Farindian Summer (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 4)

by Loren K. Jones

  “She sounded as nervous a virgin in a whorehouse,” Shari commented, drawing a snort of amusement from Marina.

  “She’s nineteen, Shari. Suddenly she’s gone from being the wild-child Truth Seer for minor city magistrates to King’s Truth Seer. We just told her that she’s going to be Seeing for the king in a capital case in six spans, deciding the fate of some of the most powerful Chosen lords in the kingdom. If she wasn’t a nervous wreck, I’d be worried.”

  *

  Court was assembled, and the nobles were all in an uproar as the Ministers of the King’s Council were brought before them. The identity of the new King’s Truth Seer hadn’t been announced, only that one had been appointed, and speculation about who had been chosen was the source of most of the commotion.

  The king entered the Court room with Marina and Sharindis behind him, and the Court fell silent. It was the first time Shari had been on the dais, and this unusual event heralded more unusual events to come.

  “My noble lords and ladies, we come together to assess the guilt or innocence of the Lord Ministers in the plot that threatened the lives of my grandchildren and Princess Sharindis. The King’s Truth Seer was also killed in this incident, and a new Truth Seer has been appointed.” The king looked to the side and Firenza, dressed in full high-court fashion, stepped out. The sound of a hurricane-force gasp rolled through the room as the young woman was recognized.

  The king continued in a severe tone as his eyes swept the room. “I see that Lady Zel’Haltal is known to some of you. She is now the King’s Truth Seer, bound to the crown by Adept Fel’Banan, and a full member of the King’s Council. You will all accord her the proper respect due her position. Let us begin.”

  The king shifted his attention to the lord ministers. “Fortan, let’s get you out of the way first.” Fortan Zel’Bordal stepped forward and bowed. “Fortan, did you have anything to do with the attack against the children, the murder of Aldus, or this silly-assed list of demands?”

  “No, Your Majesty, I did not.”

  Firenza immediately said, “He speaks the truth.”

  “Good.” The king sighed. “Fortan you are absolved of all charges. Zelkav, you’re next.”

  Lord General Zel’Rantal stepped forward and bowed. “Your Majesty, I had nothing to do with this or any other plot against you.”

  Again Firenza said, “He speaks the truth.”

  The king nodded. “Evindal, you next,” he said, and was surprised by the reaction of his Minister of Trade.

  “Yes,” Evindal Zel’Corvis snarled. “You’re letting that girl disrupt our kingdom for the sake of her barbarian lands to the north. It cannot be allowed to continue, Kalin.”

  Firenza was wide-eyed in shock as she said, “He speaks the truth.”

  The king felt just as shocked. “Evindal, how could you do that? You’ve been a favored minister for years. I’ve let you and your friends in the Traders’ Guild run trade as you wanted. Now you attack babies to force my hand against you?”

  Evindal Zel’Corvis just glared for a moment, then spoke in an angry tone as he said, “There is nothing in those lands for us. Trade is all but nonexistent in lower Farindia. Only upper Farindia was worth anything, and you let Andaria just take it.”

  The king was growing furious as he listened. “Name your accomplices.”

  “Figure it out yourself,” the former minister spit.

  “Remove that traitor,” the king commanded.

  Georan Zel’Jessel stepped forward and bowed. “King Kalin, I swear I had nothing to do with this or any other plot against you.”

  Carvan Zel’Ordan was right beside him. “I also swear that I am innocent.”

  Firenza nodded. “They both speak the truth.”

  The rest of the ministers hurried forward to profess their innocence until only two men were left: Minister of Finance Zel’Cordas and Minister of Health Zel’Walvan. They stepped forward as one and Lord Zel’Cordas said, “Your Majesty, we were with Garrat and Evindal in the attempt to take control of the kingdom. Neither of us knew that Garrat was going to threaten the babies, but we were there when the list of demands was written. Your actions in the Farindian crisis are bankrupting the kingdom, and we felt you had to be stopped.”

  “Your insistence on letting that girl disrupt the council was another reason for taking these actions, Kalin,” Lord Zel’Walvan said as he glared at Shari. “We decide how our ministries are run, not some slip of a barbarian from Farindia.”

