The Kingdom

by Bryan M. Litfin

  “And with you, my brother.”

  The two men met each other’s gaze for a moment. Then, having said all there was to say, they turned away and did not look back.

  A week passed, riding by day, camping by night. Now Ana stood near the edge of the expedition’s encampment, staring down at the little game trail at her feet. The sixty knights were caring for their horses or starting campfires, but Ana couldn’t think about such things. The narrow path held her complete attention.

  “Go up,” Vanita said gently. “I’ll take care of things here.”

  Ana nodded, yet still she hesitated to move.

  Teo came to her side. “Come on. We’ll go together.” And so she went.

  The sun sat low on the horizon as Ana climbed toward the top of the bluff. She walked in silence, holding hands with Teo, taking her time. A thick carpet of forest debris muffled their footsteps. The only sound was the warbling of a robin that flitted from branch to branch as if it enjoyed their company.

  At last the game trail topped out. The bluff wasn’t particularly high or dramatic. Its views weren’t all that spectacular. Yet to Ana it was the most beautiful place she could imagine.

  “There it is,” Teo said, breaking the contemplative silence. “The great bend in the Farm River.” He pointed to a ribbon of water that curved around in a tight arc. The bluff lay inside the bend like a peninsula. It was the official boundary between the Kingdom of Chiveis and the Beyond.

  “Where’s the clearing?” Ana asked. “Can you tell? I think it’s this way.” She pulled Teo’s hand toward an opening in the trees.

  “You’re right,” he said, glancing around. “It’s more overgrown now, but I can still see the ruts left by the wild boars.”

  “Look!” Ana ran to a whitish object buried in the brush. She bent down and turned it over—the skull of a large bear. A hole pierced the skull beneath the eye socket.

  Teo knelt next to Ana, searching the soil. At last he found what he sought. He held out a muddy arrowhead in his palm. “One of the three greatest shots I’ve ever seen you make,” he said with a grin.

  Ana cocked her head and looked at Teo. “Three? You probably think the second was the guy with the grappling hook, right?”

  “Yeah. That was unbelievable.”

  “So what’s the third?”

  Teo mimicked the motion of an archer drawing a bow. He released the imaginary string, then intoned, “You picked the wrong woman, Rothgar!” Ana burst into laughter at Teo’s imitation, yet she could tell that behind his playfulness lay deep admiration. All three of those shots had saved Teo’s life.

  For a while the pair fell silent, each lost in thought as they meandered around the clearing. A gentle breeze stirred the high, cathedral-like trees. Rosy light filtered through the branches, dappling the forest floor. At last Teo approached Ana.

  “What are you thinking right now?” he asked.

  She turned to face him, slipping her arms around his body and laying her head on his chest. “Oh, Teo, what can I say? When I met you here almost three years ago, how could I have imagined all the things we’d experience? The mountains of Ulmbartia, the seas of Likuria, the basilica of Roma, the wild beauty of Sessalay. We made great friends in the Beyond, and horrible enemies too. I faced trials I thought I’d never survive. But Deu was faithful to us in everything.” Ana sighed deeply as she rested in Teo’s embrace. “You and I have shared an amazing adventure, Captain.”

  At those words Teo pulled back from Ana so he could look into her eyes. She tilted her chin to gaze up at him. His handsome face held a tender expression. “Do you think our adventure is over?” he asked.

  A broad smile came to Ana’s lips. “With all my heart, Teo, I hope it’s just begun.”

  C H A P T E R

  13

  Queen Mother Katerina stood on the highest balcony of the royal palace, her hands resting on the balustrade as she gazed across the great Kingdom of Chiveis. The Citadel’s wall stretched below her, spanning the cleft in the mountains and overlooking the rugged frontlands beyond. All the buildings of the Citadel, including the palace, relied on the wall for protection. Some lay in the flat area directly behind the imposing granite face, while others rose in tiers on the adjacent mountainsides, culminating with the royal palace at the highest point. The only other building to stretch so high was the spire-adorned Capital Temple of Astrebril—a nest of shifty eunuch priests and seductive cult prostitutes.

