Rise of the Darekian's, The

by Wood, Andrew

  He was awoken by a small hand shaking him, "Father, wake up, he wants to talk to you" said the voice of the boy looking down at him. "Taylor, who wants to talk to me, everyone is asleep," he said quietly. The darkness was still shrouding the surrounding area, the campfires having died down to little more than piles of glowing embers. The young boy shook him again, as he tried to close his eyes, "the man in your dreams, the one who tried to talk to you, he says his name is Sandred." This got Luken sitting up, though even more confused, how Taylor could know of the man that had so haunted his dreams of late, that voiceless face that talked to him without any words. Taylor shuffled over so he sat against his father, "Sandred says he apologises for having to utilise me as a go between, but he cannot comprehend the reasoning as to why he is unable to link in communication with you." Luken sat there with the look of total awe, shock and amazement on his tired face; those were certainly not the words of his six-year-old boy.

  The young prince was not really quite certain what to do or say, now not only did he have the remnants of a city to worry about, he was now faced with his young son hearing a voice speak in his mind. In an effort not to worry the boy, he thought for now to play along and see what materialises, "tell Sandred, hello, and maybe ask what he wants?" he said in a whisper as not to awaken any others sleeping around them. Taylor replied in his own soft whisper, "He says he can hear your words when you speak them to me, though he is unable to reply in your mind despite numerous efforts of late to do so." Taylor paused a little nodding and smiling as if listening, "he says he wants to help us, he says you have much to learn Father and he wants me to help you."

  They talked for a little while longer, mainly on the reasons why this man who spoke through his son wanted to help. They learned he was from the Isle of Kelan, a place where stories spoke of an impenetrable fortress, which housed a great and powerful wizard. A man so powerful, that he sought to lock himself away from the world. These had always been nothing more than fables, though Luken was quickly made aware that perhaps there was after all some truth to them. However, this wizard was apparently not as powerful as his legendary status would have people believe. "He says he needs rest now father, and he will speak further in the morning," Taylor said bringing the ever-lengthening list of questions Luken had thought of asking to an abrupt end.

  Chapter 7.

  Father Dagon rode most of the night, taking time to rest his horse when necessary, until tiredness of his own body caused him to nearly fall from his mount. Deciding maybe a few hours of sleep would probably be beneficial, to both his lathered horse as well as himself. As chance would have it, and he thought to himself, perhaps his luck had at last taken a turn for the better. He awoke to the noise of horses and men marching past his position just off the road. Quickly saddling his horse and mounting, he rode out to meet the men marching past, only to be confronted by the points of a dozen arrows, strung in bows and ready to kill him at a whim.

  A man who Dagon assumed was an officer by the stripes on his jacket, rode along the lines towards him, "who are you?" came the shout. "My name is Father Dagon and I seek the man in charge" he replied, still rather gingerly looking at the points of those arrow shafts aimed at his direction. With a wave of the officers arm, the bows all lowered their aim and their strings relaxed, "I am in charge, what do you want Father, we make haste to Hamalin."

  Dagon looked at the man, "I am sorry to inform you sir, that Hamalin is no more, its walls still barely stand but almost every building within is crumbling to dust." Not only the officer, but also the men around gasped and appeared in total shock at those words. "Explain" the officer said, "we witnessed the lights above the city from our position, and as our enemy appears to be heading westwards, we thought to drop a little south to see what was going on before resuming our pursuit." Dagon sighed, "I am led to believe those very lights you witnessed sir are somehow what bought about the destruction. I myself do not understand what happened, all I know is when they disappeared, Hamalin ceased to be the city we knew. I myself had returned to see the destruction." The officer looked at Dagon, attempting to digest the news he had been given, "if what you say is true, what of the people?"

  Father Dagon dropped his gaze, and though no word was spoken, the soldiers around him knew the answer to the question. "Everyone?" asked another voice, "sir we must go back, my wife and child..." he added looking expectantly at Dagon and then his commanding officer."Are all the people gone Father?" the officer asked. "I believe..." he waited for the officer to give his name, "sorry... Captain Jak Corley" the officer introduced himself before Dagon continued. "I believe Captain, that our young prince has survived and is leading those fortunate to survive westwards, but how many, and who else survives I do not know." Jak Corley pondered a moment, how does this man know the prince survives, perhaps he does not tell the truth, but why would he lie about such things? "Ride with us Father, although I do not doubt your words, you will not I'm sure, mind us looking for ourselves." The captain waved a hand, and two of the mounted soldiers positioned themselves either side of Dagon. "Captain I assure you, what I say is the utter truth, we must move westwards, the prince will need protection. There are invaders around these parts, you yourself are aware of such; we must therefore head without haste towards him."

