by Wood, Andrew
Caldar stood atop the chapel, totally confused by the latest events. The Besemians besieging the two towns had not made any further aggressive moves towards him as of yet. More strangely was the arrival of thousands of mounted troops from the south. Expecting these to merge themselves with the men already camped they had stopped a mile short. Nothing very wrong with that he thought, but then the newcomers had started setting up a defensive line, not facing him, but those he thought they were joining. So as matters stood there appeared a three way standoff. Not that Caldar was ungrateful, though the uncertainty of the identity of the newcomers worried him. It was puzzling, the previous evening the fading light had made it near impossible to identify the banners being flown. Now the morning sun made visibility and identification quite clear. The flags and banners were indeed those of Besemia, but why did they face off against their own side? Indeed at their arrival, the men camped outside his town had themselves moved a bulk of men in a defensive position to face the newcomers.
Belin, King of Besemia sat with his face buried into his hands. The latest reports had come in, and although it appeared his incursions into Corlan had seen some limited success, the latest news was most grave. Seven of the southern lords had grouped together and amassed an army. This host was marching in his direction with the sole purpose of relieving him of the throne. His latest batch of rounding up civilians and sending north to Darekia had proven most unpopular. His move of having several of the lords, removed and replaced had caused outrage amongst the nobility. The south of Besemia housed the majority of the wealthier of the nation's citizens. Being home to its rich and fertile lands, it was sometimes called the 'Bread Basket' of the nation.
The Darekian priest entered the room, his dark cowl causing his face to look a mere shadow. "Your Majesty is troubled?" he asked in his hoarse creepy voice. Belin looked up, lowering his hands, "What have you had me do? My own people are marching against me. Most of my armies are in Corlan," he stood, and paced first one way then the other. "I have good news your majesty", Belin stopped in his tracks, "and what is this news?" The priest tilted his head slightly, looking at the man before him, "Hamalin has fallen, it is little more than dust and rubble, now as agreed Darekia will have its payment." The king was not quite sure what to do, the payment for this service was to be territories on his northern borders, with the south revolting he realised his country was fast becoming smaller.
"What do you mean priest? You say Hamalin is rubble," Belin asked thinking back on what he had just been told. A shadowed nod gave him his answer, "then enlighten me, how am I supposed to take the cities wealth if you have flattened it to rubble? It seems you have not carried out your part of the bargain correctly, therefore I shall not be giving you any more people or any territories." The priest clasped his bony hands together and paced over to the much shorter king, "Darekia will take payment as agreed. We said we would eliminate any threat from the city, and we have fulfilled that promise. We will take the lands and people as agreed with or without your say." Belin stood unsure what to say next, he was renowned for not having much of a backbone, but this once he stood tall. "Listen priest, I have been foolish enough to listen to you for too long. I think your services are over, Besemia will not be offering any more allegiance to your dirty stinking dung heap of a country." There he thought, pleased he had shown some sort of courage and resilience.
The priest however did not in any way look or sound flustered, "Darekia does not allow agreements to be broken. I think I will remain some time yet, moreover we shall take and do as we see fit. You seem to forget who has the power here, it is our armies that sweep across Corlan and soon it will be our armies that sweep across Besemia." Belin felt an anger build within, one he had never felt before, "I have ordered my men to Hamalin, and they are wasting their time. I need to send out riders and order them back; I will have them remove you and your stinking lot from my lands." The Darekian laughed, a rasping noise, "you really are a fool, you think your men follow your orders. They do so only now because we allow it, they are under a compulsion spell, and they will do whatever Darekia wants of them."
Belin slumped, the colour of his face drained, he realised he had been taken for a fool. He had, in a short time allowed a long time enemy of his people to worm its way into his court. Worse, even, the long time ally who had for many years helped keep the wolves of the north at bay was now at war with him. He knew he had been used and coerced into thinking he was going to be claiming the wealth of his neighbour. The Darekian had played and moved him like a game piece on a board, not only ending the allegiance with its ally Corlan, but also seeing to it that his own country was at war with itself. Darekia was now in such a strong position, not only was it now free to enter both countries at will, it had affectedly neutralised both as a competent fighting force by getting them to fight each other.
