War for the Sundered Crown (The Sundered Crown Saga Book 2)

by Olney, Matthew

  As the day wore on, they left the Lakelands behind them and the road began to dip. The soft rolling hills and pine forests gave way to large open fields which were filled to the brim with crops almost ready to be harvested. Wheat and corn were the most common, but spread between them were orchards filled with apple trees. In the western sky the sun began to dip lower on the horizon, and long shadows began to stretch out. Ferran raised a hand to signal them to stop. Luxon trotted his horse to the front of the group to see what prompted the halt. He gasped at what he saw. The setting sun lit up the sky and made it look as though it were on fire. In the far distance was the outline of a city, its tall towers standing strong and its banners flapping proudly in the soft breeze.

  “Behold. The city of Bison,” Ferran said softly.

  The city was built on a raised patch of ground which allowed it to dominate the Bison plains that stretched for hundreds of miles in all directions. Luxon narrowed his eyes and smiled as he spotted a huge plume of dust. Hundreds of black dots were moving quickly on the plain. As his eyes adjusted, the dots turned into horses.

  “We are lucky,” Ferran said with a smile. “It’s very rare to see one of the famous Bison herds this close to the border, and at this time of year. Normally they stick to the northern plains which border the Blackmoor.” The Nightblade raised a hand to shield his eyes and pointed at a small settlement which lay to the west of the city.

  “We will camp there, at the sigil stone of Akadems. It will be the last civilised place we will see until we reach the Watchers.”

  “How long until we reach the Watchers?” Kaiden asked. Unlike the others he had no smile on his face; instead, he wore a look of determination.

  Ferran’s smile faded. The cause for their journey was not a pleasant one, and grave danger surely awaited them.

  “Three days if we’re lucky and the weather stays calm. We shouldn’t have to worry about Fell Beasts on the plain, though, as the Baron of Bison’s cavalry patrol the roads.”

  “Good,” Kaiden said softly, before spurring his horse onward towards Akadems.

  * * *

  The small town of Akadems was a relic from the ancient days. Crumbling stone buildings dating back from the days of the Nivion Empire stood alongside wooden structures built by the settlement’s current inhabitants. The town’s largest building belonged to the mayor who, upon Luxon and the others’ arrival, had scurried out to greet them. The place was a mish mash of architecture, as one half was comprised of the swirling stone pattern of some much older building, and the other was built from wood and rock.

  The mayor himself was a chubby man who obviously loved his drink. His bald head was offset by a thick black beard and small eyes which shined with intelligence. For such a big man, he was surprisingly energetic as he ordered a small band of villagers to bring out food and drink to their honoured guests. Luxon learned that the man’s name was Hori, a relative of the current Baron of Bison.

  “Any news from the watchers?” Luxon asked after their horses had been taken away to be fed and watered. Hori had then invited them into his house, and now they sat at a long oak table which was covered in plates full of food.

  It seemed as though half of the town was at the feast, and the noise of chatter and a bard’s lute filled the stuffy warm air.

  The mayor was greedily stiffing his face with cheese, and ale dripped from his beard.

  “Nay, not heard much from the garrison there in a good while,” Hori replied through mouthfuls of food. “S’pose that must be a good thing, rather no news than ill news.”

  Hannah was sat next to Luxon, and she squeezed his hand gently; next to her was Yepert, who was a smaller mirror image of the mayor. He was never happier when filling his mouth with grub. At the other end of the table were Kaiden, Ferran and Sophia. They were huddled close and in deep conversation.

  “What do you suppose they’re gassing about?” Hori asked, reaching for another piece of mutton. “Anyway, what brings a group such as yourselves to this little backwater town of mine?”

  Luxon glanced at Hannah who gave him a look of warning. Upon their arrival, Ferran had introduced themselves as a band of merchants hoping to set up a trade route to the Watchers; he had been careful not to give away their true identities. As a result, Luxon had made sure to conceal his staff by hiding it in his horse’s saddle bags …

  “I hope you’re not here to cause mischief like that woman did. Ended up having to chase her out of town we did. Flipping magic wielder,” Hori moaned.

