Paladin's Fall: Kingdom's Forge Book 2

by Kade Derricks

  Surprisingly, Dain sprang on offense first. He surged against Gashan’s defense, sword striking from every possible angle. Their blades crashed with each parry as the elf offset the stronger human’s blows with quickness and positioning.

  Although he had bet on Dain, Alpere hoped for Gashan. His race certainly needed a victory, however small. They had been beat down for far too long.

  After a time, the Baron’s attacks slowed. His sword grew sluggish and his arms weary. Gashan smiled and then switched to an aggressive stance.

  The guardsman wasn’t as fast as Jin, but he still moved like lightning. The Baron deflected his attacks with short, choppy movements, always stopping Gashan’s blade at the last possible moment. He didn’t try to counter, even when there were clear openings.

  Alpere began to see frustration on Gashan’s face. Intentionally, the guardsman exposed his left side, and instead of attacking, Dain smiled and retreated a step back.

  The obvious taunt only antagonized Gashan. He scowled, and his next attack was sloppy.

  He swung a hard, flat arc that Dain ducked beneath while stopping his own blade an inch from the guardsman’s unprotected chest. Again the human smiled and took a step back.

  Murmurs rose from the crowd. They recognized what had just happened. The Baron could have won the match but had chosen not to.

  Out of the corner of his eye Alpere saw Jin smiling proudly.

  Gashan recovered, visibly shaken at being toyed with. He hacked down, but Dain sidestepped the blow and locked his blade over the elf’s. Holding the sword down, the human slid his own up to the guardsman’s hilt. If he turned the blade up he could easily win; instead he bowed to Gashan and lifted his own blade free. Then he stepped back for the third time.

  The now thoroughly embarrassed golden elf attacked savagely at this, whipping his blade faster and faster.

  The Baron let him attack for several minutes, stopping each blow, again without trying to counter. Finally, he caught the elf’s steel on his own and threw Gashan back several yards with a burst of raw power. Without pause, Dain waded into the guardsman, attacking in even, precise strokes. Each block seemed to weaken the beleaguered elf. The Baron’s momentum grew; he struck faster and harder with every swing.

  Alpere had never heard blades slam together with such force; he expected the swords to shatter. Gashan’s whole body shook with each absorbed blow.

  The guardsman was at last too weak to fight. He fell forward to his knees.

  Dain paused, and as Alpere expected him to tap Gashan and humiliate him further, the human instead offered a gloved hand to help the defeated elf to his feet.

  Gashan stared at it for several moments, and then he reached up and the Baron pulled him to his feet.

  “Well met,” Dain said.

  Huffing, Gashan could only nod in return. Dain removed the wrap, sheathed his sword, and walked toward them.

  “Councilor,” Jin said, pressing Kray’s gold into his hand. “We will be ready to see one of your towers this afternoon.”

  “Of course,” Alpere replied. “Would you do me the honor of having lunch with me, Jin? Perhaps a short tour of the city is in order. Your father is more than welcome to accompany us, of course. As is the ambassador.”

  “I’m afraid I must write some dispatches if you’ll see they are delivered,” Neive said, “but I will join you on the way to the tower.”

  “We would be honored,” Dain said.

  Alpere noted small signs of apprehension on Jin’s face, but a touch on the shoulder from her father seemed to soothe her.

  After their guests departed to wash up, Gashan made his way over. They were alone in the courtyard now, Kray having vanished as well.

  “Is he that good?” Alpere asked.

  “Yes, he is exceptionally good. Well-trained, disciplined, and powerful.” His eyes showed frustration and wounded pride. “I started out easy on him and I think he knew it. After he saw through my deception, he started with the taunts. The last third of the match was my full speed and skill.”

  “Truly?”

  Gashan gave a small shrug. “I cannot beat him. If there’s a finer swordsman out there I’ve never heard of him. I would take him over anyone I’ve ever seen, and she can’t be far behind him.”

  Alpere saw that the confession pained Gashan. He offered a consolation for the man’s wounded pride.

  “Good. We’ve less to fear, then, knowing that a man of such capability protects her and knowing that she can take care of herself, as well. It will make things easier.”

  “Are you going to speak with her today?”

  “I am.”

  “Do you want me along?”

  “Not for this, my friend,” Alpere said, giving Gashan a wan smile. “I think it would be best if I did it alone. We are at a tipping point, and after how she reacted to seeing you last night I want nothing pushing her in the wrong direction, good intentions behind it or no. Too much depends on this.”

  “Do you think the human will go along?” Gashan asked.

  “I don’t know. He seems practical. He could be more open to our offer than his daughter.”

  “I hope you’re right. We can’t afford a mistake now.”

  Alpere met Baron Gladstone and Jin in front of the castle near the splashing fountain. They couldn’t have known it was a replica of one from his homeland. The Fountain of Peace, it had been called there. Here, Elam had named it the King’s Fountain. Like so many other magnificent things, he’d twisted it toward his own ends.

  Jin tossed kernels of yellow corn into the water and laughed as a group of fat gold-and-white fish slurped at them. The princess and her father wore regal but practical clothing in forest colors. They are both so unlike what we are used to, Alpere thought to himself.

