by Jason Malone
“Do you all think war is some kind of game?” Carol snapped. His advisors all bowed their heads. Only Roger and I looked at him. “How big did you say Stephan’s army was, Edward? Three thousand men? We have little more than one third of that, and many of them will die if we engage our enemies in battle. They are not pieces on a draughts board. They are brothers, husbands, fathers, and sons.”
“And how many will die if we besiege your fort?” Roger asked.
Carol clenched his jaw and looked to me for advice.
I shrugged. “I know little about strategy and war. But Lord King, I urge you to let me go to the fort alone. I will make the enemy leave, and then all you need to do is decide whether to stay here or march on Stephan.”
“And how could you possibly do that?” Roger retorted.
“I know the man who leads them. I think I can make some kind of arrangement with him.”
Roger opened his mouth to argue, but Carol raised a hand and he went quiet. “I trust you, Edward. I will allow you to go, but please do not fail me. I cannot beat Stephan if I am threatened from the west as well as the north,” Carol said. “And please, save my sister. Should I die, Clodild is the last of the Eomundson line.”
The other men began to protest, but Carol kept his hand up, raised his eyebrows, and looked each of them in the eye one by one, shutting them up.
Roger turned to me and gave a quick nod. “Do not fail, Godspeaker. Remember, it is my town and her citizens that are under threat.”
It is all Ardonn under threat, I thought. I bowed, and Carol dismissed me from his war council. I went up to the higher levels of the town hall to find my friends and tell them I was going north, alone. Carol’s fort was about a day or two’s ride from Tillysburg, and I planned to leave immediately and ride as fast as possible, even through the night if I needed to.
It would be a hard ride, through hills and up into the mountains, and Brand would hate me for it, but the fate of all hung in the balance. The fate of myself, the fate of my friends, and the fate of Ardonn.
The Gods were watching me closely now, placing bets on my every decision. It was possible that I would fail and that Emrys would be released and ride to ravage the kingdom, but I had to try.
Neither Dughlas nor Matilda were in their rooms, and I did not have time to search elsewhere, so I immediately began to pack my things. I got changed out of the clothes I was wearing and put on something warmer and more suitable for hiking.
I stared at my sword for a moment, wondering whether I should take it. A wise man would leave it behind, for why would any with his wits about him bring the one thing Hakon needed into an obvious trap? Yet a wise man I was not. I was young, hardly an experienced warrior, and in those days I did not want to imagine combat without that lucky Edin-forged blade in my hand. I clipped both dagger and sword to my belt, packed the rest of my tools and belongings into a bag, then headed for the door.
But the moment I opened it, I came face-to-face with Matilda, standing in the doorway. Her smile turned into a frown. “Where are you going?”
“Away,” I said.
I took a step forward and tried to get past her, but she put her arm against the doorframe and stopped me. She stared up into my eyes. “Where are you going?”
“I’m to rescue Philip. Hakon has captured Carol’s fort, and Philip is there, along with Carol’s sister. Will you let me pass?”
Matilda only stared at me as she processed what I had said. She took a deep breath. “You mean to go alone.”
“Yes.”
“You may die.”
“I will die, be it tomorrow or in a hundred years. But Carol’s fort has been guarding Emrys’s tomb this whole time. I have to stop Hakon.”
Without another word, Matilda threw her arms around me and buried her head in my chest. She knew there was no point in arguing and that I would never let her come along. Or perhaps she was tired of travelling.
Whatever the case may have been, she accepted that we were parting ways. She was saying goodbye for what may be the last time. I held her close, and the moment seemed to last forever. I did not want to let go. I had to conjure great will to pull myself away.
“Where is Dughlas?” I asked.
Matilda wiped her eyes. “We were looking around the markets. I forgot my coin purse, so I came back here to get it when I heard you in your room.”
“Go and tell him where I have gone. I will come back, Matilda. I won’t say goodbye, for we will see each other again.”
