Complete Kingdoms and the Elves of the Reaches

by William Robert Stanek

  Danyel’ regarded the keeper’s troubled eyes. “You don’t look like a man bearing good news.”

  “With the good there is always the bad. Will I find the chancellor in his quarters?”

  “No, he has taken up residence elsewhere. I will take you to him if I must.”

  “You must, this is important, a dream message from Keeper Martin.”

  Adrina drove her mount still faster. She tried to shake images of the boy from her mind. They had found Vilmos lying on ground saturated with blood some hours after Erravane had disappeared into the forest shadows. Adrina was certain that death had found him by now and tried to convince herself that perhaps Vilmos had found peace.

  She cast the thoughts away and whipped the reins of her mount. She glanced to Emel and Valam who rode in tight formation on either side of her. She couldn’t help noting the defiant pride in Emel’s eyes as he stroked his Ebony. How Xith had safeguarded and kept their horses after Alderan was beyond her.

  To Adrina it was clear that Emel was both excited and troubled. The reunion between master and mount had been a sweet one and left Adrina a bit envious. Emel had not hid his joy at the sight of his beloved steed.

  It was now well into the afternoon. The three had left the southern forests in early morning. Slipping through William’s lines had been easier than Adrina imagined it would be. One thing was clear, the soldiers weren’t expecting anyone to pass through their ranks. Their camps had no guards posted forward or rear.

  An enemy army, worse, an enemy army without cares, so close to Kingdom soil, had outraged them all. Valam, seemingly the most. More than once Adrina had watched him fight back the urge to charge into one of the sleepy camps and slaughter the unwary louts—”louts” being Valam’s word for them.

  As they neared the top of a small rise, Valam signaled a halt. Adrina reined in her mount and dismounted. “Dusk is still a few hours away,” she said. “Why do we stop?”

  Valam, clearly deep in thought and already preparing to rub down his mount’s tired legs, didn’t seem to hear Adrina’s question.

  Emel said, “We can’t afford a lame mount now, Adrina, despite our urge to race on. I’ll rub down Ebony and if you’ll walk him after, I’ll do your mount.”

  “I’ll rub down my own horse. Show me what I must do.”

  “You should rest. His Highness may wish to press on through the night and we will surely end up walking at some point.”

  “Do you speak for my brother now?”

  Emel cast her a glum stare then turned back to Ebony. He removed Ebony’s saddle and walked him for a time, then began using a comb from his saddlebags. Imitating his actions, Adrina did her best to rub down her steed. Never had she imagined that rubbing down an animal could be so tiring.

  Afterward she found she had to rinse the stink of animal sweat from her hands. Exhausted, Adrina sat cross-legged and unladylike upon the ground. Days of captivity and hardship had nearly numbed her awareness to proper mannerisms, and it was only absently that she felt the moisture of the tall grasses.

  As a voice from the past flashed through her mind, Adrina looked to Valam who was stretched out on the ground and staring up at the darkening sky. She knew that though he looked relaxed, he was brooding. “I miss you, Lady Isador,” Adrina whispered to the fleeting voice in her mind, “perhaps you were right, wintering with Rudden Klaiveson wouldn’t have been so bad a thing.”

  Adrina found Emel’s eyes upon her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “I know.”

  “Is there really hope in this race? I mean, Quashan’ is east, we ride north and we haven’t even crossed the river—”

  “His Highness knows what he is doing. There is a ford nearby, we will cross it and then follow the far branch of the river back to the south and east.”

  “What did he and Xith talk about? They spoke at length. Valam said nothing and we’ve been riding all day. Neither of you have said anything, what am I supposed to think?”

  Suddenly Adrina noticed Valam was on his feet. Valam said, “You yourself saw William’s army in the forest. You know that the entirety of the second most powerful army in all the lands marches north and that Quashan’ is under siege. What is there to say?”

  Valam turned to Emel and then back to Adrina. “You really want to know what the shaman told me?”

  Adrina cast imploring eyes in Valam’s direction.

  “We talked about this,” said Valam withdrawing his father’s sword from its sheath. “Truth Bringer” the sword was called. It was wider across than a man’s hand and taller than most men as well. The blade was the finest Reassae steel and sharp enough to part a man’s head from his shoulders with but a single blow. “Prince William’s men took it from me, and now I have it again. Satisfied?”

  Adrina wasn’t. She wanted knew Xith and Valam had talked about more than the sword. The discussion was heated and rather one sided with Valam doing most of the listening.

  “This is no place for you, Adrina. Why father ever let you leave Imtal when he was aware of the troubles here, I’ll never understand. And why Keeper Martin and Father Jacob let you continue the journey when they knew there was danger is a matter I intend to take up—”

  Emel put his hand on Valam’s shoulder. Valam regarded it but still continued, “These are things that must be said, things I could not find heart to say before. But now that we are clear of danger for a time, I must speak my mind.”

  “No one is to blame but me, Valam. You know I get what I want—it has always been that way. If you’re going to point the finger at anyone, point it at me.”

