by Rob Donovan
"I've not read much, but if books are like the bard's songs then war is often romanticised and made to appear to be more glamorous than the reality. Even the strategies which were used are told so that they appear like an art form. A construction of brilliant minds and shrewd men."
"You are not too far from the truth," the Prince admitted. "Perhaps I will have all the books burned." Cody was shocked at the notion but when he looked at the Prince he was relieved to see he was being teased. "Tell me what happened after you left my father."
Cody began to tell the Prince about all that had happened. Althalos obviously already knew about the King and the Knights defeating the Gloom but he still insisted Cody tell that part of the story. Cody did not question this but did wonder why he was being asked to re-tell this story. It was almost as if the Prince was testing Cody for the accuracy of his memory.
What the Prince did not know was the venture into the unknown expanse of the Calipion Range. He was fascinated by the snow piranha and seemed terrified by the Stones of Sorrow. Cody did not share his own vision of madness but he described how vivid the illusions were and how everyone doubted themselves. The Prince had not been close to Isiah the Heartless Knight but he looked pained upon hearing of his death.
Cody rushed through the story as quickly as the Prince would allow, he did not want to revisit his time at the Stones of Sorrow. The Prince had plenty of questions however, what did the Clementine tree look like? Why did he think the crows were there? Did the colossal statue resemble Xandamon? Cody answered the best he could but in truth he did not know the answers any more than the Prince did. He supposed the statue looked a little like Xandamon.
The Prince clenched his fists and looked to be frustrated at Cody’s account and the Truth Knight could not help but think he was disappointing the Prince with his lack of detail. He had never been a story teller and was used to providing just the facts, omitting everything else that was not relevant.
“So, Janna entered the Realm of the Glooms first and the rest of you had to wait,” the Prince finally said moving the story along. Cody took another sip of the sickly, sweet drink to wet his lips. It did not taste any better. He described in as much detail as he could the journey he and Tristan had made into the fortress. Once again, the Prince peppered him with questions: Who did the albino creatures resemble? What did they live on? Was the fortress their home or did they just inhabit it?
Cody found himself shrugging his shoulders more and more and apologising for his lack of knowledge. He tried to divert the Prince from asking questions and continuing his story. He recalled the frantic sprint towards the portal and the pursuit by the snow piranha and the attack from the albino creatures and then…nothing. Try as he might he could not properly recall what the Realm of the Glooms was like.
“And then what happened? What did their world look like?” the Prince prompted. Cody realised he had fallen silent. He opened his mouth to continue his story but the words would not come. It was like attempting to recall a vivid dream only that when you tried to speak of it the details faded away.
“It was white, very white and not at all sinister,” Cody said.
“What do you mean?” the Prince asked. He frowned at the Truth Knight and glanced down at the drink as if he expected him to drink more of it. Cody obliged but it did not help his recollection. A woman called Annalua came to his mind but he could not recall who she was or what she looked like only that she had an irritating laugh. He knew that his wife was dead, that his daughter was not although he could not say how he knew. This latter part annoyed Cody; he thought he should know more. “Cody?” the Prince prompted.
Cody ignored him as he desperately tried to remember what had happened as he entered the Realm of the Glooms. There was sadness as he remembered that Tristan had lost his life there, Mondorlous was still alive but he did not know why the giant member of the Order had not returned to Frindoth.
“Cody?”
“I don’t recall.” Cody finally admitted. “I can recall flashes of images but they disappear even as I think about them. It is like trying to catch water in my hands.”
“That makes no sense” Althalos said, as he leaned forward in his chair and stroked his chin.
“No,” Cody said. “It really doesn’t.”
“What’s the next thing you remember?”
Cody did not have to think hard. By contrast the memories of returning to Frindoth were vivid. “Waking up just outside Compton. Basically, everything I told you and the Warlords earlier.”
“That is odd,” the Prince said. He must have seen the worry on Cody’s face as he tried to change the subject. “You never said why Marybeth is not here. Where are Marybeth and Janna now? I would expect a report from her in these troubling times.”