  Luxon’s eyes widened. Hannah shook her head in warning but he couldn’t help himself, he had to ask.

  “Er, this woman, what did she look like?” he asked nonchalantly. “Just in case we run into her on the road …”

  Hori picked up a tankard of ale and downed it in one. Hannah had a look of disgust on her face. The mayor slammed the tankard back down onto the table and let out a loud burp, which was promptly followed by a fart.

  “She was a witch! Her hair was as black as her wretched soul and her eyes were an icy blue, cold enough to freeze an honest man’s heart. She came to town with men in hot pursuit, she sought shelter, I told her to keep travelling, no wielders are welcome in my town I said!”

  Luxon felt himself getting angry; only the calming touch of Hannah stopped him from leaning over and punching the man’s fat, pig-like face. Ferran was glaring at him from the other end of the table and shook his head slowly in warning.

  Luxon closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself.

  “These men who were chasing her … who were they?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  Hori filled his tankard up again before pausing in thought. After a while he snapped his fingers as he remembered.

  “They said they were witch hunters. Sent by the Baron of Champia to rid the world of magic’s evil. They said that they had been chasing her for many miles. If they caught her or not, I do not know. I hope they did.”

  Luxon clenched his fists under the table. The Baron of Champia knew of his mother, but how? Was it he who had sent those so-called witch hunters after them on the King’s Road? He stood from the table and stormed out of the hall. Ferran gestured for Hannah and Yepert to stay put as he, too, stood and followed his friend outside.

  “What’s angered your friend so?” Hori called out through a mouthful of mutton.

  “Apologies, Mayor,” Ferran replied. “My young companion does not handle his drink too well. Go back to enjoying your meal.”

  * * *

  Ferran found Luxon sat outside the hall with his back pressed against the structure’s wooden wall, his head in his hands. The sun had set a few hours earlier and only the sounds of the revelry inside the hall carried on the cold air. The twin moons were shining brightly and casting their lunar light over the vast empty plains that stretched off into the distance.

  “Feels like the first frost of the year may fall tonight,” Ferran said as he sat down next to Luxon. He picked a blade of grass and twirled it between his fingers.

  “That bastard Ricard …” Luxon muttered quietly. “He is up to something. He sent those witch hunters after us on the road; he sent them after my mother. How can we travel so far into the wilderness when that snake sits so close to the king?”

  Ferran nodded, understanding his young friend’s frustration.

  “Ricard is a very powerful man, Luxon. I share your doubts about him. During the civil war he fought to take the crown for himself – not once did he believe that his nephew lived. Even when rumours to the contrary were spread, he did nothing to find him. With no evidence, however, we cannot take our concerns to the king. We must stick to the mission at hand and trust that Davik will protect his majesty. Whatever is happening in Stormglade, it links everything, I am sure of it.”

  Luxon sighed heavily before standing up.

  “If that idiot mayor insults magic users again, I am going to set his beard on fire, I swear,” he grumbled.

  Ferran laughed.

&nb
sp; * * *

  The rest of the night passed without incident, and Luxon even ended up enjoying himself. He and Hannah had danced along with the mostly drunk villagers, and for a time the troubles of the world fell away. As the feast had wound down, the two of them snuck off to the stables where they made love in the hay. It was there that Ferran found them. Luxon’s thick robe lay across them, protecting their modesty.

  “C’mon you two, times a wasting.” The Nightblade held a bucket of water in his hand which he placed nearby. “Here, wash yourselves with this and meet us in the town square when you’re ready.”

  Luxon moaned, his head aching from the amount of ale he had consumed. Hannah leant over him and kissed him softly on the lips.

  “Here, let me fix that hangover,” she said playfully. She placed her palm on his forehead and closed her eyes. She muttered a spell and Luxon gasped. Warmth flooded his head, and the pain immediately subsided. He blinked and shook his head. Even the taste of stale ale had left his mouth.

