Fall of a Kingdom

by Michael Greenfield

  “Oh, where is the King?” He noted that Tamala was suddenly taking note of the man he had pointed out.

  “He has been staying at his hunting lodge to the north for the last few weeks. As far as I’m aware no-one has seen him since he went there apart from the lodge staff and the chancellor.”

  “Tamala?”

  “He’s still watching, but he doesn’t appear to be doing anything else.”

  Cal’s mind was racing. He suddenly found himself realising how much he relied upon Farsighter and the others for guidance now that he had decisions of his own to make. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  Astridson raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he nodded his head and turned to lead them to one of the buildings on the far side of the yard. Cal had to make a conscious effort not to keep looking behind to find out whether Cor’dell was following or not.

  The building that they were led to turned out to be a private bar for the officer’s use when they had finished practise. Cal noted that there were very few of the officers in question actually using the place at the moment, which suited him just fine.

  Astridson led them to a table at the rear of the room and signalled for the serving girl to bring them a pitcher of ale. The youngster was quick about it and they shortly had three mugs and one cooled pitcher in front of them.

  “Apologies my Lady, but it is a very rare occasion that sees us entertaining feminine company in our humble abode.” He smiled as he said it and Tamala made the appropriate ladylike sounds as if he was doing more than she could possibly have required already.

  “Now then young Ironsson, what is it that you feel we require a little privacy for.” His tone was still light, though the curiosity was obvious.

  “Firstly it’s Cal. Secondly, I would like to know more about Cor’dell, along the lines of what he was doing in Boraan not four weeks ago leading a company of Shalers against a dwarven refugee caravan.”

  The mug of ale that was half way to the Galorn soldier’s mouth froze in mid-air. “What do you mean?”

  Even Tamala was surprised at the cold quality to Cal’s voice. “I mean that I personally saw him at a distance of ten feet leading the attack.”

  Astridson was silent for a moment, his expression passing from one of confusion through to one of ruthless calculation. “I think that you need to come with me.” He rose from the table.

  Tamala looked taken aback by the brusqueness of the statement, but Cal stood immediately, followed quickly by the magic user.

  “This way.” Astridson led them to the back of the bar where another exit left the building. “If what you say is true, then it might also explain some other things that have been happening recently.”

  The three of them rapidly crossed the sheltered area at the back of the bar, the two visitors forced to trust that the Galorn officer knew what he was doing. Cal risked a rearward glance that revealed they were free of any observation.

  The building that they were led to was a largish stone monstrosity, obviously part of the original keep that the palace had been constructed around. All of the windows that Cal could see were covered in dust and cobwebs, indicating little or no use in recent years.

  “What is this place?” Tamala’s gaze took in the front of the building as they strode to what remained of the main entrance.

  “This is the building used by the first Galorn king as his headquarters as he planned the ‘expansion’ of our national boundaries.” Cal let out a short laugh at the choice of words. “It’s also the most disused building in the palace complex, so we should have at least a short while of peace to talk.”

  Unable to think of any other course of action, Cal and Tamala followed as Astridson passed through the ancient stonework of the entrance.

  Collett, Luda and Vorston had remained silent for the last hour. The door had remained stubbornly solid despite the close attention of Luda for the first few minutes of their captivity, forcing them to accept the inevitable and sit themselves on the cold floor and await whatever was to happen next.

  Without warning they heard the sound of the lock being turned followed by the door swinging open. Myerscough stood to the left of the man that blocked the doorway itself, staring over his shoulder.

  Luda leapt to his feet, but the unknown man just lifted his hand up, palm forward, and the big man found himself pushed roughly to the ground.

  “Magic.” Collett barely uttered the words but they were audible to all.

  “You are quick Commander.” The man stepped through the entrance, allowing the three prisoners to see the group of guards stood behind him. “As you can see, it is futile for you to try anything stupid.”

  Vorston spoke. “Where’s Lieutenant Ironsson?”

  “You’re young friend is being carefully watched so I shouldn’t worry too much about it if I was you.” His smile would have appeared genuine to anyone that couldn’t see his eyes. The smile stopped well short of those. “I am Chancellor Baridon, I believe that you wish to speak with me?”

  Collett handled the answer for them. “Actually, we wish to speak with His Majesty.”

  “That could well pose a problem as His Majesty is currently indisposed.”

  It took a moment for what had been said to sink in, but when the words did the atmosphere of the room took on an entirely different feel. What had already been slightly oppressive became positively hostile.

  “You’ve usurped power that does not belong to you.” Collett looked close to springing up from the floor despite what they had already witnessed.

  “Actually, the power does belong to me, ever since the Mythraan gave it to me.” Baridon turned to Myerscough, “Take them to the cells. Have Colonel Cor’dell organise their transport once he’s had his fun with Ironsson.”

  Vorston let out a cry of rage, but before he could get half way across the small room his world went black.