The Darekian priest moved towards the door, leaving Belin to wallow in his troubles but decided instead to turn back. Putting his hand inside his dark robe, "In fact I think Darekia has no need of King Belin any longer, you have served your purpose. One could even say you have played your part well," pulling a curved ornate dagger from the cover of his robe, lifting it high and striking it down. The blade buried itself into the side of Belin's neck, he wobbled then fell to his knees, and he exhaled a final expulsion of breath before slumping face down on the floor. "I have done you a favour, had I not ended your life, your own people would have probably seen to it. Consider your part in this over," he chuckled as he pulled out his knife causing a huge gush of blood to pool out on the white floor. He wiped the blade on the dead king's tunic before returning it to the cover of his robe, and leaving the room.
Luken spent the morning in the company of the young Lady Sarena. The pair sat in one of the houses with Taylor and the young baby she had rescued, and Levin stood at the doorway on guard duty. "I think I will call her Hope," Sarena said, "I do not know what her name was, but I think she epitomises us all." Luken thought for a few moments "I think that is a most appropriate and lovely name. Tell me, what do you plan to do with her....I mean are you intending on bringing her up as your own...I mean..." he started getting flustered. She smiled warmly at him, "I cannot let her go your high...err Luken. I just cannot..." Luken looked at her, taking her hand in his, "I understand completely. When I found this young man here," he put his other hand around Taylor, "well I knew I could not let anything bad happen to him. Then I knew the only way of ensuring that was to look after him myself. I even legally adopted him by royal decree, just before...well you know."
Taylor tugged at his father's shirt, "Sandred has a message for you. He wants you to go and see Father Dagon. He came with the other soldiers last night." Sarena looked very confused, "who is Sandred?" she asked, "ah! It is a long story. I doubt you would believe me if I told you" Luken replied. He knew all too well she would think him and Taylor totally barmy if he told her they heard voices and saw pictures of old men in their dreams. Standing and taking his sons hand, "If you will excuse me my Lady, I have someone to try and find." The young Lady stood as he was set to leave "Perhaps Luken we may speak again, over dinner perhaps...if that is alright with you of course, I mean if you want to that is." Luken nodded, blushing a little, "I would like that very much, until later then" he said.
As he left the house he squinted a little due to the brightness of the sunshine, "I do not suppose this Sandred told you what this man looked like?" he asked looking down. Taylor shook his head, "no I thought he wouldn't. I bet he never said why either, did he?" and once more his son shook his head. As they moved away from the house, Levin fell in behind him, and he noticed some twenty or more paces further back two of the elite guard, slowly and not very discreetly tagging along; instructions from General Skalton. After his heroics in saving the Lady Sarena, which of course had been almost disastrous. Had that Darekian soldier not suddenly burst into flames, Luken knew he would have most likely ended up skewered by the man's blade. Since he had obviously upset the Gene
ral by his antics, he thought it better not to complain when he was told he was going to be guarded at all times. He was glad Levin had been tasked with being the guard closest to him, and the proper guards did make an effort not to intrude to closely upon him.
Making their way down the street, passing what was left of the smouldering rows of buildings. He had decided to seek out Jak Corley, if the man he sought had arrived with him, he may know of his where about. A great idea it was, but finding the Captain was in itself somewhat of an adventure, finally catching sight of him riding back into the town. After a quick sprint, he and Taylor had at last caught up with him, which meant Levin and the guards behind them having to run to keep pace. Jak greeted both the prince and his son, and nodding beyond them to Levin. He listened, as Luken started to tell him of the man they sought. "Yes I know where he is, something strange about him. He somehow speaks to some chap using some magical stone. I myself got to use it got to speak with some eccentric called..." "Sandred" Luken and Taylor both said simultaneously. "Oh you know of him," Jak said, sounding almost disappointed his exclusivity in knowing was not as limited as he had first thought. "Yes Jak, both Taylor and I are constantly bugged by the man, anyway apparently he wants me to seek this Father Dagon."
