Kingdom Come (Price of Power Book 1)

by Blake Bisciotti

  ***

  The festivities were still going on when Elberon returned to his tent. None of the five other priests he was lodging with had yet returned. He lit incense and sat on his cot. The priest was exhausted from a long day of battle followed by aiding the injured and dying. There was so much running through his mind and everything happened so quickly. The army had set out to eliminate a threat to the people of the three cities of the South Sea, and things had started well. They conquered the nearest enemy city, killed thousands, and sustained surprisingly low losses. This was much in part due to the astonishing assistance of his god, the mighty Phelios.

  This very thought caused him some confusion. He had gone to fight at the orders of his high priest, which was as close of a request from Phelios himself as could be made. Even in committing to go to war, Elberon was not sure it was what he thought was the right course of action. He had seen what Faletonia had done to the dwarves at the Singrin Peaks, but they had so far not directly threatened any of the three cities of the South Sea. This fact ate away at his conscience. Was bringing the sword to the Faletonians truly the will of Phelios? The fact that the sun god had blessed the humans with the Song of Calaris all but confirmed Phelios’s approval. Elberon had to accept it. His god would not have granted this blessing, for the first time in hundreds of years, for a cause with which he did not agree.

  A small prayer statue sat on an end table near his cot. It belonged to one of the other priests. Elberon turned to it and began to pray. He recited one prayer that was a daily supplication and another that was in thanks to his god. He began a prayer of his own intentions but was interrupted by a sound at the tent’s entrance. The flap opened and Elberon was expecting one of the clerics he shared the tent with to enter, but instead he saw a shapely women’s leg step in. Katriel then leaned her head in and smiled at Elberon. “Do you mind if I enter?” She asked.

  “Of course not,” said the surprised priest. Katriel walked into the tent. She too looked exhausted and took a seat on a cot that was set up not too far from Elberon’s. She took a deep breath in enjoying the scent of the incense.

  “You fought well today…impressive,” the priestess of Aya said with a smirk.

  “Thank you, I’m glad you were able to notice.” He replied with a hint of sarcasm.

  “That was not your first battle then?”

  “No, it was, at least of that scale,” replied Elberon. He had battled orcs a few times while traveling with Ostinus to the Singrin Peaks and also been in altercations within the city against brutes and ruffians, but nothing like the large-scale battle he was just in.

  “Me too. That’s because it was the only battle of that size in our lifetime.” Katriel’s remark was true. Never before had there been a battle near the cities of the South Sea that was as epic as the one they had fought earlier that day. Since immigrants fleeing the famine stricken Sadic Empire north of the plains founded the three cities over three hundred years ago, no city had asked its men to fight together against a common foe.

  “Its all so crazy, it is still unsettling to me.” Elberon fixed his gaze on Katriel. Her hair was in a ponytail and looked unclean, however she was still stunning. Staring at her made him think of his lady back in Lunemire, Esrella Meyor. But the thought of her did not linger long. The priestess was gorgeous. Elberon tried his hardest to not look at her enticing legs, which were crossed and exposed through the slit in her tight blue dress.

  “I’ve never seen anything like the Song of Calaris. The strength of Phelios was observed and felt by all. You must take some comfort in at least knowing that your god supports the cause with conviction.” As she spoke her gaze fell over the prayer statue.

  Elberon shot her a surprised look and said, “You sound as if you do not think Aya wills this?”

  “No, when I was asked by my high priest to serve, I knew then that Aya supported”. The priestess sounded sincere. “I can only wonder what is ahead of us. Rumor has already spread throughout the camp that a large army is approaching. We were fortunate to win this battle rather convincingly. What will we do if drastically outnumbered?”

  The tent went quiet for a short time. Elberon broke the silence, “I suppose we would inevitably find out some day if the army marched for our homes. I suppose we may be fortunate because we are likely better prepared here then at the last resort of the walls of our cities…where there are children and elderly. Hopefully, if there is an army, it does head towards us rather than directly to our homes. All we can do now, is pray that our gods restore our spells and hope our leaders have a plan.” He looked back to the statue beside him.

  Katriel nodded and then moved over to sit near Elberon on his cot. She crossed her legs as she sat and said, “Tell me about you Elberon, tell me more about yourself.” When the priest looked at her, she stared deeply at him and smiled. Her expression was gentle and inviting. Elberon was at first shocked at the visit, but now felt surprisingly comfortable.

  “Well, what is it you want to know?”

  “Tell me the story of Elberon, from a small lad till now.”

  “Why do you care?” He was surprised he even asked such a question.

  “Can I not be curious?” A subtle smile on her face relaxed him again.

  “Ok,” he ran his hand through his blonde beard, which was growing unkempt. “I’ll keep it brief.”

  She nodded.

  “I was born and raised in Rogsnelk. My family, like nearly all people who reside in these cities south of the plains, were originally refugees from the Sadic Empire a few hundred years ago. I was born into a farming family and was educated at home till I was eight or so.” He paused and looked at Katriel, who was still eying him intently. “I apologize, perhaps I should speed this up?”

  “No, no, please continue,” she said, placing her hand briefly on his knee but not aggressively.

