Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One)

by Julian Saheed

Mandigal clenched his fist in frustration. "This cannot be true!" he said crossly.

  "Unfortunately it is," answered Aldan. He moved across the study and absently rubbed his hand against a statue of a running horse. "If Precedin has not already fallen, then it will in due time. You will not be able to stop twenty thousand soldiers from sacking the city."

  "Where did all this manpower come from?" asked Mandigal, finding it hard to accept the information that Aldan was telling him.

  "Zephra has been preparing for this campaign since his first day on the throne," replied Aldan. Mandigal flinched, vividly remembering his own part in Zephra's ascension to the throne.

  "He is not going to move out of Precedin yet though."

  Mandigal looked up. "Why not?"

  "He will wait until he has amassed his full forces. He moved on Precedin simply to ensure that you where not able to bolster its defenders. Now that he has ensured that the City of War is his, he will wait for the right moment to strike out into Feldom's heart. Those twenty thousand men already in Feldom are but a part of the entire army," continued Aldan.

  "Explain?"

  "More men are being summoned."

  "Where is he finding the supplies to support such an army. There isn't enough food in all of Dargon to feed a force that large."

  "He is finding food. I know not from where it comes, but I have seen wagons full to the brim of grain and other supplies coming from Galdovan and the east. And that is not all," added Aldan softly.

  Mandigal sensed that Aldan was holding something back. "I want the truth. You must be honest with me."

  Aldan remained silent and moved back to his chair. The room was filled with his own collection of sculptures, paintings, tapestries and other expensive artworks that he had accumulated over his time as duke. "There are things happening in the shadows of Dargon that even I am unaware of. Strange creatures roam the land, lurking in the darkness and haunting our dreams. Storms and blizzards of immense power attack our cities, though they are not Nyrune's work. And that is not all. It seems as though the world itself has been somehow...," Aldan struggled to find a suitable word, "distorted."

  "I have felt this change as well. It came after the bridge of bone rose from the depths of Lake Moonsong."

  "Yes, that has something to do with it," agreed Aldan. "I have spoken with many of my wisest advisors and all are bereft of a logical answer. It is a mystery that is growing ever more puzzling. I personally believe it is the result of whatever Zephra is doing in his hidden lairs. Of late he has rarely been seen by my people, and when he does show himself he talks as if he is in a terrible rush. As if he has somewhere more important to be." Aldan began scratching nervously behind his ears. If Zephra found out that he was sharing this information with Mandigal, the punishment would be unimaginable. "The other dukes are angry, Mandigal. There are whispers amongst some of removing Zephra from the throne, but all are too afraid of his wrath to take action. Not as much of Dargon is as dedicated to this campaign as you may think. Many of our people have grown tired of the fighting and violence and seek to build a more peaceful life. A life much like that of your friends the Feldonians."

  "Then the cities are not united under one banner?" asked Mandigal in a hopeful tone.

  "To an extent they are," replied Aldan. "Though my city will send no soldiers to war. I have seen enough of my people die. What we need is trade, so that we may have grain and fruits and the other things we cannot grow in our frozen lands. I long for a peaceful end to all of these problems. Not a war!" Aldan paused for a moment with a sorrowful expression. "But it is clear that there is no hope for that...Fortunately Zephra's union of the Dargonian cities is treading a fine line. Many of the smaller dukedoms have been forced into the war by Zephra's threats and only the fear of his power keeps the union together. Though I have to admit that lately things have turned even worse. In his absence, Zephra has left his general in charge of things."

  "Dithus of Carnaic?" queried Mandigal.

  Aldan shook his head and a strange look graced his face. "Zephra has given command of his army to the late Azbaar Ingel."

  Mandigal's face darkened with confusion. "Azbaar is dead. A foul beast killed him in the Beon Ranges. I watched as his body was laid to rest in the Tomb of the Moon."

  "Azbaar did die, but somehow Zephra has given life to the once deceased. Azbaar walks this land once more, now a twisted and horrid shell of a man. Mutated by the corrupt magic that brought him back to this world."

  Mandigal sunk back into his chair, feeling nauseous from this shocking news. "What is happening?" he breathed. "The rules that once governed this world seem to be crumbling around us. Nothing makes sense anymore."

  "Azbaar has departed with the Dargonian army," interrupted Aldan. "But soon Zephra's real commander will bring his own soldiers to your borders."

  Mandigal looked up from his thoughts. "Luschia!" he muttered spitefully. He winced as he remembered the time that he and Zephra had spent together with Luschia in the Academy of Gushkall. The time before Luschia's murderous outbursts had led to their banishment.

  Aldan did not need to confirm Mandigal's guess. "He has not yet amassed his full forces, but I do not think you will have long before he makes his move."

  "How many more?"

  "Close to thirty thousand," answered Aldan.

  "Great gods!" gasped Mandigal. "Such a great number of men. This is something that we cannot stop. It is an army to end this struggle once and for all." Mandigal wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "The Alliance must be warned."

  Aldan cast a worried look at Mandigal. "That is another problem. Your Alliance is not what it seems...It crumbles from within."