Jak joined the group and the three of them still tailed by Levin and the guards, walked across to the market square and down a smaller side street where very few buildings still stood. Once they had turned a corner, Luken could see a short balding man, one whose face showed sign of age, waving at them as if to draw attention to him. "I assume by the fellow swinging his arms around you know who Father Dagon is" Jak said chuckling to himself as he did. "I assume he is unarmed. I mean I do not want to start sitting and talking with a man who quite evidently is a complete loon for him to start pulling daggers out at me or Taylor." Jak laughed again, "I think you are quite safe your highness. He may be a few potatoes short of a sack full but he is harmless enough, and besides you'll have young Levin here to keep an eye on you," gesturing to the teenager stood behind them.
Father Dagon slowly walked up to Luken, gazing up at him before slowly walking around looking him up and down, as someone might view a prize cow. "Err what are you doing?" Jak Corley enquired to the old man, "this man is Prince Luken of Corlan, and you do not wander around him as if he is an item for sale!" Luken raised his hand, "it is alright Jak, leave him be," watching as he was circled several more times before the elderly man came to a halt. "It is you," the man said breaking his silence. "I hope so" Luken replied with a smile, "and you are Father Dagon I am led to believe." The man nodded, as he turned to rummage in a leather satchel lying on the ground behind him. Removing a small red book, he proffered it to Luken, "read this boy and it should help you understand your powers." Jak Corley intervened once more, "you do not refer to his highness as boy" showing his irritability at Father Dagons lack of social decorum.
The old man nodded once more, "apologies, I meant no offence." Luken took the small book and quickly flipped through a few pages, "I am not entirely sure who or what you think I am, but let me reassure you, I am no different from anyone else. Now if you will tell this Sandred person to get out of my head and stop putting voices in my sons mind I would be most grateful." Luken took Taylors hand and turned to walk away, "The men, they are already talking of your powers your highness, the way you glowed, the way you burnt that Darekian." Luken stopped in his tracks, turning his head, "I think you have just heard some gossip Father Dagon. A few men witnessed the man burning, and the reflection off the flames must have appeared to lighten my position, giving them the idea I had some kind of godly glow. I assure you if I had any such powers, do you not think I would be using them to help our rather pitiful state of affairs. Now if you would pass my message onto your friend Sandred, I have more important matters to attend." Father Dagon watched as the prince and his small entourage disappeared around the corner from view.
Taylor pulled at his father's hand, "will Sandred not talk to me anymore?" he asked with a hint of disappointment in his voice. Luken stopped and squatted down to talk at eye level, "I think it is probably for the best. I am not sure what magical powers they think I have, but I am quite certain I do not have any. I think they just have the wrong person, there is nothing special about me." He patted his son on the shoulder, noticing the regret in his son's big brown eyes. "I tell you what, why don't we have a read this book of his later on and we can decide together" he added, seemingly appeasing Taylor of his negative attitude to the thought of magic powers. Continuing their way over to the main street and making for a makeshift canopy where his officers were congregating for a meeting.
As he entered the temporary accommodation all the officers stood to attention, "at ease please gentlemen" he said as he made for two chairs placed in the middle of the group. Once he was seated with Taylor beside him, the others sat down on the several benches laid into two rows, and Levin positioned himself off to one side. It was General Skalton who stood to speak first, the mumbles of other conversations silencing as he did. "Your highness" he bowed to Luken first before turning to face the others, "Gentlemen we have to make a decision. We need to find a suitable solution to our predicament. This town has no defensible means, and although we can repel small raiding groups, we would not be able to protect it against a larger number." Luken listened as his General opened up the floor for suggestions from the other officers, as to any solutions they may deem plausible to rectify their current predicament.
