Elsewhere ti-3

by Richard D. Parker

  “Let’s do this,” Endid said. It was quickly decided that he would be going after the Executioner in Malche, accompanied by the High Tarina Nystrom, Tar Myson and Tarina N’dori, while Tar Nev would lead the party against the female Executioner to the north. He would be taking along Tar Kostek and Halstad. Of course Monde and na Gall would also be going along on the first leg of the trip and would then send the others off to their final destinations. Vio, who was still wrapped up tightly in an air of melancholy, volunteered to go along with the Travelers to offer protection while they rested for the return trip and she would be joined by Saran, William and Tam. Gwaynn would be the lead Traveler for the move to the finger. He would be sorely tested and very tired when it was over. He just hoped Laynee and Daniel had grown in strength.

  They had; in fact, Gwaynn was astounded in the growth of both young Travelers, especially Laynee, who might have been strong enough to send the group off by herself. From the very beginning the bridge was Laynee’s and it was Gwaynn and Daniel who offered support. Gwaynn could feel the power radiating out of the young girl and the vortex she created was enormously strong. When the task was complete and the large bridge that appeared over the grassing plains popped out of existence, Gwaynn and the two young Travelers shot back to their bodies and staggered in unison. Gwaynn felt immediately weak and hungry. He ignored the looks of awe he was getting from his two commanders and instead glanced down at the young girl to his left. She gave him an impish grin.

  “I’ve been practicing with the High Zarina,” she explained and handed Gwaynn a sugar cube.

  “Impressive,” he answered back, sucking on the sweet, hard block of sugar.

  “Thank you M’lord,” she replied and gave an exaggerated curtsy.

  “Quit that!” Gwaynn said with a laugh, “and go get your rest. We’ll need to bring them back when the job is finished.”

  Laynee giggled but nodded, wondering just how long it would take the Tars to hunt down the evil people of Sinis.

  “Both of you run along now and get something to eat,” Gwaynn told the two young Travelers and they smiled and headed off at nearly a run. Gwaynn shook his head, very impressed by their growing strength then he turned to Lonogan and Gaston.

  “Walk with me,” he said and his two top men nodded.

  The three turned together and walked back toward Manse at a leisurely pace, followed by nearly a dozen handpicked Knights who followed Gwaynn everywhere now. The morning was overcast and cold…there was the smell of snow in the air. They’d been lucky during the war and Gwaynn expected winter to hit them with all its fury any time now. Perhaps it would be a good thing to move to the more tropical islands in the middle of the Inland Sea.

  “What do you think of Captain Hothgaard?” Gwaynn asked Jeffery Gaston as they made their way up to the main gates. The gates were swung open wide to accommodate the many peasants that now moved up and down the roads to Cape and Solarii. Trade was growing rapidly now that the war was over.

  “He seems an honorable man…a master horseman,” Gaston answered as they moved off the road and let a large wagon rumble past. The wagon was pulled by six large oxen and was loaded down with goods to sell.

  “Many pardons,” the wagon master said with a slight tip of his hat. Bock smiled and waved at the man, who undoubtedly would have been aghast had he known he’d just forced the High King off the road and into a muddy ditch. Gwaynn, however, thought nothing of it, they needed the trade; Massi needed the trade, and they were all happy to have it even if it meant stepping into a little mud.

  “Someone you can work with?” Gwaynn continued as they moved back on the road and through the open gates. Gaston did not hesitate.

  “I would say,” he answered. “I could learn much from the man and he seems fair, though tough minded.”

  “I think his confidence is shot,” Bock piped in. “And he’ll need to regain it before going back onto the battlefield.”

  Gwaynn nodded. “My thoughts exactly,” he replied then turned to Gaston again. “I’m putting him under your command when we move against Sinis. We’ll see how he performs. If he bounces back…I’ll probably allow him to lead the attack against the King’s Island.” Gwaynn paused, then. “No questions of loyalty?” He asked. Hothgaard had taken an oath of fealty after Gwaynn was crowned High King, still questions lingered, especially if the man was to lead an attack on his former home and Queen.

