Knights End

by Brad Clark

  “This place reminds me of home,” Glaerion said. His voice was unusually soft and gentle.

  “I remember your home being hot and humid.”

  Glaerion gave a slight shake of his head. “No, not our land of exile. Our true home. The Elven homeland.”

  “Was it in the mountains?”

  “It was. The name in Commoner is the Pirannie Mountains. Bigger than these mountains, and rockier, too. Our entire city was built into the side of the mountains. Imagine South Karmon, as big as it is, built among the mountains. Rocks were quarried and used for tall towers and castles and homes. The winters were harsh and cold, but springtime brought a warmth and beauty that I thought was unmatched.” He turned away from the sun and looked at Conner. “Your Karmon is much like our homeland. The land is similar. The climate is similar. In some ways, I feel like I’m once again fighting for my homeland.”

  “You are.”

  Glaerion nodded his head sharply. “Indeed, we are. This war must end here.”

  Conner drew his swords and tossed his scabbards against a nearby wall. Using slow, deliberate strokes, he practiced the moves that Master Goshin had taught him what seemed a lifetime ago. He turned to face Glaerion, but the Elf was standing still, gazing off into the distance.

  “Are we not going to practice?” Conner asked.

  Glaerion let out a long sigh. “Your shoulder is fully healed?”

  Conner forced himself to not rub the shoulder. “Hargon’s healing powers are extraordinary. My arms are sore from yesterday’s training and not because of the wound.”

  “Hargon is indeed powerful, but his power of healing is but a fraction of his potential.”

  Glaerion walked forward so that he stood next to Conner and could talk in a whisper. “It is not his power to heal that concerns me, though. It is the ability to cast spells of power that causes alarm.”

  Conner raised an eyebrow.

  “Left unchecked, Human mages were able to attain great power, enough so that they were able to drive us to exile.”

  “The world is a different place today,” Conner countered.

  It was Glaerion’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Humans and Elves were not always enemies. At one time, when I was an Elfling, we were allies, just as we are today.”

  “Hargon is but one mage. Weren’t there many of them back then?”

  “Yes. Thousands. But, it all started with just one. And none of them had the power of the Ark of Life. What the Ark does for him is almost unnatural. He only seems to have it under control, and there is no telling what will happen after this war is over.”

  “What are you saying? That we should be afraid of what Hargon will become?”

  “We will need his power to defeat the Deceiver and his forces, but when the war is over, we will need to take the Ark of Life from him, and he will not like that. He will be addicted to its power, and he will resist us taking it. Strongly resist.”

  “You assume he will be addicted to power, you mean. Our world has changed since you had your war with Humans. Just because we were that way once does not mean we will be that way again.”

  Glaerion nodded thoughtfully. “You may be right, but can we be sure? Can you tell me with certainty that the person who was once emperor of the Taran Empire would not strive to regain that power? If we fight to remove one evil from the world, should we not also strive to remove all evil, too? I do not know Hargon well, but I have seen his kind many times over.”

  “Maybe you see what you want to see,” Conner countered.

  “Maybe I do, but it is only because of my personal experience with Human mages. Not one mage, or two, or even a dozen mages. I have encountered hundreds of Human mages throughout my life, and I am not alone in my concern. All of us Elves are fully aware of the situation, but we have kept our concerns to ourselves. King Illichian thinks that if this is brought out too soon, it could cause a rift between Elves and Humans. He understands the politics of our alliance and will not do anything to cause a rift.”

  “And he is probably right. If it becomes known that you Elves were going to try and take away the Ark of Life from Hargon without his consent, then I could see more than just a rift.”

  “There has already been one war between Humans and Elves. There cannot be another. We must stand as one. And not just for this fight against the Deceiver, but also for after the war is over. Elves will not go into hiding again. We will be a part of this world like we haven’t been in thousands of years. There is plenty of room in this world for all of us. When the time is right, and the Ark of Life is no longer necessary, we will take it and bring it to a place of hiding. Remember, Elves cannot use the Ark of Life, so having it in our possession will ensure that it will never be used.”

  “That would require Hargon to freely give it up.”

  “It does. That is why I tell you this now. King Illichian wanted me to keep our concern a secret from all Humans, but I need to have you on our side. If Hargon resists us taking it from him, we will need as many of your kind to stand up to him and convince him that it is the right thing to do. He and you have some sort of bond or connection. I think you can convince him that it is the right thing to do.”

  Conner glanced back at the castle, in the general direction of where Elissa was getting ready for her meeting. “I think the war council should know. Not just me, but Queen Elissa. Sir Marik. Hemli. Everyone. If Hargon is a danger, then we should be fully prepared for it.”

  Glaerion shook his head. “The more people who know, the more chance that Hargon will overhear a whispered rumor and we cannot let him know that we are concerned for him. We need his power to fight the Deceiver, and as long as we can have him on our side, the better chance we have of winning this war. If he were to get wind of our concern, then it would be possible he would take the Ark of Life and leave the castle. We are still a formidable army without him, but with him, I am confident we will surely win.”

