by R. E. Palmer
The knights drained the wine and banged on the table until the serving girl refilled them. The captain held up his hands. ‘Keep it down, lads, you’ll scare the young ‘uns.’ He waited for quiet before turning to Drakelow. ‘Thank you, Marshal, for your welcome. Right’ — he rubbed his stomach — ‘time to eat.’ His men cheered as the servers brought plates of pork, potatoes and green beans. Toryn and the villagers had to wait longer for their meagre supper of bread and cheese to arrive. He picked at the contents of his plate, careful not to finish before those at the head table.
When their guests had eaten their fill, and much of next week’s ration, the captain stood. In turn, his eyes met each of the young men in the room. He drew a breath as if to speak but paused as a young girl at the back of the hall cried for her mother. The woman excused herself from the table and hurried to the distraught toddler. To the relief of the hall, the girl settled once she laid eyes on her mother. The captain knocked back his drink and winked at the mother. ‘If you’re finished at the back, I’ll start the formal part of the evening.’ He straightened. ‘As you know, the Archon works day and night to maintain the watch at the Caerwal Gate so you can farm your lands and live in peace. My men devote the best years of their lives to this noble duty. While you sleep in your beds, we remain ever vigilant for the enemy on your behalf. We watch the ports, the rivers, the mountains, and the borders of all lands for signs of intrusion and—’ an old man coughed, the captain turned — ‘and yes, I’m afraid this means we have to enforce certain restrictions.’
A low murmur rose in the hall. Drakelow held up his hands. ‘Now, now, please let the man speak.’
‘Thank you, Marshal. I know you would prefer the freedom to travel and trade, but as you’re aware, we still have remnants of the dark forces in hiding, no doubt waiting for our resolve to weaken, and of course, we also have to deal with the brigands from the north.’ The muttering continued, forcing the captain to raise his voice. ‘The restrictions make it somewhat easier for us to track down those still bearing us a grudge. However, these restrictions will need to be stricter from now on.’ He took a breath. ‘Of late, there has been… let’s just say certain events in the east may have been orchestrated from the other side of the Caerwal Mountains. I’ve—’
Some gasped. All heads turned to their loved ones, three women stood and rushed to their young. Drakelow raised his voice. ‘Let’s all stay calm. Please, allow the man to finish. I’m sure the Archon has a plan to counter this threat.’
The captain nodded. ‘Marshal Drakelow is right. The Archon expected such events. I’ve advised your Marshal to step up the watch on your borders, and my detachment will continue to patrol this side of the mountains. And besides’ — he gestured to the back of the hall — ‘while fine men like young Hamar still draw breath, you’ll be safe. What do you say, Hammy?’
Toryn turned. Hamar blinked as if waking, surprised to see all eyes upon him. He coughed. ‘Sorry, Captain, I was… deep in thought there for a moment. What was the question?’ Many laughed, relieved by the distraction.
The captain laughed with them. ‘I was saying, while you’re still in your prime, these good people have nothing to worry about.’
Hamar’s chest expanded until the buttons strained. ‘No, of course not. Well that is, as long as the sun comes out and our crops can—’
‘See.’ The captain tried but failed to prevent the grin spreading across his face. ‘As alert and on his guard as ever.’ The grin faded. ‘But to return to the issue at hand, we must prepare’ — he glanced at his men — ‘for more unrest.’ He bent, picked up his drink and drained the contents as the voices of the villagers rose. The captain held up his hands. ‘But! Fear not. The Archon has prepared for this type of thing and has taken necessary steps to counter the threat, and indeed, take action.’ He leveled his gaze to Toryn’s table. ‘All males who’ve seen eighteen summers but fewer than twenty-eight, please stand.’
Toryn glanced to Elrik as they rose, numbering ten in total. He felt suddenly exposed as all eyes focused on them. The captain pushed back his chair. ‘Good. Now, please come to the front.’
