Andalon Arises

by T B Phillips

  “You are with child? My child?”

  “Yes.” They cried together for several minutes. Him with joy and she with fear that the child would look more like the city guard.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Campton Shol watched the laborers wading the river. The stones would take years to completely clear, but the engineers suggested that flow could be returned within a few months. In the meantime, they would have to dig out and relocate the ships one by one to other ports; a monumental task when they were required immediately. For the first time since his father had tasked him with securing Andalon, Shol realized the complexity of his situation.

  “We have word from Weston that will please you, My Lord.”

  Campton turned as Kestral approached. “It’s about time you bring positive tidings. It seems that you and your rookery have done nothing but lose until now.” He pointed down at the collapsed bridge and asked, “Children did this?”

  “Yes. We only expected one emotant with affinity for water. Once we had him secured, a second powerful spring emotant revealed her presence. She caught us unawares and collapsed the bridge to secure their escape. They then ran eastward into the forest.”

  Shol shook his head in frustration, biting back words of condemnation. “What word do you bring?”“Cassus Eachann reports from Weston. The trap is set for the summer emotant and we shall have him in custody soon.”

  “The trap is set?” Shol’s cheeks danced with anger and he responded with a raised voice, “This news means nothing! So far, we’ve lost Falconers every time we’ve attempted to capture or kill a pure emotant. I want results, not optimistic prognostication!”

  Kestral nodded then added, “He secured most of the Pescari in a single location within the city and contained the rest in underground mines. He’s planning to purge the continent of fire emotants with a swift genocide once the boy is dealt with.”

  Shol considered the news. “Boys and girls? It seems that our power over this continent is collapsing because of the acts of children. It’s bad enough that Braston has control over those you had collected in Diaph. Speaking of Diaph, did your scouts figure out why we’ve had no word in a week? What is the status of the harbor repairs?”

  “The city has been completely razed, My Lord. Northern Raiders attacked during the full moon and left it in ruins.”

  “Razed?” The administrator could not contain his shock. “How did they defeat our Falconers?”

  “We do not know. The marauders burned the husks, so we were not able to recover my brothers and sisters.”

  “What about the Rookery?”

  “Burned as well.”

  “That will significantly impact my father’s quotas.” Grave concern crept in, sending Campton’s heart racing. “If we cannot turn these losses around very quickly then Chancellor Jakata will surely reset this factory.”

  “The southern ground is finally green enough for our army to march on Eskera. They departed yesterday at dawn.”

  “They cannot fail, my old friend. They must capture and kill Robert Esterling.”

  “We’ve set a trap for him as well. He and Braston will be destroyed together very soon.”

  “You’d better be right, Kestral.” Lord Shol stood silently, watching the workers for some time before speaking again, “Did you say that the children traveled east when they left?”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  “Prepare ten thousand troops and a full contingent of Falconers. They’re marching toward Estowen’s Landing in the morning.”

  “Estowen’s Landing? But that city has long been abandoned.”

  “I don’t believe it remains so.”

  Rain soaked the ground during the night, and the chill in the air worked its way into Shon’s joints. I’m getting too old for the forest, he thought over the popping sounds in his knees and the crackle in his hip. He could have remained in Estowen’s Landing and awaited Marque’s scouting report, but he had grown bored from inaction and decided to meet his friend along the road. He had hoped the morning walk would relax his mind.

  He rubbed his shoulder as he made his way down the trail, massaging out stiffness from an old war wound. More than a decade before, he had taken an axe in the chest while defending Brentwood from marauders. Mornings like this reminded his wound that it never properly healed. He reached to his hip and touched the sharp blade of that very axe, thrown by none other than Braen Braston.

  When he formally met the man several months before, Wembley felt outrage that his niece had aligned with the demon from the north. But his attitude had changed over time. Braston had charisma, a dangerous trait in a leader, but he had proven that he also led with compassion. Like Shon, he built bonds with the men and women who followed him and genuinely cared about empowering others around him. Their agreement was the reason that his outlaw band sat idle through the spring, instead of harassing Imperial patrols as they did before winter.

  The two men had agreed to align their forces toward a common goal. Together they had raided Diaph and conquered Pirate’s Cove, a task that had before been viewed as impossible. Since the attacks, his outlaw band had grown into an army of three thousand fighting men, each trained on Sippen Yurik’s rifles. Their ability to move silently through the forest and hide in plain sight made each man more dangerous than a hundred Imperial soldiers.

  He paused in the roadway, listening to the Black Forest of Diaph and detecting a subtle change in the insect songs. He pulled out his tobacco pouch and placed a plug between his cheek and gums. Speaking into the woods he said, “Good Morning, Marque.”

  Abruptly twenty men rose from the ferns surrounding him, including his jovial friend. “Aye, a good morning indeed, Boss.” Marque strode over and the two grasped forearms.

  “What news do you bring?”

