by M J Webb
Chapter 37
17th August – The Journey South
The ‘new’ Rebel Army was very much heading into the unknown and it seemed to many of its number that they had far more questions than answers at this point. But despite all of the uncertainty and the obvious hardship that lay ahead, spirits amongst the soldiers in the village of Soreen that morning were surprisingly high. The freed prisoners and slaves finally felt that their lives once again had meaning, purpose and direction, things that had been cruelly taken away from them by King Vantrax. They shared a new determination, coupled with fresh hope that his days of evil were finally coming to an end. The Ruddite veterans echoed these feelings, they’d been fighting for many years, in recent times merely for survival with no realistic hope of victory and, though their journey now took them initially away from their homeland, the eventual aims of the campaign were clear and achievable. At long last, they were finally daring to believe again that they could actually win this war. It would be a long hard struggle they knew, many of them would probably die before it was won, before Rhuaddan was finally set free, but they were all united firmly again behind their King. Old loyalties and feuds had been put aside, disputes over borders and lands no longer mattered, they all swore to fight to restore King Artrex to his throne. Every soldier there swore vehemently to remove King Vantrax from power. And now, in the cold morning air, at a small village in the centre of Rhuaddan, all of the rebels in the new army swore an oath of loyalty to fight for Jake, ‘The Keeper of the Stones!’
Jake, Ben and Verastus had to say their goodbyes to the others, at least temporarily, as they prepared to go their separate ways. The war council members were hastily reassembled in the bar room at Seon’s Shield. It was emptied, and the great door slammed shut as the last of the soldiers left.
“Silence, my friends, please. The time is upon us.” stated King Artrex. “We will now journey south. To what end and what fate we do not know. But we once again depart on a campaign with our heads held high. We leave this blessed place filled with hope. Jake, Ben, Verastus. The future of my people, of all our peoples, now lies in your hands. The stones you carry with you were once a gift to my kind, many years ago they helped to bring peace and prosperity to this land. Always remember, the stones in that box play no part in the evil that others do. Just as a brother cannot be blamed for the actions of his sibling. They are merely tools. Tools which could, and would, be used against us to serve the forces of evil, should they fall into the wrong hands. And tools which will help us to restore the good times to Estia once again. My friends, go now with our blessing, find the wizard, Tien. Restore the stones for our people, for all those who would fight against tyranny. And we will know peace once again!
I wish you all a safe and peaceful journey. If we are successful on our march, we will make for the besieged city of Dassilliak. If we arrive in good shape, and in good time, and if we are successful in joining with our friends, we will see you there. If we are not, then I will find some way of leaving word for you.” the King said, in a strangely reassuring voice.
Artrex moved forward to make his goodbyes individuallhe placed a hand on Verastus’ shoulder and wished him well. Then he embraced Jake briefly before saying a prolonged and heartfelt goodbye. When he reached Ben, he hugged him warmly for a minute or so, finally taking a small step backwards.
“Go safely my young friend, I have enjoyed and valued your company,” said the King, “you have been an excellent companion. Look after those stones for us all. And look after yourself. But most of all, look after Jake. He is the Keeper, we are all now looking to him. All of our hopes lie with him and those stones!”
Ben wasn’t really sure how to respond. He just smiled slightly, a little embarrassed by the affectionate farewell and just now beginning to understand completely the responsibility that was being placed on his young shoulders. Then, in typical Ben fashion, he replied nonchalantly.
“Yeah, thanks a lot. You look after yourself too. T’rar.”
He walked off and went around the room saying a brief farewell to everyone there. As he did, he couldn’t help but notice that Jake and Zephany’s goodbye seemed to be taking a lot longer than the rest.
* * *
A short while later, Jake and his two companions left Soreen and began their journey south, riding across the open plains that lay between the JH’Terin hills and the Ilan River. The route they’d decided to follow was not the quickest way to the Phelanagarth Mountains, where the wizard Tien was thought to reside, but it was the safest, as it avoided the popular Rhuaddan trade routes, which were well travelled. It did however, mean that they had several obstacles to negotiate safely before reaching their destination. First, they had to cross the Ilan River, at a point somewhere between the walled cities of Tregustliat and Qilinenochtrad. Then, they had to cross the open green fields of The Tiaral, a large swathe of countryside that spanned the distance between the two cities and the Leklivar Mountains, patrolled regularly by Northern Army soldiers policing the local population. And, having crossed The Tiaral, they then had to somehow cross the heavily policed Nadjan border, somewhere perilously close to the fortress of Tyliam, which typically housed at least three hundred Northern Army guards. But the danger was still not over once they crossed the border. A final hurdle lay in their path before they reached the Phelanagarth Mountains - the fortress of Brandralen. This was a giant, imposing structure, once built to guard against Rhuaddan invaders from the north, it had high lookout towers on all sides and was now known to house a contingent of fearsome Taskan warriors.
