Fall of a Kingdom

by Michael Greenfield

  Cal watched Cor’dell intently as he crossed the space between them, passing between the J’dar who stood silently aside. The dark warrior had his own blade out and quickened his pace as he closed, swinging the blade behind him and bringing it over his head in what should be a crushing blow.

  “Cal, no!” Vorston had reached Tamala’s side just as the first blow was swung before them. He had seen this before, when Cal had helped protect the caravan north of Nibar’a, and he knew what had happened then.

  This time Cal whipped his blade up to block in a lightning move. As the two blades clashed there was again a flash of light, but whereas the flash of light the first time had signalled the end of Cal’s sword and an instant loss of consciousness, this time things were different.

  Cal no longer held a well-made blade provided by a competent human smith. This time he unknowingly wielded a blade forged centuries before by the mythical dwarven Fire-Smiths. Dwarves whose skill was beyond compare.

  Red flame flashed along the blade as it met its opposite. Cordell staggered backward, though who was the more surprised of the two was open to debate. Cal himself hesitated a moment at the unexpected reaction of his sword.

  A low moan rose from the J’dar, whilst among the boulders Vorston stared on wonder, “Fireblade, I never thought…”

  Further comment was cut short as Cal launched a furious attack of his own. Forcing Cor’dell to give ground before launched his own counter-attack. Red flamed flashed from Cal’s blade every time it clashed with the Koldari’s own. The enemy warrior’s attacks were starting to become desperate as every blow he launched was met and deflected by the youth.

  Finally Cal managed to slip a quick parry and thrust through other’s guard. It was not a deep wound, but Cor’dell yelled in rage and stepped swiftly backwards, barely avoiding a second thrust. Fear flickered in his eyes as he hurriedly lunged forward, trying to keep his distance.

  Cal swept his blade from left to right, driving Cor’dell’s own sideways and knocking him slightly off balance. This was the moment Cal had waited for, all the training that Collett, Dorrin and the others had given him provided the speed and skill for him to nimbly step inside the other mans reach and snap his sword back.

  The blade slid straight through the chain mail about Cor’dell’s torso, and with a sudden twist his life ended.

  Flame leapt along Cal’s blade and rapidly engulfed his foe as the body slipped back and collapsed to the ground. All around him J’dar warriors banged their swords against there chests and voices rang out in admiration, but there was only one voice Cal could hear.

  Tamala flew down the slope to reach him, throwing her arms about him and hugging him fiercely. The rest of his friends were just a couple of steps behind her.

  “Cal, oh Cal.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued to cling to him as Vorston, Collett and the dwarves joined them.

  Throwing a glance behind him he saw Faruk passing orders to his men. Surprisingly, they were sheathing their weapons and appeared to be setting up camp.

  “Friend Vorston, its been a while.” He reached out to the dwarf and clasped his wrist. “Perhaps you would be so good as to ask your new friends to stand fast for a moment whilst we find out what’s going on.” He pointedly nodded towards the J’dar.

  “Perhaps you might be right.” He turned to the others and motioned for them to put up their arms. One or two looked disappointed, but none disobeyed.

  Faruk made his way to the celebrating group. His own men watched warily but carried on with their tasks.

  “Calmagyr,” he kept both hands in plain sight, wanting no mistakes to be made, “It would appear you won.”

  “So it would seem.” He looked toward Faruk’s men, “Did I miss something else?”

  Faruk laughed, “By tradition, any man who wins a challenge such as this is given a day’s grace to try and make his escape. I like to think I am a man of tradition.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Besides, I see at least two dozen dwarves amongst those rocks and I really don’t want that exciting a life.” Even Vorston laughed at that.

  “But if you give us a day’s grace, knowing where we head, you also know that you’ll not be able to catch up with us anyway.”

  “True, and if that is so, we might as well have a good meal tonight before you leave in the morning.

  Calmagyr, not all of the J’dar agree with the course we have taken, but at the same time I will not disobey our elders. Though they never said we couldn’t observe traditions as we follow their course.”

  The dwarves soon joined the J’dar in setting up a camp and fires were started in order to prepare food for the evening. The smells that were starting to waft over the area set Cal’s hunger off, so he moved slightly away from the camp to have a few minutes to himself.

  Tamala was busy helping the Queen tidy herself up, as the night promised to be more than just a celebration, and Astridson was busy relating events to Collett, Vorston and Luda. Garron was out leading a patrol, though what he was guarding against was anyone’s guess.

  A presence just behind him caused him to come out of his reverie. “I thought you might be around.”

  Asrak chuckled, “And are you now confident enough that you don’t consider my presence disturbing?”

  “I wouldn’t quite go that far.” Cal chuckled himself, “Dare I ask what you’re doing to the two of us?”

  “Two?”

  “Tamala suddenly discovers she’s a sorceress at the same time as I appear to gain a legendary bow and sword. It’s a bit convenient for my tastes, though none of the others have said anything yet.”

  “Yes, it was a bit hurried. Its only taken about a hundred and fifty years to get those weapons into your hands.”

  Cal stopped, “A hundred and fifty years?”