  “There’s a large group of refugees fleeing Diaph. They’re moving south toward Middleton instead of making the trip westward to Eston, and that’s confounded our scouts.”

  Shon raised his eyebrow at the mention of the city. “Why are they fleeing Diaph in the first place? We left it mostly intact and they had enough food to survive winter.”

  “They’ve left because there’s nothing left but ashes and stone, Boss.” Marque waited for Wembley’s shocked expression. Knowing that he had his full attention he continued, “A few days ago, raiders from Fjorik attacked in force. They looted and pillaged then set every building aflame.”

  “How big is the group of refugees?”

  “Several hundred. Mostly women and children, but a few men of fighting age walk with them.”

  “We can accommodate them in The Landing. Send word that we have food and warm shelter.” Shon shared his tobacco pouch with his friend.

  “I already did. I knew you’d want that, so I left a few guides camped along the roadway.” Marque paused to load his lip then continued. “How many more emotants have shown up? We didn’t see any along the roads toward Eston.”

  “So far only a few out of Middleton. I don’t think our system is working.”

  “I’d give it more time, Boss. The Falconers will be cracking down as more awakenings occur, and that will scare those in hiding toward us.”

  “Aye, but we’re running out of time. With those on loan from Braston we have trained twenty to fight alongside our troops.”

  Marque flashed a hand signal to his men who immediately faded back into the underbrush of the forest. Once alone he addressed his leader, “When do we get to fight again, Shon? The men are restless, they just aren’t telling you.”

  “Soon. Braston said to wait and so we wait.”

  “But these are your men, Boss. They follow you and none of us trust the Northman.”

  “I understand but I gave my word that we’d wait. With his ships and our army, we’re better as a team.” He grasped his friend’s shoulder and pulled him into a close embrace. “
Let the men know that I share their concerns about Braston. But Eusari is one of us, and he has her loyalty. Once we drive out the Esterlings and their Falconers we can reconsider our alliance if need be.”

  “Aye, Boss. I’ll spread the word.”

  Shon watched Marque disappear into the forest. After he had gone, the former constable spit dark tobacco juice onto the road. I’m itching for a fight as well, My Friend.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Robert Esterling watched from the window of the keep. The sunrise painted the sky deep shades of red and orange that met the blue with a layer of pink. The marshes beneath the eastern glow reflected the magnificent colors and almost reminded him of the burning steppes he had witnessed in Weston. But this glow signified a different kind of threat. An army loomed across the beautiful horizon.

  He had spent his entire life agonizing over and training for the trials required to assume the throne, but the past few months proved a tougher endurance test than any the council could impose. His friend and father, Maximus Reeves, constantly reminded him that life is the best teacher. So far, he had passed every test, but not without his share of defeats. After the past few months, he had swallowed more than enough humility and came away each time with more wisdom. He no longer worried over the trials and did not need them to prove that he was fit to rule. He only needed to defeat his brother.

  But for a moment the young king yearned for freedom from his obligations. Part of him wanted to get away from the war with his brother, to take Sarai away to the coast for some much-needed rest and relaxation. They hadn’t had a moment to themselves since their marriage ceremony, and a honeymoon would lighten both their spirits. But responsibility is the price of adulthood and his debt to the kingdom grew every day.

  “Robert.” Max’s gruff voice interrupted his thoughts and so he put them aside for later.

  “I saw riders pressing their steeds hard from the east. I assume they’re our scouts. What’s the report?”

  “Aye. The army’s a few days out and it’s worse than we feared.”

  “How many Falconers?” The last time he fought his brother’s troops they had underestimated him and sent ten. He had barely won then, but had since grown stronger and more familiar with his powers. Despite his newfound confidence, any more than ten would be worrisome.

  “At least twenty by early count. But they’re driving ten covered wagons and we have no idea how many more lurk within. I think it’s a trap and should expect thirty or forty.” Max’s face wore a mask of worry that he normally wouldn’t show to the world. The past few months had worn on everyone around Robert.

  “What do you think we should do? We can’t flee, they’d catch us in the open field. We can’t leave by boat; we don’t have enough to load the troops and we’d never make it past the blockade.”

  “Lourdes and I shared the same thoughts. If it came to this, we agreed that you need allies.”

  He of course meant Braston. “No. Absolutely not. We can’t trust a pirate.” Robert walked to a large table in the center of the room and stared at his charts, hoping to find a way out of the fight or toward victory.

  Max put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and spoke gently. “Sometimes we have to face that we can neither win nor retreat without help, Son. You’re in that spot now. Reach out to Braen. He has ships and, if Horslei is telling the truth, he has weapons that can destroy the blockade and get us out this corner.”

  “He also has emotants who can help us fight, Max, but at what cost? Mercenaries always cost you more than you’re willing to pay. What’s his price to win this fight for me?”

  “You need to ask him that question, Robert.”

  A knock at the door caused both men to turn. Captain Titus entered with a grave expression and dire news. Robert put on his regality and stood tall when he asked, “What is it, Titus? More news from the scouts?”