  Jak thought for a little while, "very well Father Dagon, we shall head west as you request, I intend though to send a few riders to verify what you say is truth. They will rendezvous with us later, if I found you have led me astray, and then you better pray to your gods I do not have you strung up." Dagon gulped, "luckily for me I speak the truth sir, now we must make haste. The prince would not thank you I am sure, if he is attacked and has no one to defend him, because one of his captains did not believe what he was told." Jak Corley gave the father a hard stare, "do not push me, a religious man you maybe, and for your information the young prince of whom you speak is a good friend." Before he quickly thought, "tell me father, perhaps if you know of the princes well being, maybe you could update me, does he still have the young girl with him?" Dagon smiled, "you attempt to trick me Captain, and the child you speak of is a boy. Taylor I believe he is called, and yes the last time I saw the prince the young boy" emphasising that word, "was still with his highness, much to the disgust of his father so I was to believe." Jak chuckled at the thought of Luken before it dawned, "are we to believe the king and queen are safe with the prince? Or..." he left the question hanging, knowing the answer by the look on Dagon's face.

  Luken awoke, his newly adopted young son already awake and sitting up beside him. The sun was rising and the camp around was now visible to him. Already people walked around, some carrying more firewood, others carrying buckets of water collected from the nearby stream, and the smell of cooking drifted on the air. "Hey, come on let's get you dressed and fed" he said to Taylor, who greeted him with his usual morning smile and hug. After both having a bowl of porridge bought to them, they sat and ate quietly at first, before Luken just had to ask the question that had been in his head since he awoke. "Taylor is the man talking in your head still?" the little boy put another spoon of the stodgy mixture in to his mouth, apparently content with his breakfast. "No Father, perhaps he still sleeps. He is very old I think," Taylor said innocently, before continuing with his eating.

  Luken suffered the gruel like consistency of his breakfast, hoping he would not have to survive many days on eating such food. He looked down at Taylor as a thought struck him, he had no sooner sworn that the poor child would be free from poverty, no more going hungry or sleeping rough, and now it appeared here he was putting him through the very same thing once more. Almost sensing his father's feelings the young boy looked up from his bowl, he then placed it on the ground and stood up and wrapping his arms around Luken, comforting him in the only, way he knew how. Luken held the boy tight, "we'll be fine," he whispered with a tear in his eye, before releasing the hug and continuing with the stodgy mixture in his bowl.

  The camp busied themselves, feed
ing so many children took time and effort, and whilst they did complete the task, it was clear that they would benefit from some improved organisation, exactly how Luken had not yet worked it out. His pondering was bought to an abrupt end by Taylor pulling on his sleeve, "Sandred wishes to talk Father." Trying to find a quiet spot was not an easy thing to achieve without wandering away from the camp. "He says please listen, we must be careful, he has made contact with some of our soldiers and they hasten their way to us. For now though we must be prepared to defend ourselves if need be." Luken was about to speak when Taylor held up his hand, "Sandred says there are bad people and worse things moving westwards par...Parallel" the young boy struggled with the unfamiliar word, "to us. He says if they spotted our campfires they may turn towards us so we must prepare ourselves just in case." Before his father could get to speak and ask so much as a single question, "he has gone again" Taylor finished up with a his usual big warming smile.

  After finding General Skalton, Luken informed him of what he knew, and although the man looked somewhat bemused to how the prince would know of such things, he did not argue. "I think it may be prudent your highness if we were to arm the people, I am sure some of them at least would have some basic knowledge of a bow or sword. I also think we need to make haste towards Forwich, there at least we would have some safety in numbers, as well as shelter for the children, out here as we are we are quite vulnerable. If we can make good progress today, camp tonight without fires so not give away our position, we should make the town by mid afternoon tomorrow." Luken listened and nodded, bowing to the man's much better knowledge in how to deal with such a situation, before he added, "very well General, I will speak amongst the people and see them armed. I will leave it to you and your men to try and keep us from harm." With that, the General bowed, before turning away with pace shouting orders to two guards nearby.

  Luken stood atop a wagon, watching the people crowd around it, as word was put out the prince wished to speak. Once satisfied enough were assembled, he cleared his throat, nervously holding Taylors hand at his side. "I have spoken with the officers of our soldiers and we think it best we head for Forwich. If we can make good progress, hopefully by tomorrow evening we should be there." He waited for the crowd to have a mumble amongst itself before adding the not so good news, "However, we are led to believe we may have intruders upon our lands, somewhere to the north of us, and as such we ask no camp fires tonight, we would not want to invite trouble." There were a few grumbling voices but not as many as he thought, and he realised if they had already been spotted from the previous nights fires, they may have already invited trouble, only time would tell, and if that was the case they must be prepared. "I therefore, would like to ask any person who has some, any skill really, with a sword or bow to please step to the front so we may equip you with weapons. I do not mean to frighten or add further misery but we, the officers and I, think it prudent to be prepared should we encounter any willing to do us further harm." There were a few cheers, and he was quite pleased with his speech, considering it was the first public one he had ever had to make, though he knew it would most likely not be the last.

  He watched as a number of older boys of a similar age to himself, men of all ages and surprisingly to him, a number of women shuffled their ways through the crowd to the front, each willing to take up arms for their defence. Levin was one of the first to step forward, and although at first they considered him to young, a nod from Luken was all it took to see him given a short sword and bow. Over a hundred took the bows and quivers of arrows as well as a smaller side arm, usually a dagger though some took the short swords. Twenty-four took the heavier longer swords and shields, not surprisingly, a lesser amount, as he knew himself very well, how difficult it was to hold both up, unless you had some considerable strength in both arms. With the crowd dispersed and told to break camp immediately, the General gave instructions, not only to his men but the new recruits, where he wanted them, what they needed to do if they did come under attack, as well as Luken was sure much more, though he did not stand around to listen.