  Conner stretched his arms and moved into an offensive position. With a smile and quick slashes with his swords, Conner asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to be in the war council?”

  “The war council is not for soldiers, it is for generals. In this battle, I am to be a soldier, and I must spend my time training like one. King Illichian is a wise man and will get counsel from many other wise men. Your Karmon Knights know military tactics as well as any. I trust their judgment.”

  “All right, then,” Conner said with his swords up in a defensive position. “Ready?”

  Glaerion did not respond but leaped forward, and their training began.

  ***

  The castle’s main hall had been cleared out, allowing the members of the war council to meet in private. Teams of Elves and Knights guarded the entrances not to protect those inside, but to ensure secrecy and privacy. In the center of the room, four tables were pushed together to make one large square table. Although seating arrangements had not been set, the various races had grouped themselves along the same sides of the table. King Illichian, Hallendrielle, and three of the king’s top Elven generals took seats facing the open hearth. Directly across from them were the Karmon Knights, represented by Sir Marik and Sir Gossmire. They flanked their queen, who sat straight and tall, looking as regal as she could, although her heart was pounding hard. Her mind swam with too many thoughts and fears, the biggest of them feeling responsible for trying to figure out how to win the war.

  Hemli the Dwarf sat alone to the queen’s left and said nothing at all. He was overwhelmed with the idea of sitting in a room full of Elves and Karmon Knights. The greatest of the legends of his childhood were in this room, and it took his breath away and clouded his mind. With little to offer in the way of tactics or strategies, he sat and listened. His small force of Dwarven men and women would be told where to go, and they would fight until the very end. He knew as well as any of them what this war meant. If they lost, there would be no point in surviving. They had endured years of suffering under the might of the evil
ancient Elf, and they would not spend another day subjecting themselves to oppression. Death was not something that he feared.

  One of the Elven generals spent a long time elaborately laying out a proposed plan of attack. For some time, it was only his voice that was heard, as everyone else listened. Many nodded their heads in agreement, but not everyone.

  As the Elven general continued to carefully and slowly tell his plan, Marik began to absently shake his head slowly, but clearly.

  When the Elven general paused to take a breath, King Illichian interrupted him. “Sir Marik, I see doubt on your face, and you shake your head.”

  Marik hesitated, letting his eyes drift from one council member to another. He had been listening carefully, trying to keep his mind open, but he could not take their arrogant confidence any longer. He knew his tone was strong, and his voice was too loud, but he needed to get his point across.

  “You have not seen them in battle,” Marik said. “I have. Sir Gossmire has. But, none of you has.” He let his gaze drift down the line of Elven generals and then back to King Illichian. “I fought them from the first moment of this war, and I know how they fight and how dangerous they are. You may think them to be small and easy to kill, but they are vicious and deadly. Their strength comes in overwhelming numbers, which is what we should expect to see.”

  “The eyes of an Elven archer match those of an eagle. Our arrows will strike them down even before they could get close enough to us,” King Illichian argued confidently. “Our bowmen will decimate their numbers so that when we counterattack on foot, they will turn and run, and we will slaughter them before they reach the safety of the forests.”

  “It will take more than a single arrow,” Marik countered with a knowing smile and slight chuckle. “Unless your aim is perfect. They will continue to fight even when gravely wounded. As long as they have breath in their lungs, they will fight. In fact, they will be even more brutal when hurt. They have been bred to kill and to be killed. It is all they know, and they are very good at it.”

  “You underestimate the skill of the Elvenkind. Our aim will be perfect.”

  “You overestimate your skill,” Marik growled angrily while he stood up.

  Calmly, King Illichian replied, “You have never seen our warriors in battle. It is nothing like you’ve ever seen before.”

  Before Marik could reply, Elissa jumped up and slapped the table with palms of her hands. “This arguing must stop! We will get nowhere if we cannot get along.”

  Everyone became silent at the unexpected outburst.

  “Your Majesty,” Marik said with a calmer tone. “You must control your anger, else you might cause harm to your unborn child.”

  “Sir Marik, do not patronize me.”

  “Queen Elissa, in this, Sir Marik is right,” King Illichian said. “These are difficult times and difficult issues that we must discuss. You cannot risk your child, or yourself, for that matter. Maybe this council is not for you.”

  Hellendrielle turned to her king, her face showing anger as well. “King Illichian, we are on her land, protected by her walls. She will not be leaving this chamber. If anything must change, then it is you who cannot get over your own arrogance. Do not raise your finger to me! I will speak my mind, and I don’t care that you have the title of king. We are about to fight a war that could determine whether or not anyone – Human, Elf, or Dwarf – will continue to exist. If we lose, then our world is done. Those that survive will be slaves of the Deceiver, held to serve his purpose, whatever that may be. Death would probably be a better outcome than being held as a slave. Sir Marik has already fought these creatures in three major battles. Rather than arrogantly responding with a condescending remark of how great our archers are, maybe you should close your mouth and listen to him.” She turned to Marik, who had started to turn his lips into a grin. “And don’t you dare think that you aren’t a part of the problem! I know you are born and bred to be soldiers, but that does not mean that everything needs to be a fight.”

