Fall of a Kingdom

by Michael Greenfield

  It will be relatively easy to see to see if merchants are preparing for the arrival of a caravan, but more difficult to find out about the one we want.”

  Cal looked slightly unsure so Tamala took up the conversation. “It’s likely the Queen’s caravan won’t be bringing any items for sale, so most of the merchants probably won’t have been told of it’s approach. Or if they have, they won’t really be that interested.

  No, that probably won’t be the biggest problem we’ll have.” They both looked at the red-head. “Our biggest problem could be that we’ve missed the caravan.

  Then we’ll need to decide what to do. A chancy rescue from Churek is a vastly different proposition to trying to infiltrate Mythra and do something there.”

  Astridson nodded. “It’s not going to help much speculating any further until we’ve got more information to work with.

  I don’t know about you but I’m for eating some food and then sleep. I think we may not get much in the days to follow.”

  Late afternoon the following day brought the group finally within sight of Churek. From the slight rise they had crested the small town was laid out ahead of them and in the distance, they could see the start of the Wraiths’ Wall. The vast forest that separated the lands of Mythra from the rest of the Kingdoms.

  Starting somewhere up in the northern reaches of the land it stretched down to the mountains before swinging east to the shores of the Middle Sea.

  Cal had always been comfortable in the woods but the one he saw in the distance filled him with foreboding.

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to try and travel through that.” His eyes scanned from horizon to horizon as he spoke.

  “You’ll get no argument from me on that one,” Astridson leaned back, stretching as they rode, “let’s pray whatever caravan Her Majesty is with is still behind us.

  We need to get to town and find somewhere to stay. Then we need to establish ourselves before we start poking around.”

  “Agreed.” Tamala spoke quietly, also taken in by the view ahead. “I think we should try and get two rooms if possible, with you and Cal taking one whilst I keep one to myself.

  Much as I hate the idea,” she smiled at Cal, “I don’t think our ‘factor’ would be happy if I was sleeping with your apprentice.”

  Both Cal and Astridson laughed at the comment.

  “We’ll see what we can do.”

  Just over an hour later they were entering the town of Churek. People were hurrying through the streets finishing chores before they could finish up for the day and head back to wherever they called home.

  Although it was busy, it wasn’t significantly overcrowded. Cal could see plenty of stores and shops still trading but he almost smiled at the thought of how his attitudes had changed in such a relatively short time. The boy who had left Fallon’s Glen just a few months ago would have been astounded at sights of what would have been a relatively large town compared to his prior experiences.

  Tamala noticed the look on his face. “Things change.”

  “Mind reading?”

  “No,” she laughed, “I remember your reactions at Nibar’a and Mid’gra. Not quite the village country boy anymore.”

  They stopped at a reasonably respectable store and Astridson dismounted Kosmiir to ask the storekeeper where they might find a reasonable inn to stay at. Cal and Tamala waited patiently for the Lighter to return, watching the flow of the crowd from their mounts.

  It was few minutes later that Astridson returned, a wide smile plastered across his face.

  “There’s an inn a couple of streets over that our friend in the shop recommends, mainly because his brother runs it, but it sounds reasonable.

  He also told me that it’s popular with merchants, so we should be able to find out what we need to know without too much trouble.”

  Kosmiir sniggered as Astridson mounted him. “It doesn’t strike you as a bit convenient?” After spending a few weeks with the Makkisen Cal no longer even thought about the strangeness of the horse-like steeds communicating by thought straight into his mind.

  “After the amount of bad luck our friends have had,” he nodded toward Cal and Tamala, “I’ll take any good fortune we can get.”

  Cal agreed whole heartedly and was also looking forward to sleeping in something better than the bed-roll he had been using during their trip through the mountains.

  It only took a few minutes to reach the inn that Astridson had been told of. A small stable behind the inn was manned by a young stable-boy who took the reins to the Makkisen and led them to the covered stable. It had already been agreed before they reached Churek they would have to pretend to be normal horses whilst they were in the town.

  Kosmiir wasn’t happy at the idea, demeaning was his reaction, but he could see the need to maintain some semblance of anonymity.

  Inside the inn Cal spied a portly looking middle-aged man behind the bar who they assumed was the owner. The bar area itself was fairly quiet at the moment and he brightened visibly as they approached.

  “Good afternoon friends, how may I help you?”

  Astridson took the lead, in his guise of a merchant. “We’ll need a couple of rooms. One for myself and my apprentice, one for our companion,” he indicated Tamala.

  “Of course, sir, may I ask for how long you’ll need them.” The innkeeper understood that the length of merchant’s stay could easily be dictated by any one of several different factors.

  “Several days at least. We’ll pay for a week and then see how things stand.”

  “Of course.

  I’m Horst, owner of this humble establishment.”

  “Seliir, my apprentice Harron and our factor’s representative Chelena.

  Your brother recommended yourself to us, you should thank him. Add the price of a bottle of something pleasant to the price and be sure to share some of it with him.”

  Horst laughed, a resoundingly loud belly laugh that almost made Cal jump.

  “I’ll be sure to. Now as to the cost of those rooms.”

