by D C Ware
The more he thought on this the more determined he was to get to the truth of the rumors of the king’s death. Because if he was dead then Maverick might never know the truth of any of these things; but if he was not dead, then king or not, he had a lot of explaining to do.
CHAPTER TWELVE
First Blood
Heymann could not see Horatio from his vantage point at this bend in the ridge line. But he knew The Second Knight would emerge from the cover of the Infested Mountains within the next hour.
He did not fear Horatio. He did not fear any of the Bane Knights. But he also did not like being told to sacrifice himself and his men as ‘a favor’ to a woman he was not even sure was royalty.
But Morcai had charged him harshly before he left on this quest to ‘tend to the Lady and fulfill her bidding to the utmost’. That told Heymann all he needed to know. That she was important. It did not tell him ‘why’ she was important but that was of no consequence to him. He was a knight. The embodiment of his lord’s will and purpose and if The Lady was that important to Morcai then Heymann would obey her as he would his master.
Even still Heymann could not conceive that Morcai knew that she would waste him so. At least he refused to believe that Morcai could have known. How he wished that he had some word from Morcai. Even at this distance Heymann knew Morcai had ways of conversing with him if he chose. He had witnessed his master doing so on many occasions but each had weakened him severely and Heymann doubted that Morcai would expend such strength to check in with him. Still Morcai should know of his fate if he were to fall. There was still the matter of The Ferret and The Third Knight Swift. Heymann intended to head off Swift after delivering The Lady to Fire Castle. Now it seemed he would have to settle for The Second Knight - Young Horatio.
Horatio was the youngest of the three permanent Bane Knights. Heymann had never met him personally but they had communicated through dispatches when Heymann held Warrior’s Bane. Unlike most knights Horatio was largely considered to have purchased his knighthood. He was not even originally from the continent of the Overland. Instead he hailed from The Continent of Men and was said to be the nephew of the King of Monet. All of the men of Monet were infamous for their good looks, wealth and fine attire; and Horatio was no exception. Even after obtaining his knighthood he hardly ever wore his full armor. Instead preferring the fancy cavalier outfit of a Monetian Musketeer. He even fought Musketeer style with a fencing sword and long knife.
Of course that was not to say that Horatio could not fight. Indeed he was an able swordsman. One of the best in the kingdom for sure. He fought in what was called ‘fencing’ style and relied on quick and accurate thrusts and strikes to either disable and then kill an opponent or disarm and kill him. Heymann had once seen Horatio kill three men at once with three successive steps and then thrusts.
Still if he was given a choice he would rather fight Horatio than Swift. Horatio was a swordsman but Swift was a warrior. Swift knew not only how to kill with a sword, he could kill with any weapon and quickly at that. Whereas Horatio was inclined to show off if given the chance, Swift would kill you quick without hesitation.
“They approach, my lord!” Dubois startled Heymann out of his reflections.
“Very good Dubois. How many?”
“Three knights and twenty five men at arms.”
Heymann, who was mounted with his back toward Dubois, turned his horse and faced his lieutenant.
“Two knights and twenty five men? Are you sure Dubois?”
“Even so my captain. I counted them myself when they came into view.”
“Then Horatio has split his forces. Three of his knights and twenty five men are missing.”
“Not exactly my captain. The Second Knight no longer leads them.” Sir Dubois said matter of factly.
“Horatio has returned to Rebel’s Bane then?” Heymann replied. “Of course, he is passing The Lady off.”
“Passing her off my captain?”
“Yes Dubois. The Bane Forts exist in a ring around the Overland. Each knight that man’s one has a certain jurisdiction. The area in between where one knight’s jurisdiction ends and the other begins is called the ‘pass off’. Usually half of one knight’s muster will meet half of the other knight’s muster to complete the pass off.”
“I see, so there is only ever a short time when they are less than a full muster?”
“Exactly Dubois, but it is during that time that one or both musters are most vulnerable. Horatio must be seeking to make the pass off while he is still concealed by the mountains so The Lady would not have known that he split his force. But we have beat the muster from Heroes Bane here and they don’t know it. How many men are we Dubois?”
“Fifteen men at arms, three knights and you my lord.”
“Still bad odds but a far better bet than trying to take on Horatio and his whole muster. We must strike now Dubois! Signal the men to mount up. Signal them to attack! Attack!”
Vandrel’s trip to Elf Mountain had been an arduous one. He was not dressed appropriately for travel and the weather in the Overland was starting to turn cold. The worst part however was the trek up Yeti Mountain across to Elf Mountain.
Elf Mountain being the name of both the mountain itself as well the citadel of the Elven King that sat high atop its peaks. The humans had named the region Elf Mountain after the Crimson Wars when the Elves that had come to Overland from the Kingdom of Lyss made it their home.
The Elves had never named the mountain but they called the castle “Celestra” which was elvish for ‘distant refuge’.
Vandrel entered the gates of Celestra without note as the castle gates usually remained open to accommodate travelers and traders. There was not much activity in the castle square as Elf Mountain was one of the more remote domains in the kingdom. Most of the visitors were elves and ironically Dwarves, who despite their enmity with the elves had no problem with trading with them.