  Dorrin and Farsighter stood on the aft deck of the Hurricane, gazing in the general direction of the docks. It was only just after an hour since Collett left to seek an audience and they both knew that these things took time, but that didn’t stop them staring at the docks and worrying about the outcome of any discussion. Farsighter had already asked Captain Esbet if he could spare a few crewmembers to accompany him when he made his way into town, so for now all he could do was wait for the right time. Just before lunch was his personal preference, no insult intended to the Hurricane’s galley crew.

  Most of the crew were currently below decks, having already given the upper deck a reasonable clean-up this morning, they were now attending to the more mundane chores that they occupied themselves with whilst in harbour.

  Dorrin heard the sounds of the dockworkers drift across the cluttered waters of the harbour and let them soak over him for a few minutes. Despite the course nature of some of the calls he found it very therapeutic. From the corner of his eye he could see that it was not having the same effect on his companion.

  “Let me guess, you’re a country lad at heart?”

  Farsighter smiled. “How did you guess? Never did like ships.

  In fact, and you’d better not tell any of the others this, I actually suffer from sea sickness whenever I use one.”

  Dorrin turned his head to the old Ranger. “You! I’d never have believed it, and I think you can rest assured that your secret is safe, because I don’t think that any of the others would believe it either.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s true.” He looked about to say something else when his eyes caught movement on the docks. “Dorrin, how often do you see a company of troops deploying along the docks when no ships are arriving?”

  The younger man returned his attention to the wharf side and saw what Farsighter was talking about, but before he could say anything a voice cut in from behind.

  “About as often as the sun kisses the moon.” Both men spun round to be confronted with a figure wearing a dark cloak. “And the implications are just about as welcome.”

  “Who?”

>   “We really don’t have time for all that. Inform Captain Esbet that you are departing immediately, I’m afraid that the powers you face have beaten you to Galorn.”

  “What about Cal and the others?” Dorrin noted that Farsighter used Cal’s name rather than Collett’s, who was leading the delegation, but said nothing.

  “Luda, Collett and Vorston have been taken. Cal and Tamala have escaped but you won’t be able to catch up with them, though you needn’t worry, they’re in good hands.”

  “How do we know that you tell the truth? You mention the powers arrayed against us but we have no way of knowing if that’s who you’re working for.”

  “A sensible question Master Farsighter.” He reached into one of several large pockets that were secreted around his cloak and produced a ring. “Her Majesty gave this to me for just such an occasion, though I agree that I could have just stolen it from her.

  Think on this, Her Majesty is by now travelling through the southern edge of J’Dar. I saw her at Miri, where I had the chance to speak to her and apprise her of the situation.

  In order to see her in Miri and appear here today it is obvious that I must be able to use no small measure of power myself, but I didn’t arrive tossing fireballs at your ship, which would be the simple thing to do if all I wanted was to stop you rescuing your queen.

  Instead I bring you intelligence, which will save you from joining your three captive friends on a slightly unpleasant trip north. It’s your choice of course, but I don’t think you would like that.”

  Farsighter studied him for a moment before shouting, “Esbet, make sail. We leave immediately.” He returned his attention to the robed figure.

  “We need to talk stranger.”

  “Yes we do, but I’d rather not while we’re still in port.”

  Myerscough raced through the doorway of Baridon’s office without knocking, an event that caused the chancellor’s eyebrow to rise fractionally.

  “The Hurricane makes sail. It’s as if they knew.”

  Baridon considered this a moment before replying, “It matters not. Organise an escort to take the three prisoners to Saldar, and intensify the search for the other two.

  Tell Cor’dell that if they escape I will not be best pleased.”

  “At once my Lord.” Myerscough’s speed leaving the room belied his bulk. Fear was a wonderful motivator, Baridon mused.

  Agorel

  Astridson led the pair through several rooms and down at least two sets of stairs before they stopped. After they had entered the first of the dust-covered rooms the tall warrior had taken one of the torches set in stands along the wall and used a flint to light it. Cal had been surprised that it had caught at all as the torches looked as if they had been part of the original fittings.

  Whatever he thought, he was glad of the light that it cast as they made their way deeper into the bowels of the ancient building. The room that they finally arrived at surprised them both in that it was the first room that they had entered that contained nothing at all. No rotting remains of furniture or fixtures attached to the wall, nothing.

  Cal looked round before becoming aware that Astridson had strode straight to the blank looking far wall. Tamala regarded him for a moment before she joined him.

  “I can only think of two reasons for what you appear to be doing.” She looked the Galorn straight in the eyes. “You either work for whoever stands in our way, or you know more about what is happening than you let on.”

  Astridson smiled. “I haven’t turned you in have I? Perhaps you could give me a hand, I’m assuming that you know travelling chant?”

  “Of course.” She sounded indignant as she replied, so taken aback that she didn’t ask the obvious question as to how he had known she was a magic user.

  Astridson began a low chant of his own which to Cal’s eyes appeared to do nothing at all. For Tamala however, the effect was profound. The entire wall appeared to begin to glow with power. She saw Astridson glance at her and suddenly remembered his request.