  Astridson and Horst spent a few minutes haggling over the price, Astridson driving a hard bargain though he sweetened the deal by adding the price of a nice bottle of Galorn wine for the innkeeper and his brother to enjoy together later.

  They took their travel packs up to the rooms that had been indicated as theirs for the next week, and once Tamala had put hers into the room they all entered the room Cal and Astridson would share.

  Tamala spoke first, “Will a week be long enough?”

  “I’ve no idea,” Astridson answered, “but until we’ve had a chance to gain some information, we won’t even be able to make an educated guess.

  It’s not unusual for a trader to change plans at a moments notice, and Horst is fully aware of that.

  We might as well stick to the inn for tonight and then head for the markets tomorrow and see what we can find out.”

  “Sounds reasonable.” Tamala stretched. “I’m going to see if there’s a steam room or something nearby and freshen up before we settle down for the evening.”

  She made a display of sniffing the air before adding, “You might do well to follow the example.” Playfully she pushed Cal backward, laughing before she left the room.

  “What could she possibly mean?” he said, smelling his own clothing before wrinkling his nose against the odour of a couple of weeks travelling.

  The evening had passed pleasantly, none of them mentioning the reason for them being in Churek as they chatted and ate. Cal and Astridson had taken Tamala’s hint and the three of them had found a small sauna on the next street where they had cleansed the dust from their travels and relaxed as much as they could.

  Morning seemed to come all too quickly for Cal who had been pleasantly surprised at the comfort of the cot he had collapsed onto the night before.

  Quickly dressing he headed downstairs to see what was being offered as a morning meal by the innkeeper, or whether it was worth seeing if there was some more appeti
sing street food available.

  As it was the inn offered a decent selection of smoked sausage, breads and porridge. More than ample for Cal’s tastes.

  As he sat, waiting for the others to join him, he took note of the other customers now rapidly beginning to fill the room. There were a few that looked obviously like mercenaries, swords and chainmail openly on display. They also seemed to be partaking of ale even though it was still early.

  Several merchants were also sat at various tables and he could hear them giving instructions to their own apprentices involving carrying messages back and forward. It seemed strange to the youngster that from everything he could see before him, you’d find it difficult to believe the strife he had left behind in Boraan. Everything seemed so normal.

  Motion out of the corner of his eye drew his attention as Tamala came down the stairs to the room with Astridson a step behind her. He waved to draw their attention and motioned for Horst to send a serving girl with some more breakfast.

  They both nodded their thanks as the young girl arrived with a platter of sausage and bread at the same moment as they reached the table. They took their seats and rapidly added some of the hot food to their plates.

  Waiting for them to at least get their first mouthful swallowed, Cal spoke as they ate. “What’s the plan for the day?”

  “The markets for us I think, and maybe a shopping trip for ‘Chelena’,” Astridson replied. “We need to find out what’s happening.

  I’ve got some gold upstairs for you to use,” he looked at Tamala, “enough to at least give the impression that you’re reasonably affluent.

  Cal and myself shouldn’t need much as we’ll only be sounding out the market and looking for ‘potential opportunities’. We shouldn’t need any gold initially for any discussions we have.”

  They quickly finished their meal and returned to their rooms to grab cloaks and the money that Astridson was providing.

  “Dare I ask where you got this.” Tamala still took the offered pouch even as she asked the question.

  Astridson held both hands up as he answered, “Nothing dodgy, I swear. The Light supplied it to me before we left Agorel. He thought that we might find ourselves needing some.”

  They went their separate ways as soon as Tamala had pocketed the pouch. Cal and Astridson headed toward the west of the town, where the caravan markets were, whilst Tamala headed toward the town centre.

  It didn’t take long for the pair to reach the markets. Here, Cal saw that most of the haggling was being conducted by paler skinned Galorn and a few traders from M’ur. Most of the manual labour around the area seemed to be being carried out by more local, dark skinned, J’dar tribesman who must have traded their nomadic, desert life for a more settled one in the town.

  Astridson scanned the scene for a moment before starting toward one of the nearby merchants.

  Leefs’elm

  Dorrin felt better now they were back on dry land. The trip from Mor Drek to Talek, the capital of the northern kingdom had taken just over two weeks. Two weeks that had involved some of the worst weather Dorrin had ever had the mis-fortune to sail through.

  Thankful that they had managed to reach port more or less in one piece, Dorrin now stared at Farsighter across the table they both sat at. Edir had led them to a waiting carriage the day before, which had rapidly taken them through the port town to the keep that served as King Maargsson’s seat of power.

  Though it chafed both men, they had agreed to wait for the following day before they spoke to the King. Now Dorrin fretted over what he was going to say and whether it would have the impact he desired. Despite Edir’s proclamation that she was confident that she would be able to convince the King to throw his forces toward the defence of Boraan he would be much happier when the deal was actually done.

  Farsighter outwardly seemed to be taking things a lot more calmly than his younger companion. He quietly ate breakfast, keeping his thoughts to himself.

  “Have you decided just how much you’re going to tell Maargsson yet?”

