Kingdom Come (Price of Power Book 1)

by Blake Bisciotti

  “Hello sir. Can we help you?” Asked the mistress in a less seductive voice than normal. Unfortunately, just as she finished her question, a loud moan erupted from a room somewhere in the building. The mistress tried to feign as if she did not hear it, but the guards’ heads turned at the sound.

  “We have been receiving complaints about this place. Whose business is this?”

  “Business? This is just a living quarters for a few and a place to stay for weary travelers…although those have been less since the war has begun.”

  “Do not play coy with me woman,” said the guard as he removed his helmet. The woman did not recognize him. Some of the guards were customers of the establishment, good customers, but she did not recall seeing this particular man and it worried her. She became nervous but would not panic. Years of challenging life had hardened her.

  “So who lives here, where are all the residents and where is the building owner?” The guard inquired.

  Ardius grimaced. “You son of a bitch,” he thought to himself. He couldn’t stand the city guards. Half of the time they acted at the request of the council, who acted crookedly, and the other half the time they just wanted a hand out to keep quiet…or a free hour with the girls.

  “Well I live here…and so does she.” The mistress pointed to one of the four other scantily clad girls in the room, which was furnished with a couple of couches and two small beds. Two of the women stood together beside a bed, one was on a couch, and the other stood near a hallway that lead to a corridor with rooms where ‘business’ was conducted.

  The guard who was speaking turned to the other guard, who remained silent. As he turned back and was about to speak a woman entered from the hallway. At first she did not know what was happening but she could see a warning in the mistress’s eyes. She had on a white tank top that squished her large breasts and shorts that exposed the bottom of her butt cheeks. Once she saw the guards by the door the young woman halted.

  “Eugene!” She shrieked with excessive delight and then pranced quickly up to the guard. “You’re early.” She caressed his face and moved her hands down over his chest.

  “Hey doll,” replied the guard as he put his hands, still in thick leather gloves, around her body and down over her buttocks. A collective sigh of relief went out in the room. “I brought a friend, he’s never been here before…to be honest, I’m not sure he’s ever felt a woman’s touch,” he said with a joking smirk towards his friend. The situation had diffused instantly and the girls in the room swarmed the second man.

  “Fuck off.” Ardius thought to himself. The guard named Eugene had no intention of causing problems; he was just giving them a hard time for fun. He was probably just another city guard on a power trip. Ardius sat down and rubbed his bald head. With his recent successes had come additional stress. On the desk in front of him was a chalice with only a splash of wine inside. After filling it from a decanter nearby he took a big sip, sat back down and pulled the sacks of coins from the desk drawer.

  Another knock was heard on the front door followed by another creek as it opened. Two girls greeted someone with a “hello” together in a seductive voice. This couldn’t be a problem.

  “Is the big man in the back room?” Asked a familiar voice. Ardius rolled his eyes.

  “Yes, but why don’t we see what is in another room?” One of the girls asked with a giggle.

  “Perhaps soon love, I won’t forget you suggested it.” As he finished the sentence Pleshil walked to the curtain, his steps making no sounds at all, as if he walked on air. He pulled the curtain aside and entered the side room. “Ardius, how are you?”

  “Well, I suppose.” He hated that Pleshil felt he could just barge on in. He hated more that he had to deal with it.

  “Great…great.” Pleshil said unconvincingly.

  “I thought I was meant to bring you The Grand’s sum tonight.” Ardius stated as he slid the pouch forward that had his boss’s share in it.

  “You were...but something has come up.”

  He angled his bald head slightly as he gave Pleshil a look mostly of curiosity, but with a bit of concern evident.

  “The Grand has had his eye on you for a few months now…and you’ve impressed him with your leadership. He appreciates your careful ways, and your business prowess.” Pleshil shook his head slightly, “I don’t quite see what is so special…but anyway. He wishes to meet with you to discuss a new task.”

  Ardius began rubbing his head and said, “Task? What task? The Grand wants to meet with me?”

  “Yes and he wants to see you now. He will explain all to you, let us go…he is not a man to keep waiting. Bring his coins.”

  Pleshil stood giving him a look that said, “move your ass.” Ardius glanced down at the chest that was locked and half filled with coin. He wished Pleshil would leave, but knew he would not. The chest could not be left out in the open. He picked it up and carried it to a corner of the room. After placing the chest down, he lifted a floorboard that did not even look loose. Underneath was a cubby into which he dropped the chest and slid the board back on top to cover.

  Ardius then grabbed the two sacks of coins, stuffed them into pockets in his shirt and lead Pleshil out of the building. It was late in the afternoon and the air was cool. They walked down some side streets, chatting along the way. After fifteen minutes of walking Ardius started to wonder where he was being taken. The buildings around them began to turn into larger residential spaces. They were entering the south east section of Rogsnelk, an upper middle class area. He knew the area well, but found it to be an odd place to be going. Was he being taken to the actual home of The Grand? He had only met the leader of the Crimson Fox less than half a dozen times and it was mostly quick business or high-level meetings with other officers.

