by Jordan Baker
"All the more reason to stop his madness, don't you think?"
"Agreed, your highness."
"Good, then let's start with these soldiers here," Ariana said. "They are lucky I have asked the elven guard to do their best not to kill them, but if you could please order them to stop fighting, I would be most grateful."
*****
Borrican looked out over the high city wall near the front gate and it seemed as though the entire horizon was covered in enemy soldiers. It had been several days since they had appeared, sitting a hundred paces beyond the range of the archers and the catapults that lined the tops of the walls. A party rode forward toward the gate, heavily shielded against arrows and bearing a white flag. Behind the safety of the parapet next to him, Borrican's brother Elric and their uncle, Duke Boric spoke with several of the guard commanders about preparations for the attack, whenever it might come.
"Brother, uncle," Borrican called out. "Riders approach the walls under the white flag."
Boric walked over to his nephew and looked out through the gap in the wall.
"It looks like they wish to talk," he said. "I wonder what they have to say."
"What do you think, uncle?" Elric asked.
"I think we should indulge them their little white scrap of cloth, and by we, I mean me and possibly your brother, if he'd like to learn a thing or two," Boric replied.
"Why should Borrican go and not me?" Elric asked. "I am the king."
"That is exactly the reason you will stay here," Boric told him.
He was amazed at how much younger Elric seemed than his younger brother, or perhaps it was simply the fact that Elric spent most of his days studying the laws of the land while Borrican spent most of his time training with the sword. Whatever the case, it would not be proper for a king to step out on the field in such a way. There were enough stories of white flags being used to set traps, that some amount of caution might be advisable.
"Your duty is to the people within these walls until such time as you must take to the field," Boric told him. "Until the king joins the battle, it is the duty of second sons like myself and your brother, to take such risks in your stead."
"Fair enough, uncle," Elric said. "I merely wish to look our enemy in the eye, to see those who have invaded our land."
Perhaps Elric was not so weak as he thought, Boric wondered. Whatever might be the truth of it, this war would make men out of both boys and, though it was unavoidable, it was an experience he did not wish on either of them. He turned to his other nephew.
"Borrican, do you fancy a ride outside the walls?" Boric peered out over the wall and his eyes shifted to a more reptilian look for a moment. "If I'm not mistaken, that's Prince Draxis and your old Senior Captain from the Academy. I can't see the third man clearly, but he looks familiar."
Borrican looked over the wall and the three men and their contingent of soldiers looked like little more than ants on the ground from the distance and the height.
"How can you see that far, uncle?" Elric asked as he looked out over the wall as well.
"I exercise my eyes more than most," Boric said with a wink at Borrican. He turned to his new retainer, the Ranger in black named Margo. "Gather an equal contingent of to their number and meet us at the gate."
"Right away, Duke Boric."
Margo headed off to round up some horses and soldiers, and Boric and his two nephews walked down the long stairs from the wall.
"I will begin my inspection of the guard," Elric said. "Report to me what you learn from this party outside the walls."
"Yes, your highness," Boric said, bowing his head so the many soldiers and common folk who could now see them would know that young Elric was now their king. There had already been some unrest among the people when the news had spread that Elric had assumed the throne, so it was important reassure them that he was capable and in command.
Elric nodded and, with a group of guards, headed up into the city to make his rounds. Boric and Borrican made their way to the gate, where they found Margo already saddled up with two dozen guards on horseback. Borrican stepped up into the saddle of his black charger and his uncle walked over to the wall by the gate and picked up his giant axe in one hand, then swung himself into the saddle of his own horse, one of a few he kept in the stables that were strong enough to carry both him and his oversized weapon. A few moments later, the portcullis was raised, the gate swung open and the bridge was lowered over the mote.
As they rode over the drawbridge, Boric turned in the saddle.
"Borrican," he said. "Let me do the talking for now. Nathas knows your face but the rest of them won't recognize you, so let's not give things away unnecessarily."