  Dorrin leant back slightly as he pondered the answer. “To be honest, I think Edir will already have passed on much of what we’ve got to say. I don’t really see the point of holding anything back, not if we want his full support when we move to retake the Kingdom.”

  “Agreed. I want to get this done and get back to Joorat with a firm commitment to alliance, so we can get back to the job of saving the Kingdom.”

  Dorrin smiled. “I think you’ll find that what we’re doing does indeed constitute working toward saving the Kingdom. It’s just taking slightly longer than we thought.”

  Farsighter laughed at that. “Slightly longer? I left Fallon’s Glen believing that I would be back there by now and Cal would be well into his training.”

  They both fell silent for a moment at the mention of Cal’s name, before Farsighter continued. “I just wish I knew what happened. Were they captured, did they escape? It’s the lack of knowledge that tries my patience. Not the task ahead of us.

  I’m confident that we can restore the kingdom, with a little help, but what are we restoring it to? We’ve no idea whether Myriana has been rescued, where she is.

  I just wish we knew a little more than we do.”

  Dorrin reached out and rested his hand on the old warrior’s arm. “We trust them to do what’s necessary. We must believe that they’ve managed to complete the task entrusted to them, because if they don’t there’s the god-awful risk that some fool might try and pass the throne to me.

  Gods, that really would be a disaster for the Kingdom.”

  Both men burst out laughing at Dorrin’s statement. Just at that moment Edir strolled into the room. At the sight of the mirthful pair she smiled herself.

  “And to what do we owe this cheerful attitude this morning?”

  Farsighter waved at Dorrin, “My young friend here has just pointed out that if we fail in our tasks, there’s a very real chance that he might become king.”

  “Gods, I’d better go warn His Majesty immediately.” She half turned before starting to laugh herself. “I think it might be in all of our interests that we make sure you return to Boraan with some good news then.”

  “You’ll hear no complaint from me.” Dorrin smiled back at the blonde Helmer, “When can we expect our audience with the King?”

  “He’s been north for the last few days, so he’s got several matters to attend to first, but he’s already agreed to meet you after the midday meal and I’ve spoken with his chancellor so you should have as long as you need.”

  “Our thanks Edir. We’ll be ready.”

  The two of them stood outside the doors to King Maargsson’s throne room, waiting to be called in. Dorrin fidgeted whilst Farsighter smiled. He’d seen similar reactions from soldiers on the eve of battle but had never thought to relate it to some of the meetings he had routinely tried to avoid attending. Nerves were nerves, he guessed.

  One of the large doors opened slightly and a page motioned for them to come through.

  They followed him through into a large hall, decked with clan flags mounted down either side, leading to the throne itself at the far end. Surrounded by courtiers and advisors, King Maargsson of Leefs’elm sat quietly observing the pair as they approached. To his immediate right stood a tall, thin man, well dressed and seemingly sure of himself. His head was held high and he obviously considered his voice probably the second most important in this room. Dorrin could feel an instant dislike for him as he looked too arrogant for is tastes.

  Slightly to the left of the throne, in the dim shadow behind it, stood Edir. Her stance was completely different and yet also very similar. There was the self-confidence shown by the first man, but the stance was also deferential. She appeared to be waiting for a task, whilst the other seemed almost overly eager to have his say.

  Maargsson stood and the room quietened. He was not a big man, standing a couple of inches less than six feet, but he had the look of a man that knew how to use wh
at power he had. His long, dark blonde hair was left loose, not tied back as was the norm amongst most Helmers. A plain, gold band encircled his head, decorated with a plain white enamelled bear at it’s front.

  In a strong, deep voice he spoke.

  “Friends, if you would be so kind as to give me some privacy for a short while. I wish to discus a few things with our guests.” He nodded toward Dorrin and Farsighter.

  “Kels, if you would be kind enough to stay.” He didn’t say anything to Edir, but she made no move to leave with the others. Despite the King’s polite wording of the request the response was immediate. This was a man completely in control of his court.

  The two of them stopped before the throne and gave the King a short bow. Maargsson nodded in reply, motioning for them to speak.

  Dorrin took the lead, as they had already agreed between them that he was the one the held the most rank and therefore credibility.

  “Majesty, I believe you understand that I am unable to present the normal greetings of my Queen to yourself on her behalf.”

  “If you mean that you are as yet unaware as to where exactly she is, or even whether she’s able to rule?” He smiled to take the edge from the statement, “Yes Lord Dorrin, I am aware. I believe that several of the normal protocols will be getting ignored for this meeting.” He glanced at Edir who nodded in return.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.” He motioned toward Farsighter. “I don’t believe you’ve met my companion formally, though I think some of your southern Commanders may know him.”

  The king looked curious, obviously Edir had not made him aware of all the details of their party.

  “May I present Magron Farsighter, former commander of the Rangers. You may have heard of him.”

  “The Old Wolf, now that’s a name even in far Talek we’ve heard. Is it still Master Farsighter or have you been re-enlisted?”

  Farsighter grinned, “I think we’re still deciding, but whilst we decide I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least lend a hand.”