“Is that a promise?”
“It is a promise,” I said. I did not know if I was telling the truth. Matilda nodded and then looked down at her feet.
“Edward, I just want to say…” she began.
I held my finger to her lips. “No more words. Two nights, then we will see each other again.” I smiled, kissed her forehead, and pushed past her.
I did not turn back as I walked through the hallway and down the stairs. I needed to go, and if I had turned, or if Matilda had said one more word, I may not have been able to. I felt her standing there watching me as I left her behind, and my heart felt as though it was twisting up in knots.
I headed for the stables and mounted Brand. I guided him to the gate, kicked his side, cracked the reins, and the two of us raced north.
Would I see Matilda again?
I was fortunate. The skies were clear and there was little wind, so the weather was not an obstacle on my ride to the mountains. The hills were, though, but Brand was a strong horse and he could handle it. I pushed him hard that afternoon, but I was sure he would forgive me.
Night fell, but I kept riding. I had to pause to let Brand catch his breath every so often, and I let him drink whenever we found a stream or a pond, but I could not stop for long. The air turned bitterly cold very fast, and the enormous silhouettes of the mountains loomed above me like great giants. The moonlight reflected off their snowy peaks.
As we rode farther and farther uphill, the soil grew colder and harder, the trees grew sparser, and patches of snow dotted the ground. It also got windier, and in the distance I could hear the mountain passes howling like wolves.
It was around midnight when I found another stream, and I let the poor, tired Brand quench his thirst while I dismounted and rummaged through my bag to find him an apple. He eagerly munched on it. I stroked his neck, and he snorted his thanks.
But then I heard another noise. Something in the distance, getting closer and closer.
I shushed Brand, crouched low, then crept forward several paces to hide behind a boulder, squinting south into the distance. It was downhill, so was coming from the same direction I had come from, but I could barely see anything. The light from the moon and stars was all I had to guide me.
The sound was muffled by the echoes coming from the mountain pass to the north, but as it grew louder I realised it was hoofbeats. One horse, it sounded like. It moved with great haste.
I eased my sword from its sheath, taking care not to make a sound, for any noise I made would have echoed downhill. I crept back to Brand, my heart beating faster and faster, but before I could mount, the stranger’s horse skidded to a stop right behind me. I was too slow.
I spun around, and clutching my sword in both hands, I gave a yell and swung at the man atop the horse.
With blinding speed he drew his sword and parried my blow and then spurred his horse forward and kicked me in the chest with his boot. I fell backwards and dropped my sword, stunned.
“You pigshit,” the man growled. He jumped down from his horse and walked over to me. I could see only a shadow standing over me. He sheathed his sword, crouched down, and reached out his hand. “Do you know how hard I had to ride to catch up with you?”
I recognised the voice. It was Dughlas, and as my eyes focussed I saw him grinning, looking down at me with his one eye. I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me back to my feet.
“I told Matilda I was going alone,” I said. I should have been angry, but I was somewhat glad that I now had comp
any. I was beginning to wonder if riding through the mountains alone at night was a good idea.
“You really think I would have let you do that? Besides, she made a pitiful effort at stopping me,” he said. I chuckled, and he patted me on the chest. “Didn’t kick you too hard, did I? I forgot your ribs were sore.”
“I’m fine. Water your horse, and we’ll leave in a minute.”
“You don’t want to rest?”
“No. Not here, at least.”
And so Dughlas fed his horse and let him drink, and we filled our waterskins. We wasted no time in mounting again and heading deeper into the mountains. The air was certainly thinner up there, so we had to ride a little slower to ensure that the horses would not collapse from exhaustion. We rode for a few more hours, and although I wanted to keep going, the horses were beginning to protest. We had to find somewhere to rest, and so we chose a small outcrop to camp under.
Despite the sparsity of trees here, Dughlas managed to find a few pieces of deadwood, so we made a small fire under our natural shelter and huddled close to it, wrapped in our cloaks. Although we had fur and fire, we were still shivering.
