The Banished Lands- The Complete Series

by Benjamin Mester

  “May I present Commander Rovak of Kester,” Estrien said.

  The commander scanned slowly about the faces.

  “I'm under orders to assume control of this region and secure it,” Rovak began. “We can no longer sit idly by while a growing hostile force threatens our kingdom. From this moment on, you're either for me or for the enemy.”

  “Finally decided to join the party?” the resistance leader asked.

  “I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement,” Gwaren said.

  “I've already explained the arrangement.”

  “Don't be a fool, Rovak,” Drogan said. “I know what kind of man you are. Only two things matter to you: getting results and protecting the lives of your men. You want a decisive victory here to impress your superiors back home. But you're an honorable man, so you won't do anything at the expense of the lives of your men. If you work against us, many more of your men will die and your victory here will be labored. We're already formulating a counteroffensive that will drive Corcoran from our shores. Join us.”

  Commander Rovak's eyes narrowed and Estrien smiled to herself.

  “Show me your plan,” he said at length.

  “Well the plan is somewhat altered with the arrival of your men,” Gwaren replied. “But the three strongholds of Corcoran are here, here and here.”

  “And you're sure this represents the whole of the enemy forces?”

  “We believe so, yes,” Gwaren replied.

  Then hovering close to the map, Gwaren relayed everything they had discussed thus far; of Pallin and the powers of the Windbearers, Corcoran's forces, and the chance to strike now. Though Rovak looked incredulous, he too couldn't argue that what they had before them seemed like a genuine opportunity.

  “We have the chance to aid Pallin and strike a fatal blow to the plans of Corcoran,” Estrien concluded. “Let's just hope we're not too late.”

  The End of the Journey

  Pallin was nudged awake by the man who had previously been his captor. Already the glow of dawn was filling up the entrance to the cave where he slept. The coals were still glowing beside him, and roasting over them was a rabbit.

  “Eat,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Pallin replied and took the stick into his hands.

  He had never in all his days been so famished. The man chuckled.

  “I still don't know why Sheabor would send an old man on an apparently vital mission.”

  “I'm not just an old man,” Pallin replied, mouth full of steaming meat. “Tell me, do I remind you of anyone?”

  “Yes, unfortunately. You remind me of the Windbearer, Malfur.”

  Pallin slowed his chewing and looked up at the man, though struck again with a pang of sorrow at the mention of Malfur's name.

  “He clearly means something to you,” the man said. “Though why, I can only imagine.”

  “He was my brother.”

  “Brother?” the man laughed. “Malfur was a Keeper of the Wind!”

  “Yes,” Pallin replied.

  The man's eyes went wide at the implication. But then he smirked, highly incredulous at Pallin's claim.

  “Laugh if you wish. Once we reach the tomb of King Euthor, your laughing will cease.”

  “What's buried there?”

  “An orb of Shade Stone containing the powers of Aravas, Faigean and I.”

  The man didn't seem to follow him.

  “I'll explain along the way.”

  Intrigued, the man extended his hand and the two set off. But as they removed from the cave into the early morning stillness, Pallin took a deep breath, reinvigorated from sleep, food and water. The morning mist still clung beneath the trees, and Pallin was struck by the loveliness of the forest that he hadn't until now been able to appreciate. Then the two set off beneath the trees.

  “And I?” the man said suddenly from out of nowhere as they traveled.

  “You?” Pallin asked.

  “Do I remind you of anyone?”

  Pallin turned to him, scrutinizing his features. He was about to say no when something caught his attention.

  “Well, yes actually,” Pallin said. “You remind me of Sheabor's traveling companion, Straiah.”

  “He's my younger brother. My name is Seriah.”

  Pallin was greatly surprised and gladdened at the news. If this man, Seriah, was even half the woodsman Straiah was, he would be an immense help along their journey.

  “Describe to me what we're looking for,” Seriah said.

  “It's a mountain, tall and mostly symmetrical.”