Toryn followed Elrik and the others to form a line in front of the head table. He scanned the line; all stood taller and broader than he. The captain moved to the opposite end. He placed his hands behind his back and strolled along the line before turning and returning to his position. ‘You.’ Toryn’s heart pounded as the man pointed a large finger at him. ‘You at the end, step forward.’ The others shrank back a pace as Toryn obeyed. ‘Please, stand to attention.’ Toryn pushed out his chest. He approached and stopped opposite. He frowned. ‘Aren’t you a little small for your age, sonny? Are you sure you’re over eighteen?’ The men laughed, but the captain ignored them. He rested his hands on Toryn’s shoulders. ‘I admire your courage, boy, but I can only take those of the right age.’ He smiled. ‘How old are you? And please, speak the truth.’’
‘Twenty-one, Captain.’
‘Twenty-one?’ He turned to Elrik at Toryn’s side. ‘Looks like the big fellow here has been eating this poor lad’s ration.’ The knights laughed harder. The captain held up his hand. ‘Well never you mind, the training and good food will soon build you up.’
‘Does this mean—?’ Toryn stuttered. ‘Sorry, sir… Captain, I didn’t mean to speak out of turn.’
His eyebrow raised. ‘Speak your thoughts, lad.’
Toryn cleared his throat and felt his face grow hot. ‘You said, training. But I haven’t’ — he glanced down the line — ‘none of us have passed the trial, yet.’
‘Ah, yes.’ He moved to the end of the line. ‘This brings me to my next point.’ He glanced to the Marshal. Toryn noted the slight nod of Drakelow’s head. The captain sucked air through his teeth. ‘Due to the extra duties placed upon us in these troubled times, there’ll be no trial tomorrow.’ Elrik frowned, Hamar stirred and squinted at Toryn. He strolled back in front of the line. ‘This year, I will assign all eligible males for training at Archonholm’s barracks.’ He turned to face Elrik and Toryn. ‘Go home, pack your belongings, lads, and be ready to depart at first light.’
Toryn stared into the flames. No trial, no test of strength. They had chosen all the young men, and tomorrow he would leave his home and take the long journey south. For years he had longed to travel, but now he was not so sure.
Miram hurried through. ‘Here they are.’ She placed a pair of socks on his bed. ‘They’re thick so will be too warm for the south, but you’ll need them for the first part of the journey.’ She straightened the pile of clothes, ready for packing in his rucksack. ‘Be sure to eat well, and sleep, you’ll need plenty of rest if you’re—’ She spun away.
‘Mum.’ Toryn took her arm and turned her back to face him. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll be with Elrik and the others, we’ll look after each other.’
She blinked away a tear. ‘I know, but it won’t stop me worrying and it could be years before—’
‘You should take this.’ His father stood at the door. Andryn held something wrapped in a cloth under his arm. He placed it on Toryn’s bed and removed the cloth. Beneath lay a sword. Andryn picked it up by the blade and held out the hilt to Toryn. ‘It’s not the finest in the land, but it’s not the worst either. Elrik’s grandfather made it for my father, he passed it on to me, but as you know’ — he winced as he patted his leg — ‘I never had the chance to wield it.’
Toryn took it. ‘It’s heavy.’ He raised the blade and thrust it forward as Hamar had taught him.
‘Careful.’ Miram stepped back.
He lowered the point and glowered at his father. ‘Why have you never shown me this before? My wooden sword broke years ago.’
Andryn glanced to Miram. ‘I… well… I couldn’t be sure you’d ever need it.’
Toryn placed the sword back in the cloth. ‘You too, eh? Does no one think I could make it as an Archonian Guard?’
‘No, he’s not saying that.’ Miram covered the weapon. ‘He mea
ns because you work on the land, we thought you wouldn’t be expected to—’
‘But Hamar went. He farmed. And you, father, you’ve got years left before you’re too old to work. Jerrum can take my place. Why wouldn’t they take me?’ He turned his back, grabbed hold of his socks and stuffed them into the rucksack.
‘Toryn.’ Miram took his hand. ‘We have always—’
‘He can’t go!’ All three spun around. Hamar spluttered and coughed as he leaned against the door frame. His eyes fell upon the sword handle poking out from under its cover. He recovered his breath and pleaded with Andryn. ‘You can’t let him go. You know he can’t. They’ll find out.’
Toryn turned from Hamar back to his mother. ‘Find out what?’
Miram’s hand went to her mouth. Andryn raised his hand, but Hamar would not be silenced. ‘He has to know. Tell him. Because if you don’t, I will.’
