Song of Echoes

by R. E. Palmer

  Hamar sniffed. ‘I think we’ll stop here for the day, start again at nightfall.’

  Toryn stood. ‘But shouldn’t we make the most of what’s left of the dark?’

  Hamar stretched. ‘No rush. Greendell has been around for a few hundred years nestling between the hills, it can wait another day for us. Besides’ — he yawned — ‘I’m tired. We’ll sleep by the stone and let the warmth ease our aches away.’

  Toryn reached for his backpack. ‘Can’t say I disagree.’

  Hamar laid back on the grass and closed his eyes. ‘You won’t be needing your blanket. These stones kept us warm on the coldest of winter nights. And you’ll feel like a new man in the morning, and then we’ll make…’ he snored.

  Toryn placed his backpack next to the stone. The grass beneath felt softer than his bed, the warmth from the stone made him drowsy and he happily surrendered to the urge to sleep. He lay down his head and closed his eyes.

  He pulled the bedclothes closer. Despite the cold, sweat clung to his shivering, fever-wracked body. The wind gleefully shrieked outside, eager to rip the roof from their small house. But it was not the wind keeping him awake. Other voices, dark, fell voices made themselves known amongst the cacophony, rejoicing in the misery the blizzard from the north inflicted upon the land. Shadows danced across the ceiling, and to his innocent eyes, not all looked like shapes made by the trees outside his window.

  He shut his eyes and clasped his hands to his ears, trying in vain to think of the last day of summer. His father said you could always tell when autumn was on its way. ‘There’s something in the air’ he would say. He would treasure the last warm day before the chilled air turned the leaves golden. He imagined the sun on his face as he stood at the border of their land and gazed longingly at the winding path leading to the forest.

  The scene changed. The skies darkened, and the air grew cool. Yet, he felt no fear. The moon emerged from behind a cloud to show the way. Like the silvery trail of a giant snail, the path invited him to depart his home. A lone voice in the trees called to him. A woman sang. Her words drifted across the meadow and wove her spell. He stepped on the path, took two paces; his body grew light. He tumbled but did not fall. More joined the voice. Their words, unknown to him, held him as he gently rolled head over heels to the trees, away from the monsters of the blizzard, away from the farm, away from the parents who cared for him. Away from his young life to the unknown.

  Toryn sat up. At his side, Hamar looked at peace in a deep sleep while the stream flowed on its way as it had done for thousands of years. His face tingled. A voice, like the one from his dream, sang nearby. The high, soft voice of a woman, complementing the music of the stream, so high, and so clear, the woman could be standing by the stone. The moon had risen to a point directly above him, bathing the clearing with a soft, silver light. Another voice joined the first, quickly followed by a third, coming from all directions, weaving their harmonies as effortlessly as the water trickled around the rocks and pebbles.

  Toryn’s breath caught in his throat. A figure stood at the opening but cast no shadow on the rock behind. The song rose as the figure approached. The visitor spoke. A low murmur in a language he did not understand, yet the words brought comfort. He closed his eyes and laid back on the soft grass and let sleep take him once more.

  10. a Window on the Lost Realms

  ‘It is as the Archon suspected’ — the Vice-Archon’s eyes narrowed — ‘and feared.’ Elodi’s stomach knotted as she watched the lines on the woman’s face deepen. Elodi had a seat at a long table set out in the Great Hall for the meeting. She sat with the Lords of Broon, Galabrant and Kernlow, opposite the Archon’s Council, the Castellan, the generals, and the heads responsible for the day-to-day running of the Five Realms. Elodi had grown impatient waiting to hear what the Archon had seen from his new tower. But after an agonizing two-day wait, Elodi feared the worst, wishing instead not to know.

  The Vice-Archon waited for the murmurs to die. She took a deep breath. ‘The enemy is gathering. In due time, the Archon believes they will launch an all-out assault through the pass.’

  All present drew a breath. The Castellan spoke first. ‘And the Archon? May I enquire of his whereabouts?’

  The Vice-Archon took a moment to gather her thoughts. ‘The Archon is in retreat. He needs to prepare to face the challenges ahead. He has instructed his personal guard about his movements and asked me to deliver his account.’