  “My father was and is a hardworking man. A farmer. His father before him was a farmer as well. He has always been a devout follower of Phelios.”

  “As many farmers are.” The priestess interjected.

  “Yes. I too always felt a certain attraction to the sun god. I used to work in the field and be amazed by the sun’s power, but after a while it felt like it might be a different, stronger appreciation. When it became clear to my folks that I had this calling, they arranged for me to meet a priest at the temple. I was accepted to continue my education at the temple and my parents allowed it, considering it a blessing form Phelios.”

  “Who was the priest?”

  “It was Bjourn Amayus. Do you know him?”

  “Actually I have heard his name before, he is an elderly priest is he not?”

  “Why yes, he is. He is…” Elberon looked up in thought “Eighty three now.”

  “Amazing, bless him.”

  “Wait, are you too from Rogsnelk?” Asked the priest.

  “Yes, but I will tell my story when you are done with yours. Continue.”

  “Well, after that I studied and worked towards ordainment, which happened about five years ago. Other than that, there is not much to say. I now live in Lunemire, where I was relocated to serve. When I don’t serve at the temple, I make my living as a merchant between Lunemire and the Singrin Peaks, along with my friend Ostinus.”

  Katriel shot Elberon an interested look. “Dwarves? An interesting lot, although I can hardly say so much, as I’ve only met one in my life.”

  “And what about you? What is your tale?”

  The priestess of Aya perked up and began, “I was born to an affluent family in Rogsnelk. My father was actually a captain on a ship and my mother was the daughter of a wealthy ship builder.”

  “Trable?” asked Elberon referring to one of the two main shipbuilding families of Rogsnelk.

  “No, Obishod.” She said, which was the other family. Both were very prestige names in the city. The families were very wealthy.

  Elberon’s jaw dropped wide in surprise. “Wow, an Obishod daughter fighting in war, this is peculia
r indeed. Sorry, please continue”. As the priestess was about to begin, the tent opened and the five other priests entered chatting amongst each other. They all stopped to consider the priest and priestess, who were sitting close on the cot.

  “Oh Katriel….um, we can come back,” said one of the priest’s who was acquainted with the woman from back in Rogsnelk.

  “No, no, gentlemen please. I was just leaving. Brother Elberon and I had a wonderful conversation. We must all get rest, we must be up very early tomorrow to endeavor whatever is in store for us.” With that she rose and turned and looked at Elberon, “good night, pleasure speaking with you.”

  He didn’t know how to reply. Part of him wanted to insist she stay and finish her story and chat more. Another part of him wanted to walk her to her tent.

  “The pleasure was all mine, good night Katriel.”

  She then left and Elberon went to bed, thinking pleasantly of his unexpected conversation. He then thought of Esrella Meyor and wondered what her night was like and what she would do the following day back in Lunemire…and he wondered if she was safe.

  ***

  Three men made their way into their tent. After changing into their clothing for sleep they sat on their cots. One of the men walked a few paces to the entrance flap of the tent and lifted it. He stuck his head outside and looked from left to right. No one could be seen in the darkness; however, near a tent in the distance, some men could be heard speaking loudly. They were far enough away that they weren’t a bother. The man ducked his head back in the tent and closed the flap.

  “Did you grab it?” An older man asked.

  “Indeed.” Another man replied. He then pulled a bottle of wine from under his folded cloak. It was sealed with a cork.

  “Excellent, take a swig and pass it.” The third man said. The man with the bottle removed the cork.

  “Wait, I have cups.” The old man reached behind his cot and grabbed three cups and then distributed them to the other two wizards of the Crimson Fox. The man with the wine filled each cup.

  “Today was an interesting day.”

  “Indeed. But it was great to finally use my spells productively. Did you see how I blasted that beast’s chest open with that lightning bolt? Boom!” The man holding the wine bottle tapped the wine glass he held in his other hand against the bottle as if to illustrate. Some of its contents spilled on his lap.

  One of the other mages replied, “Yes, we deserve a lot of credit for the victory. They would have been fucked facing those giants.”

  The third man pulled out a pipe and lit it. “By credit do you mean gold. There is another army marching this way, likely with more giants. You will need more lightning bolts.” He puffed the pipe, closed his eyes and then exhaled.

  “I don’t know how you smoke that shit. How can you think straight and… by the gods that smells strong.”

  “It is, but it relaxes me.” He smiled out of the corner of his mouth on the opposite side of the pipe.

  The mage with the bottle filled his cup further and said, “How did we get stuck with this shit job. We may die out here. I’m surprised The Grand and Rez allowed us to go.” He further filled the cup of older wizard.

  “Like all things it was strategic. They know what they’re doing. The cities, the councils and Victus will all be very much in the debt of the Crimson Fox when this is all over. Rumor has it that The Grand is planning to increase our strength in the three cities…and magic will play a huge roll. Our cohort of mages is stronger than it has been in several generations.” He fanned his face as another cloud of potent smoke came his way. “We will prosper.”