  “All I can say is that its necessary. I wish I could spare you and your friends some of what’s to come, but you’ll have to just trust me that I know what I’m doing.”

  This time Cal’s laugh was full, “You mean we have a choice?”

  “There’s always a choice, not always obvious, but always a choice.” He was silent a moment before continuing, “Really, I just wanted to make sure you were all alright. I don’t think we need to burden your friends with the inevitable questions that would arise if I were to accompany you back to the camp.”

  “Probably not.” Cal turned to head back to the camp but as he did so he added, “Asrak, thank you.”

  Asrak stood and watched the young man disappear back to the others. He was actually a bit taken aback, it was a long time since someone had actually thanked him.

  Respite

  Myriana had been given the place of honour at Faruk’s right hand for the meal that evening. Cal sat immediately to his left, looking unsettled by the attention he was receiving. The J’dar warriors were treating him as a figure of awe, and the dwarves weren’t much better.

  After Tamala had assured herself that he was indeed unharmed, she had quickly reverted to berating him for taking such a terrible risk. Then she started questioning him about the sword, then she went back to scolding him. Through it all he could barely contain a smile.

  Consciously, everyone avoided mention of the current political and military situation, so talk about the fire regarded the smaller things. Weather featured as a topic of choice, followed by how this was affecting crops or herds. All in all, the meal passed quite pleasantly.

  Once the meal had finished people started to drift away, until Faruk was left alone with Cal and his friends. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the fire, before Myriana spoke.

  “Firstly, thank you for your hospitality Faruk. To say its not quite what we were expecting would be a bit of an understatement.”

  “It is an honour Majesty. I think you’ll find that not all of our people agree with what we’re doing, but we do not have all that many options.”

  “I understand. Again, my thanks.” Looking at Tamala she continued,
“Perhaps you might properly introduce me to our companions. With the rush through the night and day we’ve hardly spoken, although you can ignore uncle Collett and cousin Luda. Gods know I try to ignore them when I can.”

  Collett had just raised a mug to his mouth when Myriana spoke and suddenly found himself snorting his drink through his nose. Peals of laughter rang out as he glared at the Queen.

  “Of course, Majesty.”

  “I think we can ignore all this Majesty business for the moment as well. It’s not like I’ve even been crowned yet, and I owe you all much more than I can repay.

  Please, use my name.”

  Tamala nodded, smiling. “Of course, Myriana. The young man with the bow and flaming sword,”

  “Your young man,” the Queen interrupted.

  Cal blushed furiously as Tamala smiled, “Yes, my young man. Calmagyr Ironsson, from Fallon’s Glen. He was travelling to join the Rangers when Dorrin brought news of your kidnaping.”

  “Dorrin escaped?”

  “Yes, he’s on his way to Joorat as we speak.

  Our Lighter friend is Franc Astridson, who aided our escape from Mid’gra.”

  “Myriana,” Astridson bowed his head briefly.

  “And our friend dwarf is Vorston, who gave Cal his sword and has helped us almost from the beginning.”

  “Thank you all. To see first-hand the bravery and loyalty of my subjects is almost more than I can bare.

  You’ve all given so much already, but I fear that I’m going to ask much more from you. From what little I’ve overheard and learnt from yourselves I see that we face a great threat.

  I need to think about these things, and I think any decisions I make will be better made from the safety of Dwarfhome.

  Faruk,” she faced the J’dar, “I am also taken by the honour you demonstrated today. Even though we are technically enemies, please know that you have my ear if you ever truly have need of my help.”

  “It is Your Majesty that shows great honour.” He stood and bowed deeply, “I will leave you to speak with your friends alone. Goodnight Myriana.” He bowed again before turning and walking away from the fire.

  Myriana returned her attention to the others, “Right, now I need to know everything you know. Collett?”

  The following morning saw the group riding west, away from the J’dar and toward Dwarfhome. Myriana once again found herself amongst armed riders, but on this occasion she knew she had nothing to fear.

  It took four days to reach the mountain pasture in front of Dwarfhome. A slightly more leisurely pace than the relief party’s race east to offer aid to her escape.

  Once there she was taken directly to meet Lord Harlin where she spent almost an hour talking to him on his own. When she reappeared, she had a slight knowing smile upon her face.

  Cal took the opportunity to catch up with Luda, Vorston and Collett, listening to their tale over a cool pitcher of dwarven ale. They in turn listened as he and Tamala talked them through their flight to Agorel, meeting the Light and their journey through the mountains to Churek.

  Finally, the question arose that they’d all been burning to ask, the sword. Cal could only explain what Asrak had told him. Luda, Collett and Tamala had all been present when Vorston gave him the sword.

  All eyes turned to Vorston, “I don’t know much more than Cal.

  I knew the sword was special, its been passed down through several generations before coming into my care. Every time it was passed on it came with the instruction to give it to a selfless man.

  After Cal faced Cor’dell back in Boraan it just came to me. Here was a man who without thought stayed with us to help protect my people, and his own sword was destroyed in the process. It just seemed to fit.”

