Fil caught up with Jonas as he settled down on a large rock overlooking a sea of green trees, some still capped with a dusting of white snow. Fil sat next to him and they both stared at the wondrous sight in silence.
Finally Fil spoke, out of concern for his friend. “Are you going to be okay, Jonas?”
After a few moments Jonas glanced at Fil with a look of utter despair. “I don’t know. I’m so tired, Fil. Why does everyone I care about die?”
“I’m still alive,” Fil replied in jest. His smile disappeared quickly, seeing Jonas’s look. “I’m sorry, Jonas. It was the wrong thing to say. I’m not trying to make light of Taleen’s death. I just don’t have any answers for you.”
Jonas drew one of his sabers, holding the glinting blade sideways on his lap. “What good is this if it cannot protect the ones I love? What good is my commitment to Shyann if she cannot protect the ones I love? Our cause seems so hopeless, my friend.” Jonas slid the blade back into its scabbard. “How can we compete with evil that thrives on so much death?”
Fil looked out at the beautiful scenery and thought about Jonas’s questions. “Jonas, look at this place. It is beautiful. There is no way that chaos is supposed to rule this land. The land fights the stain of darkness every day. We are part of that fight. Taleen was part of that fight. I think that is the real difference between good and evil. The defenders of order and light work together, but the minions of darkness fight and jockey for power. I believe that to be their ultimate demise. They may win occasionally, but they cannot, and will not, win the war.”
“I wish I could believe that. I am beginning to lose my faith, Fil,” Jonas said sadly.
Fil patted Jonas on the leg, smiling brightly, trying in vain to lighten Jonas’s dark mood. “Good, then you are human like the rest of us,” Fil said. “Join the crowd, my friend. It is a rare man who does not falter occasionally. You will regain your confidence in yourself, and in Shyann,” he replied, getting up from the rock. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. We all know the risks, but we chose this fight because it is the right thing to do. Taleen chose that fight as well,” he added, leaving Jonas to the silence and his own thoughts.
The fire was dancing wildly as Durgen the dwarf added another massive log to the hot flames. Sitting around the fire and sharing a meal of freshly cooked venison were Jonas, Kilius, Myrell, Allindrian, Dandronis, and King Kromm, now awake and famished.
Hagar had not yet regained consciousness and his still form rested within reach of the firelight. Myrell took comfort in seeing his huge chest slowly move up and down. He was not out of danger, but at least he was still alive.
Kromm stuffed a huge piece of dripping deer meat into his mouth, washing it down with cold mountain water. He was famished, his body begging for nourishment. His wounds were completely healed; all that remained were pink scars. But they had left him tired and sore and he needed nourishment to complete his journey back to health.
The others ate heartily as well, many also feeling the drain of their wounds on their strength. Kilius and Fil were healing well, and they would be ready to travel by morning. They had just started discussing the morning plans as they began to consume their hot meal.
“Cavalier, I thank you again for coming to our aid, and my healing. I owe you my life,” the king said after draining his cup. “I’m afraid I would have bled out if you had not arrived in time.”
Jonas had been eating silently, deep in thought, but the king’s statement forced him to acknowledge the huge man.
“You owe me nothing. It was my mission,” Jonas replied flatly.
“Can you tell me why Shyann has sent you on such a long journey to reach me?” he asked.
“I do not know. All I know is that you play a vital role in the destruction of Malbeck.” Jonas paused, and then added, “Let us hope that you were worth the cost.” He continued eating, ripping a piece of deer meat from the bone, ignoring the stares of the others around the fire who had stopped eating and were now looking at Jonas with wide eyes. Even Fil could not believe that he had been so blunt with the king. Durgen chuckled softly, drinking from his mug. Allindrian looked away, dropping her head sadly, feeling the young man’s pain and knowing how out of character his remark was. Dandronis looked as if he were going to drop his food and leap over Durgen to get at the cavalier for being so disrespectful to his king. But he held himself in check, glancing at King Kromm, half expecting the huge warrior to go after him himself.
