Fall of a Kingdom

by Michael Greenfield

  Farsighter and Esbet shared a quick look, neither voicing the joint opinion that this didn’t bode well.

  “Please, take a seat.” Westrom signalled to two pages stood near the door who brought three simple chairs across.

  “I’ll stand if you don’t mind.” Dorrin gave Farsighter a quizzical glance but said nothing as the veteran warrior took up a position just behind and to the right of him.

  Westrom cleared his throat slightly nervously. “Very well,” he turned to the assembled councillors. “If you might give us a few minutes, with the exception of Master Harrigan and Madam Kaal.”

  The six of them waited as the other councillors left the chambers, grumbling just loudly enough to make it clear that they were not happy with the situation, before Westrom slumped back in his chair. He stole a quick glance at his colleagues before saying anything, giving the others a chance to study them.

  Harrigan looked the part of an elderly provincial council leader. His silver, thinning hair topped a podgy, slightly cherubic face. He had the look of confidence that gave the impression that he must also be a successful businessman, explaining his current position, and the fine quality of his clothing confirmed that impression.

  Madam Kaal on the other hand was not what they would have expected from a local islander, even if the surname hadn’t given away her origin of Leefs’elm. In her mid-thirties, her long blonde hair was tied back in an intricate braid, complimenting her slim face and ice blue eyes perfectly. Her own clothing was also of a fine quality, though the cut was slightly plainer than Harrigan’s.

  “May I present Master Sigmund Harrigan, and Madam Edir Kaal. Sigmund is the current head of the Council, whilst Edir is someone I think you might want to talk to at some stage.” The three men nodded their acknowledgement of the introduction.

  “I’m informed that you’ve just arrived from Ren, and have no idea what is going on.” He waited to see if any of them would respond. Aside from Farsighter shifting his weight slightly, there was none.

  “Then I guess I need to explain a few things before I hand over command of the garrison.”

  “What!” Dorrin was half out of his seat. “What do you mean ‘hand over the garrison’?”

  Westrom held up his hand to prevent the outburst continuing. “Relax, I’m not handing it over to the J’Dar, I’m handing it over to you.”

  Esbet spoke next. “But you’re the ranking officer.”

  “Yes, and I’m sure Dorrin told you that as an officer I’m not overly bright but can get the job done.” The embarrassed silence was all the answer required.

  “Unfortunately, if I’m being honest with myself, his assessment is correct. My strength is organisation, not improvisation. The reason I’m here is as a logistics officer, not a battle leader, but I’m afraid that’s what we now need.”

  “You’re expecting an attack?”

  Westrom laughed. “My dear Dorrin, you can stick to the ‘I don’t know anything’ story,” he stole a quick glance at Madam Kaal who nodded briefly, “but Edir here has already informed me of your movements over the last few weeks.”

  Farsighter’s hand dropped to his sword, the blade half clearing the scabbard before he realised that all three of the people sat on the opposite side of the table were trying hard not to laugh at him.

  His ears detected no tell-tale sounds of troops rushing down corridors to attack them from the rear, no strumming of bow or crossbow strings. In fact, nothing out of the ordinary at all.

  “My apologies Master Farsighter,” Farsighter ignored the fact that Dorrin hadn’t introduced him, “but it’s not quite what you just thought.

  May I present Edir Kaal, Emissary for His Majesty King Otur Maargsson of Leefs’elm.”

  Farsighter acknowledged the woman with a slight nod as he regained his position behind the others.

  As those on the other side of the table still appeared to find the situation amusing, Dorrin cleared his throat to draw their attention back to the serious topic of discussion.

  “Perhaps Madam Kaal would like to explain how she comes to know our movements over the last few weeks?” There was just a hint of an edge to his voice, something that Farsighter and Esbet picked up on, though of the others Kaal appeared to be the only one to notice.

  “Please allow me to apologise Dorrin, I forget myself sometimes.

  My husband was Gulaf Kaal, I’m sure that you know the name.” Indeed Dorrin did know the name. Gulaf Kaal had been long suspected of being the head of King Maargsson’s intelligence service until reports arrived that he had been killed in a ‘hunting accident’. An accident that had seemed far too convenient to some observers as rumours had it that he was investigating claims against several high ranking lords at the time.

  “It would appear that some of his closer advisors still feel the need to pass along any tit-bit of information that they come across. Though quite why they bother is beyond my comprehension.” The last was said with the airy incomprehension of some empty headed courtesan.

  “Is that so? Well, who am I to argue if a lady still has the confidences of her husband’s friends.”

  “Quite. It would appear that your little party has managed to cause quite a stir in some quarters.”

  “Party?”

  “Come now,” she glanced theatrically around the table, “everyone here is as trustworthy as we get in these times. Master Harrigan has long held the confidence of someone the King listened to, the same as you if I’m not much mistaken.

  Captain Westrom must have at least suspected something from the amount of time you spend away from official duties, and your own party must know.”

  Silence held sway in the room for several seconds before Dorrin appeared to come to a decision.

  “Well, as you appear to know so much, I guess it’s pointless trying to deny it. That said, you still took a risk revealing that much. What would have happened if you were in fact the target of some sort of deception?”

