The War of the Pyromancer

by P D Ceanneir

  Telmar was scribbling furiously on the map. Elfric noticed he was numbering the cities exactly as they were on the wall. When he finally marked an eleven next to the small island continent that was Tattoium-Tarridun, he straightened up and looked at the map. Cokato saw the numbers were scattered, but had started at the top of the map and finished in the bottom in a spreading pattern.

  ‘As I thought,’ said Telmar mumbling to himself, ‘it’s moving south. But it should have been somewhere else, I’m missing something.’

  ‘My lord, what does all of this mean?’ asked Cokato.

  The baron spoke as if to himself. ‘It’s coming, it’s moving closer. I see it in my dreams, each city. All my equations have placed it in Dulan-Tiss next year, but I think I’m missing the name of the city before it is due to arrive here.’ He looked up at the tall Berserker. ‘Do you know of a city that was destroyed a hundred years ago close to the Plysarus Continent?’ Then he shook his head. ‘No, of course you wouldn’t. You are too young. I could ask Lord Joaquin I suppose.’

  Then Cokato said, ‘Hildbern,’ so loudly that he even surprised himself.

  Telmar looked at him with very sane focused eyes resembling cold steel in the darker edges of his grey irises. ‘What?’

  ‘My people are not native to the Hotten Isle. We left the Hinterland mainland many years ago after our leader Jarl Bornin slept with King Jonick of Hinterland’s wife over four hundred years ago. We settled on the large island of Nothgorge and made a city there called Hildbern, which means Fort on the High Hill.

  ‘Then over a hundred and fifty years ago something terrible destroyed it,’ said Elfric sadly.

  Telmar gripped the Berserkers shoulders and looked into his eyes. ‘Was it the Door?’

  Cokato gasped. ‘How could you know of the Door? It is part of Hinterland lore.’

  Telmar swept one arm towards the city names on the wall. ‘It is also part of the myth that explains the destruction of all of these places.’

  ‘How can that be?’

  Telmar shrugged. ‘If what you say is right, then I have my missing city. Tell me Cokato, what happened?’

  ‘I know not.’ Elfric shook his head. ‘The story is rarely spoken of these days. When we were young my parents said that a creature called the Helbringer came from this Door, but Lars, my father’s old Loremaster, will know more. He is the only one alive from that time.’

  ‘Is he on Hotten Isle?’

  Elfric nodded. ‘I have already sent word to my father, our Jarl and chieftain, to send more men. He will come with his personal entourage, including his Loremaster.’

  Just then Harlequin spun in Basilisks cradle. ‘I would suggest landing your father’s long boats in Keveni Bay, Master Aelfric.’

  Both Telmar and the Berserker looked at the white orb.

  ‘Why?’ asked Telmar.

  ‘History records that Lord Mauldorne, the cousin of Duke Cormack, will raise the Keveni levies against you in retaliation for his liege lord’s death, he will not expect a seaborne attack.’

  Telmar smiled. ‘Are you breaking the Principle Edict in telling me this, Harlequin?’

  ‘Not necessarily, master, the event will take place. I am merely pointing out the cause and effect.’

  Telmar laughed. ‘Very well.’ He turned to a confused Cokato. ‘Keveni it is then, my friend. Send word.’

  3

  The coronation of King Telmar of the House of Tressel was a very short, low-key affair.

  Lord Joaquin, Count Talien, Kelpo, Sandbrea, Withermorne and Edgemuir, along with some minor lords and representatives from parliament that were pardoned by the baron because they had no attachment with the Brethac Order, watched a rather nervous Lord Selwin crown the former baron. Some of the late King Sallen’s retinue attended along with Burgh Lords, councillors and Landed Gentry, even down to the royal smith who had the job of tinkering with the crown due to it being too large for the baron’s head.

  Royal patronage was highly prized in Tarridun, no matter who king was.

  The Caput of the Vallkyte Kings is the old castle chapel of the ancient Arcun Ken, a long narrow building with a single aisle and stacked rows of polished mahogany pews in either side of it. The aisle led to a tall stone-carved statue of the My’thos god, Arcun, his legs and arms acted as the throne for crowning.