  Bock deferred to Gaston who knew the Captain of the Temple Knights as well as any of them. For the past three weeks the two groups of cavalry worked and trained together, though not always without tension.

  Gaston shook his head. “As far as I can tell Captain Hothgaard accepts your role as King completely…Mastoc is dead, but before he died he allied himself with the Tars of Sinis which the Captain found insulting and a bit distasteful. I think he can be trusted…it’s the rest of the Knights I’m unsure of.”

  “How so?” Lonogan asked with a frown.

  “I just don’t know them, or how loyal they are to Hothgaard himself, after all, he lead them to their first real defeat in over a thousand years.”

  “It is a worry,” Gwaynn admitted, pausing every so often to acknowledge a greeting from a shop keeper or maid on the street. A group of small children had taken to following them through the roads of lower Manse, laughing and squealing and marching about, but they kept their distance so the three men ignored them. “We may not need their support to conquer the King’s Island, but my gut says it could lead to disaster if we do not take them along, at least symbolically. Their presence will go a long way to legitimizing my rule.”

  Bock smiled. “What else does your gut tell you?”

  Gwaynn grinned as they walked up on a large three story inn. It was familiar, not quite the same, but close. “It tells me I’m very hungry. Let’s join Taylor for an early lunch…if he’s around.”

  “I’d hoped you’d say that,” replied Lonogan, but Gaston begged off. He was overseeing the ever growing herds…nearly three dozen mares were pregnant and would be delivering their foals in the spring.

  Taylor was off on a buying trip…bed sheets and covers, but Carolyn his plump, severe wife greeted Gwaynn as if he was the High King himself…which in fact he was. She led them to a new private dining room behind the bar. Gwaynn allowed this because the constant looks of awe and excitement from the people around him were becoming a bit unnerving.

  They ate and drank in silence for a time, Bock for about ten minutes, Gwaynn for nearly three quarters of an hour, with Carolyn fawning over them the entire time, but when they were finished both felt sated and comfortable.

  “Leave the pitcher Madame Carolyn if you will,” Gwaynn said by way of dismissal and the old woman caught the hint immediately and left without question.

  “Have you given any thought to how you’ll rule Massi?” Gwaynn asked bluntly after the woman had gone. He caught Lonogan in the middle of a sip of beer and he had to fight to keep from spitting it all over his King.

  “You’re joking,” Bock barked and his stomach clenched. This would not do. Ruling Massi was not in his plans.

  “I’m not.”

  “Surely you have a cousin…an uncle…some close family member fit to rule,” Bock demanded, wondering how he was going to decline the offer if Gwaynn continued to push.

  “I do not,” Gwaynn replied, slightly amused by his friend’s attitude. “You’ve fought with me all over Massi. Have I called any of my trusted lieutenants’ cousin, or uncle? I have an elderly aunt living up near Heron…but she’s not able, nor willing.”

  Lonogan frowned and downed his beer in five large gulps. He filled his cup again just as quickly. “But to rule Massi in your stead…” he began.

  “Not in my stead…as King. Of course you will have to change your last name,” Gwaynn added and Lonogan’s heart fell. Kings were not permitted to marry Travelers, or even keep one in country. It was considered too dangerous for the other royal families in the land.

  “But
…” Bock began and Gwaynn finally became aware of the unique nature of his friend’s distress. He guessed the cause immediately and smiled briefly.

  “What’s the problem?” Gwaynn asked, pretending ignorance, and was surprised when Lonogan gulped at his beer once again, then stood and began to pace back and forth across the room, his boots knocking out the rhythm of his stride on the wooden floor. Gwaynn took pity on his older friend.

  “Are you afraid Jess will not like the idea of being Queen of Massi?”

  Lonogan stopped in his tracks and turned on the young man sitting calmly before him. “You know?”

  “That you planned to move to Light to be with her when the war was over?”

  Lonogan nodded.

  “No…I guessed.”

  “Did you mean what you said just now, about Jess being the Queen of Massi?

  Gwaynn nodded.

  “But how? It’s forbidden for a Traveler to live permanently off of Light or to marry anyone from a royal family.” Bock gave a little shiver at the mention of royalty. Even as a child he had never dreamed that one day he would have the chance to belong to such an exclusive group.

