The Best of Men - an epic fantasy (Song of Ages Book 1)

by Wilf Jones

  ‘It seems to me,’ said De Vere less sternly, ‘that the power went to your head, and I think you should try to understand why. I would have spoken before, Seama, but never had the chance, or after, but when you spoke lightly of being the best of men, how could I stay silent? People have been killed through no fault of their own; thousands are homeless as a consequence of your actions. You are supposed to be our beacon, you’re the source of all we know in this war, you are the best of men and yet so you acted, a slave to the power you wield. And you thought you had done nothing wrong? How does that leave us?’

  Seama looked desolate. Angren didn’t like it: there was muttering between several parties around the table.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘Can’t we move on? I don’t know about you but I think we all need a bit of a break. Why not—’

  General Alling got to his feet.

  ‘Finally we come to the point. Fellow councillors, I take this opportunity to advise you all that Seama Beltomé is, until his trial, under arrest at my command.’

  Angren’s response was predictable to some. He stood suddenly unbalancing his chair, and his leap covered the breadth of the table before the chair clattered to the floor. Almost between breaths, Angren had left his seat and tumbled his opponent to the floor. A knife appeared in his hand and it pressed close-in to Alling’s throat.

  Everyone else scrambled to their feet in alarm, but Seama’s voice rose over the many words of surprise.

  ‘Angren! Leave the General alone.’

  ‘But he has us by the balls, Seama. His troops are all over the palace. We won’t get out without him.’

  ‘We don’t need to get out, Angren. Leave him. Now! I’m sure we’re in no danger, though I’ll admit I’m a little confused by this. General?’

  Angren grudgingly let the General get up, but he kept his knife in hand and loosened the sheath of his sword.

  ‘It would seem that I have made a mistake,’ the General said coolly, and Angren harumphed, ‘in allowing you people to enter the chamber without confiscation of arms. Still no harm is done. You cannot leave: the exits are well guarded. Like your friend De Vere, Lord Wizard, I hold you solely responsible for our problems and you will answer a charge of murder by negligence.’

  Terrance was appalled. ‘But General, you have missed my point. We need this man. You cannot charge Seama with—’

  ‘I can, and have, Sir, and were the King well, I am sure he would support the charge.’

  Gurdy Younger was the first of Sirl’s ministers to speak: two others wanted time to consider, and the third, Fel Awdry, was so furious he couldn’t get the words out. Admiral Jom Alveson was pasty faced in the guilt of having discussed the move with Alling before breakfast. Mistress Younger said:

  ‘General Alling, need I remind you that the Lord Seama himself holds the King’s baton?’

  ‘No minister, but I wonder how he obtained it. The King is a sick man, if you take my meaning.’

  ‘I do, and I resent it, General.’

  They were not Gurdy’s words. She looked to the doorway where an elderly man had entered quietly. He was small, hunched at the shoulders and almost drowned in a mane and beard of wispy silver-grey hair. He looked so much older than his sixty years but his words were as clear and strong as ever.

  ‘I do not give up that rod lightly, Mart Alling,’ he continued, ‘Uh Bib took it without my consent and yet you and all my ministers appeared eager to accept his word and his authority. All that time I was held prisoner by his drugs and hypnotism. Now I understand that your actions too were proscribed by Dr Bliss. Let me say it this once: whatever Seama did to rid us of that leech was unimpeachable. Now, Alling, do you accept my unfettered word as law?’

  Alling’s cold face went red as he realized his position but then said with supplication rather than the innuendo his words might have suggested: ‘Gladly, majesty, providing you are again the King I knew and respected.’

  ‘Seama has healed me, Mart. Properly, not like Bliss’s so called healing. Friends all, take this moment not so ill. Mr. Nielderson blame him not so entirely and put away that blade. Mart has struggled to do the right thing in impossible circumstance these five months, with no help from me. That we are all confused is no surprise when we consider the wiles of our enemy. In ousting the usurper, saboteur, in destroying his minions, the Black Company, Seama has had a great victory. He has cured us all to fight better our next battle. We owe him thanks, General, not false retribution.’