  Cal heard her begin a second chant that appeared to be lighter in tone, though he still couldn’t understand a word that was spoken. Before his eyes he saw the wall appear to dissolve, being replaced with what looked for all the world like the shimmering entrance to a mist filled gorge flanked by two massive oaks.

  Astridson turned his attention to the younger man and nodded in the general direction of the trees. Still shocked, Cal looked to Tamala for guidance, only to see that she was concentrating fully on what she was doing. He could also see that the energy draining from her life force had already aged her by ten or fifteen years.

  Without another thought Cal stepped through the slight shimmer and found that he was indeed stood before the two giant trees. Less than two seconds later Tamala also appeared, closely followed by Astridson.

  Tamala looked with amazement at the entrance to the gorge but was unable to say anything. Cal, on the other hand, felt that he had a lot to say but Astridson just held up a hand.

  “It can wait. First we need to get inside the gorge and introduce you to the others.”

  “Others. What others? Where are we?”

  “Agorel.” Tamala’s voice was quiet, full of wonder. “How did we travel so far, the power needed would be incredible?”

  “Later. Stand over there.” Astridson pointed to a spot midway between the two ancient oaks and moved to his own position slightly in front of them.

  “Elder Guardians, hear the voice of your son. Grant entrance to friends of the greater good and watch over them so that they may thrive.” The invocation was spoken in a monotone, no trace of emotion could be heard, though Cal felt certain that there was more to it than that.

  Before he could complete the thought he saw two figures approaching from out of the mist. Both were clad in mottled brown hooded cloaks and tall, approaching six inches past six feet, moving with a catlike litheness that suddenly put Cal in mind of Astridson.

  “You’re a Lighter!”

  Astridson grinned at the young man before answering. “I bring you to the entrance of the home of the Lighter people, chant an invocation so that you may enter safely, and use thought alone to summon a welcoming party, yet it is only when you see that we look similar that you decide that I might be one.

  Gods, I hope you’re not always this slow.”

  “He might be, but I’m not.” Cal cringed at the sarcasm that Tamala managed to throw into her voice despite their current situation. “I think that we need to speak to the Light.”

  “As you wish.” The voice came from the left hand Lighter of the pair that had approached from the gorge itself. “What can I do for you?”

  Tamala gasped at the response.

  Cal sat on a shaped log near to a medium sized cooking fire about thirty feet inside the entrance of a large cave. The interior held all the trappings of accommodation though none of what Cal had expected from the Lighters. In his mind’s eye he had pictured exquisitely fashioned homes carved of ivory coloured crystal with ornate decoration spread liberally about.

  He had expected to see the Lighter people walking proudly erect in long flowing gowns of all manner of cloth and colour. In fact, he had wholly expected that if he ever met the People of the Light he would meet them within the most spectacular city the world had ever known.

  He was sorely disappointed.

  The people he saw moving around the interior of the cave and just outside were dressed in well-used woodland garb of leathers and animal skins. Most of them were covered in dirt and looked little more than peasants. The few horses he had seen were being used by people to carry goods, not to be ridden triumphantly through the streets.

  He returned his attention to Tamala, sat just to his right, staring distractedly into the fire.

  “Not what you had expected either?”

  She looked up from her thoughts. “The stories we were told, all the tales, this can’t be true.” The disbelief in her voice hurt Cal to hear. Without thinking he put his
arm around her shoulder.

  “Look at it this way, they got us away from Mid’gra.” His faint smile was forced.

  “But how? Astridson, if that’s his name, used his powers only to hold the image, not to actually travel.” She noticed that a distracted look had come across Cal’s face. “What’s the matter?”

  Cal snapped his attention back to her. “Sorry. Just thinking that it could take some getting used to going to bed on an evening with the woman I love after you’ve had a hard day conducting some research or other.”

  Puzzled, Tamala raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

  “Well, you could look like my grandmother when you get home.”

  “Bastard!” Cal easily ducked the punch that was thrown at him and rolled off of the log to come lightly to his feet a couple of yards away.

  “My Lady, temper, temper.”

  Both of them had a good laugh before a voice interrupted them from behind. “It is good to see that you maintain your spirits.”

  Cal spun to face the source of the voice to see Astridson stood watching them.

  “The Light wishes to see you. If you will follow me?”

  Without waiting for a response he turned toward the entrance to the cave and started toward the failing afternoon daylight. Torches had already been lit when they had arrived within the cave and Cal had lost track of how much time had in fact passed, so he was slightly surprised as they made their way out to realise that only an hour or so of the day remained. The mist that had swirled loosely through the gorge earlier had thickened and it was now difficult to see more than twenty or so paces ahead but Astridson strode with sure purpose as he led them across the gorge floor.

  Cal had noted earlier that the gorge opened out considerably once past the two trees at its entrance, the small community they had been brought to being situated at least half a mile along it, but that the height of the cliffs surrounding them had remained fairly constant, even so he was sure that they should already have met the far wall.