  ‘Thank you, ma’am. And does he… the Archon, know when we can expect the assault?’ The Vice-Archon’s eyes stayed fixed on the table. The Castellan cleared his throat. ‘Vice-Archon?’

  She blinked as if the Castellan took her at unawares. ‘The Archon suspects the Golesh will launch the attack before the winter, perhaps as early as autumn.’ Her eyes bulged as if seeing the hordes pouring through the pass and across the bridge. She shook her head as if trying to rid her head of the vision.

  The Castellan glanced at the set faces around the table. ‘What exactly did the Archon see, ma’am?’

  ‘Machines. He saw machines of a size we’ve yet to build, being assembled.’ Her eyes widened. ‘He spoke of a monstrous battering ram capable of tearing our gate clean off its hinges.’ Many of the representatives gasped. The Vice-Archon continued her litany of the impending disaster. ‘The enemy possesses a dozen trebuchets large enough to hurl boulders the size of a house, and… it turns my insides, but they appear to know what to find on this side of the gate.’ More heads turned as if expecting to see spies sitting at their side. The Vice-Archon’s face tightened. ‘At the rear of the war-machinery, the Archon saw a bridge suspended from a moving platform, of sufficient length to span the gorge’ — her voice wavered — ‘and wide enough for thirty of those foul creatures to cross shoulder-to-shoulder.’

  ‘What are we to do?’ A captain jumped up, pushing back his chair. Others stood and demanded answers. Bardon sitting opposite Elodi remained seated as the color drained from his red face.

  The Castellan raised his hands. ‘Please, please. We must have calm. Let the Vice-Archon finish the report.’

  The Vice-Archon nodded with a stiff neck. ‘Thank you, Castellan.’ She motioned for all to sit. ‘I appreciate this news may come as a shock, but it is vital you know of the magnitude of the threat.’ She straightened, re-discovering her authority. ‘Of course the activity of the enemy is a concern, but it is not unexpected. We’ve known for many years this day would eventually come and the Archon has planned accordingly. Yes, they appear to know what they will encounter on this side of the gate, but thanks to efforts of the Archon, we also have knowledge of their tactics.’

  Bardon spoke. ‘Vice-Archon, from what the Archon describes, how are we to defend against such an overwhelming and determined attack?’

  ‘I grant it is a large force we face, Lord Broon, but overwhelming?’ With a shake of her head, the last of her anxiety dropped from her face. ‘Have faith in the Archon. He knew this moment would come.’ She turned to a man with tufts of gray hair sticking out from the side of his head. ‘Brundell, are the modifications to our weapons complete?’

  Brundell’s eyes widen as if already seeing the possibilities. He nodded. ‘Yes, Vice-Archon, we are almost ready.’ His mouth curled into a grin as he looked at the confused faces around the table. ‘Thanks to the ingenious mind of the Archon, within days our improved weapons stand ready to hurl larger projectiles over the gate.’

  The Vice-Archon smiled. ‘Excellent, the Archon will be pleased to hear of your progress. This will give us the opportunity to disrupt the enemy’s preparations.’ She frowned. ‘You said almost complete, what remains outstanding, Brundell?’

  ‘We have a few minor tests to complete, but I am waiting for Barrson to release the required funds.’

  The Vice-Archon turned to the oldest woman at the table. ‘Privy Barrson. See that Brundell gets all the resources he needs.’

  Barrson’s fingers twitched. ‘But, Vice-Archon, due to spending on
the—’

  ‘This is not the time! If the Golesh are victorious, Barrson, I’m sure they will be more than happy to listen to your woes. Then maybe they will re-allocate your funds for a mass grave for our charred corpses.’

  The woman shrank back. ‘Be assured, Vice-Archon, I will make resources available.’

  ‘Good. And while you’re dipping into the purse, be sure to allocate funds to the builders. Work will start tomorrow to bolster defenses at the gate to slow the enemy’s progress.’ Barrson opened her mouth. The Vice-Archon leveled her eyes at the Privy. ‘Don’t fret. Plans to raise the levy will take immediate effect to pay for the war effort.’ The Vice-Archon eyed Bardon. ‘I take it I have the full support with this measure from the realms?’

  Bardon glanced to Elodi. He nodded without a word.