"Understood, uncle," Borrican said as he glanced down over the edge of the drawbridge at the oily black pitch that floated greasily on the water in the mote and blackened the grass at its edges. Its smell was powerful in his nostrils and something about it made his heart beat a little harder. His horse sensed the tension in him and sidestepped a little but Borrican reined the beast back into line. Over these last days, as the battle drew nearer and the smoke of forges and the light scent of blood were carried on the wind, Borrican had found himself increasingly tense and it was as though there was a kind of rushing sound in his ears. He felt it more intensely as they rode out onto the field toward the enemy.
"Duke Boric," said a young man, wearing a dark cowl over his head. His voice was strange sounding and Borrican guessed that he must be the half-Darga son of Calexis.
"Draxis," Boric replied, recognizing him at once. "How lovely to see you again." Boric turned to the other two men, one of whom Borrican knew very well and another who he did not recognize, even now that he could see him properly under the man's grey cowl. "Nathas. Lord Kaleb, I thought that might be you."
Nathas nodded at Borrican, but beyond the flicker of recognition in his eyes, he did not acknowledge him any more than the rest of the party. Borrican wondered if Nathas had gone cold hearted or if his uncle was right, that Nathas would show discretion by not drawing attention to him.
"Duke Boric," Kaleb said with an unenthusiastic sigh. "King Cerric has ordered us to command you to tell the king to surrender unconditionally."
"Instead of sending such a ridiculous message, why doesn't he come down here himself?" Boric asked.
"For the same reason your king does not come down for a white flag," Draxis said.
"You mean he's busy eating breakfast?" Boric joked. "Alas, I suppose that lying, usurping, pond scum, fools like Cerric need to eat too."
"Save your insults, creature," Draxis hissed. "I owe Cerric no love and neither do these two fools. We are here to give you the god-king's message, nothing more."
"He's calling himsel a god now?" Boric laughed.
"There may be some truth to it," Kaleb said. "There are rumors that something happened at the ceremony with the mage priests. Cerric claims he is the god, Kroma, and the mages seem to believe him."
"Is this true?" Boric asked Nathas.
"Is Cerric a god? I don't know, but the mages have lost their usual arrogance and they scurrying around him like they're afraid."
"Interesting," Boric commented. "I cannot imagine anyone being afraid of Cerric, especially not mages or anyone with half an idea of how to use the pointy end of a blade."
"It matters not," Draxis said, turning his horse around. "The message is delivered. The next we meet, I will have your head, Boric Akandar."
Draxis rode off and both Nathas and Kaleb tarried for a moment.
"I am truly sorry to meet you again like this, Boric," Nathas said.
"You are doing your duty to your king," Boric said. "I am not looking forward to this battle. I'd like you to know, personally, that Kandara had nothing to do with the murder of the princess."
Nathas nodded and Borrican caught a nod between his former instructor and his uncle. He noticed the man named Kaleb nodded to Boric as well before he turned his mount and rode back to the Maramyrian line
s.
"They know something," Boric said as he rode alongside Borrican back toward the city walls. "Either that, or they don't believe the story."
"How could they believe that we would do such a thing?" Borrican asked. His uncle glanced back at the Maramyrian and Xallan armies.
"They've got thousands convinced, and thousands more here to win some glory and a bit of gold," Boric said. "The reason might be false, but it was reason enough to get this wagon rolling and there's not much chance of stopping it now."
*****
Ariana and the Elven guard made their way toward the capital city of Kandara that rose up in the distance ahead and they saw the vast army arrayed on the fields before it. They stopped short of the open fields that stretched out across the lands before the crown city and concealed themselves in a stand of trees while Captain Pells rode ahead with a group of a hundred soldiers, making for the forward encampment. As soon as they arrived, the soldiers quickly tended to their horses then began filtering their way through the rest of the ranks, striking up quiet conversations with the other soldiers of Maramyr. Pells went looking for the commanders and when he made it to the command tent, one of the guards informed him that Nathas, Kaleb, and the half-Darga, Draxis, were in conference.