  “I hope you don’t mind a coach. I enjoy walking, but at my age riding is more practical,” he said.

  A pair of horses drew a magnificent carriage up before them. All white except for a splash of black at the bottom of every foot, the horses wore livery of royal purple that matched the driver’s coat. The carriage itself was painted an alabaster white with flowing scrollwork panels of gold, silver, and green patina copper on its sides.

  With another look at his guests’ clothing, Alpere wondered if the royal coach was too much. Yet another reminder of how different the princess was from the rest of her family.

  “They are beautiful,” Jin said. She approached one of the horses and it nuzzled at her.

  “Brought here from our homeland. We didn’t have enough for breeding stock and crossed them with some of Arctanon’s best stallions. The original breed was pure white, but I think these are an improvement.” He gestured to their feet.

  “They are perfect,” Jin said, smiling. “Father’s horse is almost an exact opposite. Socks is black with white feet.”

  “They are magnificent,” Baron Gladstone agreed.

  Jin ran her hands over the carriage’s polished scrollwork.

  She may not wear finery, Alpere thought, but she does appreciate good craftsmanship when she sees it. Alpere was glad for it. She needed to know that there was more to the Golden than war and conquest. She needed to know her people.

  “Shall we go then?” he said. A guardsman dropped from beside the carriage’s driver, opened the door, and bowed. He offered a hand to Jin and she climbed in.

  “Like the horses, the coach too has a history,” Alpere said. “It was built in our ancient homeland. I’m afraid you will not find work of this quality among our craftsmen now—not these days. Like so much else, the skill has been lost. This carriage carried your great-grandfather and his family here across hundreds of miles of sand and snow and suffering.”

  Jin turned her attention to him, molten rage in her eyes. Too soon, much too soon,
Alpere chided himself.

  “And was he a murderer, too?” she said, voice cold.

  “Jin, I’m sure the councilor’s remark wasn’t meant to offend,” the Baron said.

  “Indeed not. Your ancestor, Earl Ulric, was a great man. He dreamt of peace between our peoples. Elam, along with his children, failed and betrayed that dream,” Alpere said. The timing wasn’t right, not yet, but he pressed forward anyway.

  “The Council of Nobles was not involved in Ulric’s murder or Elam’s ascension to the throne. We opposed him in his crusade against the wood elves, but the Council is only an advisory body. They cannot overrule the king; we were powerless to stop him.

  “In the old kingdom, the Council had real power. They could have chosen another successor to the throne. That wasn’t an option with Elam, who was the only surviving child of Ulric and in total command of the army.”

  “There is always a choice,” Jin said, voice still tight and unhappy. “These nobles chose to follow him. I am no fool.”

  Alpere sighed. “You are correct, of course. We all chose to follow our king.”

  Such a hard child. Unyielding. More like her grandfather than she would ever care to admit. The task would be more difficult than he’d imagined.

  They rode in silence, the only sounds a gentle clopping of hoofbeats and the low rumbling of the wheels, until the driver pulled the horses to a stop.

  “I wanted you to see this,” Alpere said. He climbed out of the carriage and the others followed. “From here we can walk to my home for lunch and then continue the tour afterward.

  “This,” he held his arms outward, “is the Grand Bazaar. Once, wood elves, the Golden, and even a few rare humans traded with each other here. They built this place together.”

  The bazaar was huge, bigger than the castle’s courtyard. Its floor was an enormous mosaic of tiles, slate, marble, redstone, and granite covering almost two acres. Wind whispered in the purple and gold leafed trees alternating in three evenly spaced columns to shade the square. Four fountains, one near each corner and all connected by a shallow canal, gurgled happily. In each of them a glowing crystal stood on a pedestal, and even in the daylight they bathed the area in a soothing blue glow.

  The buildings at the bazaar’s edges all had wide awnings divided by bleached columns into vendor stalls. The only sign of decay was the sun-faded tapestries that hung above each stall for shade.

  “Beautiful,” Jin murmured. She walked to the nearest fountain and dipped her hand into the cool water. Her young face was lit with wonder. She moved along the empty aisles between the trees, hopping over one of the shallow canals.

  While the princess walked and touched the smooth bark of an enchanted tree, Dain stood at the councilor’s shoulder. Alpere glanced at him and saw that he too was impressed.

  “Your grandfather Teldrain designed this. He and Ulric together,” Alpere said to Jin.

  “I never knew he’d come to Mirr,” Jin replied, frowning.

  “Oh yes, he came regularly. Even stayed in the castle where you are now. His father, King Wyrl, brought him often. Wyrl was a good and wise ruler.”

  “You knew him as well?” Dain asked.

  “Yes, I taught him Common,” Alpere said. “The wood elves had no knowledge of it when we arrived, and it is the language of trade, as you know. In return he taught me a bit of wood elf magic. Few Golden have the talent for it, and to be truthful I have only a little. A handful of others and I have used what little we know to keep these few great trees alive. There are others scattered throughout town, as well.”

  Most are at the royal tombs, he didn’t say. Kray had warned him against speaking of them.