5. the Battle on the Wall
‘Please wait here for the Proctor.’ The guide returned the way they had entered. Wendel waited until the guide had shut the door before he spoke, but his words were lost on Elodi. She stared up at the elaborate vaulted ceiling high above their heads.
‘Breathe.’ Elodi spun as Bardon approached. He smiled. ‘It helps if you breathe.’
Elodi took his advice. She whispered. ‘Father told me of the Great Hall, but his words don’t come close to doing it justice.’
‘Err, ma’am.’ Wendel stepped in. ‘This isn’t the hall. This is the waiting area. The Great Hall is on the other side of those doors.’
Elodi’s face flushed. ‘Yes, well… thank you, Wendel, for putting me right. That will be all.’
‘But the meeting?’
‘I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be’ — she touched his arm — ‘thanks to your instruction. But I need to speak with Lord Broon. I will send for you when I’m done.’
Wendel glanced to Bardon. ‘As you wish, ma’am. But remember what I said about—’
‘I will, thank you.’ Her advisor turned and ambled away. Elodi imagined she could see his thoughts whirring above his head.
She stifled a yawn. ‘We must have spent the best part of the night preparing for this, but I doubt I can remember half of what he said.’
Bardon grinned. ‘Half will be plenty, even if Wendel has done only a quarter of his job. And, if it helps, I thought this was the Great Hall on my first visit.’
Her shoulders dropped. ‘Thank you, it does. But these ceilings. Calerdorn is a fine, if aging city, but nothing compares to this place. And those doors… if the gate is as sturdy, surely we have nothing to fear.’
Bardon looked up. ‘The Archon takes pleasure from his grand gestures. He’s overseen the construction and decoration of all the staterooms, and the quarters allocated to us both.’ He leaned closer, lowering his voice. ‘I only hope all this grandeur doesn’t distract him from attending to the defenses.’ But Elodi barely heard his words — she had turned and stood aghast at the huge tapestry covering the entire back wall.
Bardon followed her gaze. ‘Depicts quite a scene does it not.’
Elodi could only nod. As a girl she had cowered at the tale of the desperate rear-guard action of the Archon against the full might and fury of the Golesh. The Battle of the Gormadon Plain was both the finest and darkest hour of the Seven Realms before diminished to five. Tens of thousands of the greatest soldiers ever to take up arms had perished in a last-ditch attempt to stop the invasion. Trampled under the hooves of craven beasts surging north, they had laid down their lives to allow time for the completion of the Caerwal Gate. Many more had died in battles further to the north as the Archon’s armies fought hard to push back the thousands of raiders landing on both the east and west coasts. But all would have been in vain had it not been for the Archon’s defiant stand.
Elodi stepped closer. At the center of the scene, three fierce drayloks bore down on the lone, armored figure of the Archon. With a large shield, he fended off tongues of flames spewing from their gaping mouths. In his right hand he held aloft the Sword of the Realms striking at the long, barbed strands of the hags’ hair seeking to entwine him. As all fell about him, the Archon stood firm and held up the enemy advance, but at significant cost. As the tale goes, he fought for three days and nights until the signal finally came the gate was ready to close. Rescued by his fearless horse, Arrow, he barely escaped with his life. He had slid from his horse close to death as the gate had swung shut in the face of the raging Golesh and their foul creatures, denied their ultimate prey.
‘You can virtually feel the heat of their fire.’ Bardon stood at her side. ‘Whatever some may think, we do owe the Archon a great debt.’
Elodi studied the black eyes of his assailants. ‘They aren’t… I am right in thinking drayloks weren’t really as terrible as portrayed here.’ She turned to Bardon. ‘I know we like to scare children by saying a shrieking draylok will drag them from their beds if they misbehave, but’ — she pointed to the tapestry — ‘they’re didn’t breathe fire, did they?’
Bardon’s eyes wandered across the Archon’s foes. He blinked. ‘Only the Archon knows for sure, and he rarely speaks of the confrontation.’ He rubbed his hand across his face. ‘I dare say the artist exaggerated their appearance to show our leader at his best.’
‘Drayloks or not, he must have immense strength. How could one stand up against such an assault?’
