by Alex Janaway
RESURGENCE
END OF EMPIRE
Book Three
Copyright © Alex Janaway 2019
The right of Alex Janaway to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998.
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher or unless such copying is done under a current Copyright Licensing Agency license. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
RESURGENCE
END OF EMPIRE
Book Three
by
ALEX JANAWAY
First published 2018 by Fantastic Books Publishing
Cover design by Gabi
Artwork by Kirsty O’Rourke
Map illustration by Fez Baker
ISBN (ebook): 978-1-912053-46-9
ISBN (paperback): 978-1-912053-45-2
The Tissan Empire
DEDICATION
To Mum and Dad
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue – Nadena
Part One
Chapter 1 – Owen
Chapter 2 – Cade
Chapter 3 – Michael
Chapter 4 – Nutaaq
Chapter 5 – Cade
Chapter 6 – Ellen
Chapter 7 – Owen
Chapter 8 – Cade
Chapter 9 – Owen
Chapter 10 – Cade
Chapter 11 – Killen
Chapter 12 – Owen
Chapter 13 – Killen
Chapter 14 – Owen
Chapter 15 – Killen
Chapter 16 – Michael
Chapter 17 – Owen
Chapter 18 – Killen
Chapter 19 – Owen
Chapter 20 – Killen
Chapter 21 – Owen
Chapter 22 – Killen
Chapter 23 – Owen
Chapter 24 – Killen
Chapter 25 – Owen
Chapter 26 – Kanyay
Chapter 27 – Michael
Chapter 28 – Ellen
Chapter 29 – Michael
Chapter 30 – Cade
Chapter 31 – Owen
Chapter 32 – Michael
Chapter 33 – Owen
Chapter 34 – Killen
Chapter 35 – Michael
Chapter 36 – Cade
Chapter 37 – Owen
Chapter 38 – Cade
Chapter 39 – Owen
Chapter 40 – Cade
Chapter 41 – Nutaaq
Chapter 42 – Michael
Part Two
Chapter 43 – Nadena
Chapter 44 – Cade
Chapter 45 – Owen
Chapter 46 – Ellen
Chapter 47 – Nutaaq
Chapter 48 – Michael
Chapter 49 – Owen
Chapter 50 – Cade
Chapter 51 – Owen
Chapter 52 – Killen
Chapter 53 – Cade
Chapter 54 – Owen
Chapter 55 – Michael
Chapter 56 – Owen
Chapter 57 – Ellen
Chapter 58 – Michael
Chapter 59 – Cade
Chapter 60 – Michael
Chapter 61 – Killen
Chapter 62 – Owen
Chapter 63 – Ellen
Chapter 64 – Michael
Chapter 65 – Killen
Chapter 66 – Michael
Chapter 67 – Owen
Chapter 68 – Cade
Chapter 69 – Michael
Chapter 70 – Ellen
Chapter 71 – Cade
Chapter 72 – Owen
Chapter 73 – Killen
Chapter 74 – Cade
Chapter 75 – Michael
Chapter 76 – Nadena
Chapter 77 – Nutaaq
Chapter 78 – Owen
Chapter 79 – Ellen
Chapter 80 – Michael
Chapter 81 – Cade
Chapter 82 – Owen
Chapter 83 – Michael
Chapter 84 – Cade
Chapter 85 – Michael
Chapter 86 – Killen
Chapter 87 – Ellen
Chapter 88 – Owen
Chapter 89 – Cade
Chapter 90 – Owen
Chapter 91 – Nadena
Chapter 92 – Cade
About the Author
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
The Tissans
Father Michael – ex arena champion, protector of the Emperor
Emperor Tigh – ruler of the Tissan peoples
Ellen – a Gifted, and friend of Father Michael
Cadarn – a Leader of the Eagle Riders; rides Hilja
Bryce – an Eagle Rider; rides Nukka
Corporal Fenner, Beautiful, Wendell, Coyle, Japes– marines
Father Llews – counsellor to the Empress
Cardinal Yarn – head of the Schools of the Gifted
Empress Alana – the Emperor’s mother
Admiral Lukas – commander of the Imperial fleet
Jenna – an Eagle Rider; rides Lissa
Harwen – an Eagle Rider
Sasha – a Reader
Rosen, Parasa, Eli – Watchers
Those at Brevis
Cade – Councillor
Devlin – ex Imperial officer and member of Cade’s crew
Issar, Evan, Krste, Anyon, Rula – members of Cade’s crew
Sent – Councillor
Winders – Councillor
Carlha – Councillor
Rabb – Councillor
Heled – Councillor
Walsh – Councillor
Cline – Barkeep
The Highlands
Owen Derle – Eagle Rider and Head of Eagle’s Rest; rides Arno
Naimh – Murtagh’s sister
Jenni – Murtagh’s wife
Larsen and Saul – trappers
Jussi – Eagle Rider; rides Ayolf
Erskine and Ernan – Eagle Rider and brothers
Anneli – Eagle Rider; rides Taru
Conor, Breege, Karl – Highlanders
The Nidhal
Nutaaq – Father of his tribe
Arluuq and Immayuk – Nutaaq’s brothers
Weguek – a Nidhal warrior
Gantak – a Nidhal shaman
The Erebeshi Scouts
Major Killen Roche – Imperial officer commanding the Third
Erebeshi Scouts
Captain Jehali Rashad
Sadad
Abbas
Hassan
Misha
Fatima
Others
Nadena – daughter of Patiir, wife to Sabin Fillion
Archmage Velland – elf sorcerer
Kanyay – servant from the wood elf tribes
Marmus – ambassador of the Dwarf Nations
Meera – elf healer
Colonel Frey – commander of elf cavalry
Lila – a Erebeshi survivor
Tomor – Plainsman
Bayar – son of Tomor
Sarnai – daughter of Tomor
PROLOGUE – NADENA
Nadena placed her hands on the carved wooden railing and gazed out over the assembled ranks of elven cavalry and foot soldiers. From the balcony, located midway up the height of the King’s palace, she had a clear view down the boulevard that led to the Parliament and the Temple of the Gods. The force they were sending west filled the route all the