  They stopped at an ordinary looking house. In front was a wooden fence with a small door. The house looked weathered with dark brown wooden siding and dark green window shutters, but was still rather nice. There were several plants on a small front porch. Candlelight could be seen through the window of an upstairs room.

  Pleshil opened the gate and held out his arm for Ardius to enter. As the two men got half way down the path to the house, a torch on the front porch mysteriously lit. Ardius shot Pleshil a glance and began to feel nervous about what was going on. Pleshil reached for the doorknob but then stopped.

  “Don’t let this place get to you, you’ll understand it soon.”

  This comment only added to his nervousness. Finally Pleshil opened the door and Ardius peered inside. It was quiet and plain looking, the type of house elderly people who had once made a decent living for themselves would have. Pleshil walked in first so Ardius followed. Just ahead of the two in the front room to the right was a staircase leading up to the next floor. Past the stairs on the left was an archway to another room. Beads hung as a curtain and prevented a view through to the room behind. A doorway to the left led to a living room. Immediately to the right was a kitchen where a small flame was lit under a pot, but with on one to tending to it.

  Ardius looked back at Pleshil, who smiled. His look was somehow comforting with his dark brown eyes sparkling and his raven black hair in a tight ponytail. But trusting the appearance of an experienced Crimson Fox member was a fool’s game. Many men throughout the years had done so only moments before being murdered.

  “This way,” said Pleshil and he walked straight ahead towards the beads. He parted them in the middle with his hands and entered. Cautious Ardius followed. This was a den type room with many books in it. He noted many were history books and stories of ancient battles and civilizations. Pleshil went right to the back of the room where there was another door. He opened it and there was a dark stairwell headed down. Without looking towards Ardius, he descended the stairs. Ardius let out a sigh and went down as well.

  At the bottom of the stairs was a small square space big enough to fit four people at most. One wall had yet another door.

  “The Grand will meet w
ith you inside. Ardius, when you enter you will not understand what is happening. Take a second to take it all in and do not fear it.” Pleshil smirked and put his hand on the doorknob.

  “Hold on.” Ardius said as he put his hand on his head. “What are we…” But he was not able to ask any questions as Pleshil quickly threw the door open. His jaw dropped and he was overcome by awe. He hardly had control over his body as he took a few steps into the room and looked around in absolute astonishment.

  ***

  The sounds of hammers striking metal and stone filled the air. Rain poured down from the grey skies as Victus stood by and watched his men working on a blockade that would cover the entrance to the city. “We can put a few more stakes on this corner to further secure it” said a man who was on a scaffold near the makeshift gate.

  “Bring the nails to him,” ordered Victus and some men nearby gathered up more metal stakes to bring to the carpenter. The area around the mouth of the entrance of the city, within the walls, was beginning to get muddy because of the soldiers treading back and forth in the rain. There were men of many professions in the army and they all played a role in the last few days. Smiths repaired armor and created weapons, cooks prepared meals, masons worked on the wall and the gate, fletchers made bows and arrows. There were surprisingly many resources in the city for them to use.

  The army was fortunate because the Faletonian force was taking longer than expected for unknown reasons. This allowed the men to strengthen their fortifications. Not only did they build the barricade outside of the city’s entrance, they actually had enough time to construct another gate. It was not a solid structure, but it would serve its purpose. They would need all the help they could get since they were going to be outnumbered quite drastically.

  “Still no word from the dwarves?” Victus called up to Bayloff who was on the wall top.

  “None,” Bayloff responded. Victus cursed under his breath, although he knew they were not coming. He began to wonder if the rider he had sent had abandoned his cause and would not return.

  The Captain had made some free time to walk about the city in the early morning. He was very intrigued by the dwellings of his enemy. Never had he thought that orcs would live in such a civilized society with shops, houses, barracks, pubs, and even religious buildings. Victus inspected residences, training facilities and commercial facilities. Things did not seem quite so different than their own cities. He spent the longest time in a simple home that was likely the settlement of a family of orcs. Many of the belongings must have been taken when the inhabitants left, but he found cooking materials and beds of different sizes left behind. On one of the beds he found a small doll. Eyes, a nose, and mouth were stitched into its face. The Captain noted that, from the bottom lip, two tusks were stitched. On a smaller bed there was a rattle that must have belonged to a baby. It made him think of Eugello, which left him with conflicted emotions.

  Nevertheless The Captain did not have much time to dwell on his curiosity. There was work to be done and he would be present for much for the construction.

  “Bring more beams as well,” instructed The Captain. Rain poured down his face as he pointed towards the wood. He watched his men working hard. The barricade outside of the gate was done, but they added more to it since they had more time. “Be sure to spike as much as we can into the ground…and deep. We need these blockades to be secure… and put some beams behind the makeshift gate if there are any free.” As he finished his order, a guard screamed from the top of the wall.

  “Sir! Drums!”

  The hammering stopped. Everyone went completely still and listened as intently as possible. At first Victus heard nothing, but then he noticed it. It was faint and distant, but it was unmistakable. The melodic beat of drums came from further than the eye could see. Victus ran to a stairwell and climbed to the top of the wall where Bayloff stood scouring the distance. He scanned the horizon but could see nothing. Everyone just continued to listen, motionless.