  The king said, “You are both condemned by your own words. Take them away.” The king remained silent as two more of his ministers were led away. He said, “Court is dismissed,” and turned away with Marina and Shari at his side.

  The door closed behind them and Kalin leaned his back against the wall as he scrubbed his face with his hands. “I can’t believe Evindal was part of this. I trusted him implicitly.”

  Marina hugged her father as she said, “He was favored, but he wanted more. He wanted full control, not just an advisory role. Some people can never have enough power to be satisfied. Shari, are you all right?”

  Shari’s voice was soft, but there was an edge of fury in it as she said, “Yes, I’m fine. I just can’t believe they would have murdered babies for power. What a bunch of honorless slugs.”

  “Dead slugs soon, Shari,” Kalin said as he put a hand on her shoulder.

  Chapter 38

  THE PACIFICATION FORCE MARCHED WEST FOR six days before they encountered anyone. And those people proved to be refugees fleeing the border region. Captain Zel’Kordil’s scouts brought in the first of them.

  “Sir, we have a prisoner,” the sergeant in charge said as he came to a stop beside his commander.

  Captain Zel’Kordil frowned and replied, “You aren’t supposed to be taking prisoners, Sergeant.”

  The sergeant gave his captain a helpless shrug, then came back to attention. “He wanted to be taken prisoner, sir. He thinks he’ll be protected that way.”

  “From what?”

  The prisoner was taken to the command tent, and Colonel Zel’Fordal got the answer. “There’s a war on, lords,” the man said from where he was kneeling. “The Andarians done started a war with Farindia.”

  There were looks shared all around, and Stavin was allowed to step forward. As soon as he saw the golden armor, the prisoner bowed and put his head to the ground. “Dragon Blessed, I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I am Prince Stavin of Evandia,” Stavin said as he stepped closer to the man. “Evandia has annexed this portion of Farindia, and Andaria has annexed the portion north of the Kahrant River. Farindia is no more.”

  The man looked up with a desolate expression. He whispered, “Then we have no hope.”

  “Actually,” Stavin said with a slight smile, “it was to bring hope back to these lands that made us take these actions. Where are you from?”

  “From Hastan Ford, Prince Stavin, west of Kahrant’s Pass. We fled there, but the Andarians followed us.”

  “The border is the river,” Colonel Zel’Fordal said. “The Andarians should have stayed north of it.”

  “They didn’t, lord.”

  Stavin looked at Gavlin and closed his eyes for a moment before looking Gavlin straight in the eye. “I guess it’s a good thing you brought a full army with you, Colonel. I leave the decisions on how we proceed from here to you.” Then he looked down and shook his head. Damn it!

  “Thank you, Prince Stavin.” Gavlin looked around the tent. “Infantry to the front. Cavalry, left and right flanks, evenly split. Royal Guards,” he looked Dahvin in the eye, “to the rear.”

  Dahvin bowed and touched Stavin’s shoulder. “This way, Your Highness.”

  Stavin let Dahvin lead him to the rear of the column as the soldiers marched forward. “I was hoping that we’d get through this without any major battles,” Stavin said as he mounted his horse.

  “I was as well,” Dahvin agreed.

  Barvil and Karvik joined them and nodded th
eir agreement. Karvik said, “I just hope you don’t have to become involved, Stave. I really hope we can make it through the rest of the summer without you touching that sword again.”

  Stavin nodded his agreement; he didn’t trust his voice. Or his feelings. There was a part of him that was raging to ride forward and destroy the Andarians. A part that wanted to feel their lives slide away as his sword slid through their bodies.

  But the rational part of his mind was still in control. For now.

  It took two days for the Pacification Force to make contact with the Andarian Army. During that time the Evandian soldiers grew silent and grim as a steady stream of refugees fled past. Finally, at a meadow south-east of the city of Kahrant’s Pass, the armies met.

  A man rode forward under a flag of peace and stopped. Gavlin went forward himself to speak to him. “What are you doing here?” he demanded as soon as Gavlin was in range.

  “I was about to ask you the same question,” Gavlin replied. “Andaria was supposed to take the lands north of the Kahrant River. That’s back that way.”