  Marik clenched his jaw. He knew when it was time to retreat, so he sat back down in his seat. There were many aspects to leadership that he had taken to, but being responsible for planning what might be the final battle to save the world was not one of them. He missed being able to spend days on end out in the woods, hunting and scavenging for food. To the core, he would always be a Knight Ranger, protecting the kingdom alone in the forests. It was naïve of him to even think about the days before the world had turned upside down. Each day might have been predictable, but he always knew that there would be a day after today. Right now, he was not sure if there would ever be a tomorrow.

  Marik eased back down onto the bench. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”

  Elissa touched her hands to her belly. “My child is the love of my life, even before I see her eyes.” A slight smile came to her face. “Or his eyes. When I feel movement, I am reminded that the world is full of life. But, if we do not win this war, then there will be no life or a place for my child to live. Every one of us and everyone left in this castle may not survive this next battle. Without victory, there is no future for any of us. If my child must be sacrificed for our survival, then so be it. If I must be sacrificed for our survival, then so be it. We all must be willing to sacrifice so that all creatures of the One God will survive. If we’re not willing, then we might as well just give up now.”

  Marik let a smile creep across his face. This was the leader that he could follow to the ends of the Earth. Even more so than her father, Elissa brought a fiery confidence that was infectious. He could see it on the faces over everyone in the room, including the king of the Elves.

  One the Elven generals, caught up in the moment, stood up and exclaimed, “Our arrows will rain down on them so thick, it will be as if a wall of thorns fell upon them!”

  Not to be outdone, Marik let out a loud warrior’s cry and said, “Our Knights will trample any who survive! The day will be ours!”

  Hemli stood up and shouted, “And our axes will cleave them in two! Now let’s go fight!”

  The tension of the room lifted. Everyone was smiling and laughing.

  King Illichian leaned forward towards Elissa so he could be heard over the shouting and laughter. “I think your army is ready to fight for you. The other Human. Hargon. I thought he was to be with us, for was he not once ruler of an empire?”

  “I have not seen him today, but yesterday I spoke with him, and he said he would be here. I know much of his time is spent with his head buried in that book of his.”

  “He holds much power in the necklace,” the king said, referring to the necklace piece of the Ark of Life artifact. “We will need him to coordinate with us if we are to be successful. A Human mage with his power will be able to do much damage, and if we are not coordinating our attacks, he could accidentally direct his power over our forces.”

  “Do not worry about Hargon,” Elissa said with a smile. “He is with us, and he will fight as we need him to fight.”

  King Illichian showed on his face that he believed her with a wide smile and sharp nod, but in his heart, he still had doubts.

  Chapter Eight

  Hargon knew he should have attended the war council, but he had a more important matter to attend do. It didn’t really matter what decisions they came up with, anyway. They knew what he was capable of and he would be ready to start casting his fireballs when the time came. There were plenty of other newer and better spells that he learned, and he would make sure that he was prepared to use those as well. The fireballs, though, were most effective against the small goblins. Sometimes it took them a few steps to die, but they were highly flammable. Plus, seeing them writhe in pain from a slow and painful death had a certain appeal to him.

  He wasted most of his day hunting through the castle looking for Marila, but she was nowhere to be found. He scared several young chambermaids into sneaking into the Queen’s chamber just in case she had taken up residence in the royal apartments. With all his optio
ns exhausted, he had only one place to go, and it was a place he did not want to be.

  Stepping into the large cavern that housed the Karmon survivors, his nose instantly wrinkled from a pungent aroma that hung in the air like a thick fog, and Hargon wondered how anyone could live in such conditions. He knew that Elissa had soldiers dig latrines outside the caverns, as the last thing they needed was for them to be decimated by disease. It seemed that not everyone took it upon themselves to leave the cavern to do their business, plus there were just too many soiled bodies in one place. Now, he could see why there was reason for the survivors to be moved out of the caverns. Once disease took hold, it would spread through the castle like a wildfire. Soon, tough decisions would need to be made, which would make Lord Martin a very happy person. He wrinkled his nose more at the thought of Lord Martin getting his way than the stench from the cavern.

  Doing his best to ignore the smell, Hargon aimlessly walked through the cavern, his eyes darting around, trying to catch a glimpse of any young lady that might look like Marila. With his tall stature and long, flowing robes, he felt out of place walking among them. He also got the feeling that his reputation preceded him, as he got many side-ways glances and cold stares.

  “You seem lost.”

  Hargon flinched, not expecting anyone to approach him. He turned to see a large, burly man standing behind him. If Hargon didn’t know any better, he might have thought that the man had snuck up behind him.

  “No,” Hargon replied stiffly, doing his best to not show that he had been startled. “Not lost. Just looking for someone.”

  Rufus had been following Hargon, and for a lot longer than Hargon could have imagined. With a raised eyebrow, Rufus asked, “Oh? Who?”

  “Not really any of your business,” Hargon shot back as dismissively as he could.

  Rufus laughed, which surprised Hargon. “I don’t care why you want to find this person, but I could probably help you find him.”