"It is likely the Kandarans have readied boiling oil atop the walls," Nathas said, pointing at a large drawing of the city walls, with various markings on it, "but if the mages can bring down even a section of the wall, then it will create a break. I agree, these three areas look the most promising."
"The mage fire should open holes in the stone," Draxis said. "I have seen their magic. It is very destructive."
"I heard a rumor that Berant has been working some magic of his own," Kaleb added. "Apparently he's got his hands on some of the cannon that the pirates and the Aghlar use. With the mages fire, the catapults and the cannon, assuming the Kandarans don't have any tricks up their sleeves, the walls could come down very quickly. If I were the sort to lay a wager, I'd say they might come down within a few days."
"That's a lot sooner than you thought before," Nathas said.
"I said, assuming the Kandarans don't have any tricks up their sleeves," Kaleb repeated with a wry smile. He looked at both Nathas and Draxis. "Would either of you like to be the one to report all of this to Cerric or shall I?"
"Excuse me, Captain General Nathas, sir," said a soldier, who opened the flap at the entrance of the tent. "There is a Captain Pells requesting to speak with you."
Pells was supposed to be leagues away, guarding the western passes. His first thought was to instruct the soldier to order Pells back to his designated area, but he saw something in the eyes of the soldier that gave him pause.
"Did he say what it was about?" Nathas asked.
"He claims it is a personal matter, something to do with a family member, sir."
"This is the problem with sieges," Nathas said with a sigh. "Before long, the soldiers start asking how long before the battle starts, then when will it finish, and when can they go home."
"They do not wish for the glory of conquest?" Draxis asked. Nathas stared at the half-Darga for a moment, realizing that he was genuinely curious.
"Glory and conquest are fleeting, Draxis. After the war is over, that's when the living is done."
"A warrior is not truly alive except in battle," Draxis said.
"Perhaps, but most warriors would not even be alive if there were no mothers and fathers to birth them and provide some amount of peace to raise them."
"I will take this information to Cerric," Draxis said, rolling up the drawings of the city walls and stuffing them in a thicker paper cylinder. "I will think on your words, Nathas."
"Thank you, Draxis," Nathas said as the half-Darga exited the tent.
"What a strange fellow," Kaleb commented after he had left.
"At times, he seems very young, like a boy," Nathas said. "From what I gather, Draxis was raised by the priesthood, and they're a far cry from the mages of old, so who knows what kinds of ideas they put in his head. In their obsession with their book and their god, I doubt they've got much common sense about the world. Let us go and find out what Pells wants. I expect Cerric may order the attack soon, so I doubt there is much we can do for the Captain's family issue."
*****
Draxis rode through the thousands of soldiers and stopped briefly to inspect his Darga legions on his way to the main encampment where he knew he would find Cerric and his mother. They were likely at their pavilion, drinking wine or enjoying time in bed, which seemed to be their favorite pastime. It irritated him that the Maramyrian king seemed to have his mother in thrall and that neither of them appeared to give much thought to the campaign. The other two generals, Mirdel and Berant were not much better, though Berant spent most of his time overseeing the activities of the soldiers, which Draxis respected, while Mirdel could usually be found in his own pavilion, most often into his second bottle of wine before the sun had even made its way to the middle of the sky. Draxis was surprised to find Cerric, Calexis and the two Lords General in the command pavilion.
"Draxis," Calexis said when he entered the large tent. "Your timing could not be better. We have a something of a problem."
"How may I be of service," Draxis said, inclining his head to his mother and Cerric.
"It seems an old enemy has taken to the field, Draxis. The Elven Guard rides for Kandara."
"Elves? The mages told me about these creatures," Draxis said. "They are tree people, who live in the forests to the west of the great river."