way back to those self-same buildings. Ten thousand in number, almost all of them were veterans of the first war, as well as the hundreds providing support – the healers, wagon drivers, armourers, farriers and the like. She felt a pang of remorse that they should be called upon to march once more, to finish what they had started but a couple of years before. Not all of them would come back and of those that did, not all would be whole, in body or mind or both. She barely kept her own sanity intact.
A little below her, a wider deeper balcony spread out, and occupying it was the King, his family and generals. She paid little attention to the words that he spoke, carried to the farthest ears by sorcerous means. They meant almost nothing to her, evoked no emotion, conjured no sense of moral purpose. She needed none of his rhetoric. That they were marching was enough.
What drove her was something far stronger. At first, she had tried to define it as vengeance, a desire to see justice done for the murder of her entire family. By the scouring of the vestiges of their enemy she would derive some sense of closure or peace from their passing. But that was wrong. She had had her vengeance when she had killed the elf … the man … who had done this. Sabin had taken almost everything from her and yet he had failed in his purpose. For she still lived. And their daughter, Brynne, still lived and thrived.
So it was not vengeance. Upon Sabin’s death by her hand, and during the slow ride back to Apamea and her discovery by a search party, she did not feel any sense of retribution. She had put it down to shock. The horror of finding her father slaughtered, the news that her brother and sister lay dead in their home, the family retainers bleeding out on the ground, would be enough to drive anyone mad with grief. But as she’d slowly begun to comprehend what Sabin had done on their flight from the capital, only a fierce sense of practicality drove her. She did not want to go with him, and even as her heart was shattered by the revelation, she knew the only way to protect Brynne was to kill her husband. And once that was done, she left his body where it lay and calmly rode away taking his horse, Amice, with her.
It was not vengeance. It was expedience. The army marched because there was still a threat. And the only way that she could protect Brynne from that threat was to eradicate it completely, utterly. That was what her father had always counselled, had spent his life working towards. Patiir, one of the greatest members of Parliament, the strongest, staunchest defender of elvendom. Only now, did she truly understand what he had stood for, what he saw more clearly than any other. That the greatest threat to their way of life, their very existence, was their own inertia. For such long-lived beings as they, it was easy to slip into a blissful sense of expectation and serenity; that the constant passing of the seasons was fixed and immutable.
But it was not so, the world around them was in a constant state of flux. And from this chaos would rise other forces, hungry to take which the elves had: order, peace, stability. Only her father had had the strength to push back, to fight the tide, and in the end it had taken him. But she was still here. And she would continue her father’s cause.
She heard the gentle rustle of cloth, the padding of soft footsteps and turned to see the approach of Velland, the archmage, the greatest of their sorcerers and master of their colleges. His noble face, sharply defined by a shock of greying hair and piercing green eyes, regarded her with gentle concern.
‘Velland.’
‘My lady. What do you think of our King’s speech?’
Nadena smiled thinly. ‘I confess, I have not been paying attention.’
Velland returned her smile with more warmth than hers could muster. He reached out and his hand emerged from the sleeve of his voluminous purple robes. He placed it on her shoulder and squeezed.
‘I am not surprised. And nor can I comment myself on its content.’ He withdrew his hand and joined her by the railing. ‘I have heard too many of these speeches and find myself somewhat inured to their power. A result of such a long life in service, no doubt.’
Nadena nodded but did not respond. The sorcerer was of an age with her father and so had seen many such gatherings.
‘I am a little surprised to find you watching from here. I would have thought you would have taken your place with the gathered Members at the steps of the Parliament, ready to see the army off. That is the usual protocol.’
Nadena, tilted her head and shrugged slightly. As the last scion of her family, at least directly, she inherited all of her father’s legacy, including his position as a Member.