  “There will be time for blame and arguments later,” Emel said, “with luck we will be upon the road to Quashan’ in the morning.”

  A deep worry was written on Valam’s face as he turned away from Adrina and said to Emel, “It is a hope, yes.”

  “You want me to what?” screamed the galley’s captain above the sound of pace keeper’s drums.

  “I want you to continue up river,” said Keeper Martin.

  “Captain Adylton, you claim to be a fisher’s son, bring some sense to your companion.”

  Captain Adylton had been watching the rise and fall of the sweeps as they stroked the water and it took him a moment to respond. “If any of your ships are damaged, we’ll pay you double its worth in gold from the King’s treasury.”

  “Night is nigh at hand.”

  “Triple,” said Adylton.

  The ship captain still seemed hesitant.

  Captain Adylton said, “Plus a year’s wages for lost revenues during rebuilding.”

  “Lanterns!” shouted the galley captain, “Bow, starboard, port. Close watch! Drummer, mid beat! Relay the orders to the rest of the fleet!”

  Keeper Martin nodded approval. He and Captain Adylton moved away from the helm so their voices wouldn’t be within earshot of the galley’s captain. With the noise of the drums, the grunts of the rowers and the splash of the sweeps, they didn’t have to go far.

  Keeper Martin said, “You learn the ways of free traders quickly.”

  “I didn’t say I’d never bargained with free traders before, my friend, what I said was ‘I disliked free traders.’ Yet I suppose there are worse ills in the world than a hunger for gold.”

  “Well said, but how much is it going to cost to convince him to continue when one of his precious ships really hits bottom?”

  Captain Adylton frowned. “Do you believe the river still so shallow, even with the recent rains?”

  “If the Trollbridge was safely traversable at any time during the year, an enterprising captain, perhaps even our ship’s captain, would’ve been sailing it long ago, and there would be ports up and down—”

  “—I get the point,” Captain Adylton said, shifting his stance as the boat swayed. “We will pray then that none of his ships run aground.” Captain Adylton tried to change the topic of the conversation. “Did this Keeper Q’yer of yours receive your message yet?”

  �
��The message entered Keeper Q’yer’s dreams as I sent it, that is the way of the message. What I don’t know is if he understood it, though we will surely find out soon enough.”

  Father Jacob eyed the grizzled commander who stood beside him. Reflecting the light of the new day, his brown eyes shone with an uncanny luster. There was naked rage on his face; he was gritting his teeth and his hand on Jacob’s shoulder was trying to crush bone. Then, his tone grim, Captain Mikhal said, “A costly attack at dawn it will be, but we must strike now. I cannot bare the sight of this.”

  Jacob peered out from his hiding place amidst the trees. From his vantage point, he saw most of Quashan’ and the amassed army. The emblems on the enemy banners at this distance were hardly identifiable, though the colors were. They were not green and gold, but blue and black. The colors of King Jarom and the Kingdom of Vostok. Jacob bowed his head wearily, but didn’t respond.

  The two stood there for a time, staring down at the army poised to strike the city as they obviously had in previous days. Quashan’s walls were battered. The east wall, which they had the best view of, had large sections missing from its upper bulwarks. Thin trails of black smoke were streaming from the southern part of the city and a section of the nearby wall was charred.

  Captain Mikhal turned and started to walk away. Father Jacob stopped him. “I too am nearly at the end of my patience. For days I have done nothing but wait, and while I grow tired of waiting, I made a promise to an old friend that I would wait when it seemed we must attack and he in turn made a promise to me.”

  “There are exceptions to any promise, and this is surely one, unless this friend of yours is His Royal Majesty or My Lord Prince or—”

  “Who he is not important, that I trust him and would give my life for his is important. No, we must wait.”

  Captain Mikhal hissed and cursed in a low voice. He pointed, then spoke, “Look, ridesman, lancers. Hundreds.”

  “White and red,” Jacob said quietly.

  Captain Mikhal regarded Jacob. “It cannot be, it doesn’t make sense.”

  Jacob sighed and bowed his head wearily. “Prince William’s advance guard, his army comes.”

  “But, the Alliance?”

  “The Alliance died with King Charles.”

  Captain Mikhal’s nostrils flared. “That is as impossible as—”

  “—an order sealed with King Andrew’s seal rousing the whole of Quashan’ garrison to Imtal being false?”

  Before Captain Mikhal could respond, Father Jacob explained the last thing he had been holding back from the garrison commander. He spoke quickly and directly, telling Captain Mikhal a thing that he himself had not wanted to believe until he saw it with his own eyes. “The Kingdom of Vostok and the Kingdom of Sever are united in their cause against Great Kingdom.”

  “If the Alliance is broken, what of Zapad and Yug? King Peter and King Alexas are marionettes, and King Jarom is the puppeteer.”

  “We must give thanks to Mother-Earth and her divine providence.”

  “Even the Stygian Palisades have passes, and there are certainly enough ships in the Far…” Seeming to realize what he was saying, Captain Mikhal’s voice trailed off.