“She has gone back to the Marshes of the Night.”
“For a scroll?” the Prince asked.
“No, once we saw Xandamon and all of the Glooms she realised we need all the help we can get. She has gone to ask the Custodians if they can assist us.”
The Prince was silent for a moment as he considered Cody’s words. “Didn’t they almost kill her last time?”
“I don’t think so. She was certainly afraid of them but they let her through their ranks to escape. They obviously thought she was worthy.” Althalos drummed his fingers against the arms of the chair and looked out the window. “To be honest I didn’t think it was a bad idea. Marybeth cannot protect us by herself,” Cody added. He felt compelled to defend the witch. He might not have always seen things from her perspective but he knew her intentions were pure.
“It’s not that,” the Prince said. He got up and began pacing around the room. He stopped in front of a stone bust of a short haired man with a prominent nose and a small scar above his top lip. Cody had no idea who the statue was supposed to be. History was not his strongest subject. Althalos traced his fingertip across the scar and scratched it as if it were a blemish which could be removed.
"And the girl? Janna?"
"She has been through a lot. She is resting in a tavern inside the city walls."
"I will need to speak to her."
"Of course, but I doubt she will tell you any more than I have."
Cody sat where he was, confused at the Prince’s behaviour. He drained the last dregs of the drink Ellorary had given him. It was now lukewarm and tasted as disgusting as ever. His headache had gone completely though so he supposed the drink had done its job.
The Prince suddenly whirled around and strode towards the door. He opened it and ordered the guards outside to leave their posts. When they hesitated, he shouted for them to go. He shut the door and then bolted it. Cody did not like the sudden change in the Prince’s behaviour and stood, not quite sure what to expect.
“Come with me,” the Prince said and moved to a spiral staircase leading to the balcony. Cody had no choice but to follow. The Prince led him to a table between two bookshelves at the back of the room. He leaned over the balcony as Cody reached him to check they were alone.
Cody had a sudden urge to laugh. The Prince’s actions seemed over the top considering he was in his own palace and in a locked room. Only the grave expression on his face stopped Cody from saying something trite. The Prince turned and pushed a book deeper into the shelf so that it aligned with the others. It left a pale brown smudge in the dust on the surface of the shelf. Cody read the title, the Mines of Delumovia, He wondered how boring the other books must be if this was the one which had been read recently.
“When I infiltrated the White City, I knew there were two men claiming to be Kings,” Althalos said. His voice was barely above a whisper and Cody had to lean closer to hear him. “One was Da Ville and the other was a mysterious figure who called himself the Desolate King. I spent the first few days in Lilyon avoiding Da Ville’s man and garnering support from my people. It wasn’t long until the Desolate King found me.”
“Who was he?”
“Jaegel.”
Cody pull
ed back to look at the Prince in shock. “The member of the Order?” The Prince nodded. As if sensing the mood, the sun disappeared behind a cloud, plunging the room into shadow.
“I thought he had no interest in the affairs of the people? Why would he want to rule them?”
“He didn’t. He wanted revenge on the Order. He captured me and offered me a deal. He would help me take the White City if I promised to do something for him.”
Cody’s mind reeled. He did not know Jaegel personally, but he knew of him. He was an odious member of the Order who enjoyed the powers he gained from the Order but was not interested in applying them to help others. Marybeth and Mondorlous had frequently mentioned Iskandar but had seldom spoken of Jaegel, the fourth member of the Order. Cody sensed this was mainly due to the guilt Mondorlous felt at turning on Jaegel and sentencing him to be hanged at the Ritual of the Stones but he also thought neither Mondorlous nor Marybeth had liked Jaegel.
“What did he want?”
The Prince looked over the balcony again and even checked the window to make sure they were alone. “What I am about to tell you goes against the deal I made with him. I don’t need to ask if I can trust you, but know that what I will tell you puts your life at risk.”
“What else is new?” Cody said and offered a weak smile the Prince did not return. “What is it?”