  An icy smile crossed the Helmer’s face, “Then I would have had to ensure that my secret stayed that way, nothing personal.”

  J’dar

  Myriana lay dozing in the stifling heat. The pallet she had hurriedly formed from the pieces of junk and cloth that she shared the back of the caravan that she now occupied was barely comfortable for that purpose, but exhaustion could make the least comfortable surroundings at the very least bearable.

  The journey north-east from Miri seemed to be taking forever, though in reality she had been in the caravan for only just over a week. She couldn’t even complain about the bumpy ride normally associated with caravan travel as the sand they now travelled over smoothed the ride out significantly.

  Her captors also seemed to have relaxed things a little, though realistically there was nowhere for her to try and escape to in the middle of the desert. It could be weeks between watering holes, and very few of them were known to those outside the ranks of the J’dar tribesmen.

  During the evenings she was allowed to take a short walk, always escorted, and now that she had been passed to the J’dar she also found that she was treated with slightly more respect than the Shalers had given her. The tribal leader heading the group escorting her insisted upon her presence for the evening meal, even to the point of ignoring custom and allowing her to sit at the front with the men. She had heard several of them comment on this fact, and obviously they weren’t all agreeing with their leaders actions.

  This brought about something else that helped pass the time, and secretly gave Myriana a great deal of pleasure. None of the J’dar realised that she spoke their language.

  Their leader, and one or two others, had gone to great lengths to try and impress her with their grasp of the language of the coastal kingdoms, and she had struggled to hide her amusement as they obviously had been very poorly taught.

  Quite often she overheard talk of the ‘Southern Campaign’ as they called it, and after weeks of not knowing what was happening at home, she suddenly found herself with
a ready source of information. A source she intended to put to good use.

  She had no idea how, but she knew that with what she had been hearing, she needed to find a way back as soon as humanly possible.

  Alliances

  Dorrin and Farsighter stared intently at the map spread across the table in front of them. They had already sent runners to the Hurricane to let them know that they might be some time and not to worry, as well as requesting the presence of the first mate, Riga Nadran. The first mate’s presence was requested once Esbet mentioned that he used to be a sergeant in the King’s army. Now the four of them stood around the main table in the council chamber, along with Madam Kaal and Westrom, whilst the Helmer noblewoman updated them on the current position as she understood it from her sources.

  “So, the Shalers are content to sit south-west of Holdur whilst the J’dar push toward Bor’a? Why aren’t they pushing toward Joorat?” Farsighter stood away from the table, huffing his discontent at not knowing the answers to the many questions he had. They actually had two maps on the table at the moment, one of just Boraan and the other covering all of the coastal nations.

  Nadran was still keenly observing the map. “Obviously they feel they’ve nothing to fear from M’ur, else the Shaler wouldn’t have trusted the J’dar to cover their flank, and we know from our own observation that they have nothing to fear from Galorn, so I have to agree, there is no logical reason for them to have stopped.

  I’m assuming that Her Majesty’s army has started to regroup here,” he pointed to a spot on the map several days north of Joorat, then glanced toward Madam Kaal for the confirmation he received by way of a slight nod, “in which case they should be ready to strike back at the main Shaler force within the next few days.

  Support from Joorat will ensure that any surprises they might meet will get a nasty shock themselves,” the reference to Dorrin’s own encounter with the Mythraan wasn’t missed, “all I can see is a very bleak future for the invading side.”

  He glanced toward Farsighter’s apprehensive form, “You’re right Sir, there’s absolutely no rational reason for the current position of things, and that is not a situation I’ve been taught to like.”

  Dorrin nodded his agreement, “It sounds as if you had a very good teacher Sergeant,” Riga winced at the change in his official title, “but none of this gives me the slightest clue as to what we should be doing.

  I can’t believe that they will just sit still and await annihilation. It has to be some sort of trap, but I just don’t see it. If only we still had Luda or Collett with us.”

  Riga cracked a slight smile, “If it’s any consolation Sir, I think they’d probably wish they were with us at the moment as well.”

  Dorrin returned the smile, “True. Well M’lady,” he swung his gaze to the Helmer, “how fairs your own charming land amongst all this strife?”

  Edir smiled broadly at the courtly tone Dorrin used before replying. “As of a week ago there appears to have been no incursions into Leefs’elm itself. The High Steads are reporting no unusual activity anywhere near the borders with the J’dar at all, though we have had reports of concentrations of small bands to the far north.”

  Dorrin looked slightly puzzled by that. “The far north?”

  “Dear Dorrin, we haven’t the slightest idea about that either, though you can rest assured that we have some of our best scouts ascertaining their intentions this very moment.”

  “I admit it M’lady. I would be very grateful if you would appraise me of any findings concerning these northern bands should you receive any information.”

  “Of course.” Edir paused momentarily, “Your tone has become worryingly formal Dorrin.”

  “So it should. As you are aware, my travelling companions and I have been seeking assistance in returning Myriana to her throne, though things have not gone as well as we might have hoped.