  “You’re forgetting something,” Gwaynn said with a large smile on his face. “I’m the High King.”

  ǂ

  Tar Nacht was in his room, throwing together his personal items and dressing to kill. Word had finally reached the King’s Island of the defeat of the Temple Knights along with vague and disturbing rumors of Prince Gwaynn Massi being crowned High King by the Tars of Noble.

  ‘It’s over!’ Nacht’s mind screamed as he quickly attached two spring knives, one to each forearm. He adeptly adjusted the tension then threw on an oversized black tunic with long billowing sleeves to hide the weapons. He was far from panic, but he knew time was against him. He gambled and lost everything. He strapped four more knives tightly around his calves, then pulled down the cuffs of his silk black pants and slipped on a pair of low boots. He was careful with all the weapons for his blades were always tipped with poison. If he could, he would take along a great deal of company when he finally went to meet the Black Horseman. The new High King was sure to move against Sinis, after all they had been trying frantically to kill him for more than two years, the young man must be aware of the fact.

  Nacht shook his head in disbelief. Sinis had sent a dozen Executioners to Massi plus nearly twice as many highly trained acolytes, and yet the Prince somehow managed to elude the death he so richly deserved.

  ‘It was uncanny; the work of providence,’ Nacht thought as he placed his kali at his waist.

  The door to his room flew open without warning and Queen Audra rushed in.

  “You can’t just leave me!” She screamed at the top of her voice causing the Tar of Sinis to flinch slightly.

  “I should kill you and be done with it,” he answered softly and glared at her, satisfied that she quickly came to a halt and then actually retreated a few paces. He began to draw his right kali from its sheath. “Save Gwaynn the trouble and perhaps he will forgive me.”

  Audra backed away another step and Nacht was pleased to see real fear in her eyes.

  “But…but you promised to support me…to back me against all my enemies,” she said and though she was beautiful, even heavy with child as she was, Nacht could hear the pout of a little girl in her voice.

  Nacht slammed his kali back in its sheath and turned his back on her, stuffing the one pack he would be taking with him with extra clothes and weapons.

  “You promised!” She insisted, her voice growing a bit stronger now that the immediate threat of death seemed to have past. The young Queen watched him with dismay and rising panic. Everyone had abandoned her; Caiman, her father and brother and Captain Hothgaard, who if the rumors were true was now marching with the traitor from Massi…and now Tar Nacht and the Executioners from Sinis. She was alone and her life was in peril. Gwaynn would kill her, she had little doubt that and he would kill precious Aiden and her still unborn child. It was the only way he could secure lasting power for himself and his own children.

  “Take us with you,” she blurted, suddenly very willing to throw her rule in the dust if it meant life for herself and her children.

  Nacht laughed and turned to her. “You’re serious,” he said, grabbing his broadsword from the corner. “How fast can you waddle your Highness? Not fast enough I’d guess. And you would be so easy to hide, so inconspicuous. I never took you for a fool!”

  He looked at her a moment, then began to push past her, just as shouts and warning bells began to sound in the courtyard beyond. Nacht stopped in his tracks, unaware that Audra was now clutching his upper arm tightly. Unconsciously he threw off her grip and sped across the room to the balcony. Audra, despite her condition was right behind him, waddling surprisingly fast.

  They reached the stone railing just in time to see an enormous Traveler bridge pop out of existence, but they took no notice of it, both were entranced by the large army of men and horses that had apparently poured from it and into the castle. There were hundreds upon hundreds…most dressed in the uniforms of the Temple Knights or else wore the colors of Massi, but here and there Nacht glimpsed the gray and royal blue of Noble among the hoards of fighters.

  ‘Such power!’ Nacht thought awed, and strangely curious. Such a large stable bridge would take a number of Travelers…maybe as many as six or seven. It seems more Travelers had survived than was widely known. “The Travelers finally have their revenge,” he stated softly. “Your husband was a dupe.”

  Audra made no answer as they watched the defenses of Rosethorn Castle rapidly disintegrate. There was resistance from the men of Sinis, and a smattering from the royal guards of King’s Island. Nacht stared unmoving as he spotted a group of Executioners…fighting well against the mounted Temple Knights but falling quickly when a pair of Tars from Noble took to the fight.