  “Is it part of a range?”

  “No. But it'll be close by. King Euthor wouldn't have wanted us to travel hundreds of leagues to find it.”

  Seriah thought for long moments.

  “It doesn't matter,” Pallin said. “That stone of mine – the one you still carry – it will guide us.”

  “How does it work?”

  “I don't honestly know,” Pallin said.

  “Here,” Seriah said, handing the stone back to Pallin.

  They traveled for some distance, due north through the woods. Before long, the woods gave way to an open meadow, broad and long.

  “Is it safe to travel by day like this?” Pallin asked.

  “Reasonably. I'll spot the patrols before they spot us. They've spread all over looking for the tomb. It seems like Corcoran has halted his advance into the Eastern Realm to find this place before us.”

  The pair set off through the meadow at a quick pace. Pallin was glad for the warm sun on his face – something he hadn't felt for weeks it seemed.

  “How is my brother faring on your continent?” Seriah asked.

  “Straiah?”

  Pallin thought back until recollection brought a smile to his face.

  “The last time I saw your brother, he asked Sheabor to give him his hammer, risking the fate of the whole world to go and rescue a woman.”

  Seriah smiled and shook his head.

  “Typical,” he replied. “Hopeless romantic. Someone should've slapped some sense into him.”

  “Well, she is quite a woman.”

  “Then he doesn't stand a chance with her.”

  Pallin laughed, realizing how glad he was for another traveling companion. Though he had spent centuries wandering the world alone, he had grown quite fond of the time he spent with Durian of Suriya. But thinking about it turned his mood dark and he spoke little more. Seriah seemed to sense a change in his mood, for he disappeared off ahead to scout out the places they would travel.

  The stone in Pallin's hand seemed to ever brighten, though Pallin couldn't tell if it really was glowing stronger, or if his mind merely made him believe it was so.

  Pallin passed beyond the meadow and into the woodlands again. But the woods were sparse now, not old and broad like the woods before. By noontime, the landscape turned hilly, with fields largely replacing the woodlands.

  Pallin spotted a tall hill and made for it, ascending slowly, his legs and lungs burning from exertion. But as he crested it, gazing over the region northward, he saw a distant peak pointing through the horizon.

  Footsteps from behind alerted him and he turned to find Seriah with two rabbits in his hand. Pallin chuckled, recalling how Straiah would often disappear when they traveled through Thob Forest, returning with fish or rabbits to feed the group.

  “That peak there,” Pallin pointed. “I believe that is our destination.”

  “Should be two, possibly three days. Come, let's have something to eat.”

  They descended and cooked the rabbits in a small valley between hills. But as they ate, they began to hear something. It was a low rumble from the northwest. Seriah arose, stomping out the fire and burying it, then motioning for Pallin to follow him.

  Following the base of the hills, they ran swiftly for many minutes until the hillside opened up into a broad valley. Seriah made for an outcropping of boulders where the two hid and waited. The rumbling intensifying, they spent long minutes w
aiting for something to appear.

  Then they saw it. Entering the valley a few hundred paces ahead was a procession of Dungeon Core soldiers. But soon after, larger, more muscular forms came pulling what appeared to be pieces of wooden siege weapons. Pallin gasped at the sight of creatures like that working for Corcoran, for they reminded him of Arathama, whom they had encountered in Thob Forest.

  “They've been at it for months now, sending portions of siege works across the divide. If they're assembled on the other side, there will be no stopping Corcoran.”

  “I thought you said they'd ceased sending troops across the divide.”

  “Their remaining infantry has ceased, but the larger forces continue to cross.”

  His declaration was ominous, as was his statement that for months they'd brought similar processions through to the coast to board ships bound for the Eastern Realm. Pallin could only hope Sheabor and the others had the situation in hand. The pair watched in silence for the better part of the day as the forces of Corcoran made their way to the coast. As sunset approached, the last of them disappeared from view.