  “Its about time. We run deep in the veins of each city, yet I feel like we purposely remain in the background. It is as if the chaos that Faletonia has hatched was perfectly timed. The officers of this army must have been shocked to see the strength of our magic.” The wizard’s words were muffled while the pipe hung from his mouth, secured in his teeth. “Now that all of these men have seen our power, we should return home to gold in our coffers and girls on our cocks.” The men all laughed and sipped their wine.

  There was a moment of silence until the elder man said, “Trust in The Grand. There could be no better more cunning person to lead the Crimson Fox. He always has a plan. And if we are part of his plan, than let’s just see it through. Soon we could see the council’s bending the knee to our will. They’re already deep enough in our pockets.”

  “Indeed.”

  ***

  The horns sounded at the crack of dawn. The party the previous night was wild; however the officers of the army did well at making sure it ended early and did not get too out of hand. Needless to say, there were still those who woke and regretted having too much wine. The moods of any sluggish soldiers changed quickly when they heard the grave tone of their commanders’ voices. They were giving orders in earnest and getting everyone up and moving. So assertive were their orders that many soldiers worried that an attack was imminent. This was not the case. Victus and his leaders had been up for over an hour already and knew exactly where the oncoming army was and were updated often on its pace and location by their scouts.

  Before the horns were blown to wake the army, The Captain and several top commanders were in the command tent formulating a plan for the eventual confrontation with the large Faletonian force headed their way. In the center of the room on a table was a large map of the land extending north to the plains, south to the South Sea, west to the mountains by the Salty Sea and east beyond the Lirrorwick Forest to the coast and island cities of Ischiod. Carved wooden pieces were used as place marks for the Faletonian cites and the three southern cities as well as for the opposing army.

  All present were concerned with the reported size of the army that was coming. By each account it was two to three times as large as the human army. There were also supposedly at least eight giants and several ogres. Victus and his men knew they could not win in the open field, even with the divine help of the priests and the spells of the mages. To make matters worse, the Faletonian force had a divine group of their own. Scouts had reported seeing orcish shamans with the advancing army. While a couple of shamans were killed in the attack on Southland, they had played a very small role in the defense; however a large contingent of the followers of the orc god, Zatelboz, could complicate things further.

  The commanders in the room with Victus Antonel were Ryon Ludlow and Bayloff, both of Rogsnelk, and Orvious and Dougard of Abellard. They all stood around the large map, staring at it as if it was a chessboard and it was their turn at a pivotal point in the game.

  “Are you sure Abellard will not offer more troops?” Victus asked the two men, but never took his eyes from the map.

  “We have sent riders back to the city to inform the council of our situation, but I am nearly certain that no more men will be sent.” Orvious replied. “Most of our men are here. The city now has less than a thousand men present to defend it. The council would not risk having less, and nor would I.”

  “Fair enough, Abellard has supported our cause well. I fear the response from Rogsnelk will be the same. I pleaded for more men when I left the city, but the council reminded me that I was fortunate to receive the men they granted in the first place. If only we had more.” The Captain’s eyes slowly moved down the map to look at the mark representing his city, Rogsnelk. Then his gaze turned to Lunemire. “The key is Lunemire. They have hardly sent any men. In fact, they’ve sent no one. Those who came were brave men seeking a fight on their own. Lunemire must have north of six thousand able bodied men who can fight. With half that amount we can defeat this vile hoard that marches our way and deal a blow to the Faletonian’s that will have them abandoning their other strongholds.”

  “The riders were sent to Lunemire hours ago, we expect their return late in the afternoon, may the gods give them speed.” Said Ryon Ludlow. “Would the council of Lunemire just let us perish?”

  Victus looked up from the map in the direction of his commander.
“In preservation of their city, yes they would. Lunemire is the strongest of our three cities. It would take an army far greater than Faletonia’s to defeat them behind their own city walls. But this is likely only true with their army fully intact. If they send men, they risk greatly weakening the cities impregnable defenses.” He paused and looked at the other men. “When we win this battle, we will be sure to emphasize the bravery and courage of our cities in preserving the safety and peace of our lands. Our names will be famous, songs will honor our deeds and children will play as us in fantasy battles.” The Captain stood straight and looked at the men. “Not to mention that every lady across the cities will be begging to lie with us.” He smiled widely, “not that it matters for me”. With that the men all laughed.

  “And the dwarves?” Victus eventually asked.

  “A rider has been sent to the Singrin Peaks. We shall await his return,” responded Dougard.

  The Captain pointed a finger to the mountain range that was home to the dwarven nation. “They’ve got their own problems over there. And even if they didn’t, would we really expect dwarves to leave their mountain and march in the open land for the sake of humans?”

  “The situation seems dire then,” said Dougard, a hint of doubt in his voice. Victus stopped leaning over the map and stood straight.

  “Yes, within this tent I’ll admit it does. I don’t think any of us properly estimated the size of Faletonia. How could we have taken their city, killing thousands and still be faced with an army of five thousand orcs and goblins. I am astonished by the unification they’ve created. Over the long run, I don’t think it lasts, the creatures are simply too volatile…but it is the long run we set out to prevent from happening.”

  “Not just orcs, the fact that there are giants and ogres is perplexing” Ryon interjected, but understood he shouldn’t have by the look he received in response from Victus.