  “You could make a fortune charging drunks for such a service,” he joked. He pulled on his trousers before walking over to the bucket and dunking his head into the cold water.

  Hannah likewise pulled on her travel tunic and robe before scooping up a handful of water and washing her face. She then reached into a pouch on her waste and pulled out two small leaves.

  “Here chew this,” she said, handing Luxon one of the small strong-smelling green leaves. “It is Robintan mint; it will make your mouth feel nice and your breath fresh, and they’re also very good for your teeth.”

  Luxon popped the leaf in his mouth and chewed as instructed. Instantly, his mouth was flooded with freshness. They quickly gathered up the rest of their affects and hurried outside. Upon seeing the couple, Yepert let out a wolf whistle. Hannah flushed red in embarrassment, and the others laughed.

  “Mount up you two!” Ferran ordered. “We still have a long way to go until we reach the Watchers. From here the road will be more like a dirt track and the wilderness will be more unforgiving. Keep your eyes open for Fell Beasts, and pray to Niveren that we don’t encounter any dragons!”

  13.

  Despite Ferran’s dire warnings, the rest of the journey passed without incident. True to his word, however, the road did narrow until its stone surface stopped and was replaced by a dirt track. Thanks to the cold nights and rain showers that dogged them, once they left Akadems parts of the road had turned into a muddy quagmire. The horses found it hard going, and more than once the travellers had ended up in the dirt. Kaiden had suggested that they leave the road to avoid the mud, but Ferran did not agree.

  At night they heard the sounds of Fell Beasts, the wail of a banshee bringing bad memories to Yepert especially. It took them three days and nights to reach the fortress of the Watchers. Its mighty towers dominated the horizon and its long thick walls stretched for two miles from north to south. The citadel defended the narrow stretch of land which divided the Great Plains from the rest of the kingdom.

  As they got closer they could see the banner of the King’s Legion flapping in the breeze and armoured legionaries patrolling the battlements. Kaiden frowned as he spotted another flag flying. Upon its field was a white background, and in the centre was a seven pointed gold star.

  “Impossible …” he muttered. The flag was that of his old order, the Knights of Niveren.

  “I thought the order disbanded after Eclin,” Luxon said as he recognised the banner. Like the others, he was covered in mud, and the dark rings under his eyes betraying his tiredness. Sleeping out in the wilderness without the protection of a sigil stone had been a nerve-wracking experience, and one that had not allowed them much rest.

  A haunted looked crossed Kaiden’s features. “A Knight Vigilant perhaps?” He had lost so many friends at Eclin, and out of the thousands of knights that fought in that terrible battle, less than a handful remained.

  “Whats a Knight Vigilant?” asked Hannah, who was riding next to Luxon.

  “They are legends, really,” Kaiden began. “There are only three at a time, and they are the greatest warriors in the order. They are tasked with roaming the world and keeping a vigilant lookout for dangers that pose a threat. If they do find such a threat they are sworn with trying to destroy it before it emerges …”

  “If the rumours about Stormglade are true, then its little surprise such a Knight would have passed through the Watchers,” Luxon said.

  “There’s only one way to find out, and that’s by going inside,” Ferran added from behind them. He spurred on his mount and led the way to the Watchers.

  * * *

  As they approached, a legionary on the battlements ordered them to halt. He then turned and called down from the wall to his comrades.

  Luxon patted his horse’s neck as it stamped its feet nervously, and flashed a reassuring smile to Hannah and a very nervous looking Yepert. The younger mage had little love for legionaries. He turned back to the fortress as the sound of grinding metal emanated from the gatehouse. The huge iron portcullis slowly rose into the air and a dozen heavily armed soldiers on horseback galloped out toward them. Each of the riders had a cloak of the darkest red draped over their armour, and red plumes atop their helmets.

  “The Bloodriders!” Yepert exclaimed in awe.