  Yanking her eyes from the temple, Katerina looked beyond the Citadel’s wall to the thriving town of Entrelac. Flanked on either side by two large lakes, Entrelac was the connection point between the valleys protected by the Citadel and the wider environs of Chiveis. The fishermen who lived on the lakeshores and the farmers along the Farm River could flee to the Citadel if times grew perilous. The Beyond was infested with deadly threats, and only Astrebril held them back.

  Or so it was said.

  A knock on the door inside the palace signaled the arrival of a steward. Katerina was in her son’s chambers, waiting for the impetuous king to return from whatever political duty occupied him at the moment. Katerina recalled how busy her husband Piair I had been when he ruled as king. Their son had yet to prove himself capable of carrying such a load.

  Hurrying to the door, she pulled it open but found the steward had already walked away. The man spun in the hallway when he heard the door open behind him. “Oh, my lady! I thought no one was in.”

  “Piair is busy, and I was out on the balcony. What did you need?”

  The steward held up an envelope. “A message for the king. A dispatch from the army.”

  “You can give it to me. I’ll pass it on.”

  The steward chewed his lip as he sought a diplomatic reply. “Well . . . my lady . . . it’s an important military matter. I’d prefer to deliver it to His Highness personally. You understand, I’m sure.”

  “What I understand is that the king does not wish you to be rude to his mother,” Katerina said pointedly. She held out her hand. “Leave it with me. I will take responsibility and absolve you of all blame.”

  The steward placed the letter in Katerina’s palm. “As you wish, Queen Mother.” He bowed at the waist, turned, and left.

  Katerina took the letter back to the balcony and laid it on the table. Pouring herself a mug of cold juniper tea, she sipped it as she enjoyed the warm sun on her shoulders. Puffy white clouds dotted the sky, casting shadows on the jagged Chiveisian frontlands. The queen mother glanced again at the envelope. On impulse, she snatched it up and opened it.

  Her eyes grew wide as she scanned the note. It was from the commander of the Royal Guard’s Second Regiment. Katerina set down her mug and stared at the message in her hand:

  TO HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, PIAIR II

  I regret to report a problem has arisen among the peasants—a religious matter about which you asked us to warn you. Four weeks ago a farmer and his wife from Edgeton visited the headquarters of the Fifth Regiment. The woman spoke favorably about the god Deu in the presence of several witnesses. Both were heard to blaspheme Astrebril and criticize your most glorious and beneficial reign. The aforesaid peasants are called Stratetix of Edgeton and Helena d’Armand. (No doubt your quick mind will recognize that surname.) Since I did not know your royal will in this matter, I have refrained from action. I await your instructions and stand ready to carry them out immediately.

  Rexilius of Toon

  Commander, Second Regiment

  Katerina rose from the table. Her heart was beating fast as she leaned against the balcony railing for support. Glancing around, she ascertained that no one could see her, then reached to a jeweled locket at her neck. By pressing on the silver filigree in just the right way, the case could be made to pop open. A tiny painting was hidden inside: a youthful face with a dark goatee, a man of science and learning. The queen mother stared at it for a long time before snapping the pendant shut.

  A cloud covered the sun, bringing welcome shade. The wind s
tirred a tendril of Katerina’s hair, and she brushed it from her forehead.

  “What are you up to, Helena d’Armand?” she whispered to the hills.

  Teo crouched behind a rocky crag, staring down at the Farm River. In the distance, four heavily laden boats approached from the Beyond, longships rowed by fourteen or sixteen shamans. A tall man was visible in the prow of the lead ship—clad in dark mail, carrying a mace, and searching the river ahead with his one good eye. The Iron Shield had come to Chiveis.

  Rising from his hiding place, Teo turned toward the trail. Though it was rough, he made good time as he hurried downhill to the river. The last time he came this way, he was limping badly, for he had sprained his knee while stumbling before an onrushing bear. But that was nearly three years ago, and his body bore no such harm now. He was lean and fit from his weeks of wilderness travel. His calf wound had fully healed. Teo was ready to do battle against his greatest foe.