“I am grateful you followed me,” I said.
“And I’m grateful you left. I was beginning to get sick of that stinking town.”
“I don’t know if I can stop Hakon. I feel it may all be hopeless,” I confessed.
Dughlas sighed and shrugged, then patted me on the shoulder with his big, gloved hand. “Have faith, Edward. All things happen for a reason. Even if we lose, at least we know we were the good guys.”
“Are we, though?”
“Of course. Edward, you are the most selfless, noble, and pious person I’ve ever met. You may seem reserved and lacking in empathy, but deep down I can see that you care immensely for the Gods, the land, and your people. And your friends. Who else would beat their horse to death riding into the mountains on a cold Dawning night?”
I chuckled, and a small rush of hope went through me. The tiredness hit me, so I decided to try to get some sleep. I lay down beside the fire, wrapped in fur, with my bag as a pillow. Dughlas stayed awake, and I quickly fell asleep to the melody of the whistling mountains. As I drifted, I pictured a chorus of elves singing softly to me in a warm, green wood, and then darkness.
I slept until dawn and was woken by Dughlas nudging my shoulder. I yawned, sat up, and found myself face-to-face with a spear. I lifted my hands and looked over at Dughlas, who also had a spear pointed at him. Three men stood before us, dressed in black. They were grinning.
“Edward, I presume?” one of the men asked. I nodded slowly, and they pulled their spears away. One of them kicked snow over the embers of our fire. “Our lord has been expecting you. You want an escort?”
“Do we have a choice?” I asked.
“We’re going to the same place, are we not? Might as well go together.”
Reluctantly, Dughlas and I packed up our things and mounted our horses. Brand was feeling much better after his rest, and surprisingly, the men did not confiscate our weapons.
We followed them up into the mountains and through the pass, which at some points was so narrow we could spread our arms and touch both sides at the same time. The pass was never wide enough for more than a dozen men marching abreast, and so any army coming this way would have a hard time. The men escorting us had to yell to talk to each other because the wind gushing through the passage was unbearably loud.
It was only a few more hours of riding through the pass to Carol’s fortress, and by the time we arrived it was late morning. The fortress was immense and looked virtually impenetrable. It was backed by a sheer rock cliff built into the mountain centuries ago. The stronghold’s stone bricks were large, dark, and heavy, presumably made using the cold rock dug from the surrounding mountains.
There was something unusual about this fortress, however — it seemed to be turned inside out. It had two walls, but where usually the inner wall would be higher than the outer wall, this fort had it backwards. The defences also seemed to be facing into the fort, rather than facing outside. It was built as though it was defending against an enemy within, and I supposed that would be true if Hakon was right about the location of Emrys.
Still, even if it was attacked from the outside, the formidable walls would take thousands to conquer if it was properly defended, and I imagine it could survive over a year with only twenty men on its walls. Hakon never should have been able to capture this place in one night.
The roof of the fort’s massive keep could be spotted peeking over the top of the walls. This would have housed Carol and his leading men when they lived here, but now it was home to Hakon and his henchmen.
Warriors dressed in black patrolled the outer wall, and a lone black banner with the emblem of a silver snake fluttered high above us. As we approached the iron gates, they opened one after the other to let us through, scraping against stone and causing the chains that lifted them to groan under their weight. Our escort led us inside the fortress as the gates closed behind us.
Once through, we found ourselves in a large courtyard packed with tents. Hakon’s men watched as we rode through, curious and excited. We stopped outside the keep’s enormous double door, and standing there before us in his rich garments and a thick black bearskin cloak was the man I had been hunting. Hakon. Our escort dismounted, bowed to him, then led their horses away to rest.
“Friends. I have been expecting you,” Hakon said. He had the air of a man who knows he has won.
“We aren’t your friends,” I snapped, quickly dismounting. Dughlas followed suit, and we put our hands on our swords. A crowd was beginning to form around us, so killing Hakon right now was out of the question.