  Levin stood adjusting his new sword as it hung from his belt. A full quiver of arrows was attached at his waist the other side and a bow slung across his back. No sooner had he remounted his horse, strangely the very same one he had ridden on his escape from Lanber, than the man he recognised as General Skalton moved towards him. "You know how to use those?" he asked referring to the weapons. Levin thought for a moment he was going to have them taken off him, and given to someone older, and that probably explained why he spoke more sharply than he meant. "Of course I do, I may be young but..." he shouted, "alright no need to go on the defensive, I was just enquiring," the General spoke over him. The two stared at each other for a few seconds, as if in an effort to suss each other's thoughts. "Do a favour for me then, stay close to the prince. He appears to like you, so from now on where he goes, you follow...understand?" Levin was almost shocked, having been told only ten minutes ago that he was too young; he was now tasked with the personal protection of the only known surviving royal.

  Levin felt a certain pride at being asked, "I will protect him with my life," he answered to the General who still stared at him. "I am hoping it does not, nor will not ever come to that son, but if it does you understand the prince must survive, at all costs." Levin nodded in acceptance, "I understand" he added, "you understand what?" Levin was a little confused at the remark. The General smirked, "if I task you with such an important job, one that means you become one of my guards, it is the norm to answer with a 'sir' at the end." Levin felt a bit stupid once the penny had dropped, "sorry sir, I understand my task sir" he flustered. After waiting for a few seconds, thinking some other special order might be given, "well go on then" the General said still smiling, "you cannot guard him if you are sat upon your horse staring at me now can you?" Levin smiled back; "on my way sir" he said nudging his horse away, and trotting off in the direction of his prince.

  Watching Taylor riding the old pony, one of the many animals they had managed to save from the royal stables, Gracie, the very creature he had learned to ride on himself when he had been of a similar age. The youngster had taken to riding as a fish did to swimming; actually, Luken was constantly being surprised by how quickly he learned many things. It was as if he had been starved of so much knowledge for so long, he now craved for as much as possible, always asking, always inquisitive. Not foolish nonsense questions as you may expect from a six year old, but ones that at times Luken himself was not even sure of the answers. Noticing his father staring at him, "no I am sorry Father, Sandred is not with me at the moment," sensing that was going to be the question he was going to be asked, which strangely enough was the very exact one he was going to. "I was just wandering, why he wants me, I am certain there are many far more braver more intelligent people in the..." of course, Taylor would not know he thought not bothering to finish the question.

  What came next was even more surprising, for his son did give him some resemblance of an answer, "it is because you have great power, but Sandred says you do not know how to use it yet and he needs to teach you things, like you teach me. He says he is sending someone called Father...I forget his name." The youngster almost seemed disappointed he had done so, "anyway he is bringing you some book to read as well, to help explain. Sandred says you will be able to do magic Father, like the ones in the books we have," he added with a certain amount of excitement, though this all confused Luken still further. Had he not witnessed what he had in the last day or so, he would have thought Taylor spoke of nothing more than what a normal child would speak, that of a wild imagination, however due to recent events he was not so sure anymore.

  Riding in peace for a little while, his mind started filling with more questions, what if he did have some great power. Furthermore, if so what would he be able to do? Before realising, he was probably letting his own imagination run wild with such ludicrous thoughts. This did not however stop him from trying a few things, firstly he star
ed at the man riding in front of him, and using his new imaginary power, visualised the man falling off, and though he stared for a good few minutes nothing happened.

  Perhaps he thought a smaller target, or perhaps some hand motion was required, and after firstly thinking of Taylor, he quickly admonished himself for even having such a thought before deciding on a blanket roll tied to the horse of the man in front. Once more Luken stared whilst gesticulating his hand around in several bizarre motions, and tried to use his mind to make the thing do something, anything. However, much to his disappointment, he gave up before noticing the strange gaze of a few others around him, quite rightly wandering what he was doing. He quickly pretended he was stretching out some stiffness in his arm, before resuming a more normal position.

  Levin rode a few paces behind the prince and the young boy that was apparently his son. He had not yet quite fathomed how it worked, that someone only a few years older than himself had a son of six years old. He assumed it must be a similar arrangement to the one with him and the blacksmith, the one Jak Corley had arranged. After so many years of living a quiet peaceful life in Lanber, it appeared strange how the past few weeks had been such a contrast. His father would never believe it, to see his son riding just a few feet from the prince, and even more unbelievable, the fact his was given the task of royal protector. He still missed his father, and still had the mental picture of that last look he had given him. One thing his father had always taught him was not to dwell on the past, and although it was good to keep memories, try to make them happy ones. As such, Levin had tried to keep recalling the good times he could remember, growing up, the laughs they had shared and these were the memories that helped him cope.