  “No sense setting off now,” Seriah declared. “We'll pick up the trail in the morning before dawn.”

  Though Pallin knew the urgency of their quest, he was still very weary and glad for the time of rest. Seriah disappeared to hunt for game and berries, but Pallin fell fast asleep.

  The sky still dark, he was nudged awake by Seriah who handed him a plate of food – some kind of pheasant dish with crushed berry sauce, even seasoned with a minty herb. It was delicious.

  “How did you manage this?” Pallin asked.

  “You slept a long time.”

  “Straiah never made anything like this.”

  Seriah laughed loudly. Pallin devoured his meal, each morning renewing more and more of his strength. As he arose, the first faint hints of light were just entering the far horizon. The pair set off at a swift pace.

  “You said you'd explain things,” Seriah said after dawn had broken.

  “Yes,” Pallin replied.

  Then, from the beginning, he relayed the history of what really happened after the Great War, how the three Windbearers, thinking their brother Malfur was dead, locked their powers away inside an orb of Shade Stone with the help of King Euthor.

  “Why would King Euthor risk burying such an important artifact on this continent?” Seriah asked.

  “It's well hidden.”

  “Even so. You said that Sheabor's hammer is the only thing that can break the orb. Since the hammer has spent the last twelve hundred years on this continent, why not bury the orb somewhere on the Eastern Realm, in the tomb of Sheyla perhaps? Wouldn't it have been much safer there?”

  Pallin considered the notion for long moments. He wasn't sure exactly what motivated the reasoning of King Euthor but if he had hidden the orb in the tomb of Sheyla, they would have already found it. It was strange, since the armor they found in her tomb was locked away in a vault of Shade Stone. No one could have broken into it.

  “I honestly don't know,” was all Pallin said at length.

  Then they traveled in silence for the better part of the day, Pallin considering the questions of Seriah. If King Euthor really had seen the future, why wouldn't he have hidden the orb inside the tomb of Sheyla? It made so much more sense. Her crypt appeared to have remained undisturbed for the whole of the age. Maybe they would find the answers when they reached his tomb.

  Seriah disappeared again for some time, returning late morning with thin slices of cooked meats stretched out atop a leather animal skin on his back, drying them out in the sunlight. By afternoon, the mountain was already beginning to loom in the places before them. They had lost half a day waiting for the forces of Corcoran to pass by, but they might still make it to their destination by the end of tomorrow.

  Pushing until weariness took hold of Pallin, they stopped just after nightfall in a stony copse of trees. Seriah again made a meal, this one of mostly berries and wild edible vegetation. But it was enough.

  “So once we find the orb with your powers, we'll still need to get it across the divide to Sheabor?” Seriah asked.

  “Yes. We'll rely on the resistance for that.”

  Seriah took a deep breath and sighed.

  “Almost all of the resistance is already on the Eastern Realm. And those that aren't are scattered about. Corcoran spread himself thin trying to set up bases on your continent and haul his siege works to the shore. We were able to overtake the fortress of Malfur some months ago and set free our prisoners there, including Sheabor's wife, the princess, Cora.”

  Pallin was surprised at the declaration.

  “I did not know he was married.”

  “Yes. More than a month ago, we made ready for the bulk of our forces to cross. As a diversion, I led a group to attack one of the supply lines of Corcoran to draw his patrols away from the coast. We lost many men, but it allowed for a dozen ships to set sail across the divide. Now, those of us who remained behind are tasked with sabotaging Corcoran's progress however we're able. The only way now to cross is to steal a ship.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “It could be. But if we failed, we'd deliver the orb right into the hands of Corcoran.”

  Pallin considered the notion long. Until now, his main focus had been finding the orb. He hadn't given much thought to what they'd do after that.

  “Let's sleep on it,” Pallin decided.

  And moments later, he did just that. He was nudged awake again to the sight of stars.

  “If we leave now, I think we can make it before the end of the day.”