  “So, you didn’t receive any instruction other than that. Asrak didn’t turn up and tell you to do it?” Tamala smiled knowingly.

  “Well, he didn’t tell me to do it, but he did imply that the time for its use was here.

  How did you know?”

  “I’m beginning to get the feeling that Asrak’s involvement in all of this is more than he’s letting on.”

  Myriana spoke up, “This is all fascinating, and its something we do need to look at, but firstly we need to address the current situation regarding the Shaler, J’dar and Mythraan.

  Collett, how long a campaign are we looking at to retake the areas of Boraan that we’ve lost?”

  Collett straightened visibly as he answered. Here was the girl he had known since she was a baby, but despite her youth and recent experience she addressed him with the powerful voice of a queen. It made him proud.

  “Barring further intervention from Mythra, we should be able to retake the north within three or four months.

  Dorrin will have already started more detailed organisation of our forces before we return, so that makes things a little quicker.

  “Good. I need you to return to Joorat as quickly as possible and take control of our forces there. You’re tasked to retake Boraan. Once achieved, position our forces to hold to the north and be ready to move into M’ur.”

  “Majesty?” This was not a moment for first names. “We’re talking invading our neighbours?”

  “Unfortunately, I am.

  We can retake and hold our homeland, but for how long? We need to permanently remove the threat from Mythra.

  The Shaler are completely under their control, but the J’dar are a different matter. As our friend Faruk proved, there are some of their number who dislike the course they are following. We can exploit that, but only if we present enough strength that they believe we can do something to help them.” She paused to look round the table.

  “Friends, as I said earlier you have all already given so much, but I have need of more.

  I’ve been trying to think of a plan almost since the first day I was taken. Doubly so once I learned of the death of my father, and realised that it was all falling to me to resolve.

  The only answer I can see is to take the battle to Mythra. To do that we need the Southern Kingdoms united. Though I don’t want that power myself, believe me when I say that, the only choice I can see is to take M’ur and reinstate the crown in Galorn.

  Then as a single force we can face the enemy arrayed against us.”

  Collett studied the young girl he called his Queen, but he still thought of as ‘Little Myri’.

  “My Queen, your forces will do whatever you order, but first we need to get you to safety.”

  “We need to get you to the Seers!” It was Tamala that interrupted, “Myriana, you need to make that journey for the good of the Kingdom.”

  Cal could see pain on the young queen’s face as she responded, “It may be that we have to trust to fate that the prophecy will prove false.

  The only way I can see for the monarchy to be restored in Galorn is for me to travel there myself. I’m the only one who might possibly have the influence amongst the Lords there to actually pull some sort of consensus together.”

  “No! I forbid it!” Collett’s words were out of his mouth before he even realised it.

  Myriana actually laughed at the outburst, “’Forbid’ Uncle Collett. I don’t think you can do that anymore.”

  Collett had the good grace to look embarrassed at his outburst. “What I mean Myriana, is that it’s too dangerous.”

  “I realise that, but I can’t ask all of you to risk everything if I weren’t prepared to make the same risk.

  Besides, I wasn’t planning on going alone.

  Vorston?”

  “Yes Queenie,” he grinned as he answered.

  “You’re not taking this seriously my Lord,” she tried to look serious herself, but it was obvious she found the dwarf amusing.

  “I need you to go with Collett if you would. I hope you’ll prove a boon as liaison between Boraan forces and the dwarves. I’ve already spoken briefly with Harlin and he has pledged his assistance.

  Tamala, I need you to go to the Seers. Take Luda with you and try t
o find out as much as you can about this Source magic and see if we have others that are capable.

  Cal, you more than any of us here has earned the right to return to our homeland, but I need you more than any of the others. You wield a Fireblade, that will make you a figure of, if not fear, at least respect amongst those we travel to meet.

  I need you and Franc to come with me. You for the image you’ll project, Franc purely because he knows more about Galorn than the rest of us combined.”

  Astridson nodded his agreement, Cal looking shocked for a moment at the description the Queen gave of him.

  “Majesty,” he spoke quietly, but confidently, “my sword is yours to command.” He looked across to where Tamala sat and could see her eyes starting to go glassy with tears being held back. She nodded to him, understanding.

  “Then, let us drink and be merry this evening. We all have much to do and no-one of us is sure as to whether we will be successful.

  And Tamala, if you get any quiet moments during your travels, start planning your wedding. As extravagant as you can think, I’ve a feeling a grateful nation will be paying the bill.”

  Everyone at the table laughed at as Cal blushed furiously, before getting down to the business of making merry for the rest of the day. Trying their best to take their minds off the task ahead, though none of them could quite manage it.

  Here ends Book One of the Southern Empire Trilogy.

  Acknowledgements

  As with most authors, this book started too many years ago to think about. Therefore, my biggest thanks must go to Gill, who never let me forget that it was out there and needed finishing. To be fair she spent most of the last few years nagging constantly. Well, I guess it worked.

  Graham has been a good friend for many years now, and always listened to ideas I had, no matter how strange. Just being supportive and encouraging is a massive boost for any writer, and between the two of them I couldn’t have asked for any better.