“I promised Jaegel that I would not stand in his way when he tried to kill the members of the Order.”
Cody stiffened. The revelation shocked him. Everything he knew about the Prince had led him to believe he was an honourable man who would never dream of standing aside and letting another be killed. “You knew he intended to kill Marybeth?”
The Prince’s shoulder’s sagged and he nodded sadly. “Yes.”
Cody was too stunned to feel angry. He thought of Marybeth and all she had sacrificed to try to make Frindoth a better place. She was once again putting her life in danger by approaching the Custodians. She had told Cody all about them and said they made the albino creatures of the fortress look like bunny rabbits.
“I need to warn her,” Cody said already running down the balcony. He was sure Jaegel had ways of finding out where the witch was heading.
“That is why I told you,” he heard the Prince say softly.
Chapter 16
The rider galloped away from Kana's castle. The horse's hooves pounded on the hard soil echoing all the way to where Vashna sat. There was no need for such haste. He knew what the rider would say before he reached his Warlord. Anyone could see Kana's home was deserted. He had been here months before when the Warlord of Shangon had been desperate for Vashna to enter his home. Vashna had mistakenly thought Kana felt insulted at the Yurisodian's hesitation to enter his home, he now knew it was because the Warlord could not wait to attempt to kill him.
"What are we going to do?" General Wray said. He too was not prepared to wait for the scout.
"We go back to the Prince," Benossa said. Vashna had not realised the large man had edged his horse forward and could hear the conversation. "His ridiculous sentence has backfired on him, hasn't it? Vashna you are free. He thought he was being clever sending us to fight his enemy for him and now his smug plan has fallen through. I for one cannot wait to see his face."
"Did I instruct you to join in the conversation?" General Wray asked. Benossa frowned at his captain but the severe look the captain gave Benossa was enough for him to guide his horse backwards.
"They are our enemies now Benossa. Not just the Prince's," Vashna called after the man.
Benossa bowed his head, "Of course my Lord."
The rider had crossed the plain and was now climbing the hill. His horse foamed at the mouth but did not slow down too much.
"There is no need to push the poor animal so hard," Vashna said through gritted teeth.
"I will see that he is disciplined," General Wray said.
"No, don't," Vashna sighed. The rider was only doing his job. Vashna was irritable. From the moment he had left Lilyon he had plotted how he would invade Kana's home and prove himself to the other Warlords. His men had been furious at the decision. The very thought of Vashna hanging for his offences had never occurred to them. Vashna on the other hand had been impressed by the way the Prince had handled the situation. He appreciated the position Althalos found himself in and Vashna doubted whether he could have come up with a more amenable solution. General Wray had agreed although he had not been happy with Breshanel being used as a hostage. He had offered to take her place but she had insisted they should adhere to the Prince's wishes. As angry as she had been during the trial she too recognised how close Vashna had come to losing his life. The Prince had allowed them to spend a final night together and for that Vashna was extremely grateful.
The rider finally reached them. He pulled on the reins and brought the horse to a stop. The animal whinnied loudly and reared on its hind legs. The man sat astride the horse, patted her flank and muttered soothing words. He was an experienced soldier called Scolt. His helmet looked like it might fall off at any moment. A mop of blond hair protruded from the sides of the helmet. Three fingers were missing from his left hand and he gripped the reins with the remaining two. He had lost his fingers at the Battle of the Basin and the stubs were still raw. Scolt caught Vashna staring at his hand and moved it between his legs to conceal the sight. Vashna winced at his insensitivity and waited for Scolt to speak. He appeared out of breath which was odd considering the horse had done all the running.
"The keep is deserted," Scolt said.
Vashna tried not to utter a sarcastic response. "What else?"
"Kana left a message for us."
Vashna shot General Wray a look; he should have known the rider would never have pushed the horse so far without good reason.
“What?” General Wray asked.
“An arrow pointing at a falcon,” Scolt said.