  “That’s not how our general sees it, Colonel,” the man replied in a sarcastic tone.

  Gavlin looked the man in the eye and said, “Then perhaps your general should discuss it with Prince Stavin Dragon Blessed.”

  The man’s complexion paled a little. “He’s here?”

  Gavlin let a small smile cross his lips. “Prince Stavin is in command of this force.”

  The messenger backed his horse a few steps. “I shall inform my general.”

  “You do that,” Colonel Zel’Fordal replied, “and tell him he’s invited to join us for the evening meal.”

  The messenger swallowed, bobbing his head in respect before turning his horse around and spurring for his lines.

  Gavlin rode back and sent for Stavin. “Yes, Gav?”

  “I invited their general over for the evening meal, Prince Stavin. You should be here.” He smiled slightly. “Apparently, they decided to amend the treaty without informing us.”

  “Oh really?” Stavin asked, then smiled wickedly. “We’ll just have to see about that.”

  Lord General Naldan Zel’Jellan, in full dress kit, and ten of his subordinates arrived at the Evandian camp several spans before sundown. They were met by Colonel Zel’Fordal. “General, welcome to the Farindian Pacification Force. Prince Stavin is waiting for you.”

  The general dismounted, as did his officers. Two men gathered the reins, then the rest followed their general forward. “I look forward to meeting Prince Stavin,” he said as he faced Gavlin.

  “And he is anxious to meet you, general,” Gavlin replied with a bow. He led the way to the royal tent, which Stavin had ordered erected just for the meeting.

  Stavin did not stand when the general entered, which drew a scowl of disapproval from the general and his men, but Stavin wasn’t going to show them any deference.

  “What are you doing in Evandian territory, General?” Stavin asked, finally looking up.

  “Whose territory this is,” the general said with a hint of a smile, “has yet to be decided.”

  “No, general,” Stavin said as he turned the document in front of him around for the general to see, “it hasn’t. This is a copy of the Treaty of Annexation. The border is the Kahrant River. This was agreed to by King Jallat and King Kalin. I expect you and your men to be off Evandian lands by sundown tomorrow.”

  “No, Prince Stavin, if that is who you really are. I claim these lands for Andaria by right of conquest. I don’t care what some piece of parchment says.”

  Stavin looked up at the general and grasped the hilt of the Sword of Zel’Hallan as he stood. The table flew away as light blazed around Stavin. “You will withdraw, or die,” Stavin growled, and the growl that underscored his words sent a chill of fear down the spines of every man present, friend and foe alike.

  The general and his men stumbled back away from Stavin, then broke and ran for their horses. They had a lot of running to do, because their horses had broken free of their handlers and headed back to their lines when Stavin growled.

  “All right, Stavin, that’s enough,” Barvil said and Stavin rounded on him. Barvil saw his death in his prince’s eyes and stumbled back a pace, then Stavin forced himself to let go of the sword with a visible effort.

  “Sorry, Barvil,” Stavin said as he fought to regain control of his emotions.

  “You really need to never do that again, Stave,” Karvik said as he stepped forward.

  “I didn’t intend to do it this time, Kar. It was like my hand wasn’t my own.”

  “Stave, give me the sword,” Karvik commanded, and Stavin’s expression changed. He’d been frightened, but now he was all too obviously angry.

  “By what right do you command me?” he demanded.

  “By right of friendship, under the Code of the Warrior. You know what the sword is doing to you. I won’t let it turn you into a two-legged dragon.”

  Stavin glared at his best friend and fought down the urge to kill him. No! That’s not who I am! He clasped his arms around his chest as he closed his eyes and whispered, “Take it. Take it while you can,” as he turned his head away.

  Karvik grabbed the sword and tore it free from Stavin’s baldric. Barvil grabbed Stavin in a hug to keep him from trying to take the sword back, and held him tightly as he struggled for a moment. Then Stavin relaxed and Barvil eased his hug.

  Stavin was trembling as he whispered, “Get that thing away from me,” and he turned his head so he was facing Barvil’s breast plate. He didn’t want to see Karvik with the sword. He heard Karvik leave the tent, and finally broke down, shivering in terror. For one horrid moment, he could have killed Karvik.