  Nacht knew he should attempt to flee, but instead he stood rooted to the spot gazing down as the last of the opposition faltered and finally all was quiet. Moments later the door to his room burst open and a host of men rushed in. Nacht dropped his broadsword and whipped out his kali, and without thought threw himself at the invaders. Behind him Audra bent and picked up the heavy sword but did not draw it out. She simply held it before her, the point resting on the ground as the first men in the room rushed toward Nacht. In the lead were a host of soldiers from Massi and three died for their speed, after that the others held their distance until a small group from Noble pushed through the crowd.

  “Nacht,” a Tar of Noble said. “Stand down or die.”

  Nacht smiled, knowing he would surely die, fight or not, so he launched himself at the Tar with glee. But the Tar was an exceptional fighter and easily blocked the first flurry of blows the High Tar of Sinis threw at him. The Tar of Noble countered but Nacht was also very good and turned away each blade.

  More and more soldiers crowded into the room and at least three were also Tars of Noble, but they all remained near the edges of the fight, watching with tangible expectation. Nacht and Tar Endid, who he was fighting, exchanged several more parries before the High Executioner was able to recognize Prince Gwaynn, now the High King, standing near the door next to a broad, shaggy haired Tar. Nacht knew now was the time, the man he was fighting was good, very good and probably younger than he was by a good dozen years. Another flood of strikes rained down on the High Tar of Sinis but he managed to block them with grace and skill. Nacht sent his right arm swinging across the front of his body until it was aligned with his foe then he quickly launched the spring knife from beneath his sleeve, all while neatly blocking a kali aimed to remove his head from his shoulders. The knife shot from its hiding place incredibly fast and covered the distance between the two fighters in a blink. With a sharp thud the knife buried itself into Tar Endid’s left eye.

  Endid cried out and wavered for a moment, then staggered a few steps to his right before dropping hard to the floor. Nacht did not hesitate but raised his lef
t arm and pulled the trigger mechanism on his other spring knife. He aimed carefully, directly at Gwaynn’s heart. The young man was standing not twenty feet away, a ridiculously easy shot. As the knife fired and left his sleeve Nacht knew it was going to hit its mark.

  ‘The new High King is dead!’ He thought with a rush of pure joy and just a touch of pride. Most of those in the room were watching Tar Endid as he staggered and died, but Nacht had eyes only for Gwaynn, who surprisingly was gazing back directly into Nacht’s eyes as the knife streaked across the room. Astonishingly the young man was smiling, apparently unaware of the threat racing toward him.

  The knife flashed through the air covering the distance with incredible speed, but Nacht did not follow the path of the knife, did not take his eyes from Gwaynn. He wanted to see the moment of recognition when the knife slammed home. He wanted to see the moment of death. But instead the Tar who stood at Gwaynn’s side moved faster than was possible, faster than the eye could see. He reached out and actually caught the knife by the hilt, holding it steadily less than a foot from Gwaynn’s chest.

  “Tsk, tsk,” the strange Tar said shaking his bushy head and Nacht suddenly realized the man was Nev, the legendary Solitary and former Weapons Master to the High King. The Executioner felt a giddy wave of fear as Gwaynn smiled and extended one hand for the knife. Nev handed it over.

  Gwaynn paused for a moment. “For my mother and my sister,” he said softly and with another blur of movement too fast to see he threw. It crossed the room in a blink and hit Nacht just below the left shoulder. The Executioner grunted with surprise and looked down briefly then the world tottered and he fell. He felt a blinding pain as he hit the floor and the knife was pushed farther into his body, but then the poison began to work. He died quickly without a last sound or thought.

  ǂ

  It was late, past midnight, two days after the fall of King’s Island to the Massi forces. Gwaynn now occupied the throne of the High King. He was truly the recognized leader of the Inland Sea, and everything was quiet. Queen Audra and her son Aiden were now under guard, imprisoned in her rooms, awaiting Gwaynn’s decision whether they would live or die. To Audra it was turning into a very long wait.