  ‘It is a sad cure that ruins us, My King.’

  ‘It is sad indeed, but what have we lost? There have been casualties and that cannot be mended and for those brothers and sisters we mourn. The transitory works of our race, artifacts of art, of our science, the physical expression of what we are, have been ravaged, obliterated. For that I do not mourn in the least. Because Seama has rescued something far more important: he has given us back freedom, he has broken the spell, released the bonds that held us. What makes us who we are was under threat but, thanks to Seama’s intervention, we live again, not just to fight another day, but to build anew, to create a world around us with more urgency, with more vitality than ever before.

  ‘Now hard times are coming but at least we face those times as we should: free, dynamic, determined. If we survive the coming war all of this must enrich our understanding. We shall miss our past glories, of course we will, but we are the makers of our own world; we cannot sit still with minds siezed with the memory of what is gone; we stride on, seeking out the future. That is the Gothery I know, that is the true nature of our people.

  ‘Mr Nielderson, will you not return to your seat? We are all friends here.’

  Angren jumped at his name. The King had spoken with such authority and such vision that Angren was lost in thought. ‘Your Majesty, at once,’ he said promptly, and with a respectful bow. He returned to his place and righted his chair. The King continued:

  ‘And so, friends, in this new mood, shall we now carry on? There’s much to be done. The enemy is at our door and we need to start making plans.’

  THE END TO A BUSY MORNING

  Astoril 3057.8.8

  During the ensuing pause King Sirl took up ‘Berta’s unused seat, refusing the chair at the head of the table. Angren was impressed.

  Keth Hardy, the Prime Minister, greeted his King formally, as the occasion demanded, but then continued more naturally.

  ‘Glad as I am to see you,’ he said, ‘I wonder if you should be out of your bed so soon. Seama said the poison was still in you. We don’t want to risk losing you again.’

  ‘I hope you’re not going to start nagging me before I’m completely recovered, Keth. I’m tired, I’ll admit, but I can sit here quiet and listen. Tell him, Seama.’

  ‘I’m no true doctor, Sirl,’ the wizard said. He had regained his composure during Sirl’s speech and now looked as confident as ever. ‘However, if I’m not mistaken, you suffered the worst of it yesterday with the antidote, so I suppose it will be alright.’

  ‘Right then, let’s get on with it.’

  ‘Lord Seama, could you give the King a resumé,’ said Hardy, falling into his regular role of chairman, ‘or is the King already familiar with our situation?’

  ‘Oh, I know quite a bit about what Seama has been up to, and about his reading of the situation. I’d already heard of The Song of Ages, so I’m sure it’s all rather less of a surprise for me than for you. When Bliss first came to us he simply came straight out with it and asked to see Banya’s copy. I was intrigued and he was impatient but we were both frustrated: as hard as we looked it remained unfound. Of course the fact that he asked for the text adds considerable weight to Seama’s theory, wouldn’t you think?’

  ‘But you couldn’t find it? Doesn’t that mean it’s not there?’

  ‘Hard to say, Mr Nielderson, it’s a big libr
ary. But I’ve had my Librarian looking all this time, and there’s still no trace.’

  ‘Good,’ said Seama. ‘That’s very encouraging.’

  Angren was confused.

  ‘How’s that good?’

  ‘Well, in the preface to the copy I have,’ he explained, ‘Haslem made the point that the book would actively lose itself. He asked Banya to keep a secret record of where it was placed. That means that if the book is still in the library there’s likely to be information somewhere telling us approximately where we should look. There’s a fair chance I’ll find it. And that’s good because we need the full text. If we had the section covering The Incursion I think we’d find a detailed description of the passage the exiles made through the mountains. It’s my guess that Uh Bib did something to open up that passage. That’s how he came to Kyzylkum, how he gained his new master and undertook his commission.’

  ‘To prepare the way for a conquering army?’

  ‘Yes, General Alling.’