  Things are now travelling far too quickly for the abilities of our people alone. We see a major invasion of our own country, neighbouring realms already usurped of legitimate authority and forces beginning to array against the only remaining independent state in the region.

  On our own, I don’t think we can prevail.” Riga seemed ready to protest the statement but Farsighter’s glance was enough to stem any outburst. Dorrin nodded his thanks.

  “Technically I rank as a senior member of the court only, as I’m sure you’re aware, though it has fallen to myself at times to carry out some negotiating on behalf of the crown.” There was a definite look of irony about Dorrin as he spoke. “Were Collett still with us he would have the official weight to make my request on a more formal standing, but unfortunately he is not.”

  Dorrin paused for a moment, almost visibly drawing a deep breath before continuing. “M’Lady, would you be so kind as to pass my good wishes to your King, and place a formal request before him from the court of Queen Myriana, asking for aid against what we believe to be a common foe?”

  It was only once Dorrin stopped speaking that Farsighter realised that he had been holding his own breath. He let it out with an audible whistle, realised what he had done, and then began to blush when everyone looked at him.

  “Well, I’m not used to these affairs of state. What do you expect from an old man.” Abruptly they were all laughing, the tension from the previous few minutes dissipating rapidly as Farsighter regarded them with an uncharacteristic grin.

  Still smiling Edir cast her gaze to include all at the table. “I was not given the authority to enter into any binding agreements, but I see no reason why we cannot provide an escort for the Hurricane and it’s envoys to Talek, where you can provide this formal request in person.”

  She paused a moment before continuing, “I think it’s safe to say that your request will be met with approval, especially since if the King doesn’t agree I happen to know where a great many of his skeletons are hidden.”

  Dorrin looked slightly taken aback. “Why would you press so hard to gain the King’s agreement?”

  “Don’t worry my dear Dorrin; it’s not sentiment that pushes me to help you as I can but simple logic.

  We won’t side with the J’dar and Shaler forces, so we must face them at some point. Much better to face them where the destruction will be to someone else’s lands than our own, don’t you think?”

  Dorrin laughed, “Unfortunately I do, just a shame that the lands in question happen to belong to my cousin.” Turning serious he spoke to Esbet, “How long to Talek?”

  “With favourable winds we should be able to make port in a few days past two weeks.”

  “Then I don’t see that we have much choice, we’ll have to rely on Collett to rescue Her Majesty whilst we do what we can to rescue her country. Well Nega,” he gave Westrom an almost pitying smile, “I guess you’ll have to stay in charge here for a while yet.

  If it’s any conciliation I was once told by an esteemed veteran that the best officers are always the ones that know there limits, you know your limits.

  Use the men you’ve got around you. I’m sure with a little bit of thought you should be able to come up with suitably interesting ways of ensuring that our enemy have a miserable time whilst we fetch aid.”

  Westrom didn’t look at all sure if he agreed with Dorrin, but he nodded nonetheless.

  The North

  Cal was speechless. He’d heard stories from travellers who described the mountains that separated the coastal lands from the harsh desert of the north, but he had never fully believed them until this moment.

  They had set out from Agorel two days previously, having spent two weeks waiting for Asrak to agree that Tamala was suitably comfortable with her new powers so that she wouldn’t be a danger to herself, but poor weather had prevented them from seeing much more than what was right before their eyes. As their third morning dawned on the trail, heading for the pass that would lead them to the edge of the J’dar desert, the sky almost glistened with a crystal blue clarity that took the breath away.


  Framed perfectly by the slopes of the wide valley they were currently making their way along were the icy peaks of Galorn’s northern mountains.

  Astridson caught the look on Cal’s face. “Beautiful is it not?”

  Tamala smiled at the question. “I remember the first time I saw the mountains myself, nothing quite prepares you for the size of them.” She nudged Halsturm alongside Cal and Maris, “Perhaps I can arrange for our estate to be in the foothills so that we can see them every day?”

  Cal sighed, “I think we might be getting a little ahead of ourselves, but at the same time I think that might also be a wonderful idea,” he grinned at the young magic user “just so long as there’s a lake nearby and plenty of woods, then at least I can go hunting and fishing if I get bored of the view.”

  He started to duck even before Tamala’s arm lashed out. “Bored of the view! I’ll give you bored of the view.”

  “Hush!” The interruption from Astridson silenced the pair of them as they both turned to regard the Lighter. His eyes were carefully scanning the valley spreading back behind them. “Riders!”

  Cal eye’s turned toward the direction they were heading, urgently looking for concealment but nothing was available to them. The lush grass of the high valleys was ideal for summer grazing, but offered little in the way of hiding places.

  “Would any of the Lighters be following us?”

  “No.” Astridson gazed more intently, “Especially not in chain mail, ride.”

  Their Makkisen steeds needed no further urging as they sped immediately into a loping gallop that ate up the distance to the end of the valley, a good mile and a half ahead of them.

  “Do you think they saw us,” Call called above the rush of the wind as they raced along.

  “Impossible to tell until we stop.” Tamala risked a backward glance but was jostled about too much by their flight to be able to make out anything of any use.