Jake and Verastus had been supplied with fresh horses. Ben had chosen once again to ride behind his friend, for he was still not confident in his own limited riding ability and he was only too aware that they may need to move at speed at some point to evade capture or pursuit. He didn’t want to let anyone down.
Their journey began, and a strange and unexpected sense of calm and well-being suddenly overcame Ben as they rode through the Rhuaddan countryside. He was holding on loosely to Jake’s shirt and in his contentment, he began humming some of his favourite tunes. Jake, who was normally annoyed by his friend’s insistence on humming very badly his own, unique version of modern classics, now found himself actually enjoying the familiarity that accompanied them.
They galloped hard in short bursts, slowing towalking pace occasionally to allow their steeds to recover their strength, before galloping again at speed to cover the open ground as fast as they could. The sun was shining brightly, it was a glorious day and the first leg of their journey was completed in excellent time. They reached the fast flowing Ilan River by mid afternoon and, after riding its length for some time, they found a point shallow enough to ride across.
In trying to find a suitable crossing point however, they had travelled further south than originally planned and they were now far too close to the city of Tregustliat for comfort, the walled ramparts now being clearly visible on the southern horizon.
“We have to ride back up the river, Jake. We have to find a place to cross further north. We cannot risk being seen by anyone here, the road from Vengoth to Qilinenochtrad is well travelled I am told, if we cross here, we will surely be seen!” rasped Verastus anxiously.
“Hmmm… Yes, thanks ‘V.’” answered Jake, as he thought about it for a moment. “No. I’m sorry mate, but I think it’s a risk worth taking. We have a long way to go, and any delays give Vantrax a chance to catch up. Besides, if we do go north as you say, there’s no guarantee we’ll find another crossing point within miles. We could be searching for ages. Right, here’s what we do; the enemy will expect anyone suspicious, fugitives or rebels, to run the first time they are seen. We won’t run, we’ll walk our horses slowly, as if we are locals. The distance they’re likely to see us from, they shouldn’t be able to make us out too clearly. Hopefully, they’ll take us for travellers. We’ll only run if we’re spotted, and we’ll avoid getting too close to anyone and anywhere, Okay?” he asked, really checking t
hat Ben behind him was paying attention to what he was saying.
“What? Yeah, of course, whatever you say.” answered Ben, who was half asleep and hadn’t really heard the conversation. “What time do we eat?”
Jake chuckled at Ben’s reply, and he noted with satisfaction that Verastus was laughing too. “Ha, ha, we’ll stop tonight when it’s dark. Until then, your stomach will just have to growl, mate.” he answered, through his laughter.
“Ohhh crap!” moaned Ben, as they moved off again to cross the river.
Jake’s plan worked well. They were spotted from some distance on several occasions during the remainder of that day, the soldiers on the ramparts at Tregustliat, an enemy patrol as they entered the Tiaral grasslands, and several curious peasants and travellers at various points along their journey, but none of them passed close enough to identify them clearly, or to get a close look at the boy’s strange attire, which may well have given them away. Their apparent relaxed approach and lack of concern at being spotted, only served to confirm the assumption of the various strangers that they were not a group of any consequence, and certainly not a threat to the great Northern Army.
As the sun set and darkness came once more, they reached the foot of the Lechlivar Mountains and quickly found a suitable place to rest for the night. Ben raced immediately for the bags of food that were attached to the horse’s saddle. His mouth was watering at the prospect of the delights that lay in store for his cruelly deprived stomach, which had been moaning and groaning loudly for miles. He reached inside the bag and hastily pulled out its contents.
“Bread... Bread… And some sort of cheesy thing.” he shouted disappointingly, disgusted and moaning to no one in particular. “All these miles and that’s all we have to eat?”
Jake shook his head but he was laughing at the predictability of Ben’s response. “Ah, stop your whining will ya, mate?”
“Yeah… But bread? I ask ya?” replied Ben, clearly not impressed by the menu.
Verastus was lying down and was about to go to sleep, he raised himself up on his elbows and stared at the boys with a look of complete disbelief and disapproval.
“Shame on you. There are some in my country, and here in Rhuaddan, who are starving to death as we speak. The bread you hold in your hands is a day’s ration for six people in Lidzenstor! And what do you think the people of Soreen have to live on, now that we have emptied their stores? Yet, they gave it to us willingly. You are both young, you are from a different world I know, you have perhaps not seen the things that I have seen. But you both have a lot to learn my friends.” he said, shaking his head from side to side. He pulled his blanket up around him and turned over to go to sleep. “I suggest you both try to get as much rest as possible. We are all going to need it.”
Ben and Jake looked at each other, ashamed. They knew that Verastus was right. They had been selfish, and insensitive, nothing more needed to be said. Ben broke off some bread and handed it to Jake, who accepted it and nodded a thank you. Then they settled down under their own blankets on the floor beside Verastus.
“You were right, ‘V.’ We’re sorry, mate.” said Jake softly, as he closed his eyes.