  Alling had looked a changed man since his King had arrived. Angren wondered whether he ought to rethink his opinion of the him. He was certainly single minded in his devotion to king and country and that wasn’t such a bad thing. Now that he wasn’t trying to get them all locked up, Angren decided that his professionalism at least was actually something to be admired.

  ‘Then, how long do we have before this army arrives?’

  ‘A part of it has arrived already. Tregar with Anparas and Temor must face them soon, if they haven’t already done so.’

  ‘What makes you think it only the vanguard?’

  ‘I don’t think it, I just hope. But would Uh Bib want the major force here before this damaging war with Athoff was done? The scheme is to deplete us before they make their move. What Tregar faces is the first foray, a trial run.’

  ‘Then that is our chance.’

  ‘Just so, General Alling. Providing we can engineer some sort of reply to those already here, my effort must be given to finding the passage and somehow blocking the entry of the greater force. That’s why you are here, ladies and gentlemen. Our agreement and commitment must be the first step that will bring the nations together to face this menace of the deep past. The time has come, for decisions. King Sirl has given me his answer, but if we decide to act, we must act as one. How do you decide?’

  Angren wasn’t surprised that no one wanted to be first. He was surprised that it was Valdez who broke the silence. So far he’d opened his mouth only to yawn. He cleared his throat and began in a rough deep voice:

  ‘Lord Seama, you knew my answer at the moment of my arrival in Astoril. You people need a lot of talk to come to the obvious, I do not. Let me tell you why I say yes.’

  ‘This is how it was,’ said the Duke. ‘Fourteen days past, heralds came to me. They were Athoff’s men. It is our custom to make strangers welcome and they were honoured. At meat they spoke Athoff’s words for him, asking for my support. ‘In what’, I asked. ‘In the war with Gothery’, they said and began to make their case. I let them continue without saying yes or no. They told me that Athoff’s army was nearly complete. Aside from Valdez and two others, every Lord north and west of the forests, and south of the lights had already sworn allegiance to the King’s son. Soon, they said, the tally would be filled. Counting chickens, I think.’

  ‘Excuse me, Duke Valdez.’

  ‘Angren Nielderson. I said we would meet again, but I did not expect it to be in Astoril.’

  ‘Same here. But did I hear you say ‘every Lord south of the lights’?’

  ‘Yes, Angren. Terremark is unmoved. Your father, I’m told, threatened to have Athoff’s herald tarred and feathered if he returned. The others are Drafas and Kelle, and I know the Drafasians have no time for Athoff.‘

  Tys Heald voiced a question that all wanted to ask. ‘Are we to understand by your presence, that you too have no time for Athoff and propose to come in on our side?’

  ‘That is the sum.’

  ‘May I ask why?’

  ‘Five days ago I met with an extraordinary man: Oswaldo Bassalo. He carried a message from Lord Seama, but more than that he carried witness to a crime that I cannot and will not see rewarded. Already my people were seeking out that foul crew. There is a distance between Ciudad Valdez and The Saddle and often tales grow with the miles but I do not seek an excuse: we were slow to respond to the needs of our people, slow to understand the horror of their bloody career, slow to count this Black Company the enemy of all good men. It is shame to me to admit this much.

  ‘We have heard Seama draw together the elements of this plot of war. Ringsøyr, the Black Company: they are the same enemy. The decision is easy to make. My loyalty is given to Agwis King, not to his so-called regent. Agwis could never want war with Pars or with Gothery. It is easy to believe Athoff a traitor to us all. So, I have chosen my side and I accept Seama’s word as command.’

  ‘Now hang on: you said the heralds turned up two weeks ago. If they call themselves heralds doesn’t it suggest that there’s an army not far behind them?’

  ‘Mr Nielderson, that thought came to me also, and so I had scouts sent out to see what was truth and what not. Do not worry about the words he uses. Athoff is too grand to have messengers but the fact remains that the scouts found nothing of Athoff’s army within one hundred miles of my borders. The rumour is that the force he has gathered sits on the Langeland Street seventy miles shy of the Turnpike. Rumour says he’s finding it hard work keeping all those gathered watered and fed. Meanwhile Athoff besets the Hundred Kingdoms making speeches. He is far from ready.’