A suggestion to build fortifications around part of Forwich was put forward, and although it was not the worst idea in the world, it was rejected on the grounds of, the time and man-hours needed to carry out such a scheme. Not knowing when or even if another invading force would attack they needed something else. Other suggestions involved moving themselves to other towns, some of which did have some degree of defensive capabilities. One such town lay to the south of their current position. Sefton was a smaller town than Forwich had been before its attack. The advantage this location gave was it was built atop a small hill and indeed did have a short wall surrounding most of its perimeter. In fact, it sounded so good many of the men present in the meeting started to like the idea. Luken himself thought it the perfect location for them retreat to, that was until someone stood to speak and put a dampener on the entire idea. Sefton, as good as it was did not have a running water source into the town. The populace apparently had to fetch water from the lake at the bottom of the small hill on which it was sited. Not the place to defend if the enemy was able to cut you off from the one thing they would definitely require.
Luken stood as the men with him broke up into smaller conversations, no nearer a solution to the problem set before them. Standing at the table which had a large map of the land laid out upon it and held down by a number of brass weights around its edge. Taylor, always the inquisitive child picked one of the weights up to inspect it before placing it back, but not around the edge, he put it a few inches in. Luken picked up the same weight to return it to its rightful place, when he noticed the large dot on the map that his son had placed it upon. Alongside the dot was the name of a place of which he had some reasonable knowledge. He knew its defensive capabilities, its water supply and even its history, having read about the place in so many books when he was a child. "Easton" he uttered to himself, "Easton! What about Easton?" he turned raising his voice to be heard by the others. "It is a ruin your majesty" one officer spoke up, "No! The buildings are ruined, the walls still stand, well most of them anyway. Not only that, but they are some forty or fifty feet tall. It has the river running beside it for water. People this place was built with defence in mind, we only left it because the buildings burnt and my grandfather thought it a better idea to move to Hamalin. But that move was meant more to increase trade possibilities because the River Fivan is not suitable for large trade ships."
With his audience all listening he continued, "We rebuild here, we don't just have the walls but the river will give us a line of defen
ce, the only bridge is here" he pointed to the map to a small mark just beside the town's name. "If we need we can destroy the bridge, how I do not yet know. Though I'm sure if we can hold it or bring it down, the enemy cannot reach us, little short of making a few hundred mile detour around the Fivan hills." These were a craggy range of mountains and hills not passable by foot and gave the river its name as well as its source. Luken even felt himself getting enthusiastic about his own idea, "we can rebuild our capital there. I know it does not give us the same trading prospects of Hamalin, but it can give us the protection we need to start again." He looked up expectantly at those around him, to see every set of eyes staring at him, "I agree" Jak Corley shouted, "I'm with the prince as well," voiced another, "as am I" shouted General Skalton.
Captain Jak Corley walked with the prince and Taylor, back towards the buildings in which they were housed. "You spoke well your highness, your father would have been proud if he could have watched you today. It was not just the perfect location but the way you sold it to the others, you showed so much passion." Feeling almost a little embarrassed at the sincerity of the compliment, he was not after all used to receiving them , "well if I am honest it was actually Taylor who put me on to the idea of Easton," he replied looking down at his son, who returned the look with his usual big smile. "Well whoever, I for one would not have thought of it, but the more I listened to you the more I knew it was right for our purpose. In fact it is not just right it is perfect, granted it will require a lot of hard work, and we still have a long way to travel before we get there, but you have given something the people were lacking before." Luken stopped and looked at his old friend, "What is that Jak?" the aging Captain put a friendly hand on the young prince's shoulder, looking him in the eye, "Hope" he said, "The people need hope, and I think you have just given it to them."
