The Vlakan King (Book 3)

by Jim Greenfield

  "Lockwell?"

  "Good guess, but King Hal is not Lockwell's father, he is my father." The shape was of a young man moved forward but its form did not stay fixed as if it was standing in rushing water and Merie looked through the water. Merie could see the other side of the room through him. But he was there!

  "I am James Islen, son of Henry Islen, king of Eslenda. At least, that is what I believe."

  "You are a real ghost?"

  "Yes and we are related, in a sense. I think I am your uncle. I once was more corporeal but now I cannot interact with the living other than voice. I believe I am fading and will leave Landermass for good soon. I have warnings and knowledge to impart to you. There are things you need to know, but you cannot remain here. You will soon be hunted as Krysta was."

  "Hunted? I don't understand."

  "No time," said Raeind. "We must leave now."

  "But, I must leave a note."

  "Quickly then. Only say you are safe. Do not mention us," said Raeind.

  Merie scratched out her note and dressed, the Men looking away. She took her short sword. "I'm ready."

  Raeind smiled at her. "With your help we shall rescue Princess Krysta. Come here." He took her hand and suddenly the room spun.

  When Laretes forced open Merie's door the next morning he found the note and the boot prints of one man. How they left the room he could not tell and Lockwell would not heed King Hal's calls to appear before the kings. Prince Jahnn found himself between the two sad Kings for the remainder of their visit. The great hall was very cold.

  Chapter 7

  The Daerlan's original home was in Arda in northwest Anavar. They built homes in the trees drawing from the land and giving back to the land. It was said to be a place where the weary were refreshed; a place of music, art and verse. It was as beautiful as any place in Landermass. Then the shadows grew among the tall trees. The Daerlan king waged war on the Weirluns nearly wiping them out. Peace could not be found in Arda. The king's youngest son, Navir wrested the throne from his father and led his people across the water to Amloth where they founded a new home, Liannest. Years later it was revealed that the Menaloch had poisoned the health of Arda, turning Navir's father against the Weirlun and earned the undying vigilance of Navir against the return of the taint of the Menaloch.

  From Gerrand's Histories of Landermass

  Navir watched the horsemen approach at a rapid pace. He saw they were Daerlan and he frowned. None of his kinsmen ever came to him save with dread news. For two thousand years he had been their king but the Daerlan no longer shone brightly in the world giving way to lesser but more numerous races. As they faded to a woodland people Navir renounced his crown and spent uncounted centuries wandering throughout the wide world looking for ills to mend. His strength was green and his love for life unsullied but he could not bear to watch his people diminish. They no longer cared for the pursuits of their forefathers, instead settling in as hunters and traders. The beautiful cities wrapped among the ancient trees of Arda where left behind to crumble into dust and such heights were never attempted in Liannest.

  Navir walked on the continents of Anavar and Amloth; spoke with the Jungeguds and the few Altenguds who remained. His own legend grew over the centuries and he was the eldest Daerlan in Landermass, a mythical being as much as the Altenguds and Jungeguds. Stories rose around him some accurate, some giving him magical powers akin to Mauran de Arayr. He had few friends until the Talos Company asked him to join them. He had backed Altair and Gorm Talos their beginnings and now he would walk with the immortal company. He cherished the time spent with the Talos Company as an equal compatriot but his wanderlust would not let him be. Navir would leave the company for years or decades at a time only to return unannounced. Kerreth Veralier accepted Navir's quirks without comment and the other members soon did the same.

  The riders stopped and dismounted bowing low to Navir. Navir recognized one rider as Gaerhan whom he had known all of Gaerhan's life but the other was a young female he did not know. She stared at him intently but did not speak.

  "Navir, we have search long for you," said Gaerhan. "King Faelir needs your assistance once more. One of his nieces Aidae was kidnapped by the Celaeri."

  "Celaeri? Truly?"

  "One of them was killed during their escape. There is no mistake; it was a Celaeri. There are six on the road with Aidae. We have no idea why she was taken or where she is going. Our riders crossed Nuneland and watched the passes eastward but the kidnappers did not come that way. A scout returned from the south saying pale strangers tried to steal a boat."