‘The King has granted me the use of these chambers in perpetuity if I wish. I find myself in no hurry to depart them.’
‘He loved your father. It is the least he could do. And he is truly fond of Brynne. She will have a blessed life. He will see no injury to her body or soul. She may have lost her father and family, but she has inherited a doting uncle.’
‘Yes. Truly blessed.’ She could not hide the sarcasm and did not care.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.
‘Nadena, I am sorry, these things are too fresh to discuss.’
She nodded tightly.
‘But my true question remains unanswered. Do you think you will take up your Father’s legacy?’’
‘In time, yes,’ she acknowledged. ‘But first I have other duties to attend to. And I believe that is the true purpose of your visit.’
Velland tapped the railing lightly. ‘Ah, your father’s insight begins to show itself. As to my true purpose, I was surprised to hear that you have volunteered to accompany the army.’
‘I am no fighter, but I am a healer. They go to finish what they started. I must as well, for my part.’
He turned to look at her. ‘And yet you have lost so much already. You have paid a heavy price. And what of your daughter?’
‘She and I have bonded, she knows I love her. I go because I love her. Where better to leave her for such a short time, than under the care of our beloved King and his staff?’
‘Indeed. But still …’
Nadena reached out and placed a hand upon his. Velland raised an eyebrow but did not flinch. ‘Thank you for your concern, truly. You have always been a friend and ally to my family. But I must see it done.’
He dipped his head and she withdrew her hand.
‘And what of you? Are you coming with us?’
Velland shook his head. ‘Not immediately. A cadre of mages will travel with the army of course. But I will stay to monitor the growth of our bees. It takes time to nurture them, to train them to accept their rider’s bidding.’
‘Are they necessary?’
Velland shrugged.
‘You have heard the reports of eagles attacking our woodland kin. I admit to some doubt, considering the source, but we must be prepared to counter any threat. It will be a small crop of bees we will raise. More than enough to cover our forces.’
‘Well, I will be glad when they arrive.’
‘We will catch up with you soon enough. I imagine it will take time to locate the enemy, let alone bring them to any kind of engagement.’ He leaned out and cocked his head. ‘Ah, the King has finished.’
Nadena looked down on to the balcony below. The King had indeed finished speaking and silence reigned. And then, at an unseen command, the massed ranks of spear, archers and cavalry raised their weapons high and cried out as one.
‘For the King. For the Heartlands!’
As the noise echoed, the King raised a hand in farewell and the soldiers about-turned and began to march away, in a display of flawless precision.
‘They do that well, do they not?’ Velland observed, with pride.
‘They do,’ Nadena agreed.
‘Forgive me. I must away, and I am sure you want to get to the hospital convoy,’ said Velland.
Nadena looked at him and smiled. ‘I will stay for a few moments longer. To say goodbye to Brynne.’
Velland bowed. ‘I will see you on the trail,’ he said, and departed the balcony.
Nadena returned her gaze to the soldiers
heading west, their marching setting a practiced rhythm. They looked very fine, just like the last time she had seen the army march to war. And when the fighting started, no matter how superior in battle the elves may be, they still screamed when a blade cut deep.
After a several minutes she left the balcony. She had lingered longer than intended. The King and his entourage had already left, leaving her the final witness to the retreating troops. She walked through the palace, down wide sweeping stairs and long corridors framed by broad arches of beautifully curving wood. She turned a corner, almost colliding with the elf coming the other way.
‘Lenard.’
The old elf swayed a little from the near impact, his face moving from shock to relief.
‘Ah, Nadena. My heart survives another brush with excitement.’
‘My apologies.’
‘No need,’ he replied, waving a hand bearing a rolled piece of parchment.
‘What do you have there?’ She indicated the parchment and the collection of scrolls bundled under his other arm.
‘I am on my way to see the King. He wants information on matters closely related to our present endeavours.’
‘Oh?’
He leaned in and spoke quietly, as if further conspirators and spies yet inhabited their home. She did not doubt that Fillion had been the only one.
‘Your words in Parliament moved the King deeply.’
He referred to her plea, spoken the day after her return to the capital. Her plea? No, her demand, that her father’s work be finished. ‘I have just watched the result of my words, Lenard.’
‘True. But did you know the King has had to call upon the eastern garrisons, those who man the far lookouts and such?’
No she did not. ‘Why?’
Lenard rubbed at his nose with the parchment.
‘We face threats on two fronts. The humans to the west and now the dwarves to the north. The King needs troops to bolster any moves from our erstwhile allies.’
‘And he has mandated us to return home after the campaign with all haste. I know this, but surely stripping the east is too much?’
Lenard shrugged. ‘He knows the dwarves are mobilising. He needs to give them pause. We can achieve that with a solid frontier.’
‘And the east?’
‘That is why I go to him now. He wants to understand the history and precedent. He wants to know he is not opening the gates on something even more terrible.’