"The elven are loathesome creatures, but they are fierce warriors, Draxis. This will be a true test for your Darga warriors. You are to engage the elves."
"I had hoped to fight Duke Boric," Draxis said. "Can the regular soldiers not deal with these creatures?"
In a movement so fast that Draxis could barely see it, Cerric rushed toward him and smashed him in the side of the head with his open hand. The impact of the king's hand was like stone from a catapult and it sent the half-Darga skidding sideways across the floor of the command tent where he landed hard on the ground.
"Do not question my orders," Cerric growled and the others stood silently in shock.
Mirdel and Berant shuffled uncomfortably where they stood and Calexis fought the urge to rush to her son's side, to see if he was injured, but she was relieved when Draxis slowly pushed himself from the floor. None of them had ever seen Cerric move in such a way, and though Calexis knew the king who had become a god was strong, she had not imagined how powerful he truly was. Draxis felt like the bones in his face had nearly been shattered and he realized that Cerric had only hit him with an open hand. If the king was truly that powerful, his seeming nonchalance toward the war became more understandable. Draxis regained his feet and brushed himself off. He inclined his head to the king.
"As you command, your highness," Draxis said. "With your permission, I will leave at once."
"Granted," Cerric said. Draxis pulled the thick paper cylinder from his belt and held it out to the god-king.
"These are the reports on the walls of Kandara, sent by Nathas and Lord Kaleb for Lords Mirdel and Berant."
"Very good," Cerric said, taking it from Draxis then he walked away from him, tossing the materials to Mirdel.
Draxis nodded to his mother then exited the tent, thinking of only one thing; how he too could gain such power as Cerric possessed. Nothing would please him more to strike down the god-king, but for now, he would do as he was commanded and kill these Elves who dared the battlefield. He was only a few paces away from the command pavilion when a horn sounded and he saw several of his Darga racing through the encampment toward him, with his Darga subordinate, Meznak in the lead. The few Xallan and Maramyrian soldier who tried to stop them were easily cast aside by the much larger, stronger Darga warriors.
"What is the meaning of this, Meznak?" Draxis hissed and he glanced over his shoulder to see Cerric and the Generals, along with his mother, appear from the
command tent.
"Lord Draxis," Meznak said, bending on his knee. "The soldiers in the forward camp move to the city without us. Captain General Nathas came to us after you and said for the Darga to await your orders. Why did you not give us the orders? Will the Darga not fight in this battle?"
"What is happening?" Cerric asked as he walked up.
"The forward army is moving toward the city," Draxis said. "My Darga thought it prudent to alert me to this. Have orders been given that I am unaware of?"
"No, Nathas was told to await my orders," Cerric said. "Draxis, find out what he is doing and send one of your Darga back with a report."
"Yes, your highness," Draxis said. "Come." He gathered the Darga and, together, they made their way through the camp, stopping for a moment for Draxis to gather his horse, then they made for the forward encampment, the Darga on foot, running almost as quickly as their leader's horse.
Cerric watched the half-Darga making their way across the open fields toward the forward encampment and he could see the lines of soldiers moving toward the city ahead. He wondered what Nathas was doing, then he looked to the west and saw movement. Cerric closed his eyes for a moment, and he reached out with his power, searching. He saw a group of his soldiers, on horseback riding west. Where were they going? He drew deeper from his power, pushing the limits of his sight. He knew they were there, somewhere, and no matter how hard they tried, they were no longer in the protection of their forest and they could not hide from him. He found them among the trees, waiting for the riders, his soldiers. It did not make sense until he felt something else, something he had not expected. Cerric's eyes snapped open.
"It seems the elves have moved faster than I thought," he said. "Where are the mages?"
"They are working with the builders, overseeing the completion of the siege engines, your highness," Mirdel said.
"Are the engines complete?"
"They have been built, yes."
"Then have them brought forward, and have the mages to disperse throughout the army, one mage for every hundred soldiers. Assign them to units.