The king stared hard at the young cavalier. His brilliant blue eyes shone with anger, his body tensing, but it was brief, and he quickly resumed his normal demeanor. Jonas didn’t even look at the king, unaware of his remark, lost in thought, as he continued to eat his meal.
“Jonas, I am sorry for the loss of the cavalier, but…”
“Her name is, was, Taleen,” Jonas interrupted, looking up for the first time.
The king paused again, taken aback by his unseemly behavior. It was not often that people spoke to him in such a way, and if they did, it usually did not end well for them.
“Cavalier, you are young and inexperienced, and because of that I will forgive your rudeness…”
“Inexperienced! That is one thing I am not!” Jonas snapped at the king. “I have fought giants! Killed a Banthra! I have slain evil clerics of the Forsworn and demons sent to kill me. During all of this chaos people that I’ve come to love and trust have died, and for what?” Jonas was now on his feet and everyone was staring at him in shock. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wide with an anger that failed to mask his deep despair.
“Sit down, boy!” the king bellowed, standing up abruptly, his huge frame looming over Jonas. His voice was abnormally powerful and everyone at the fire leaned away from the strength of it. Even Jonas stepped back. There was something in the king’s voice that held no room for argument. The very ground shook with the power of it. All the men at the other fires jumped like scared rabbits as the king’s voice shattered the silent night. “You are a cavalier and that means something! Now start acting like one! We have all suffered! My men have died trying to protect me! My entire city burns as we speak. My people’s bodies rot as the night feeders desecrate their corpses! My wife and my son are gone! They are somewhere far away and are most likely being hunted just as I am!”
Jonas’s tense body suddenly relaxed, his intense anger evaporating as he dropped back down to his seat on the log, staring at the ground in silence.
“I know your sorrow, Cavalier,” continued the king, his voice softening, “but do not assume that you are the only one who has reason for grief. Look around you. Everyone hurts; death is following us, as it has followed you. You are indeed young to have done all that you said, and I’m sure you are a great warrior worthy of your status, but do not mock our pain again. It belittles you for doing so. Do I make myself clear?”
Jonas stared at the ground for a few moments, everyone staring at him in anticipation. The silence was tense while the king waited for an answer. Finally Jonas slowly lifted his head, looking at the king. His eyes were red and rimmed with tears. “I am sorry, to you all. I do not know what has overcome me. I have not been myself,” he said softly, wiping away a lone tear. “My sorrow sits on my heart like a demon’s fist, and it squeezes the hope from it. It hurts.”
“You are human,” said Durgen. “It is in your nature to be guided by your emotions, but I know your pain, young cavalier. I lost my only son days ago. This axe is all I have left of him.” The burly dwarf patted the beautiful weapon. “And this blade will drink the blood of chaos until I die and see me boy again in the halls of Moradin.
“I am sorry for your loss, Durgen. I truly am.” Jonas directed his gaze at the king who was looking at him intently, the anger he earlier expressed no longer evident. “King Kromm, I hope you will forgive my behavior, and my weakness. It seems my experience in battle does not carry over to my experience in life. I’m sorry for my poor judgment and the disrespect I have shown to you all.”
&n
bsp; The king nodded his head. “You are forgiven, Jonas.”
“Now that we have that out of the way, we need to speak of tomorrow,” interjected Allindrian. “Jonas, tomorrow we are entering the Hallows Road in hopes of getting to Cuthaine quickly. Will you be accompanying us?”
Everyone looked at Jonas hopefully, remembering Allindrian’s words earlier about their chance of success improving greatly if he accompanied them.
“I do not know the Hallows Road. What is it?” he asked.
“It is a place of darkness, where predators lurk around every gnarled tree. The realm is perpetually dark and permeated with evil, and those of light run a great risk entering this dark realm, for the beasts of the Hallows can sense them.”
“Where is this road?” asked Fil, speaking up for the first time.
“It is hard to explain. Think of the universe as an onion. Every layer is a world that is similar and different from the layer before, or after it. This world that you know is just one layer, with one set of rules. The Hallows Road is a thin layer that lies between our plane and the Abyss. And things there are…different.”