  Telmar sat still and calm. He had finally taken a long hot bath and was more his normal self, with newly trimmed hair and beard. He wore a dark brown tunic with his family coat of arms emblazoned on it that of a gryphon in flight, and a purple ermine cape with white fox fur trim. He held the Royal Sceptre of the Venerators in one hand, a long steel pole with an onyx ball at the top decorated in gold and rich gems. He also held a large round tablet of brass that was the Royal Seal of the Chancellery.

  Beside him lay the massive Broadsword of King Nathan, his distant ancestor and first king of the Vallkytes. It was so heavy that even the burly Cokato had difficulty carrying it to the throne and it now leant up against an ornate stand made of rosewood.

  Lord Selwin, as designated crowner, haltingly spoke the words of anointment as he placed the large gold and silver crown on Telmar’s head. Telmar repeated the sacred words and Selwin stepped away from him to allow the congregation of nobles to queue up one at a time to swear fealty to their new liege lord. The whole display took no longer than half an hour, while the oath swearing lasted most of the day.

  Joaquin Ri, in his capacity as the new kings Consul, was the first to pledge his oath. He and Count Talien had force-marched their men to the capital for two days, arriving with only hours to spare before the coronation began. Now most of their combined host camped outside the city’s west gate.

  After the receiving of the oaths, the new king gave a short speech, and because most of the lords of parliament attended, he called his first parliament meeting. The small chapel was as good a place as any to hold it, mainly due to parts of the Parliament Halls still smouldering after the Pyromancer’s exuberance at the Ancarryn.

  After the wholesale slaughter of Sallen’s parliamentary members, this meeting started nervously. Most there were aware of the king’s madness and the anger of Joaquin Ri when he’d heard about the beheadings. He would rather have had them banished. He also realised that Telmar not only secured his place as monarch through violence but also eradicated key members of the Brethac Ziggurat in those he had dispatched. It must also be noted that the Ri had many enemies in the previous parliament which made him question his loyalty to the previous king and the Order itself. Guilt wracked him constantly and his decision to give Telmar his support would be the turning point in the conflict that followed. Yet the doubt remained; he wondered, not for the first time, if he had helped replace one mad king for another.

  The Ri’s worries were quelled slightly as the new king began addressing the assembled lords in a jovial manner, allaying many fears of his sanity. Telmar delighted, and surprised, the parliament lords by giving them supreme governing power within the capital, but only through his control of the Royal Privy Council, which he was in the process of forming again. He also declared Martial Law. This was not surprising. Duke Klingspur’s mustering of forces in the west along with Lord Mauldorne’s uprising in the south was a declaration of war, which Telmar promised to put a stop to.

  Formalities towards the end of king’s parliament were disturbed by one of Cokato’s men as he burst through the door of the chapel. He was a scout sent to the south over five days before.

  Telmar stood. When the king stands so must everyone else and the chapel became a room of rustling clothing and disgruntled murmurs at the disruption of the intruder. Cokato listened to the message from his scout, realising it had to be important for him to enter the chapel unasked.

  Cokato turned to the king. ‘Apologies, your majesty,’ he said, and Telmar waved his hand for everyone to sit.

  ‘It is quite alright, Aelfric, what is it?’

  ‘My scout has been observing the uprising in Keveni. He te
lls me Lord Mauldorne has a large host assembled with the intention of marching to Dulan-Tiss.’

  There were shouts and jeers at this news. Joaquin, standing next to Telmar, cursed, ‘that young popinjay has not a shred of intelligence to hold a host together, never mind use it against us.’

  ‘Nevertheless, we shall treat it as a threat,’ said Telmar.

  Cokato turned to his scout and nodded. ‘Tell him the rest.’

  The young Berserker did not appear nervous as he spoke, something Telmar liked about Cokato and his people.

  ‘I managed to get into Keveni Town three days ago, my lord, and witness Mauldorne himself address the population at the Toll Cross. He whipped them into a frenzy, I can tell you. He read from parchment, stating the “Tressel Regime” was already unlawful due to the charge of your murdering of Keveni’s heir by parliament, and he proposed to overthrow you in favour of Klingspur.

  ‘The words he used at the end of the speech were, I believe, blasphemous. He said: “We are the righteous that will smite the dark heart of the Pyromancer, Arcun and no quarter.”’