Hakon looked genuinely offended. “Edward, please. I offer an opportunity to make some coin in these trying times, and you repay me by killing some of my best men. I forgave you for that out of the kindness of my heart, but now, when I offer you the comfort of my new home and extend to you the gesture of hospitality, you spit on me and threaten me.”
“Where is Philip?” I growled.
“He is here, resting.”
“Bring me to him.”
“Calm down, Edward. I can tell you are distressed, but he is unharmed. We have treated him nicely, in fact, as we do with all our guests.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said.
Hakon shrugged and then pointed towards me. “Why not ask him yourself?”
I turned, and there, standing behind me, was Philip. He was wrapped in leather and fur and appeared unhurt, but he looked a lot more miserable than he was the last time I saw him. He ran to stand between me and Dughlas. I put my arm around him and drew my sword. Dughlas tousled his curly hair. “I told your father I would keep you safe, didn’t I?”
“Yes, so I won’t tell him what happened,” Philip said.
I smirked but then frowned again at the sound of steel scraping leather. I looked back to Hakon, and some of his men had drawn their weapons and stood close by him, including a large, bearded, middle-aged man in fine mail. He wore a heavy wolfskin cloak, which was pinned together at the shoulder by a golden brooch in the shape of a dragon. I assumed from the brooch that this was Baldric and thus confirmed my suspicions that he had betrayed Carol. At what price Baldric sold this fortress to Hakon, I could only guess.
“Where is the princess Clodild?” I said. I glanced at the man with the brooch when I said her name, and he looked away.
“Princess?” Hakon said. His men laughed. “Edward the Rebel, I see. She is inside.”
“Take me to her.”
“I cannot do that, I am afraid. She is being prepared.”
“Prepared for what?”
“The sacrifice, of course. The blood of Emrys is required to unlock this prison, and that blood flows through Clodild’s veins. It was his descendent, after all, that married King Eomund, the founder of our kingdom. We will kill the girl, and when Emrys is restored to his rightful throne, little Clodild will
be remembered as the self-sacrificing saviour of our kingdom.”
My heart sank. As Hakon grinned at me, his wicked plans now crystal clear, I bent over and emptied my belly into the snow.
“What’s your plan?” Dughlas whispered to me.
We were being led by Hakon and two hundred of his men into an underground passage beneath the keep. The entrance to the passage had been concealed by a wall, but that wall had been knocked down and opened up to a damp, cold hallway, about six horses wide and three men tall. The hallway was sloped slightly and seemed to go on down forever into the darkness. Some of the men carried torches, but even they emitted little light.
As we marched down beneath the mountain, Hakon and his men chanted slow, melancholic songs from the times before Ardonn was unified. I can recall this passage:
The King that did die,
’Neath a mountain does lie.
For centuries he sleeps,
While the darkness creeps.
While the darkness creeps,
O’er the land while he sleeps.
But the King soon shall rise,
And all he’ll chastise.
He will usher in the night,
Gone is the light.
Gone is the light,
’Till the end of the night.
My master taught me the ancient tongue, so I could understand the words and what they meant, but I doubted many of these men did. The songs were haunting and gave me chills, but at least they drowned out the sounds of the rats that scurried past our feet.
Dughlas, Philip, and I walked side by side amongst all the men so that we could not try anything against Hakon’s wishes. He even let us keep our weapons in some proud display of the power he had over us, for it would be futile of us to use them then, though I knew I would be forced to give up my sword soon enough.
Hakon himself was the only man on a horse, and he rode with Clodild in his saddle ahead of the marching men, leading the way into the darkness. It was difficult to breathe down there, and I began to grow weary, but we kept on moving.
A worry crept into the back of my mind, telling me that all had been in vain. I had hastened to this fortress out of anger and desperation, but I had no real plan for how I was going to save Philip and Clodild, let alone retake the entire fort myself.