“Why do you want to enter such a place?” Jonas asked the question that Fil, Myrell, and Kilius were posing in their own minds.
“Time in the Hallows is different than time here. If we travel through the Hallows then we can get to Cuthaine, where we believe my wife and son are, in a matter of days rather than weeks,” the king answered firmly.
“But how do you know where to go, and how do we enter the Hallows?” Fil asked again before Jonas could ask the same question.
“I have traveled the Hallows before,” Allindrian said, “and I know the way, but it will not be without risk. On my own, I was able to circumvent the dangers there. But with a group this size, that may not be possible. That means we may have to fight. Some of us will likely perish in that dark place; but that number will be considerably less if you are with us, Jonas.”
“I see. King Kromm, my mission is to get you to Finarth in all haste. I do not know why but I know time is of the essence. Do we even know that your wife and son are in danger?”
“I will not leave without them. We leave for the Hallows first thing in the morning. The question is…will you be traveling with us?” the king asked.
Jonas looked at Fil, Myrell, and Kilius, before looking back at the king. “I will be by your side,” Jonas replied resolutely. “But I cannot speak for my companions; their paths are their own to choose.”
“I have already chosen,” Fil said without hesitation. “My spear is yours, King Kromm.”
Kilius looked at Myrell, trying to guess her decision, which was easy, for she immediately gave him an affirmative nod. “My sister and I go where Jonas goes,” Kilius said firmly.
“Very good,” replied the king, smiling. “We are grateful for
your swords.”
“Let us get some sleep,” suggested Allindrian, “we will move at first light.”
***
“What word do we have from our scouts?” asked Kiln to the group of men sitting around the large wooden table in the king’s audience hall. King Baylin was surrounded by General Gandarin, General Kuarin, General Ruthalis, Lieutenant Dagrinal, Lieutenant Graggis, and Captain Lathrin.
“Commander, no scouts have returned,” replied General Ruthalis. His handsome face could not mask his disappointment. The men around him felt the same. They were blind without information about Malbeck’s whereabouts.
Kiln ran his hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. He was worried. They had sent out scouts continuously for the last six weeks and none of the men had returned.
Where was Malbeck? They had to find out. They had to know if he was laying low for the winter and gathering strength or marching south from Tarsis. What were his plans? How much time did they have? The questions rolled around in his head constantly, making it difficult for the commander to sleep.
“What of our emissaries? Have we heard from the dwarves or elves yet?” asked the king.
The question brought Kiln from his thoughts. Kiln looked at King Baylin, who seemed to have aged ten years since the battle at the Lindsor Bridge. He appeared tired and his eyes were swollen and red from lack of sleep. We are a sorry bunch, thought Kiln, feeling immense empathy for the king.
“Sire, we have not yet heard from our emissaries. The road is long and full of dangers. I’m sure that news from them will arrive soon,” replied Kiln.
“Can we not contact the elves and dwarves magically, Sire? What of Alerion?” asked Dagrinal.
The king shook his head. “Alerion is in Mynos as we speak. He is busy with research on how to kill Malbeck. When he returns we will see if that can be done, but for now I place more value on trying to decipher the riddle.”
They had all been briefed on the riddle, and most of them held little faith that the answer to Malbeck’s death could be found in a riddle given to them by a demon. They held little trust in magic since they did not understand it.
“What of the training?” asked the king.
“It goes as well as it can. Our numbers are increasing, which is good, but that poses other problems.” Kiln paused. “Captain Lathrin, can you elaborate?”
“Yes, sir. The people are frightened, Sire. They have left their homes and they worry that their farms will be destroyed by the coming army. There are many good stout people flowing into Finarth, but with them comes the filth. Thieves and brigands are taking advantage of the situation, robbing and killing the refugees as they come in.”
“We are even having problems within the camps. Fighting and brawling is common, as well as thievery,” added Graggis.
“What have you done to correct the problems?” King Baylin asked, addressing Kiln.