  All in the chapel stood and roared in anger, shaking fists in the air. Lord Joaquin, when he could make himself heard, spoke with venom.

  ‘How dare that young fool take our own shared deity as an excuse for his men to slaughter us without any chance of redemption?’

  Throughout all of this Telmar chuckled. The chapel went silent as they stared at him.

  ‘Worry not my lord Ri,’ he said with a smile. ‘We shall prevail.’ He then raised his voice as he stepped off the throne dais. ‘I call a Council of War.’ Loud raucous applause followed him as he left the room.

  4

  The oval-shaped State Room, mainly used for visiting dignitaries, now held Telmar’s war council because of the sizeable Map Table at one end which held detailed parchments of the city regions and the Tarridun Mountains. The table’s far end was once the base of an old oak, its surface had a three-dimensional representation of the territorial lands of Dulan, Wyani, Gazzen-sel and Bethlann. On it sat several small soapstone sculptures of mounted knights, with flags representing an army position. Currently three of these knights were flying the crest of Klingspur. The king pointed to one that sat in the south, in Keveni.

  ‘Mauldorne worries me little, though I hope Commander Cokato’s people get there to delay his march on the city.’

  Aelfric Cokato nodded and ignored the hisses from the men around him. The king had seen fit to give him a rank within the army, something that did not go down well with his peers.

  ‘The Jarl is on his way, majesty.’

  ‘How many men can he field?’ Telmar asked.

  ‘Before my capture so many years ago, he had a hundred and fifty longboats with an average of fifty Berserkers to each ship. He may have more now.’

  No one was hissing now. ‘So we can assume a minimum of seven thousand five hundred battle-hardened warriors with a penchant for Meade?’ there was a ripple of laughter. Telmar turned to Count Talien who he had made Captain-general of his armies. ‘My lord, remind me to put a strong detachment of men around the royal beehives.’

  More laughter and even Cokato joined in. It had the effect of enlightening the dark mood of the meeting.

  The king pointed to another knight model in the north, near the town of Aquen. ‘Klingspur’s adjutant, Baron Wilburton of Aquen guards the north while the duke himself is moving through Wyani,’ he said, finally pointing to the third piece. ‘Talien, you and your Wither Rangers will push west, right over the plain.’ He turned and pointed to Sandbrea, Withermorne and Edgemuir in turn. ‘My lords, you and your cavalry will flank the Captain-generals advance. I want you to act as flying columns, burning any village in your path.’

  ‘You wish to kill your subjects, majesty?’ exclaimed Joaquin Ri in horror.

  ‘No, my lord, there will be no slaying of innocents. Just move the people on, forcibly if need be. Hit the villages of Nott, Jarringmuir, Blackkettle, Moonhelm and Shirring Town,’ he said, pointing to the villages that ran from north to south. ‘I want smoke, and plenty of it.’

  Talien nodded. ‘I see what you have in mind. Klingspur will think a large army heads his way.’

  ‘Exactly, it will stop him from dithering in west Wyani and force him to act, though I task you not to engage him until I’m in position.’ He pointed to the Tarridun Ridge, exquisitely carved from wood so that even the hills had snow-capped peaks. ‘I will take the Berserkers, Kelpo’s archers, my Royal guardsmen, and two companies of Tarridun Regulars through the mountains and get behind him.’

  ‘That will give you only about eight hundred men,’ said Joaquin Ri, who Telmar had given the rank of Regent and ordered him to protect the citadel should Lord Mauldrone’s army appear. ‘Added to that,’ he continued, ‘the onset of winter will slow you down.’

  The king nodded. ‘I’m aware of that. That is why we must act now. Klingspur may decide to spend winter in his garrison at Duncattrine in preparation for the next campaigning season in spring. I want him nullified before then.’

  All those around the Map Table murmured and nodded.

  ‘So let it be,’ said Joaquin Ri. ‘Take up Arms and take Victory,’ he shouted, and the chant was taken up by all those around him.

  Telmar remained silent as he stared at the stone figurine of Klingspur’s army and wondered at both their fates.