  “No, your highness. One of your newly recruited naval officers reported a personal matter that requires your attention.”

  Max interrupted, “If it doesn’t affect the coming fight then it needs to wait. The king can’t handle personal conflicts right now.”

  “General, with respect I wouldn’t have brought it to you both if it wasn’t relevant.”

  Robert’s interest piqued. “Go on, Titus. What’s the grievance?”

  “Captain Matthieu Dominique’s personal manor was broken into. His ship’s logs and ledgers were stolen and his son, well…”

  “What about his son?”

  “His throat was slit while sitting in a chair. The coroner believes that the wounds were made by cutlasses. Dual wielded cutlasses, sire.”

  Robert and Max shot each other a look and clearly shared a thought. Max asked, “Dominique was formerly of The Cove’s service, wasn’t he?” Titus nodded. “And two men from The Cove recently arrived.”

  Robert nodded, “And both wield dual cutlasses.”

  Titus added, “There’s one more thing. The boy did not struggle. It appears that he was tied up, based on the posture of the body when it was found.”

  Max raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘appears,’ was he tied or not?”

  “There were neither ropes nor marks to signify that he was bound by traditional bindings, sir.”

  Realization hit Robert in the gut. “Air. He was bound by air. Unless another emotant is in the city, it was either me or Marita who bound him. Titus, arrest Horslei and Pogue and bring them before me immediately.”

  “Aye, sir. And the girl? What are your wishes for her?”

  “Take her to Sarai. Don’t make her feel afraid in case you trigger her magic. Let Sarai meet with her privately, but keep guards close by just in case.” To Max he added, “You still want me to trust Braston?”

  Alec Pogue wore chains for the first time in his life. He stared down at the iron bracelets, marveling how many times he had clamped them on other men when he was on the other side of the law. Oddly, they affected him less than he had expected, but he had grown apathetic to many situations since he lost Mattie. His only anxiety at the moment was his desire to find her and the irons further slowed that progress.

  “Can we get things moving? I’ve business to attend to.”

  Three high ranking military officers stared down. The oldest was completely gray and the hard sort, battle worn and surprisingly fit for his age. “Answer our questions and you can get on with it.”

  “I claim diplomatic immunity. I operate under a letter of marque signed by the guild and council of The Cove. Any crimes you accuse me of are sanctioned and you have a duty to release me under their authority.”

  The middle-aged general stared him down with cold eyes as he spoke, “Cold blooded murder isn’t protected, Captain Pogue.”

  “General Reeves, I presume? I assure you that I’ve committed no such crime.” His thoughts immediately shot to Marita. He could still visualize the moment when the blades split the skin and spilled the boy’s life. Surely, they won’t prosecute a child.

  “Someone did, and they used your blades.” Reeves watched him curiously.

  Watching for a lie, General? I know your methods because I interrogate men for a living. “If you’ve proof then you should present it. But King Robert needs an alliance with Braston, and these accusations are impeding that process.”

  “King Robert is better off making alliances with men of honor.”

  “If you doubt Braston’s honor then you truly don’t know him. That man keeps his promises.”

  The older general spoke. “Max, we’re not getting anywhere with him and we don’t have to. Horslei already gave up the girl.”

  Pogue watched the men for signs of a bluff and found none. Dammit, Amash! He made up his mind to comply. “She’s only a little child. Please keep that in mind.”

  Reeves grabbed Alec by the tunic and lifted him from the chair, snarling into his face
. “You don’t get it, do you? Every action that a child makes was taught by an adult they respected and loved. I saw the way she drew those blades across the boy’s neck, and I’ve seen it before. Your style of swordsmanship is a closely guarded secret, but masters of the dual blade call it ‘crossing the crimson river,’ don’t they?”

  Alec did not respond. He was correct, just as Horslei had been. Marita had watched him use the technique aboard Desperation and even gave him her silly thumbs up. Realization hit and tears flowed for all of the children but especially his own missing daughters. They’re only children but we’re using them like pawns. His heart broke knowing they would forever be affected by the kidnapping.

  Reeves tossed him down in a heap and the tears continued to flow. If only I had searched for Mattie sooner, he thought as he wept. After the sobs had ended, he looked up at the men staring down. “Yes. She learned the move by watching me. We had no intention of harming the boy and only wanted answers.”

  “Answers to what?”

  Alec began with the disappearance of Mattie and the girls and ended with the death of Adolphus Dominique, choking up when he repeated the confession by Stefan Nevra. The other military men said nothing as he spoke and asked no further questions. After he had finished the men gently helped him from the chair and walked him to a holding cell.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Marita sat comfortably across from The Lady. She had earlier introduced herself as Sarai, but that was total nonsense, now that she knew that The Lady was the rightful Queen of Eston. As such she had no first name. Kings did, but queens did not. They were always, “My Lady” or “Your Highness,” and “The Lady” sounded better than “The Highness.”