  "Taking her to Anavar? That makes no sense. All the Celaeri are in eastern Amloth, in Cresida. Going to Anavar would be reckless."

  "King Faelir requests the Talos Company to search for her. He will open our treasuries to the Talos Company if asked."

  "How many days behind the kidnappers am I?"

  "Five. We have soldiers covering the southern coast but we fear they may go to Eslenda to find a boat or ship heading to Anavar."

  "How did they get into Liannest?"

  "We do not know. All the guard stations were attended and no one saw anything unusual. The Celaeri seemed to appear out of nowhere in the Raarfae Garden where Aidae was walking. Her companion was killed."

  "Who was her companion?"

  "Princess Naenea."

  "Faelir's eldest. Ah, much sorrow for Faelir. She was so young and much to give."

  Navir began to pack his belongings and tied his bedroll to the back of his saddle.

  "I will ride to Eslenda. Send word to the Nunari, Eslendians and Masinans. Tell them that no Celaeri shall be given a berth on a ship or allowed to purchase a boat. If they spot them, send word to Faelir and do not let the Celaeri out of their sight." He mounted his horse without a look back to Gaerhan and his companion.

  Gaerhan bowed. "It shall be done."

  Navir rode over a steep hill and was gone.

  "So that was our once great king?" asked the other Daerlan.

  "Yes."

  "He is younger in appearance than father although he is my great-great grandfather. He doesn't even know me. He gave me but a glancing look."

  "No, Princess Fataenia, he does not. He is a singular Daerlan. But he did know your grandmother Naenea, may she live in our hearts forever. Come, we have messages to send."

  "Should I have introduced myself?"

  "No. He will know you when you are ready, not before."

  "He doesn't acknowledge lesser beings?"

  "I misspoke. He will seek you out if you have raised yourself to a place where his assistance would be beneficial. Navir does not nurture brief relationships. If you are deserving of decades of his time you will receive his attention. If not, well, at least you saw him which is more than most Daerlan can say."

  Fataenia looked back once more, and then followed Gaerhan.

  Navir feared this day. The Celaeri were barely beaten back the last time they tried to return from the shadow world. The outcome hadn't been certain during that struggle but the Talos Company and their allies won the day. That the Celaeri's reach extended to Liannest and no one knew until it was too late proved that the vigilance of Men failed. Too much time had passed for the short-lived Men to retain the urgency or alertness necessary for an immortal foe. It should not have been left solely to the people of Cresida to keep watch. Other races should have offered to help, but as usual, they kept their own counsels and did not reach out to Men. Men were useful but unbearable to be around. Worse, they did not comprehend the other races' contempt for them. Thankfully their lives were short.

  Navir had long tried to push ideas on others and when that didn't work he switched to subtle nudges. Long ago he set forth the notion of a roving band of heroes to Gorm Talos and his brother Altair that resulted in the creation of the Talos Company. Altair recruited Daerlan and other long-lived races but it wasn't until their paths crossed with Kerreth Veralier that the Talos Company became known throughout Anavar. Kerreth was
a peerless fighter and a unique individual with his tusks accenting his huge frame. But even after centuries the Talos Company never grew beyond a core group of individuals so its impact was much less than Navir hoped. Still, the legends of the Talos Company were stories told to children of all races but others had not been moved to start similar groups with similar aims. Navir often felt weighed down by his ideals and also isolated by them. Few could claim such a long-term view or had the time to nurse generations of world leaders. Men held sway in most of Anavar and Amloth and their short lives winked out long before the fruits of their labors could aid Navir. Even with their short lives they still multiplied and their influence covered most of Landermass. Short lives meant short memories and legends grow and mutate and Navir could no longer recognize some of the fruit of what he had planted. At times like this he missed Aeli most and would find himself drifting towards Toraba to see his daughter Wynne. But those visits were never pleasant and far too infrequent.

