer whole. Large sections of the seventy-feet-high wall had fallen. One of the breaches was almost fifty meters wide. He finally saw the cause he had begun to suspect, as he looked beyond the ruined walls for the first time: a Deshika war camp, not even half of one league from the city. At that distance, not quite three miles, he could even see individual warriors walking through the camp. As he continued to watch it, one of his Generals came over to him. “Morschcoda, they attacked without warning during the middle of the day. We were caught at unawares. They managed to take large sections of the wall, just by climbing, no ladders. Then they destroyed the wall that they captured. They did not penetrate far in to the city, though. We managed to repel them, with a cost.”

  Erygan did not turn his gaze away from the broken circle. “We will never be able to repair the walls before their next attack. We would not even have the beginnings of a barricade before they noticed and made another move on the city.”

  The two, General and Morschcoda, stared in silence at the destruction. Finally, Erygan asked why the city was so quiet. “In your absence, I took the liberty of evacuating as many civilians from the city as I could. The Portallers took them to Storinea. They are closer to our kind of people than anyone else in the south.”