  The sixty Knights of the Cross were stationed along the riverbank under deep cover. They were armed with enough arrows to keep shooting at the longships if they tried to escape, though Teo didn’t think that would happen. After the first volley, the boats would turn and engage or they’d be decimated from behind. And besides, running from danger was not the way of the Iron Shield.

  “You ready?” Teo asked Marco as they knelt in the brush. The handsome ex-pirate grinned and nodded with the kind of panache few men could muster in the moments before a skirmish. Teo clasped Marco’s shoulder and drew strength from his brother-in-arms.

  “I just hope the women will be safe,” Marco said.

  “They’re saddled and waiting at the rendezvous point. It was all I could do to convince Ana to stay out of the battle. I had to appeal to her father’s unbearable grief if his daughter died just as she reached the border of her homeland.”

  Marco gave a little laugh as his eyes scanned the river. “She’s a fighter, that girl of yours.”

  She’s had to be, Teo thought.

  The men waited in silence as the sun rose higher. Occasionally a knight coughed or rustled the bushes, but otherwise everything was still. Teo tightened the strap on the helmet he had borrowed from the brotherhood. It was a finely wrought piece of armor with eyeholes and a nose guard, though not a full visor. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek and dropped from his chin.

  “They’re here,” Marco whispered.

  And they were.

  The four vessels eased upstream, slinking ever closer to Chiveis with their deadly cargo. Barrels and crates were piled amidships. Though the shamans’ attitude was not carefree as they rowed, they seemed oblivious to the imminent attack.

  Teo stood up and drew his longbow, its yew heartwood creaking under the strain. Down the shoreline, he knew the sixty Christiani archers were doing the same.

  “Do me a favor,” Marco said as he looked up at Teo from a crouch. “Put a few shafts in the tall guy before he hits land.” Teo threw his friend a smile but made no promises.

  The longships drew even with the archers, their oars sweeping and catching in unison. Teo waited until the last boat had reached him, then took a deep breath and shouted, “Now!” At the same moment he released the bowstring and sent a shaman to his eternal destiny.

  The whispering sound of the barrage of arrows was followed by yells of alarm. The Farm River wasn’t a broad watercourse, and the longships were close to the near bank. Though some of the black-clad shamans slumped in their seats, many more still manned the oars. They turned hard at the shouted commands, maneuvering surprisingly well in the mayhem. Two more volleys whistled toward the ships before the enemy reached the shore. Now the time for bows was over. Blade against blade would determine the final outcome.

  The Exterminati swarmed over the gunwales like hornets from a nest. Their war cries reverberated among the trees as they rushed to engage their unknown attackers. Teo dropped his bow and slid the sword of Armand from its sheath. One warrior in the distance held his attention, but Teo knew he would have to fight his way to the Iron Shield.

  A shaman rushed at Teo in a whirlwind of black robes and flashing steel. Teo parried the attacker’s curved dagger with his ax and countered with a thrust of his own. The sword’s razor-sharp tip slid through the man’s sternum like a knife in hot butter. Teo let the wide-eyed man fall off the slick red blade, then stepped over the corpse and leaped into the melee.

  Battle raged along the bank of the Farm River. Teo weaved among the combatants, swinging his ax and sword with deadly effect. Cries of anguish filled the air as blood-smeared warriors fell to the ground. A snarling shaman reared in front of Teo, whirling a heavy flail over his head. Teo ducked under the ball as it whizzed past on its chain. He was about to counterattack when a blow rang hard against the back of his helmet. Dizziness engulfed him, and he stumbled to his knees. His vision dimmed as he tried to shake off the effects of the impact. The shaman with the flail threw back his arm, readying the spiked ball for a crushing blow. Suddenly a blade sliced down from the periphery of Teo’s view. Gore spattered his face as the enemy shaman’s arm was severed from his shoulder by a pirate cutlass. Teo scrambled to his feet and kicked the one-armed attacker aside, but there was no time to stop and thank Marco for his lifesaving intervention. The fighting was heavy, and Teo quickly lost contact with his friend.

  Not far away, the Iron Shield fought his way across a sandy beach, cleaving a path through the knights with his giant mace. Three arrows protruded from his chain mail, but the points hadn’t gone deep. Teo ran to the powerful warrior just as he crushed a knight to the ground in a heap of pulp and bone.