  ‘Excellent. Now back to the defenses. As I announced earlier, the new weapons are in place and the artillery division are being trained in their use. From the parapets we can rain down fire and stone on the advanced forces and aim to incapacitate as many of their weapons as possible. Artillery will hold ammunition in reserve for when they roll out their bridge. We hope to inflict enough damage on it to render it incapable of spanning the gorge.’ She took a breath. ‘In short, and to put it crudely, our forces will block the pass with Golesh dead and wreckage of their evil machines. Yes, their numbers are great, and the Archon anticipates some will make it to the head of the pass, but they will come to rue the day they thought they could invade with impunity.’

  Elodi felt her chest expand. Heads around the table lifted. Could they possibly see off the threat? The Vice-Archon turned her attention to the man at the opposite end of the table. ‘General Kragan. What is our current strength?’

  Elodi watched the General as he shuffled his papers. She guessed the man to be in his late sixties, but his straight back and broad shoulders beneath his dark red cloak belied his age. He lowered his whiskered jaw and flashed his gray eyes as if he relished the task ahead. ‘Vice-Archon, our elite forces number close to four thousand swords, half that number are already at the gate, I can mobilize the rest in under an hour.’ Kragan regarded both sides of the table, taking obvious pleasure from the approving nods. ‘The Knights of the Archon can assemble six thousand spears at short notice, and of course, the First Horse are always ready. The Archonian Guard exceed fifteen thousand, with another five in reserve housed at garrisons less than two days’ from here.’ Kragan appeared to gain confidence as he listed his forces. ‘I can muster the reserves. Galabrant and Kernlow could be here within ten days, and four weeks for Harlyn and Broon as a precaution.’ He referred to a sheet of paper before him. ‘At present, they number just shy of twelve thousand men and women. The artillery regiments are at full strength, but, Vice-Archon, our strategy will require the allocation of more resources to the armory, and therefore I will need extra funding.’

  She tapped her finger on the table, motioning to Privy Barrson. ‘Granted.’

  The General nodded. ‘Thank you, ma’am. But, if I may ask, what of the eight hundred men transferred to special duties three summers back? I have yet to receive news of their situation.’

  The Vice-Archon lips pursed. ‘That will become known once the Archon decides you need to know.’ Her eyebrows raised. ‘And what of the new recruits?’

  The general frowned and referred to his papers. ‘Three hundred, Vice-Archon. They’ll be arriving shortly from Darrow, Perran and Gwelayn.’ His mind seemed elsewhere as he fought to remember the question. ‘Err… within four months they will be capable of basic defensive duties. But it would help if I knew—’

  ‘I make that a potential forty-two thousand men and women at arms.’ The Vice-Archon held the captain’s gaze. ‘Am I correct?’

  The General spluttered. ‘Yes, that is correct, Vice-Archon.’

  ‘General?’ He looked surprised by Bardon’s interruption. Bardon continued. ‘And what of the defenses elsewhere?’

  ‘Broon! This is not the time.’ The Vice-Archon glared. ‘We have far more—’

  ‘Are we to assume’ — Bardon raised his voice, speaking over the Vice-Archon — ‘the soldiers posted on the northern border are to remain at full strength? Lack of resources has already forced us to abandon many of our forts and watchtowers in both Lunn and Dorn.’

  The Vice-Archon took a breath and lowered her voice. ‘Can I remind you—’

  Bardon exhaled. ‘We in the north do not need to be reminded of the increase in activity on our borders. If the General demands our reserves come south, the raids will only worsen.’

  Elodi cleared her throat, feeling she should support Bardon. ‘Vice-Archon. If we are to provide food for the Archon’s forces, we have to protect our farmers. Dorn lost close to three percent of its yield to raids last year alone, and’ — she noticed Bardon nodding his approval — ‘as Lord Broon stated, the losses will escalate if we weaken our defenses. And we must not forget the mines at Drunsberg provide the bulk of the metals for our armories.’

  ‘Lady Harlyn makes a good point.’ All heads at the table turned as the Archon’s voice resonated around the hall.

  All rose. The Vice-Archon stammered. ‘Archon, I was not informed you would be attending this meeting.’

  He held up his hand. ‘Please, be seated.’ Two orderlies brought forward a bigger chair to place at the head. Another moved the Vice-Archon to the side as others shuffled along to make room.