  Pallin arose and Seriah handed him some of the meats he'd been drying out the day before. It was surprisingly tough and chewy and also very salty. As they drew ever closer to the mountain, Pallin began to grow troubled. Besides the one procession of soldiers, they hadn't come across any patrols of Corcoran. Perhaps King Euthor had devised a way to keep them away from his real burial place.

  Pallin saw little of Seriah as he was undoubtedly keeping watch on the places they were soon to travel. He came once to bring Pallin some food, but no words passed between them. Midday came and went and the mountain ever rose up before him. Soon, Pallin entered a small woodland near the base of the mountain, feeding off the rainwater and snow melt on the mountain's northern side.

  It was cool beneath the trees, chilling him from the sweat he had accumulated in the heat of the sun, hastening him all the more. Pallin's heart beat with exhilaration, so close to the end of his quest. As the sun began to bend toward the east, Seriah once more joined him.

  “I think I've found it,” he said. “There's a spot on the mountain face where the pattern of the stone is slightly different. It seems artificial.”

  They made for it at a quick pace, finding the base of the mountain and following it northward. Still no sign of Corcoran's forces. But something in the back of Pallin's mind grew wary.

  “Did you see anything suspicious on your patrols?”

  “Nothing,” Seriah said. “And no tracks anywhere to suggest they got here before us. If you're suspecting a trap, I think we're in the clear.”

  They arrived in short order to a smooth part of the rocky wall, the stone swirled a bit, in the same fashion as the pattern on all the Shade Stone Pallin had seen. Taking the blue jewel from his pocket, it was now glowing a bright and vibrant green. They were here!

  “Quick, give me the weapon,” Seriah said.

  Handing him the mace, Seriah went to work, striking the wall with heavy blows and breaking whole chunks of it. Though his work was loud, they seemed to be alone.

  The stone was breaking apart with remarkable ease. King Euthor must have designed it frail to let them enter quickly. But as he watched, Pallin felt the sensation of heat on his back, and a strange glow seemed to illumine the wall ahead of them.

  Turning, he saw something dreadful – a form of molten stone and rock rising right out of the earth. Startled, he nearly jumped into Se
riah, who stopped and gasped at the sight.

  “Did you honestly think you would find this place before me?” the grinding and gravelly voice bellowed from the molten, stony form. “I've been waiting for your arrival.”

  Pallin stood speechless, mouth gaping.

  “What a fool Euthor was to hide himself here, within my reach. You will pay for his arrogance.”

  Pallin heard the words but still couldn't believe it. How could this be? How could King Euthor not have seen that Corcoran would find his tomb before them? As his mind raced for anything to make sense, Seriah stepped in front of him, mace stationed against the menacing form of Corcoran.

  “Run!”

  The Tomb of Sheyla

  Baron and Ariadra rode side by side through the open plains of Forthura. As demanded, they had departed from Suriya with an armed escort bound for the alliance. It would be many days through the lands of Forthura, and a brief trek into the barbarian kingdom to reach the tomb of Sheyla.

  Their escort had the decency of giving the couple a wide berth. But they set a quick pace, much to Baron's displeasure. The sky was a hazy gray, giving a vividness to swaying green grasses. All the things they passed along the way called to him. The distant columns of smoke rising from scattered cottages, or oddly shaped boulders lying solitary in the plains – Baron wanted to explore them all with Ariadra, steal away and bask in the joy of love.

  Baron had never much cared for wandering or daydreaming. But now, with Ariadra by his side, everything seemed magical – a beautiful memory waiting to be made. It reminded him of the island poem of King Euthor, how the two lovers stole away to a secret retreat, far away from all duty and responsibility.

  Thinking of King Euthor and Sheyla, her form encased in crystal, Baron noticed something he hadn't before.

  “You look like her, you know,” Baron said, breaking the long silence. “Sheyla, I mean. I didn't realize it till now.”

  “Really?” Ariadra replied.

  “It's not surprising,” he said with a slow smile. “She was known for her beauty.”