  Suddenly, the call of dozens of trumpets broke the air.

  Captain Mikhal’s face was livid as he said, “They’re preparing an assault. The time to strike is now while they muster. Nothing you say will make me change my mind. Nothing.”

  “Who will you serve by charging to your deaths? You must trust in—”

  “—I’ve little faith, Father Jacob, I must confess this, for if you are going to tell me that I must trust in Great-Father, you’ll find me lacking.”

  Father Jacob put his hand on Captain Mikhal’s shoulder. “I have faith for the both of us. I was about to say that you must trust in me.”

  Jacob paused and took a deep breath. He was about to speak when more trumpet calls broke the silence.

  “The attack begins,” said Captain Mikhal, his hand returned to Jacob’s shoulder was again trying to crush bone. “My hand yearns for the hilt of my blade; can you know what it does to me to see this?”

  Jacob winced. “Yes, I do know.”

  “We strike,” Captain Mikhal said, “we strike.”

  In the middle of a circle of trees they sat. Seth beside Galan. Vilmos opposite Xith and the mysterious lady.

  Vilmos listened carefully to the tall light-haired woman who he was sure had saved his life when no other could have. Mid-sentence she had turned to him and Vilmos knew she was now speaking to him. He wondered if she had read his thoughts.

  “—like a tree with many limbs that branch out forever. With each new branch comes a choice and for right or wrong you follow one or the other.”

  The lady paused, then stood. “Sometimes, two great boughs touch and, for a time, their branches intertwine. Sometimes, the great trees form a circle such as this.”

  She gestured to the circle of trees. “And, for good or evil, they form an ever continuing chain. The evil that plays upon the hearts and minds of the disenchanted has its part in the chain. You cannot cleanse yourself of it forever, though you can hold it in check. You, Vilmos, have found yourself. Do not lose or waste what you have gained.”

  The lady turned to Xith. “Go with my blessing. Remember, you will find help in a most unlikely source. And, to Quashan’ you must hasten—” She looked at the others each in turn. “—Galan, Seth, Vilmos, remember what I have told you. Sometimes it is best to remember our roots, for a tree without roots cannot grow.”

  She stood and Xith bowed his head. Seth and Galan did likewise and then Vilmos. Vilmos had only just looked down—for an instant, no more—but when he glanced up, the lady was gone. He flashed excited eyes to Xith, suddenly realizing something else. The trees were gone?

  Vilmos felt emotions flood over him—first surprise, then alarm—a chill ran up his back. He looked to Galan and Seth. To him, their abilities were both strange and wonderful. He turned then to see what they saw. He was on a hillside; there was a walled city in the distance. However, the sun virgining in the east shrouded all detail in a golden haze. Faintly, he heard what could have been trumpet calls.

  “There is much to be done before this day is finished,” Xith said, waving for Vilmos, Seth and Galan to follow him. “I pray that we are not too late and that Father Jacob still waits.”

  Sergeant Danyel’ burst into Chancellor Van’te’s chamber. “The attack comes, we must hasten to the walls!”

  Chancellor Van’te looked to Keeper Q’yer and when neither spoke, Danyel’ repeated, “We must hasten to the walls.”

  Chancellor Van’te stood then and as he did, he again looked to Keeper Q’yer. Keeper Q’yer raised a hand to his lips. Instead of responding, Chancellor Van’te indicated Danyel’ should lead the way.

  As Danyel’ turned to enter the hall, a runner, panting and out of breath, appeared in the doorway. “Hurry, the enemy…”

  The runner paused to inhale and to wipe sweat from his forehead.

  “We know,” Danyel’ said, wiping sweat and grime from his own brow.

  Danyel’ stumbled as he took a step toward the runner. Van’te grabbed his arm to steady him.

  The runner continued, “No, you don’t understand…”

  Danyel’ said, “Go on.”

  Chancellor Van’te looked to Keeper Q’yer again. He already knew what the runner would say, still, he listened.

  “They come from the south… the east, and the… west in a great swarm.”

  Sergeant Danyel’s face turned ashen. Chancellor Van’te steadied him as he nearly fell, then handed him off to Keeper Q’yer. “He is the one who has not slept since the siege began. Take care of him. I’ll go do what I can.

  “And keeper—” Chancellor Van’te stared directly into Keeper Q’yer’s eyes. “—I pray that no more of what you’ve told me comes true.”

  Chapter Twelve:

  Battle

  Vilmos saw Captain Mikhal glance to
ward the city then heavenward. From the direction of the city came the sounds of a raging battle. It was midmorning, only two hours after they had found Father Jacob, and things looked surely grim for the defenders. Smoke was rising from the eastern part of the city as well as the southern part now.

  “They’ll come. Patience, Captain Mikhal,” Xith said.

  Captain Mikhal fixed eyes filled with rage on Xith. “No more, your promises are empty. For the life of me, I don’t understand why I listened to—”

  “Please,” Father Jacob said, “don’t you see the folly in such a pointless attack? Only united with the soldiers of Imtal do we have a chance.”