  The Archon sat. Everyone else followed. ‘Vice-Archon, I did not originally intend to come this evening. But on reflection, I felt my attendance would be beneficial to all.’ Elodi shrank back in her chair as the Archon’s eyes passed over her to Bardon. ‘I appreciate the concern of our friends in the north.’ He held up a finger. ‘But, if we should fail against the imminent onslaught from the south, there will be nothing left for these’ — he waved his hand and sneered — ‘sons of the frozen lands to pilfer. The old foe of the north is long since dead, but I agree with Lady Harlyn. The mines must be secured, and your farmers require protection from these ruffians. They cannot tend their livestock with one hand on a sword and one eye over their shoulders.’ He folded his arms. ‘General. I have the utmost confidence in your forces and therefore see no need to summon the reserves, even as a precaution. Let them stay in their own lands to see off any threat.’

  General Kragan’s face flushed. ‘Thank you, Archon.’ But Elodi could see the General had doubts.

  The Archon turned to Bardon. ‘And I am sure, Lord Broon, you can train your own armies in order to take care of these ragtag thieves without the need of my soldiers.’ Elodi noted this was not a question. The Archon clasped his hands under his chin. ‘I think this vindicates my policy.’ He cleared his throat. ‘If anyone present has reservations about allocating more resources in the south’ — he glanced to Bardon — ‘with the exception of the aforementioned reserves, then please speak and make them known.’ He met the gaze of each person sitting at the table. ‘Good.’ He turned to the soldier standing behind the general. ‘Captain! Send word to the north. The remaining guardsmen are to be assigned to Archonholm with immediate effect. As for Drunsberg, they will commit a third of their strength to the defenses here. And send messengers to all parts of the Five Realms informing them of the situation at the gate. We don’t want an outright panic, but they will soon notice the movement of soldiers.’ He turned to Vice-Archon. ‘The Vice-Archon will pen the appropriate words.’

  The captain’s face gave nothing away of his thoughts. He saluted, pivoted on his heels and marched to the door. But the Proctor’s junior assistant failed to notice the approaching officer. The captain skidded to a halt. He spat out his words, not meant for the ears of the hall. ‘What are you waiting for, boy?’ The assistant stammered an apology and reached for the handle to open the door. The captain scoffed loudly. ‘Perhaps I should send you to the gate where you could hold up the enemy.’

  The Archon waved his hand at the Proctor. The old man nodded and groaned as he ro
se from his stool. All at the table watched as the Proctor ushered his paled-faced assistant out of the hall. The Archon turned back to the table. ‘General Kragan, Vice-Archon, Castellan, the lords and Lady Harlyn, please stay, the rest may leave.’

  The Archon waited until the last of the uninvited had left the room. He turned back to those remaining at the table and cleared his throat. ‘It has come to my attention some of you are not happy with the rise in the levy paid to Archonholm.’ Elodi caught Bardon’s eye. The Archon clicked his fingers to the Proctor. ‘Have the map brought in.’ He watched the frowns and sideways glances of those seated and waited. When all eyes returned to him, he nodded and smiled. ‘I think this is the appropriate time to enlighten you on what your taxes have paid for these last few years.’ The Archon’s eyes shone. ‘And something the Golesh will not be expecting.’

  11. Moonrise over Caranach

  Hamar stroked his beard. ‘Good. The skies are clear. Won’t be long now, see, it’s getting lighter over yonder.’ He swigged from the flask and passed it to Toryn. ‘Will be quite a view from the top of this ridge.’

  Toryn welcomed the break and took a long drink. ‘How do you do it? You’re three times my age yet you keep walking.’

  Hamar patted his thigh. ‘Training and experience. Spent my life on my feet. Didn’t prance about on a horse like a knight. And even my injury couldn’t keep me off ‘em for long.’ He gripped Toryn’s shoulder. ‘You’ll soon get the hang of it.’

  Toryn peered to the horizon. ‘How far is the range from here?’

  ‘Barely a league I reckon, or thereabouts.’

  ‘A league?’ Toryn’s heart raced.

  ‘Oh yes, we’re that close.’ Hamar stretched his back. ‘We’ve been traveling north and a little way east. Our going might be slow in the dark, but we’ve easily covered thirty leagues, twenty-four as the crow flies, and at least six have been eastwards.’