  5

  It took a month before word of King Sallen’s death and Telmar’s crowning reached Aln-Tiss. Telmar himself wrote a letter to King Valient explaining the situation and his reasons for doing it. Grandfather, for his part, had actually liked the baron. Now he was cautious. He was the sort of king that liked the stability that his royal cousins in the east enforced on the people. Understandably, he could foresee danger on the horizon.

  He acted quickly. He took my youngest brother, Prince Hagan, out of the academy, promoted him to commander of the Dragorsloth Legion and sent him to co-command at Fort Curran where Marshall Praxes had jurisdiction. Father, being the De Proteous, remained in nominal charge of all the Rogun Army, although he relinquished command to others as the threat of invasion by the new Vallkyte king was relatively low and grandfather did not countermand his judgement. I went with him in support, because grandfather wanted us to both stay out of trouble yet he recognised that father and I were the best ambassadors he had in case the conflict in Tarridun spilled over into Tattoium. In truth, father had made a few enemies in the Rawn Academy for his flaunting of the rules. I also suspected that grandfather did not trust his only son’s loyalty to the Rogun cause where Telmar was concerned. I was to learn, many years later, that father had fallen out of favour with several members of the Brethac Order for his outspoken views on Telmar, most of them Rogun nobles.

  Fort Curran sits to the east of the Pander Pass. It held the garrison soldiers for Kasan’s own unit. Luckily, we saw little of my doleful brother who was off drilling his men constantly; shaping them into a crack army of veteran soldiers who called themselves the Young Wolves.

  We received little news as the war progressed over Dulan. When we did, we listened with open ears and minds.

  We learnt that four lords of the Barony Charter, the Barons of Chiltern, Farness, Lakemount and Leathern, had taken up arms for the new king and marched from Dutresi in the north east, swooping through the lands on their way west. On the fifteenth day of Jithi 2983 YOA, they met up with Lords Betany and Gillen, two barons of the charter but also members of the Brethac Ziggurat. The two forces met and fought a battle near Kerness. The battle was stalemate, but Betany and Gillen retreated into Kerness and fortified the town until Baron Wilburton and his host of two thousand Aquen Regulars came to their aid and saw off the four charter barons.

  As I look at the history books now I realise that the civil war was just a series of hateful infighting, an excuse to attack a disliked neighbour in the name of the king or duke just to settle years of dispute. The eventual disintegration of the Barony Charter was
just one of those isolated conflicts that would spring up throughout the coming months.

  Life in Curran was boring for my father who ached to do something. His prayers were answered when a letter from Soneros Ri arrived one day from the Eternal Forest. The Ri had been Consul to the Falesti queens for a number of years and he needed my father’s expertise in negotiating a treatise between the Falesti and the Dwarves who lived amongst them.

  As I expected, he took me along, for which I was grateful because I had never been inside the huge trees of the Eternal Forest.

  ‘With any luck, negotiations will take overlong and we can spend winter in the warmth of the forest,’ said my father as we packed our saddlebags.

  Winter was setting in, no ice crusted the ground yet but there were short bursts of snowfall for that month. By this time, King Telmar was deep inside the Tarridun Ridge and heading west. Count Talien and his host had cut a huge swath through the Dulan Plain, darkening the horizon with plumes of black smoke for miles around.

  In addition, Klingspur was moving his host east to meet him.

  The Battle

  of

  Glyn Brae

  “The Berserkers descended upon Klingspur’s horsemen and rolled them back towards their rear lines. The field was hedged with swan feathered arrows that impaled the brave Wyani dead.”

  The First Civil War: Ringwald the Tolerant

  1

  The weather was kind to the king. Telmar had forced a punishing pace on his eight hundred and thirty seven men as they traversed the high slopes of the Tarridun foothills. In two weeks they had had little rest or sleep and were exhausted to the point of collapse, but still the resolute nature of the new Vallkyte king spurred them on.

  At first, the pace was set by the fitter troops of the Berserkers who ran on ahead to scout the path. Kelpo’s men flagged behind, but still kept pace and rarely rested. Kelpo himself, the oldest of them all, proved to be very fit for his age, but at one stage the cold bit into his lungs and Telmar ordered them to rest until he regained his strength. Within two days Kelpo was up again and setting the pace.