The men of Futuretown were the second most prominent visitors to be seen in Celestra as it was commonly assumed that all of that city’s advancements had merely been stolen from the Elves. Something that was actually not true. In fact, the Elves of Lyss and the men of Futuretown shared their work with each other and often tested or copied each other’s technology to improve upon it.
Vandrel missed those days. Those days when his time was also filled with travels and study, research and trading. The days before the doom befell him that would forever task him as the Guardian of the Ring.
In those days he was known as Abercrombie and he taught at the School of Science and Magics in the great Kingdom of Pearl on the Continent of Men. The degree of learning in Pearl exceeded that in Futuretown like the wisdom in Atlantis exceeded that in ancient Greece.
While teaching at the School of Science and Magic, he heard many rumors about the peculiar experiments and quaky devices being made in Futuretown on the continent that bore the same name of their world, The Overland.
It was by mere chance that an ambassador on his way to see the High King of Overland (because they had clans back then) invited Abercrombie to join him. Anxious to see the curious creations of Futuretown he had agreed to come and was given passage aboard the ship.
Their arrival in Overland however came at a precipitous time as a new war was raging and there was talk of ‘weapons of power’ being discovered. It was the talk of these weapons and of “the so called resurrection ring” that had diverted Abercrombie from his original goal of seeing Futuretown and sent him to the south to that area now called the Darkmen’s Domain to seek out the ring.
Through great trial and tribulation and after many lives lost Abercrombie found the ring. Lives of good friends and faithful mates like the ambassador that brought him to The Overland. The ambassador who had forced the Captain of the ship he was on ‘the Calypso’ to sail down to where Abercrombie was being held and free him from the stronghold of the dread pirate Barnabus. A freedom preceded by great loss on the part of the Captain and his cre
w. Great loss.
Vandrel did not like remembering those times. But in the end he found the ring. And it was worth it all.
He found it there inside the Oracle of the One inside an ossuary. Yet like himself now, even then it had a Guardian. A lady of great beauty and great brightness. He fought with her for she said He could not take the ring unless He could get past her first. But she overcame him. And he died. Then in a place of shadow and great power she placed the ring upon his finger and he was alive again. He was alive and he was ‘Vandrel’ - the Vanguard! The first of the great guardians of the Five Weapons of Power.
Weapons of Power that had come into this land to foreshadow a king who would come. He has existed as that vanguard ever since. In time the war - The Crimson War - as it was called consumed all, even that land where these great weapons of power were born, and as word of their existence and whereabouts spread during the war every great power in that war (and many who were not part of the war) came to that land to claim them and the battles that ensued were frightful and dire. Battles that consumed not only men but the land itself.
Finally, when the evil warlord Saladin Malice could not conquer the forces arrayed against him he had his lieutenant, Morcai, smite the land with an everlasting curse. A curse of darkness and blight before retreating to his broken castle. Never again would that land know day. But even in the midst of the curse and in the very depth of the blight, a light arose. The Oracle of Light. And in that light was The Lady. The Lady who had overcome him only to anoint him Guardian of the very ring of power he had sought to steal.
There were many who hoped she was a goddess despite their faith in The One. But she has shown many times over that she is no goddess or angel. She has shown that she weeps and she bleeds and she dies. It is without question that she was the first to have been blessed with new life by the ring, or one of the first. It is also without question that she is one of its guardians. But not merely a guardian of one of the weapons of power; but he believed rather, a guardian of The Oracle of Light from which all those great weapons draw their power.
And that is why he had to go to Celestra and see the King of Elves. It had been many seasons since she last strode forth from that dark domain and even then only for a short distance and a brief time. But now if she was truly heading for King’s Castle, did she bear an omen of the coming of the one True King. Or does she bear death?
Sir Ebros approached Swift who was standing alone by a brook. The knight had just washed his tunic and was wringing it out. They had been moving up and down, left and right sweeping areas of the forest for three days with no sign of the Ranger his Lord Knight was seeking.
Sir Ebros was concerned that they were off quest. The last town that they had left news of the King’s death was Wooddam. Before that they had entered Milestill and Zafton which meant they still had to reach Futuretown and then the citadels of Dwarfhaven, Elf Mountain and Morsh Monastery.
“Sir still no sign of this Ranger. Do you think it wise to continue this search at the cost of our quest?”
Swift slipped his shirt back upon his back and bent down and started lifting his armor as he spoke.
“Finding The Ferret is part of the quest Ebros. I fear if The Ferret succeeds at whatever task Morcai has set him to all the rest of the quest will be for naught.”
“Truly lord. You said the First Knight’s instructions to you were clear. Spread the news of the king’s death and prepare your muster at Warriors Bane.”
“I do not need you to remind me of my duty Sir Ebros!” Swift stopped assembling his armor and put his finger in the young knight’s face.
“I am the Third Knight of the realm - not you! And as such I am charged with far more than ‘completing quests’ noble knight. I am charged with the very safety of the realm and the life of the king. Whoever that may be!”
