Fall of a Kingdom

by Michael Greenfield

  He replaced the canvas as best he could and then started to move round to the other side of the tent. He had barely taken a step when he froze, Tamala almost bumping into him as he did.

  Just a few yards from them a guard moved between the tent they hid next to and the next one they wanted to investigate. Neither of them dared breathe for the moment as he passed a few feet from them, completely unaware of their presence.

  Waiting a moment to be sure he had moved on, once again the pair began moving toward the next tent. They both stepped briefly into the light as they passed between the two but were soon engulfed by shadow again.

  Again, Astridson carefully mad a small incision in the canvas and peeked in.

  The interior was dimly lit, and this time he could see a figure tossing fitfully under light covers as she slept. He motioned Tamala forward to have a look herself, as he had never seen Myriana before and so wouldn’t know for definite if it was the young Queen that lay there.

  Tamala’s breath caught as she looked in. Almost at the same moment Myriana sat straight up from her sleeping pallet. She glanced around, but from where she sat was unable to see the slit in the side of the tent.

  Tamala leant back and whispered, “That’s her.”

  “Let her know who we are, we don’t want her calling for unwanted help.”

  Tamala concentrated a moment, then Astridson suddenly heard sobbing from behind the canvas. The young sorceress smiled.

  “Don’t worry, they’re tears of relief.”

  Astridson nodded and then began to make the small hole into a larger one. Seconds later Tamala leant through it and waved briefly to the Queen.

  “Majesty, quickly.”

  The queen rapidly grabbed her clothes and flung them on in quick, hasty movements. Astridson kept an eye out as he waited, though it was not long before movement immediately inside the tent let him know the Queen was ready.

  “Tamala, is it really you?” The young queen could scarcely contain her excitement. “Who’s with you, how many?”

  “Hush Majesty, we’ll explain as soon as we’re safe.” Her face broke into a great smile, “I’m so glad to see you well.” They hugged as soon as they were both clear of the tent, then turned to kneel next to Astridson.

  “Majesty, this is Franc Astridson. He’s helping us.”

  Astridson gave a brief, if a bit stunted, bow due to there position, before he signalled that they should pass back to the outer tents. Both ladies followed him, both looking all about them as they did.

  When they reached the last tent, the Lighter stopped abruptly. Where there had been only three guards earlier, they could now see half a dozen stood in a small group, all appeared to be alert and watchful.

  “Damn, can you let Cal know we might need his assistance.”

  Tamala was silent a moment, whilst Myriana watched her curiously. “He already knows. He’s been waiting for us to appear before he starts drawing their attention.”

  “Drawing their attention?”

  Cal was laid prone atop a small rise slightly north of the camp. He could clearly see the group of guards that were the cause of Astridson’s concern. He could also see his two friends with another figure, crouched tightly against one of the tents.

  “Well,” he whispered to himself, “Let’s see how good I’m really getting at this.”

  He rose to a kneeling position, raising his bow and nocking his first arrow in one fluid movement. As before, he felt an icy calm flow through his body as he sighted on a guard toward the rear of the group.

  He wanted to stop several guards where they stood, but he also wanted them to see which direction the attack was coming from. He loosed the arrow almost without realising he had even done so. His right hand flicked back to his quiver and drew another, rapidly replacing the first and drawing on a new target. He didn’t need to see that the first had found its target, he knew beyond doubt that it hadn’t missed.

  The first guard he had launched at grunted as the arrow thudded home. He was dropping even before his colleagues turned to stare at him, their eyes wide with shock. The heavy sound of the second arrow striking home and a strangled cry from the victim galvanized them into action.

  As they turned to the direction of the attack and started to raise the alarm a third missile struck. The remaining guards dove for cover, none of them seeing the three figures behind them that made a quick dash to the cover of the scrub away from the camp.

  More J’dar were reacting to the cries of alarm rising from the hiding guards. Cal launched another arrow just to keep heads down before turning and sprinting directly away from the pursuit that was rapidly forming behind him.

  Looping his bow over his head and shoulder he settled in to a steady rhythm as he searched for some of the rock beds he had seen whilst scouting the area earlier.

  Less than ten minutes later he saw one and angled toward it. He turned abruptly east as he felt the harder surface beneath him and after just a few minutes found some small boulders he could duck behind.

  He waited, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself whilst he watched for the J’dar warriors he knew would be chasing. Moments passed and then abruptly he heard voices. He knelt perfectly still as he watched first one, then several others pass just to the east of his position.

  He gave it a few minutes after they’d passed before he slowly rose and started to the west.

  Myriana was healthy and fit, but the suddenness with which she had started running with the other two quickly began to take its toll. Although she didn’t ask for any assistance, Astridson eased the pace a bit. He knew it wasn’t much further to Kosmiir and the other two Makkisen and would rather they all got there in one piece rather than someone trip in the half light of the rising moon.

  Shortly the three of them arrived where the mystical steeds waited. Kosmiir flashed a warning that they needed to clear the area immediately, and also that they detected no-one close that might be a problem.

  Tamala paused before mounting Halsturm, then suddenly let out a slight giggle.