Bardon turned his back on the wall. ‘It took the best part of a decade for the Archon to get back on his feet. I trust he’s fully regained his strength, as I fear we may have to rely on him once again. The Ruuk to the north are growing stronger and bolder, their incursions are hurting, and yet still the Archon focuses his attention solely on the south.’ He dropped back and mimicked drawing a sword from his belt. ‘Did you keep up your training, Elodi? You father said you showed great promise as a child.’
Elodi nodded. ‘He insisted. When I was eight, he presented me with my mother’s sword.’ She laughed. ‘I could barely lift it, let alone swing it at first. But’ — she crouched into a fighting stance — ‘as I grew, I soon learned. And, if I may be so bold, I make a formidable opponent in a duel. Never happier than when I have a sword in my hand, or in the saddle.’ She swung her arm as if parrying a blow. ‘Father instructed my teachers not to go easy on me, and for that I thank him. He made it clear I would lead from the front should it be necessary.’ She turned to Bardon. ‘But I assume he wouldn’t have thought it would be so soon.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’ Bardon replaced his imaginary sword. ‘Remind me, what end did your noble warrior, Dorlan, meet? I’m guessing it wasn’t old age.’
‘Most definitely not, all hero’s need an end worthy of a song at the very least.’ She hummed the tune but stopped before she attempted to sing. ‘It is told he perished as Ormoroth himself fell at the Battle of Talaghir.’
He shrugged. ‘Then we can assume he won’t be showing up any day soon to save your realm. And our brave Gildorul of Keld must have fallen at his side if the tales be true.’
Elodi looked back to the battle on the wall. ‘Then we’re on our own. While the songs may raise our spirits, it’s disheartening to hear how Harlyn has weakened since those times. Draegnor can hardly be described as a fortress these days, and our forces comprise mainly of part-time farmers and smithies. We have yet to rebuild the ruins of Darrowyche, and all our major ports are in need of repair.’ She grimaced at the sight of the embroidered drayloks. ‘If Ormoroth lived, he could stroll across the border and take my realm without breaking step.’
‘Well, let us at least give thanks to our ancestors for his demise.’ Bardon gestured to the doors of the hall. ‘But now to more pressing matters. We must prepare ourselves for the meeting with the Archon. We cannot allow them to raise the levies again in such a short time. While we don’t have to contend with Ormoroth of old, these raids are hurting us both.’
‘Perhaps they’ll listen if we make the case for more resources a
t the old watchtowers.’
‘To you and me, that makes perfect sense, but one doesn’t negotiate with the Archon in the usual sense, it has to be him who gives, and we have to be grateful. And don’t expect to be treated in a manner suited to your status. We may be leaders of our realms, but the Archon and his Council hold all the power. I get the impression the Archon actually sees us as an inconvenience, except when it comes to our levies.’
But Elodi’s mind had drifted elsewhere. She stared at the oak doors rising half-way to the ceiling, adorned with golden decorations in the form of branches and leaves. She shook her head. ‘Is there nothing ordinary about this place?’
Bardon smiled. ‘I must have worn the same face when I first stood here. But don’t expect a warm welcome behind those doors. And expect to wait a while longer. I’m sure it’s all part of a strategy to make us feel uneasy to the point of questioning our own authority.’
Elodi took her eyes from the doors. ‘But in all honesty, what power do we have compared to him? He has the armies, the wealth from the farmlands of Farrand, Archonholm and the palace purse.’
‘That may be so, but we must remember you and I represent two of the Five Realms, and if we act together, form a sizeable power.’
‘But all the same.’ She waved his hand across the room. ‘Do you have anything in all of Broon comparable to this?’
‘Don’t let the architecture, or him, intimidate you. We must stand up to him for the good of our people.’ He smiled. ‘Your father was a determined man, and you are shot from the same bow. Your people trusted him and therefore they’ll trust you. The Archon took a dislike to your father because his loyalty to the people of Harlyn came first.’ He turned to her. ‘We can’t let him have everything his own way. He has to know we will not roll over and bare our bellies every time he demands it.’ His eyes wandered across her face. ‘You’re a clever and determined woman, Elodi, and I predict you’ll make a fine leader for your realm in these troubled times.’