Vashna looked past the castle and to the horizon. The message was clear. The falcon was the emblem of Wildecliffe Shore: a purple falcon flying over cliffs as the sea raged below. Kana and the Shangonites had left to invade Prandor’s region. It was not surprising; Prandor was always going to have to be dealt with eventually.
Vashna had approached the warlord with his plans to rise against the King. Prandor had been furious at the notion and threatened to end Vashna’s life. It was only the intervention of Stasiak which had staid his hand. The painted warrior had anticipated the rejection and seized one of Prandor’s daughters, holding a knife to her throat until Vashna was allowed to leave. Prandor would have been a useful ally and it was too dangerous to allow him to join Jacquard and so Vashna had ordered his men to make sure Prandor did not leave his region. Over time, the Lakisdoreans had assumed this role, Lord Frindolin and Gambon both agreeing it was better to have them roaming Wildecliffe Shore rather than their own regions.
How things had changed. In a matter of months, Stasiak had become Atikass the second Prince of Frindoth and Vashna was now against the men he had ordered to keep Prandor hemmed in.
“There is something else,” Scolt said. Vashna could tell from the man’s tone it was not going to be good news. Scolt uttered the words reluctantly as if it was an effort to speak.
“Go on,” Vashna said. He shifted in his saddle and looked over to Kana’s home as if he could see the bad news before it was delivered.
“The arrow which pointed to the falcon was made up of bloody teeth.”
Vashna swayed in his seat. He gripped the reins to keep from falling.
“That doesn’t mean he is dead,” General Wray said.
“Of course it bloody does,” Vashna snapped. He had little hope for Moirin’s survival but this was Kana’s way of letting Vashna know he was dead. When they had arrived at Shangon, Moirin had been in agony with toothache, Vashna had asked Kana if he had someone who could remove the tooth. It was the last time he had seen his bodyguard before the assassination attempt.
“I meant he might still be alive. We have t
eeth but that does not mean we have a body.”
Vashna was not convinced. He refused to hold on to any hope now. Losing Moirin had been like losing a *brother. He refused to consider anything other than the fact that he was dead now.
“Benossa and Narch come here,” Vashna ordered. The two captains brought their horses up to their Warlords. Scolt took the opportunity to leave the small party. “It appears Kana has left us a message and has gone to invade Prandor, but as far as I am concerned our objectives have not changed. We were asked to kill Kana and that is what we still need to do.”
“Could be a trap,” Colck said.
“Colck’s right. At the very least it could be misleading. Kana could be joining up with the rest of Cordane’s army near Yurisdoria,” General Wray said.
It hurt to hear General Wray refer to the force Vashna had amassed as someone else’s army but it was the truth. Vashna considered the possibility; there was no doubt Cordane would cross the canyon at the Great Bridge. Hamsun had not arrived in Lilyon alone. He had arrived with everyone who remained in his army, whilst giving orders his people were to seek refuge in the eastern regions. The Great Bridge was undefended and was the logical channel to transport such a large army. When Vashna had fled from Shangon he had crossed the Great Bridge with little difficulty. The skeleton crew which Hamsun had posted on the bridge retreated as soon as they saw Vashna approach. To cross the Great Bridge so easily was unthinkable a half year ago, now it was like any other road. The old ways were changing and it was mainly down to him.
“I don’t think so,” Vashna said. “Kana will do whatever Cordane orders. He may have surprised us but he is still a whimpering whelp. Cordane will not want Prandor’s small army at his back when he advances and so he is eliminating them now. It is exactly what I would do.”
“So that means-” Colck began.
“Yes, Cordane is finally preparing to make his move. War is upon Frindoth.”
They took a moment to digest the significance of the latest development. The Battle of the Basin was meant to destroy the eastern alliance quickly. It was a chance to strike quickly and put an end to any resistance before it began. Since then, it had been recognised there would be another battle on a larger scale. The Lakisdoreans had joined the fray and the Prince would not be underestimated. If Vashna had not had a change of heart, victory would have been assured for his side. Now he had aligned with the side facing overwhelming odds.