“Sire, I have doubled the patrols at night, which has helped, but as our numbers increase so do our problems. Food and water are in short supply. Waste removal will soon be a big concern.”
“It is important that the people of Finarth feel safe. We must keep up their morale. Triple the patrols. Do whatever is necessary to put an end to these problems. This lawlessness and disorder will eat away at their courage and fortitude. Their resolve will blow away like the wind when Malbeck’s forces arrive,” added the king sternly.
“I understand, my King, but we are stretched thin. The losses at the Lindsor Bridge have hampered us greatly. Between our daily patrols, our training, and now our constant dealings with the thousands of refugees, well, we just don’t have the manpower,” Kiln replied wearily.
The king, rubbing his eyes in frustration, looked at his equally frustrated commanders. He knew that they had been working hard and they were pushing their men to their limits. He couldn’t ask more from them. And yet he had to. He pursed his lips in frustration as he spoke.
“You’ve all worked hard. I know you will not fail me, but we must put a stop to these bandits. Do what you must. Tomorrow I want ideas,” he demanded.
“Very well, Sire. We will find a solution,” Kiln said with renewed determination.
“You are dismissed,” said the king, standing up from the table. He had more work to do with his scribes. Vast amount of paperwork had to be perused as they had to figure out the daily problems of rationing and supplies, and how they were going to pay for everything.
The others got up as well, following the king from the chamber. Kiln stayed back, motioning for Dagrinal and Graggis to do the same. He busied himself with the maps and paper work on the table as the king and the other officers walked the long hallway to the main door leaving the audience chamber.
Dagrinal and Graggis looked at Kiln expectantly.
“You have an idea?” Dagrinal asked.
“I do,” Kiln replied with a sly smile.
***
Kiln pulled the hood of his cloak down low to shadow his face. The air was cold and he wrapped the edges of his dirt brown cloak around his arms to fight off the chill. His transformation was perfect. He looked like a refugee coming in fro
m the distant Finarthian lands. He walked with slumped shoulders as if he had journeyed a great distance. His clothes were worn and dirty and he led an oxen pulled cart filled with the belongings typical of a corn farmer. The old cloak covered his armor and his long sword was strapped to his back hidden under the cloak. All he had to do was throw the hood back and draw the weapon concealed behind his head.
Next to him rode Dagrinal on a tired old mule. He too wore a heavy travel cloak that had seen better days, but he also carried a little more baggage. Stuffed into the cloak were a handful of little round pillows to give him more girth and to add an ample bosom to his tall frame. His cloak was pulled around his face but he purposefully let several strands of long blonde hair hang loose across his large chest. The wig would not hide his identity in the open sun, but under the shadows of his hood it did the job. He looked like a big woman, but a woman nonetheless. It was not uncommon to find a farmer’s wife with the same girth.
Riding a wagon behind them was Graggis, also disguised as a burly farmer. He wore a creased straw hat and his clothes were made of dirty and threadbare wool. But hidden under it was his gleaming plate mail, and resting under the blanket on his seat was his formidable battle axe. His eyes scanned the forests under the brim of his hat.
The wagon was covered with the flaps drawn. To a bandit it would look like an easy target, but they did not know that in the wagon were five other knights who were armed with sword and crossbow. They were picked for their skills and their discretion, for Kiln did not want others to know what their plan was in case there were spies, which was a common resource used by thieves. Many bands bent on thievery used spies in cities to report the coming and going of trade caravans moving expensive goods and supplies from city to city.
The others were not so sure of Kiln’s plan. It was a risk, thought Kiln, as he scanned the road and the shadowed forest. The snows had started to fall and there was a thin dusting of white that gave the landscape a quiet solitude. The snow was beautiful, but thankfully not too deep, making the travel bearable. They had tried several different roads over the last few days and had yet to meet any bandits. But Kiln knew the brigands would be out looking for food and supplies to get them through the winter. The wagons would be a temptation they could not ignore.
The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 02 - The Rise of Malbeck Page 18