  Finally, in the distance, something came into view. It grew like a dark fog over the land and the drums beat louder and louder. Each man on the wall looked on through the rain with a stern expression on his face. First the massive frames of the giants could be seen. Then the much smaller figures of orcs and goblins formed a vast body of soldiers in the distance. More and more orcs seemed to fill the landscape outside of the city. The bulk of the force gathered in the valley between two hills; however there were so many troops that some were positioned up the slopes of the hills. The Faletonian army had arrived to attack, and it was a formidable force indeed.

  “To your positions!” Yelled Victus. Most men were near where they were meant to be but there was some scrambling within the city amongst soldiers. Officers barked orders and all the men quickly settled into their positions. Victus paced the wall and looked at the troops near him. They stared out at the oncoming army. Bows and weapons were in hand. “Will the arrows light, will the oil on the field ignite?” Victus asked in calm voice to a soldier near him. It was a valid question with the amount of rain that had already come down. The drums beat on.

  “Yes sir, the oil is far more potent than the water. It would have to be incredibly watered down for it to not light.” As the soldier said that he went under a small tarp that arced over the wall. There were several such covers positioned around the rampart. They were to be used to allow men to spark flint underneath and then light small torches that were also kept under the tarps to remain dry. These torches would then be put into small buckets of oil, which would ignite. The soldier was correct; the rain would not put out the torches...at least not immediately. They would have enough time to light special ignitable tipped arrows from the torches or buckets and shoot them into the oil soaked land below with the intention of burning the unsuspecting invaders alive at the city’s entrance. The area covered with oil outside the wall was rather large, and would create a small field of fire.

  Some of the officers of Victus’s army were concerned that the Faletonians would see the oil saturated ground and alter their attack, even with dirt and grass was scattered over it. The rain actually helped disguise the oil soaked pitch. Now the enemy hopefully would not know the difference between mud and oil.

  Victus walked atop the wall. He turned and stared out at the impending doom for a long moment and then continued his pace. The pounding of the drums continued. They must have been huge instruments, made of stretched goatskin. “Men!” he screamed getting the attention of all those near him. “First we took this city and now we are called to defend it. The enemy, back against the wall, has sent the best they have to reclaim what is now ours. We over estimated them when we conquered this city, let us not underestimate them now. Let’s rip their confidence from their very being as they push to take back their city and get repelled again and again by our warriors!” A cheer went up on top of the wall and down below by those who could hear their leader. It was a welcome noise amongst the drums. “We will not get the help of the gods as we fortunately did in our attack. There will be no mystical hymn this time. But we don’t need it. We just need you,” he was waiving to the all the soldiers near him but then pointed to a soldiers at random “and you and you and you…all of you. We have our skill and our resolve, our camaraderie and our will. Because of this, my great men, we are unbreakable.” His lips spread, exposing his teeth as he pushed his jaw forward. “Defend these walls now, men, with everything you have… for now they are our walls and now this is our city! Unto our honor!” The Captain raised his shield and sword into the air. Rain dripped down the sharp features of his face. The look in his blue eyes could be confused with madness.

  “Unto our honor!” Yelled the soldiers nearby and they raised their weapons. Victus ran to the stairs and descended. He would not be with the archers, priests and two mages on top of the wall. He would be on his horse with the main force on the ground. As many archers as could be fit lined the top of the ramparts. There were also archers on the ground that would let loose arro
w after arrow over the wall to rain on the enemy. It was inevitable that the Faletonians would get in but, when they did, they would be met with fierce resistance by the ground forces of the humans. Victus and his army had to try and keep them out as long as they could since they were far too outnumbered to last for long on the ground in the city.

  The clerics were scattered through the army. Some were on the wall but most were within the ranks of the ground forces. They would heal wounded soldiers, enchant others with strength, armor and speed, and also cast offensive spells at the attackers as they had during the invasion. Victus was measured with his planning for the mages. Their power became very obvious after the last battle. They would have to deal with the giants as the behemoths attacked. Two of the magic users were positioned on the walls and one remained on the ground.

  As Victus hopped on his horse, he trotted back and forth and gave a similar short speech throughout the ranks to those who had not been able to hear earlier. The men looked at him with hope. He was their leader and had to give them courage. After some rally shouts he took his position towards the front ranks and looked up to his men on top of the wall. The rain soaked his face and armor as he looked on. Orvious, leader of the Abellard forces, was positioned on the wall nearest the enemy. He would relay the enemy’s position and movements down to his leader. Ryon Ludlow and Bayloff were beside Victus. It was a waiting game now, waiting on the enemy to make their move. The sound of the drums continued as if a prelude to the danger that would come.

  Twenty minutes went by and it felt like an eternity for each man in Southland. They waited for action from their enemy while listening to the merciless drums. The rain continued to beat down, but no attack came. An hour passed and Victus walked back up to the top of the wall. He looked out with his hands on his hips and his white cape dangling behind him. The Faletonians were several hundred yards away and setting up camp. No one on the wall could see exactly what the attackers were doing, but some tents could be seen going up.