  “What?” Myriana sounded tense as she spoke.

  “Our bowman friend isn’t hanging around, he’s almost at the place we set to meet back up on foot, whilst we have rides and are still going to get there after him.

  I think I need to have a word with him about showing off.”

  “No throwing things,” Astridson declared.

  All three looked at each other, then they were all giggling. Astridson recognised that it was mostly stress bleeding off but kept quiet and let the ladies enjoy the moment.

  After a short pause he spoke again, “Then I guess we should get moving.” So saying, he mounted Kosmiir and started toward the location where Cal would be waiting for them.

  Escape

  Cal was breathing deeply, but not overly so. Their meeting point was just ahead so he started to ease the pace down to a walk. It was this act that stopped him stepping into the open just as he heard sounds. Not the sounds of his friends and the Makkisen approaching, but the jingle of chainmail.

  He tried to hurl a warning thought toward Tamala, but without the redhead concentrating on Cal himself, the message didn’t reach her. Almost immediately following his hearing the noise he also heard the loud neighing of Kosmiir. The trio had ridden straight into sight of the enemy group, with no time to react.

  Cal glanced to the first disturbance and was horrified to see a J’dar patrol of about a dozen men. He had seen no sign of this patrol when he had scouted earlier and could only assume that they were separate from the caravan. There was no time to turn and try and run as all the patrol were mounted.

  A cry of alarm sounded through the night as the two groups of riders spotted each other. Several J’dar started toward the Queen’s party whilst the others dismounted, most drawing swords but two reaching to their saddle-packs for bows.

  Stepping clear of the cover he had used he swiftly sent two arrows soaring toward the pair of enemy bowmen he could see. Both fell before th
ey could release their own missiles, but those on horseback swiftly closed the distance to Her Majesty and the others.

  Astridson leapt from Kosmiir’s back and drew his own sword, calling for Tamala and Myriana to dismount as well. Tamala obeyed instantly, though the young queen took a moment to follow suit.

  As soon as the other Makkisen were free of their riders, they were also free to fight without concern for those upon their backs. The charging J’dar had no idea as to the nature of the mounts they faced. They were rapidly dis-abused of the idea that they were ordinary horses as the three Elf Steeds began kicking and biting, at the same time as Astridson rolled to the side of the nearest mounted J’dar and neatly swung his blade, angled high, to take the rider across the back.

  Cal sprinted toward the small group of dis-mounted J’dar, drawing his own blade from its sheath across his back. He flicked the blade out, deflecting the swing of the first warrior he met, turning in a half circle that drew the blade round and settled that particular dispute almost before it had begun.

  Those they faced were dismayed to discover that not only were they facing a much greater danger in front of them than they had anticipated, but that they were also being attacked from two different directions.

  Although they had the advantage of numbers, the shock and speed with which the two men and three Makkisen attacked had half the patrol down within seconds. Before Cal and his friends could finish it, two riders broke away and rode swiftly into the dark, not wasting any breath calling out, but obviously racing to find help.

  In the quiet that descended around the scene of the fight Cal could hear sobbing coming from the direction of the Queen. He glanced over to see Tamala with her arms wrapped around the young girl, gently consoling her. Seeing Cal watching she unwrapped her arms and sprinted into his own.

  “Cal! Gods, I’m so glad to see you. I thought we were lost.” He held her for a moment before tilting her head upward and kissing her deeply.

  “Fortunately, we had an advantage in our four-legged friends,” he smiled at her to try and calm her down a bit, “but we need to move. They’re sure to raise the alarm and it won’t take long for them to re-organise and come after us instead of searching to the north as we planned.”

  Astridson approached them both with the Queen by his side.

  “Apologies,” she said, “After months of captivity it was more than I could bare that we might be caught again so swiftly.”

  “No apology is necessary Majesty. That you’ve held up at all is testament to your strength.” Astridson spoke to them all, “We need to move. Tamala, Majesty, Kosmiir will take you. Halsturm will take me.”

  The Queen looked slightly curious. “You speak as if it’s their choice?”

  “Yes Majesty, our three companions are Makkisen, those you would refer to as Elf Steeds.”

  A newfound awe spread over her face as she regarded the three of them. “I think proper introductions should wait until we get a less hurried moment.”

  “Agreed.”

  Maris and Cal drifted back from the group every now and again in order to keep an eye out on their pursuers. They could see signs, distant light being thrown by torches, and they also noted that they were gradually gaining ground on them.

  The combined weight of Tamala and Myriana may not be beyond Kosmiir’s capability, but it was certainly slowing him from his normal pace.

  When he returned to the fleeing group, he drew up alongside Astridson.

  “We are being outpaced. I’m guessing sometime tomorrow afternoon we’ll be overtaken.”

  “I guessed as much. We need to be looking for somewhere that at least offers some potential for defence.

  “How far do you think we are from Collett and the dwarves?” They were keeping their voices low, but he saw Tamala become more attentive when he asked the question. Her face took on the vacant look they had come to recognise as her using her newly discovered ability. She didn’t ask, as she knew they would object to her running the risk of whoever the unknown observer was detecting her again.