  The Iron Shield stared at Teo’s helmet for a moment, then smiled as recognition came to him. “So you found me,” he said, spreading his arms wide. “Very good. Come and get what you seek.”

  Teo gestured at the raging battle. “You’ve lost. Look around. Your men have fallen. You’re outnumbered now.”

  The Iron Shield threw back his head and laughed. Teo flinched at the otherworldly rumble that emanated from his enemy’s chest. The dark warrior took a step forward, hefting his mace. “No, Teofil. It is you who should look around.”

  From the river a trumpet sounded. Teo felt the icy grip of fear as he glanced over the Iron Shield’s shoulder. Armed men on the opposite bank were shoving boats into the water, probably a hundred or more. It wouldn’t take them long to cross. All were hungry for a brawl.

  Outsiders!

  Stunned, Teo drew back. His knights couldn’t resist both the shamans and the new arrivals. Even a strategic withdrawal seemed impossible now. Utter defeat was at hand.

  “I’ll have your woman tonight,” the Iron Shield vowed. “Perhaps I shall let you live long enough to see it.” The sadistic warrior spat out his threat like venom, then raised his mace and charged.

  Teo reacted by instinct. He clicked the gemstone on his war ax, which advanced a steel ball into a cup at the end of the weapon’s haft. With a strong flick of his arm Teo whipped the ball at the Iron Shield, striking him on the forehead. The warrior stopped in his tracks and cursed, clutching his face. Though he wasn’t disabled, he was stunned, and for a split second Teo considered attacking him. Yet he knew that even if he managed to kill his enemy, the horde of outsiders would do the same to him. Escape must be his sole objective now, and only one thing would keep the shamans from pursuing.

  Teo ran to the lead ship, which contained the expedition’s supplies. He snatched a large cask and held it above his head in two hands as he dashed to the next ship. Without stopping, he hurled the cask against the crates stacked between the thwarts. The barrel broke open in a cascade of lantern oil, dousing the wooden boxes.

  An arrow from the river slammed into the gunwale near Teo’s hand. Another whizzed past his ear. He ducked behind the longship, hunching against its hull as he fumbled for the matches in his pocket.

  “Stop him!” roared the Iron Shield, who knelt on the beach with a hand to his bloody forehead. “Kill that man!” Two shamans swivel
ed their heads and spotted Teo. They barreled at him with their daggers drawn.

  Help me, Deu, Teo prayed as he struck the match against the side of the box. The flame flared up. He tossed it over his shoulder. It spun through the air.

  And the wind blew it out.

  No!

  What happened next was a blur. High above, something yellow and bright lifted from the trees and curved through the sky in a graceful arc. At the same moment the charging shamans reached Teo in a maelstrom of murderous fury. Just as they were about to plunge their daggers into him, he sprang onto the gunwale of the ship and dived over their heads. Their blades stabbed the ship’s planks where Teo had just been crouching. He hit the ground behind them and rolled to his feet to see the fire arrow plant itself in the stack of brimstone crates. The lantern oil exploded into a leaping blaze.

  “Nooo!” came an anguished cry from the beach. “Get water! Hurry!”

  While all the shamans scurried toward the burning boat, Teo joined the other knights escaping into the trees. Horses had been stationed nearby in case a retreat became necessary. The surviving knights would have to withdraw into the wilderness to fight again another day.

  Teo reached the rendezvous point and swung into the saddle. As he kicked his heels and urged his horse into the dense forest, the full weight of the rout settled onto his shoulders. Many good warriors had fallen. Although some of the Iron Shield’s infernal rock might have been destroyed, not all of it was. The dark warrior would have a large shipment to give to his queen.

  Yet even as Teo considered this disaster, a positive thought crept into his mind, lifting his spirits amid the gloom of defeat. He couldn’t help but shake his head in wonder.

  That was a fourth great shot, he decided as he was enveloped by the Beyond.

  Helena d’Armand gripped her husband’s hand when the carriage door opened. Guardsmen stood at attention outside the royal palace at the Citadel, their faces impassive.