  "What do you speak of?" asked Mandigal with narrow eyes.

  "It has been too easy for Zephra to bring about his war. The Alliance should have seen the signs years ago and taken action to ready themselves for the onslaught. Yet for some reason both Feldom and Karmena sat idly by and let Zephra's power amass," explained Aldan.

  "We were blinded by our own arrogance and thought that we were finally rid of the rivalry between our nations," reasoned Mandigal.

  Aldan shook his head. "No. Even a blind man would have heard the pound of the hammer striking the anvil as his enemies made new weapons for war. It is more than arrogance that has stopped your Alliance from seeing the truth. There are those in Feldom and Karmena who, unbeknownst to you, are working under Zephra's influence."

  "That cannot be. How could Zephra's spies have such an impact on the running of the Alliance?" disagreed Mandigal, not willing to believe Aldan's accusations.

  "They must be in positions of power to be able to have such an effect. Would you not agree?"

  "You know who these people are?" asked Mandigal, suspecting that Aldan was hiding this from him.

  "Names I do not know, Mandigal. Though I do know that the rulers of these nations have been tainted by the poisonous words of Zephra's people. Look to the Council of Elders for I know in truth that at least one amongst them is not what they seem."

  Mandigal let out a deep sigh and rubbed his aching head. "This is madness, Aldan. If someone in the Council is corrupt it would be almost impossible to flush them out. I would be accused of treason, especially with my history."

  "That is your problem. I cannot help you find this agent in the Council. Act as you see fit," said Aldan. "I have enough troubles of my own to deal with. My life is in great danger and even worse, so is that of my son." A look of utter grief crossed Aldan's face as he spoke.

  "You have always lived in fear of death. What makes it so much more serious now?" asked Mandigal.

  "This new crusade," answered Aldan. "Zephra knows that I could use this campaign against him. I could rally a large chunk of the Dargonian people to my cause if I promised to bring an end to the fighting. They would support me in my claim to the throne. He is well aware of this and will not keep me around long enough to let me take advantage of it. Friedrich is in even more trouble, for the
populous love him. Zephra already has his men stalking my son's every move. It will not be long until he decides that our time on this plane is up."

  Mandigal sat in silence for a long time considering all of this new information. "Then you have a choice, Aldan," stated Mandigal. "Wait until your time has come, or become the King of Dargon."

  Aldan peered up at Mandigal. "Are you insane? You want me to challenge Zephra for the throne of Galdovan."

  Mandigal simply nodded.

  "That is not far from suicide," blurted out Aldan.

  "Zephra will not kill you that quickly. He would have a civil war on his hands if he does."

  "He will find a way, believe me," retorted Aldan. His voice grew weak. "I cannot do it."

  "If you desire peace for Dargon as your father once did, then you will cast aside your fear and accept this task that has fallen to you," said Mandigal, raising his voice. "If Zephra is allowed free reign of this world it will be the end off all things good. In his search for power he will bring about the destruction of Kovi."

  "Let's not forget that it was you who helped Zephra murder my father and claim that damned throne!" retaliated Aldan harshly.

  "Do not feel the need to remind me of my past failures," returned Mandigal. "I know my part in all of this and I am doing all in my power to make amends for it. What are you doing?"

  "I am but one man," argued Aldan weakly.

  "You are the Duke of Vladistov and the rightful heir of the Hermagoras bloodline," shot back Mandigal. "You are the only one who can do this."

  Aldan rose from his chair and walked nervously to a decanter of wine. He poured himself a cup and took a long sip, letting out a weary breath afterwards. "You ask much of me," he said.

  "Often those who make the biggest difference do so not because they are brave, but because it is their duty," said Mandigal softly. "As Oril Firestorm once said, there are those of us who in dire times must rise up to thwart the evil that comes upon our land, lest we all be drawn asunder by the darkness that it brings."

  Aldan's eyes closed and his features revealed his conflicting emotions.

  "I must go Aldan. There is much that you have told me I must see to. If there is still time before Zephra moves out of Precedin then Feldom must be made ready. And I will go to Karmena to seek answers to these riddles that plague our land."

  "Do something for me before you leave," said Aldan.

  "What?"

  "Take Friedrich with you. Take him to Feldom and keep him safe, away from Zephra's grasp," pleaded Aldan.

  Mandigal face turned grim. "Now it is you who asks much of me, Brother. I have work to do and I am headed to Duathnin not Feldom."

  "If Friedrich does not leave Vladistov soon he will be killed," pressed Aldan. "You cannot just leave him here to die."

  "Do not push this guilt onto me," said Mandigal angrily. "I have no responsibility to that boy, or your troubles. I am still one of the Maloreichar and my interests lie with the safekeeping of the Kingdom."

  "Were it not for your help, his grandfather would still be around and he would not have to fear for his life," returned Aldan.

  Mandigal let out a deep breath, full of resent and shook his head.

  Aldan turned away from Mandigal peering out of his study window. "Please, Mandigal. Take him with you. For whatever love that you held for our mother, I beg you."

  Mandigal sat in silence for long time and finally replied, "Where is he?"