  “I’m not letting Kar give the sword back this time, Stavin,” Barvil murmured in a voice so soft that Stavin barely heard him. “It’s too dangerous for you.”

  “Unless he has to,” Stavin whispered back.

  “Stavin, are you all right?” Gavlin asked.

  “Yes. No. I think I will be, but that sword has to be away from me. I realize that now. Colonel, advance on the Andarians in the morning if they haven’t retreated. I’d prefer to avoid a confrontation, but I want them out Evandian territory.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Gavlin replied with a bow.

  The morning sun showed the Andarian army right where they had been. “What are they waiting for?” Stavin asked.

  Gavlin answered. “You.”

  Stavin shook his head. “I can’t, Gav. I can’t let the sword take me.”

  “Then don’t,” Gavlin replied. “Just step out in front of our men so the Andarians can see you. Let them know that you are really here. It’s just a guess, but I’ll bet the common soldiers are going to break at the mere sight of you, even without the sword.”

  Stavin shook his head, but he walked forward slowly. He waited until he was sure he’d been seen, then shouted, “Soldiers of Andaria, must you all die?” There was a disturbance among the soldiers, and the sound of many men talking at once. Stavin shouted again, “Must I slaughter you like I did your friends at the Zel’Horgan?” Now men were milling about, and bugle calls rang up and down the force.

  “There are only about two thousand of them,” Barvil said from behind his shoulder, and Stavin nodded.

  “You are outnumbered three to one,” Stavin shouted again. “Even without the Sword of Zel’Hallan, we can slaughter you. Must you all die because your general has decided to violate our treaty?”

  Now there was real movement among the Andarian soldiers. Shouted commands and threats could be clearly heard. The clash of swords came briefly from the left, then subsided as men moved into that area.

  Someone shouted back, “If you want this land, then take it!”

  Stavin turned his head slightly and said, “Kar, give me the sword.”

  “No! Stave, it’s too risky.”

  Stavin shook his head. “They have to be thrown back.”

  “And they will be, but no
t at the cost of your life,” Colonel Zel’Fordal said as he turned and shouted, “Forward the archers!” Buglers sounded the call, their tones reaching the farthest extent of the army.

  Nearly a thousand men jogged forward with long, recurved bows in their hands. At the order of their officers, they stopped and drew, loosing a flight of arrows that sailed into the Andarian lines. The return flight from the Andarians fell short, and told the Evandian archers where to stop. Men shot arrow after arrow into the massed Andarian army until their quivers were empty. Almost nine thousand arrows had reduced the Andarian ranks by nearly half. The moans and cries of the wounded seeped across the field as their blood seeped into the soil.

  “Forward the Ninth!” a voice bellowed, echoed by the buglers, and the Ninth Infantry Brigade charged forward at the run. Arrows from the Andarians fell among them, but few found their mark. The Andarian archers had moved to the front to return volleys, but that made them the closest targets for the Evandian archers.

  “Forward the Third!” a second voice ordered, then the remaining infantry joined the fight, running forward to reinforce the Ninth. Then a new sound joined them.

  “Domain Farindia!” fifty voices shouted as one, and the Farindian Royal Guard rode forward and swept into the Andarian right flank.

  Colonel Zel’Fordal shouted, “Bugler, call the Fifth!” and a bugle call rang out. A disturbance on the Andarian left flank turned into a rout as the Fifth Cavalry rode into the Andarian lines.

  The fight raged for span after span until the Andarians started surrendering. Just a few men at first, then more and more gave up. Men threw down their weapons and fell to their knees with their hands on their heads. It took a few moments for Stavin to realize what was happening.

  “There are no bugle calls,” he said out loud.

  “Their buglers, and probably their officers, are dead, Prince Stavin,” Colonel Zel’Fordal said in answer.

  “Call our men back. I don’t want a slaughter.”

  Gavlin shook his head. “It’s too late, Prince Stavin. Their general saw to that. Don’t worry, our men won’t kill the ones who surrender. They are too well disciplined for that.”