“Yeah, big man. Didn’t mean anything by it, honest. It’s just me, it’s the way I am. I won’t moan again, I promise. Goodnight.” added Ben, making a vow that he knew he’d find very hard to keep.
* * *
They slept soundly that night, sheltered from the wind by the mountains and completely exhausted both mentally and physically from the world shattering events of the past few days. They awoke just as the sun rose in the northern sky. As usual, Ben was the last to rise.
“Come on. Hurry up!” shouted Jake, as Ben rushed to join his comrades on the horses. “Long way to go, you know.”
“Alright, hold your horses!” replied Ben. “Ha, ha! Hold your horses! Get it?” he laughed loudly, thoroughly amused by his own choice of words and much to the obvious confusion of Verastus, who failed to see the joke.
“Yes, yes, alright. Let’s go.” answered Jake, trying his hardest not to laugh at his friend.
Ben picked up the blanket and grabbed his bag, checking it to ensure he still had the box. He thrust his blanket inside and then reached for Jake’s outstretched hand to climb up onto his horse. He stopped himself before getting on, as he suddenly realised something.
“Hey now! Wait just a minute!” he said emphatically, as soon as the thought entered his mind. “What about breakfast?” he demanded.
Jake and Verastus smiled at each other.
“It’s in the bag, mate. Ha, ha... Get it? In the bag! You only have to reach in and get it. Do you want bread, or >bread? I know, how about a lovely piece of bread?” he asked, laughing loudly along with his partner, who this time was clearly in on the joke. “We eat on the move.” he added, once he’d stopped laughing.
Ben reluctantly climbed up on the horse. He took out a handful of bread and began chomping in disgust as they rode away. They journeyed south, deliberately hugging the coast after they’d rounded the Leklivar Mountains and passing into Nadjan unnoticed by the soldiers of Tyliam fortress, many of whom were already out patrolling the paths and fields in the Tiaral, as far as Tregustliat. Jake’s incredible luck seemed to be holding. Only the Taskan warriors at Brandralen fortress now stood between the group and their destination.
They rode slowly when within sight of the huge towers, trying desperately to keep their distance and to appear nonchalant as the Phelanagarth Mountains could be seen far away on the horizon. Verastus cast one eye in the direction of the fortress, trying not to make it too obvious. He could see it clearly and he could just make out the shapes of the soldiers who were standing high up on the ramparts. There were two large, stationary shapes that he presumed were Taskans, they were staring in their general direction, but they showed no obvious sign of being unduly concerned.
The Taskans presence at Brandralen was a widely known fact by all the people of Rhuaddan. Their cruel deeds and ferocious raids had gained them a terrifying reputation, so Verastus was not surprised at all to see them. Neither was he overly concerned. He knew that they were short-sighted creatures and would probably not raise the alarm. As he looked more closely however, he spotted a few smaller shapes in the corner towers, and on one of them, they began to move swiftly. Then, he thought he saw one of the smaller beings pointing in their direction, as his colleagues rushed to join him. The Taskans on the ramparts below then began moving rapidly, running to the corner tower, and he knew for certain that they’d been spotted.
Taskan warriors were awesome fighting machines, but they were well aware of their main weakness. To compensate for their poor eyesight, they often travelled in the company of other mercenaries who possessed excellent vision. On this occasion, the garrison at Brandralen had been strengthened with a force of twenty Pralon, taken from the army of the south, in which several thousand served. The Pralon were another warrior tribe from the plains of Eratur on Mynae, one of many warring factions who shared a turbulent history with the Thargws. Pralon warriors were fast, slender creatures who could outrun all of their known enemies or prey. They ate nothing but meat, preferably raw, but sometimes cooked, and they hated eating any food that they hadn’t killed first. They were of a strange but fearsome appearance, their large, square jaw and chiselled facial features were covered in a tan-coloured, short fur that adorned their entire body. Each of them had small, white patterned streaks running up their noses which went through into their foreheads and long pointed ears, each pattern being unique to its owner and their main point of recognition for one another. Their noses were small and cat-like, their eyes wide and narrow, with black pupils set against a bright yellow surround, and their mouths were large but once again narrow, containing a vicious array of teeth, small razor-like ones at each side, large jagged incisors at the front, with four large penetrative fangs, each protruding menacingly from their mouths like a warning to all to keep clear.
The Pralon were known
to use a variety of small, handheld weapons. But their weapon of choice, carried by all in a small scabbard dangling from a hip belt, was a serrated sword known as aKarait, which was just bigger than a dagger. Pralon warriors were not all out killing machines like the Thargws. They couldn’t match their compatriots for aggression or strength. But they were swift, cunning and possessed excellent eyesight and hearing. They could see further than even the Thargws, and the Pralon lookouts on the tower walls at Brandralen fortress, now had a clear view of the three travellers crossing the fields ahead of them. Even from such a distance, they easily spotted the strange attire of two of the horsemen and realised immediately that something was amiss, and needed investigating. They shouted to their Taskan allies to call out the guard and a great, shrill of a horn sounded loudly from within the fort.