  Navir followed the road south into Nuneland. The land was flat and he would make good time. Once he reached Eslenda the terrain would grow hilly and forests began to cover the land. He anticipated surprises left for whoever followed the kidnappers to be waiting where the trees draw close to the road. Six kidnappers did not allow for more than one or two to be left behind to stall pursuers. Perhaps an archer would be hidden but if the pursuing group was large the archer could not stop them all.

  Navir stopped briefly to rest his horse then pushed onward. The next afternoon he came upon a squad of Faelir's soldiers. Two of them were dead; arrows in the chest.

  "Lord Navir!" shouted their captain. The other Daerlan looked in wonder. Few had seen Navir in the flesh in the last three centuries.

  "Deagan. How long ago were your men killed?"

  "Just minutes. I have four men in the woods looking for the archer. There was no sign of anyone else. This arrow is Celaeri made. I do not like what this portends."

  "No more than I Deagan," said Navir. "But I fear dark days to come. I will continue ahead. Follow, as you will. We must not let them leave Amloth."

  Navir saluted the squad and rode hard. Despite his words he knew there was little chance to stop the kidnappers from reaching Anavar. Their lead was too great and once at sea it would be difficult to catch them. He heard horses behind him and saw Deagan sent four riders after him. Navir smiled grimly to himself; more targets for the Celaeri arrows. There were some small fishing villages along the coast north of Riverdowns. He was sure the Celaeri would get a boat there. The Eslendian soldiers would not be alerted in time and anyone who tried to stop them would be killed. He would have to chase them all the way to Anavar.

  Chapter 8

  The kingdom of Cresida in eastern Amloth is separated into North Cresida and South Cresida; not officially of course, but in practical terms. In the south is the capital of Andara, a large city with wealthy merchants and a thriving port. The kings of Cresida ruled from Andara and seldom journeyed north of the city. The temperature was more moderate and the excitement of the great city could not be replicated elsewhere in Cresida. The northern cities were fortified towns and the land less tame than in the south. It was near the largest north city, Gornst, where the Celaeri had dwelt. The tales of the Celaeri were still well known as the tales to scare children but the elders remembered the tales of the Celaeri and there were places travelers did not venture alone. The Black Heath was such an area where faint music rose up on a dark, still night. Voices sometimes called across the shadows and were answered by other ethereal calls. The Celaeri may be banished to the shadow world but they did not go far. They wait.

  From Gerrand's Histories of Landermass.

  In eastern Amloth, in the kingdom of Cresida, in the city of Gornst, Colly Bulger stretched his legs onto the bench across from his chair. He smiled, softly growled and allowed his chin to rest upon his chest. Soon the rumble of his snores greeted the patrons entering the Grey Fox Tavern. Colly's huge frame dozing just outside the tavern door in the afternoon sun was a comforting sight to the people of Gornst and a sign of peace in the town. The peace had lasted over a year since Colly hung up his sword again. When the terror of the Celaeri and the iron fist of Dacu Belderag, Lord of Gornst, collided the people of Gornst despaired for their lives. The legendary Talos Company came to help them and it was revealed that the burly tavern owner Colleson Bulger had been and still was, the King's Hand; a mighty fighter and a leader of men. Colly and his huge battle-sword were instrumental in the defeat of the Celaeri and of casting aside Belderag in place of King Haldane's daughter, Princess Linna who now ruled Gornst. Colly greeted the well-wishers as he occupied his place in town lore. The Grey Fox was always busy and remarkably peaceful as taverns go. Colly was one reason and a former captain of the Gornst Guard was another. Captain Aran Picker resigned his post and married Colly's daughter Danni and the two of them ran the tavern and were raising Picker's children, a boy and a girl. Colly hoped he would hear news of one of Danni's own children in the near future. It was the best of all worlds for the aging Colly. He did help out from time to time but usually he was the mascot and signpost for the tavern.

  There was a hint of coolness in the breeze as the summer reached its end and Colly looked forward to his 'post' where he was out of Danni's way but she could check on him from time to time. He did not mind being mothered by his daughter, not one bit. The edge in the breeze kept him in a light doze, not fully asleep and vaguely aware of the commotion of the day. It was just the way Colly wanted it.