  The mounted warriors now circling them were members of the Legion’s legendary cavalry unit. They had earned their fearsome reputation during the Yundol invasions. At the battle of the Ridder, the Bloodriders had smashed the enemy forces in a single charge, an action that had turned the tide in that savage conflict.

  Ferran raised his hands high and gestured for the others to do likewise as the Bloodriders formed a circle and surrounded them, their lances lowered and aimed.

  “Who are you?” demanded one of the riders. The horseman’s plume was larger than the others, indicating that he was the squad’s captain.

  “We are here by order of the king,” Ferran replied. “If I may?” he asked. The captain nodded and the Nightblade slowly reached into his tunic and pulled out a wax-sealed scroll. Davik had sent it to Caldaria shortly after Luxon’s first trip to the capital. Without it they would not be able to enter the Watchers and enter the Great Plains.

  The captain trotted his horse forward and took the scroll from Ferran’s hands. He broke the seal and unfurled the parchment. A few uneasy moments passed, and Luxon noticed Yepert shift uncomfortably in his saddle. The captain grunted and handed the scroll back.

  “Well, that seems to be in order,” the captain said, his voice changing from one of gruff irritation to one of less gruff irritation. “Welcome to the Watchers.” He barked an order to one of his men, who then sped off back towards the citadel before raising a hand above his head. He then waved to the legionaries gathered on the walls. Luxon gulped as he realised that many of them had bows aimed in their direction. The tense atmosphere faded. The Bloodriders lowered their lances and escorted them through the gate.

  Yepert whistled in surprise once they were inside the safety of the walls. The fortress was huge. Once through the gate they found themselves in a vast courtyard lined with dozens of stone buildings. Many of the structures were store houses and barracks, but others were more like what you would find inside a town or city. There were taverns, shops and armouries, as well as a walled-off residential district that housed the garrisoned soldiers’ wives and children. The placed brimmed with activity. Soldiers marched along the cobbled avenues or were shoring up the defences. The sounds of barked orders came from all directions, and the air smelt of smoke from the blacksmiths’ forges. The Bloodriders led them deeper into the fortress until they passed through a second thick stone wall.

  Something gnawed at Luxon’s consciousness, and he stopped. Hannah looked over her shoulder.

  “Are you okay?”

  A heavy feeling spread into his limbs as though some invincible force was staying his feet. He looked around and his eyes settled on a man. The feeling grew heavier. The man was chain
ed to a wooden stake, his torso bare, exposing his scarred skin. His hair was long, lank and brown. The man looked at him, his grey eyes piercing deeply into Luxon’s own. As they watched each other, a feeling of foreboding filled him. Luxon shook his head and looked away. He smiled weakly at Hannah.

  “Just a slight headache. I’ll be fine,” he lied.

  He glanced at the man in chains again before hurrying after Hannah and the others.

  Now they were in the heart of the citadel and its command centre. A tall stone tower dominated the space; anyone stood at the top would be able to see for miles in all directions.

  A man dressed in a simple brown tunic and trousers greeted them. He was tall and well-built, and his hair was cropped short in the legionary style, the only clue that he was indeed a member of the King’s Legion. He smiled warmly at them.

  “Greetings and welcome to the Watchers. My name is Fritin, the commander of this mighty citadel. I hear that you seek to cross the Great Plains. You have come at a very unfortunate time, I am afraid.”

  “Unfortunate? How so?” Ferran asked.

  Fritin dismissed the Bloodriders and gestured for Ferran and the others to follow him inside the tall stone tower.

  “The tribes are restless,” the commander said. “My scouts have fallen under attack every time they venture onto the plains. What information we have gathered suggests that they are warring with one another. The Plains are dangerous at the best of times, but with the tribes in conflict I cannot allow you to cross. It would mean certain capture or death.”

  Hr led them into a large room. A stone hearth dominated the room; the only furniture was a long wooden bench.

  The feeling he had felt outside crept back into Luxon’s mind. Before he could think, he spoke.