“I did not mean to exceed my station my Lord Swift. I merely was suggesting that the completion of the quest was within reach and after attaining it we might still head off this assassin. That and. . .” Sir Ebros paused and looked down, then continued
“. . .this is my first quest and I had hoped not to fail my first quest my lord.”
Swift put his finger down. Paused and covered his head and face with both his hands.
“Ah Ebros, I am sorry. It has been a long time since I undertook my first quest and I had almost forgot the urgency of it and the damage to your reputation as a knight if you fail. Dammit!” Swift started pacing with his hands on his hips.
“Sir, might I recommend that we split up. I could continue on to the remaining towns with the rumors and you could pursue The Ferret. After which I would come to you where you are at or at Warriors Bane.”
“No Ebros. If that were possible I would have done that straightway when we left Wooddam. The reason the king tasked a Bane Knight with such a menial quest is because he wanted to make sure the people that it got to believed it. An unknown and untested knight like yourself could never deliver the news with the same credibility.”
“Then let me pursue the The Ferret.”
Swift did not speak. He knew to send the young knight after The Ferret was to send him to his death. But Sir Ebros was correct. Their quest was to deliver the rumor to each of the towns and castles in the Overland. The King would have others watching and gauging events with the belief that they had all received the rumor by now. If they stopped now then the king and his allies might mistake inaction on the part of other leaders as disloyalty to the crown. The consequences of which could be dire. Even if the few towns they had already reached sided with the king they would not be enough to hold the throne against those remaining if the king forced them to side against him by wrongfully accusing them of breaking their oaths.
“Ok Ebros. That is what we will do. I must get the word to the rest of the domains so you must handle this matter of The Ferret. Now heed my words, and heed them well, for your life will surely depend on you following them without variance; and the life of he who The Ferret seeks may very well hinge on them as well.”
Morcai was in a remote part of his citadel. It was a chamber past the visible chambers of books and scrolls one could see when on this floor. Not that he ever let anyone on this floor. Still should a thief or spy make it here unnoticed even they would not see or be able to access this chamber.
Morcai was looking for an old tome on a town called ‘Misery’. Few people living in the Overland today remembered the town or its fate and fewer spoke of it. Morcai remembered the town quite well and was quite familiar with its fate and his part in it. It still tormented him but he was young then and sought power and there were few ways to obtain the type of power Morcai sought. So the things he did seemed ‘reasonable’.
Morcai shook himself. He had not come here to recollect times past. He needed the tome. He had only ever looked into it once before the original book disappeared but the copy he kept here had ‘come to him’ by other worldly means and he needed to confirm a recollection he had of an entry.
There it was. Black leather cover, red trim and gold leaf pages. He flipped to the center of the tome, second paragraph from the top and there was the entry
And then the Lady Gabriel said “when it is completed, I will return from the Dark Lands to lend my power to this new king”
Morcai paused. There was no other entry. Like many passages in the tome they started and stopped with no apparent relationship to the entries that went before or came after. For Morcai the passage had raised more questions than it had answered, “. . .when what was completed?” And who was this ‘new king’ she spoke of and why would she pledge to lend him her power.
Morcai closed the book in frustration and leaned his head against the tall bookshelf supporting himself with his right hand.
This should not be as hard as it was. Becoming king was simply a matter of taking a crown off one man’s head and placing it on his own. A king should be he who is most powerful irrespective of title or rank or birth. Had not Morcai proven that he i
ndeed was the most powerful during that great trial that had made him ‘the bringer of fire’.
Just the thought of it brought him anguish.
Lo so many years ago it seemed when he was still called Matthew or Mordecai by some. In those young years his only dreams had been of knowledge. To seek knowledge in all its forms and manifestations. He desired to be for men what Prince Mantass Uuul was for the Elves. The keeper of its collected knowledge. He had studied and mastered the town magic of every town in The Overland and had went further. He trained as a healer and then a Cleric at Morsh Monastery. And he went further, he learned the bards and legends of the minstrels, he acquired News and Information from the most remote parts of the kingdom and he had served politically as mayor or assistant mayor in a half dozen towns or castles.
Finally, he had achieved all that he could achieve in The Overland and he sought to go further. To go abroad and bring back the collected knowledge of those lands foreign to The Overland. So he consulted with his friend and mentor at the time, Father Josias. Father Josias begged him with bitter tears not to undertake his quest because, said the father, he had seen a dream that Matthew would not survive. That dark forces would commandeer him and the knowledge he sought; and that he would be filled with fire! Fire and destruction were his destiny if he took this path.
But Matthew had undertaken it anyway. Yet it was not long into his travels that the enormity of his ambition had overwhelmed him. There was too much knowledge in too many places for him to consume it all. He could live a hundred lifetimes more than he had already lived and not have even made a good start of acquiring it all. So it was that he was alone and marooned on the Isle of Mist in the Sea of Despair when the Dark Harbinger came to him. Matthew did not know where the dark stranger had come from or even to this day who he was. But the stranger mended his wounds and fed him. Gave him shelter and spoke with him. They talked of many things. Things Matthew had never talked with anyone about nor could he have because this stranger knew of things that no one he had ever met knew of.