  “Come, my home is this way. We will walk and eat together.”

  Alpere led them across the square and then down a broad avenue. Many of the buildings along the way were in various states of disrepair. All were abandoned. As they walked they met a few golden elves in small groups of twos or threes. A handful of wood and mixed-blood elves walked among them.

  “I thought Elam ordered all mixed-blood children killed,” Dain said.

  “He did. But not everyone obeyed. Many of our people had mixed children and kept them secret. It is safe for them now.”

  Alpere led them inside a small building. More at ease in his home’s simple surroundings, he was relieved to see Jin relaxing a bit as well. She took a seat at the table near the framed window. Dain slid his own chair up beside her. Alpere noted that he kept his sword arm free, and from his position he could watch both the front door and the rest of the home.

  “We were speaking of the mixed,” Alpere continued. “While Elam ruled Mirr, they hid with golden elf families out in the country. Elam’s forces never strayed far from Mirr or out on the border.”

  “Surely there were patrols. The soldiers had to have seen them,” Dain said.

  “There were, and they did, but many of the soldiers had mixed children of their own,” Alpere said. “Ulric encouraged marriage between the two peoples.”

  “None came with the freed slaves,” Dain said. “Thank you for that, by the way. Freeing them.”

  “It was the right thing to do. One thing we could do for our fellow elves. The mixed were afraid you might slay them as Elam would have done. They and their parents, with a few others, chose to remain.

  “I apologize for the meal’s small quantity,” Alpere went on, arranging their food along the table with some mugs of tea. The three of them settled into their meal, chewing and sipping tea in silence for a time.

  “How much do you know about what happened here after the battle?” Alpere ventured once his mouth was no longer full of bread.

  Jin exchanged a look with her father.

  “Very little,” the Baron said. He shifted in his chair a bit. Alpere smiled.

  “You give me too much credit, Paladin. I am neither diplomat nor spymaster. I am not interested in how you spy upon us. Were I in your position I would do likewise. Truly, we are more alike than you believe. Both warriors, both born in a far-off land.”

  “The sword is yours, then? That one above the mantel?”

  Alpere turned to look at his blade. He’d hung the sword in its scabbard after moving in and never once taken it down. It was dusty, and a delicate cobweb ran from it to the mantel’s stone.

  “Long ago, I was a soldier defending my homeland. I fought in the war against the Skree.”

  “Skree?” Jin asked.

  “The long stinger above the sword, do you see? I cut it from a Skree general’s tail. They are an insectoid, sand-dwelling people. They look more like ants or scorpions or beetles than us. That was a long time ago.” Alpere fell silent for a moment, gazing up at the blade.

  “Warrior to warrior then,” the Baron continued, “we know precious little. We know something happened here after the last battle; an internal matter that pulled all the golden elves into their borders and cut them off from the world. We know it lasted for years.”

  Alpere smiled and nodded. “I appreciate your honesty,” he said. “Other than meeting with Gashan, I find most of my day shrouded in intrigue and tedious politics.”

  Alpere focused his attention on Jin now. May as well come to the point, he thought. “Earlier, you asked me if there were any royals left. The Golden believe you are the last of our royal line, Jin. Koren, whom you asked about earlier, hasn’t been seen since she rode for the front years ago during the Battle of Teran. She is long dead, thank the Creator.”

  He paused, taking a drink and steeling his resolve before diving forward.

  “Because of this, we need something from you. Something that outweighs petty diplomacy and border disputes. When Elam and his children died, Mirr plunged into civil war. An internal matter doesn’t even begin to describe it. The fighting started two days after we f
reed the slaves and they returned home. Merchants, generals, councilors, even; all took up arms to stake their claim to the throne. A half-dozen supposed bastard sons of Gallad or Haldrin or even Elam each claimed blood right.”

  “That all seems to be over now,” Dain said.

  “Eight elves of every ten died either in the last great battle with the wood elves or the succession war that followed. Starvation claimed most. Without the wood elves to grow and harvest food and with every available man fighting for one claimant or another, there was no one to tend to the fields. We had gold enough for food, of course, but no one to buy it from.”

  “Again, the fighting all seems over now,” Jin said, raising a dark eyebrow at him. “Peace must have been reached somehow.”

  “Gashan and I worked together and suppressed the claimants. The bastard sons were proven false or killed by their own, and through force of arms and diplomacy we ended the conflict…at least openly. But we need a permanent solution.”

  “Permanent solution,” Dain said. His eyes narrowed.

  Alpere locked eyes with Jin, ignoring her father for now. So much was riding on this moment. Years of planning and strong-arming. His mouth felt as dry as a Skree desert. He plunged ahead.

  “Elam’s opinions on the wood elves were a minority, though a powerful one. I hope you’ve seen that in how you’ve been treated in the castle and on the streets. Some of his supporters remain—it’s true, and I’ll not deny it—but most of the people will support you. King Ulric wanted…dreamed of…exactly what you could provide, Jin. A united elven people.”

  “Support me?” Jin said. “Why would I need them to support me?”

  Alpere paused for a brief moment before speaking again. “Jin, we need you to rule us.”

  CHAPTER FIVE