  “It will be close,” she said. “I don’t know for sure…. Cal?”

  “Yes.” Something in her voice drew his full attention to her.

  “Cor’dell’s with them.”

  “Damn, how does he keep getting around so quickly.” He glanced at Astridson before both men spurred their rides on without further words.

  Their pace continued to almost imperceptibly slow through the remains of the night and into the morning. Just after noon, with the dust from their pursuers clear for all to see behind them, Astridson pointed to the south. A cluster of large boulders surrounding a small hill had come into view.

  “Tamala?”

  The magic user stared into the distance for a few seconds before returning her attention to the Lighter. “I can’t tell. They’re getting close but something is stopping me from telling any better than that.”

  Astridson looked at the young queen before addressing Cal. “How many do you judge?”

  “From the dust, probably a couple of dozen, maybe a few more.”

  “How long do you think you can hold them from those rocks?” he pointed toward the hill.

  “Probably not long, but we need every moment we can gain.” So saying, he nudged Maris in that direction and the others followed.

  It only took a couple of minutes to reach the cover of the rocks, where they quickly dismounted. As they rode up to them Cal had asked Astridson whether it might be worth sending the ladies ahead while they tried to slow pursuit, but both agreed that the enemy would just send half their force after them whilst the others tackled the two warriors.

  They dismounted, leaving the Makkisen to cover the rear in case anyone made their way around them, whilst Cal, Astridson and Tamala took up position amongst the rocks facing toward the approaching J’dar.

  As they came into sight they could see Cor’dell in the lead, his black armour lending an even more ominous aspect to him. He saw the small hill and its surrounding rocks and instantly pointed in that direction. Quickly his men dismounted and started toward the outcrop, slightly crouched with swords at the ready.

  Cal watched them approach, taking note of the fact that Cor’dell walked behind the main body of men. Suddenly he felt a strange sensation, almost as if he was hearing someone tell him what he needed to do. He quickly took his bow and quiver and handed them to Astridson.

  “Keep an eye on these for me.”

  Astridson stared at the youngster as he stepped from behind the cover of the boulders and started to walk toward the J’dar.

  “Cal, what are you doing?” The cry came from Tamala, just as Astridson grabbed her to prevent her from following.

  “You can’t help him.”

  As he watched, Cal strode to about thirty yards from their foe and then to everyone’s amazement sat down. Cross legged he drew his sword and laid it across his lap, just staring at the desert men.

  The J’dar stopped, forming a half circle about where he was seated. Finally one of them strode forward to meet him. All the time, Cor’dell stood and stared at the young man from Fallon’s Glen.

  The lone J’dar stopped in front of Cal, then sat down opposite him.

  “You are either brave, or very foolish. I’ve not decided which.”

  Cal smiled, “Hopefully brave, though there are some who know me that might claim otherwise.”

  The man nodded, “I could think of a few that might say the same about me, why do you wish to speak?”

  “To be completely honest, to buy my friends time. I’m guessing you know that we have aid coming?”

  The warrior opposite rocked backward laughing, “I can’t fault your honesty. A shame, we could probably have been friends had the Gods seen differently.”

  “Perhaps. I am Calmagyr Ironsson, may I ask a boon before we start anything unpleasant?”

  “I am Faruk Tulafu, if it is within my power to grant, certainly.”

  “The man in the black armour, Cor�
�dell.”

  “I know not who this Cor’dell is you speak of. If you mean the Koldari who herds us,” this was spoken with undisguised disgust, “then yes, I know of who you speak.”

  “I have crossed swords with this ‘Koldari’ before, and he has annoyed me on other occasions as well. I wish to challenge him, would your men respect the challenge?”

  Faruk’s face split into an evil grin, “I’m sure that this could be arranged. You think you can beat him?”

  “I’ll never know unless I try.”

  Astridson couldn’t hear what the two seated figures were discussing, but the sound of laughter couldn’t be mistaken. It definitely wasn’t the sound he had expected to hear.

  As he tried to decide what was happening Kosmiir ‘spoke’ to him.

  “Riders from the west, too far to tell who.”

  He turned to look in that direction but aside from more dust rising he couldn’t see anything clearly. Confirmation of who it might be came from the way the J’dar reacted, suddenly looking uncomfortable and nervous.

  He turned to look at the two ladies, but they couldn’t draw their attention from the scene below.

  Abruptly Cal and the J’dar warrior stood, Cal holding his blade loosely and ready.

  Faruk turned to his men and called out, “Brothers, my new friend here wishes a warriors roll of the dice! He challenges the Koldari warrior stood with us! Does anyone challenge his right?”

  Cor’dell went to speak but stopped short when he saw the reaction of the men about him. He knew the warrior traditions of these men of the desert, and he knew that if he refused the young man from Boraan he would probably find them siding with him.

  “I accept, we don’t need to discuss it.” He spat at the floor beside him. “Bring the little pup on.”

  Astridson had left watching the scene unfolding in front of them to turn his attention to the unknown party approaching from the west. As he heard a loud cheer from the J’dar he saw the first figure come into sight. The figure looked slightly odd until another appeared next to him, standing head and shoulders over the first. Dwarves!