  ‘Well that sounds all very well but, call me a pessimist if you like, Athoff could still be knocking on our door in two weeks flat.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Nielderson. I think he will wait some time for news of the other Dukedoms. It is a long journey to Kellestan and he could not expect their reply for some days. His route must be determined by their decision. Together, the three of us, Valdez, Drafas, Kelle, we span Gothery’s northern border. With Drafas and Kelle to support him he will feel he can cross my borders with impunity. Without them… well he would have to be mad to try it. All is changed for him if he has to come at Gothery from the south.’

  ‘What is your guess?’

  ‘At the very worst we will see their swords in three weeks. I think not before.’

  ‘Lord Seama,’ Alling cleared his throat and Angren thought he looked embarrassed to speak, ‘You say we can get no help from Pars, or implied it, but surely we must at least co-ordinate our defence. We must act as one force, and yet we have not so far considered our long allegiance or had any word from Mador or his people.’

  ‘His representative here is the Lady Sigrid Althoné, and I’m sure that shortly we’ll have her thoughts on the matter, but remember the real problem: out there, somewhere in the Norberry Part, my friend, Tregar MacNabaer with two of the King’s finest armies are facing already an enemy beyond the imagining of Athoff Ringsøyr. I know this in my heart. Do not expect help from the east. Mador of Pars has enough troubles of his own. However news must travel between us – we must share whatever knowledge we gain. And so I have given thought to that already. You may think we’ve had something of a busy morning ourselves but, believe me, others toil also on our behalf.

  ‘But councillors, before we continue, I am still waiting for answers! I want nothing taken for granted. This is a business far too serious for us to presume allegiance where there is none. General Alling?’

  ‘My allegiance is to King Sirl who I think has given you his backing, but I do offer my personal support.’

  ‘And I’, said Jom Alveson, seemingly eager to be thought keen and ready, and then one by one each member of the council said aye without retraction, and when they had done Sirl yawned and stretched.

  ‘Well Seama,’ he said, ‘what n
ow?’

  ‘For us, lunch. For you, bed for a few hours. Then we will get down to the real business. Look, here’s Garaid, just in time to fill his belly.’ Over by the doorway officials were checking the big man’s name against the description Seama had given them.

  ‘Gentlemen, and ladies,’ the wizard said by way of introduction as he was let in, ‘here is the man set to spy on me.’

  The effect was remarkable. The strangely smiling features showed surprise before the ‘spy’s’ face turned a choking red, and he collapsed, gasping and writhing as though his body was fighting itself.

  They were quickly to his side and something Seama did quieted him. When the wizard was satisfied Garaid was not dying he allowed attendants to stretcher him to the hospital.

  Angren was perhaps less astonished than everyone else, but not much.

  ‘The strain got to him at last,’ he explained to anyone who cared to listen.

  Bibron nodded agreement, saying: ‘Shame to see a good man suffering like that. Let’s hope they can do something for him.’

  ‘Well, Captain,’ Angren assured him, ‘The Garra I’ve got to know is a fighter. You saw him on Tumboll. There’s no way a man like that’ll just lie down and give up. Trust me, he’ll be back on his own two feet in no time.’

  BRINK OF WAR

  Francon Valley 3057.8.8

  ‘You’re being totally ridiculous, Shaf.’ Tregar had lost his temper at last. He had been doing well to ignore the impetuosity that was exhausting the army, the mad rush that Temor lead, regardless of the hard terrain, heedless of the grunts and groans. He could excuse that. It was the duty of the leader to extract as much effort as possible; his job to get them to the Francon in good time. Even if the man did rant and rave like a blood-crazed berserker about the glories of war and the gruesome things he was going to do to his enemy, so what? Tregar had always thought that men should be judged by their actions, not their words.