  "Ah Colly. You have lived up to my expectations," said Colin Festin the blacksmith. His large shadow shaded Colly's eyes as they flickered open. "I knew you would find your true calling one day."

  "Hi Festin. Do you begrudge me a hard earned reward?"

  "No, I do not. I'm actually a bit jealous if you know the truth." The thickly muscle grey haired man slapped Colly's shoulder. Colin Festin was Colly's oldest friend and the blacksmith for Aryar Greyrawk, former Lord of Greyrawk Mountain who was killed by Belderag years ago. It was Festin who first saw Ian Greyrawk return to Cresida in what was the eventual downfall of Belderag and the lifting of the oppressed people of Gornst. Festin still worked as a blacksmith although he had two apprentices and one journeyman who handled most of the work. He wasn't as detached from his business as Colly, but he was slowly reaching the same point.

  "Well then, grab a chair from inside and sit out here with me. There's a permanent spot for you if you want it. Gets a bit lonely dozing out here by myself."

  Festin ducked in and returned with a chair and a pint of ale.

  "I might take you up on that Colly. Since my wife died I've lost some of the zeal for my work. My journeyman, Carlik, is ready to take over the business. I just need something to occupy my time." He took a long pull on his pint and sat back in his chair.

  "Colin, occupy that chair and relax. The world keeps moving whether you jump in or not. I prefer not at this point in time."

  "You have a wise head, Colly, although I surprise myself to say that. I'd much rather end my life dozing in a chair than pitching forward over my anvil."

  "Let's not get too morbid. I plan to sit out here for many years more."

  An old woman shuffled up to them. Her clothes were worn but of good quality. A large man stood behind her several paces off, glancing around the area. She looked at Colly with a keen stare.

  "Rumors, dear Colly, I have rumors."

  "I'm through with rumors, Chander. Haven't you given up your occupation yet?"

  "I'm busier than ever. Princess Linna gives me special commissions. Now the thieves' guild is run much the same here as it is in Andara. No more cutthroat relationships. It is now a dignified occupation and a very profitable arrangement. I am glad I lived to see this day and I shall not retire until the excitement fades."

  "What are these rumors you bring to disturb my afternoon?"

  "Some travelers have spoken of the Black Heath," said Chander. "Some traders came through and spoke of so
me losses they had in that land. They lost a wagon and horse found a very terrified compatriot who did not speak coherently for several hours. One of the traders was experienced and level headed. He got the man to calm and relate what he had seen."

  "No. It can't be starting again."

  "Yes, there are stories rising again of the dark shapes and lurkers in the night. What did you call them? Vlakan? Could the Celaeri return?"

  "I do not know, but why tell me this? You have the ear of the Princess."

  Chander made a sour face and spit.

  "She discounts my reports. She is very strong willed and cannot be easily swayed from her opinion. She believes the battle you won was the last word in the matter. The Celaeri left vowing never to return. She doesn't see the dark side of the Celaeri as well as you. Out of sight out of mind, perhaps. You have a voice of authority in this manner, Colly. Also you are a friend of Tarlac Brandalay. His wife would be able to add weight to your arguments."

  "Chander, I would need more than stories."

  "I know, I know. Ask Brandalay to investigate. Colly you are the best man for this. I do not want another war to affect my business. I do not trade in food or weapons nor do I want to." She walked away.

  "Well, that ruined my day," said Colly. "What are you looking at me for?"

  "She is right," said Festin. "The Princess would listen to you. You are the King's Hand; that title has not been given to anyone else. King Byron did not appoint anyone else as the King's Hand after his father died. It appears old King Alec appointed you for life."

  "I am not sure I will keep that chair for you after all," sniffed Colly. "If this is the way you will treat me."

  "Papa! You behave." A woman stood in the doorway. She shook her head.

  "Danni! Why aren't you in there working? A tavern needs a steady hand running it, not someone who stares out the door."