"The Menaloch was this idol?" asked Pashar Bei.
"Yes. The Altengud Cothos had fooled the Menaloch into triggering the spell that cut it off from the outside world and imprisoned it. Over the centuries the Menaloch found ways to send its thoughts out to sentient beings but there were few in the desert."
"So what did Tag Makk do with his iron control over his people?"
"The Menaloch hated the Daerlan and at one time the Turucks and the Daerlan were one race. The Menaloch must have thought it poetic to warp the mind of Tag Makk to drive him to destroy the Daerlan."
"Ah, that would entice the Jungegud. Very good. So the Turucks began conquering their neighbors? I believe that was in the histories."
"Yes," said Machel "Each time they grew stronger and the Menaloch's grip was tighter. Finally, Tag Makk decided to cross the sea to Amloth and seek out the Daerlan."
"And he was defeated in Eslenda? By Men?" asked Pashar Bei.
"Not just Men. The Talos Company was fighting with the Eslendians."
"Ah, the Talos Company. Did you see them?"
"Yes, before I fled. I am not fighter and the outcome was becoming clear."
"I do not blame you," said Pashar Bei. "Before I had magic I would have been running ahead of you. Was the leader of the Talos Company the legendary Kerreth Veralier who died at the hands of Wulfgeld?"
"Yes, the very same. I was uncertain if Wulfgeld would defeat him."
"As was I. Veralier was very powerful almost a creature of magic himself. It was said he was the only Zidar without magic."
"Many half breed Zidar have magic, why wouldn't Veralier? Perhaps he wasn't Zidar. What race had tusks? I never heard of any."
"I do not know. The tusks always intrigued me. Perhaps he was part god?"
"That is scary," said Machel. "Is he really dead?"
"Wulfgeld decapitated him to be sure. If he was less than a god, then he will remain dead. So, back to Tag Makk. Was he insane at the end?"
"I believe so," said Machel. "He was driven to attack even when the odds shifted. He once was a fine strategic mind but it abandoned him. At the end he rushed into battle without planning. He just followed his rage."
"The Menaloch took over him by then I believe. The Jungegud never ease their touch on your mind." Pashar Bei seemed to have a new thought and was quiet for a moment.
Machel Moet looked at him.
"Are you curious about Tag Makk to compare to your own situation? Do you feel Galamog eating away inside your mind?"
Pashar Bei looked at Machel and his eyes grew cold.
"Fall back. I will walk alone from this point."
Machel felt rather than heard the faint crackle of sorcery and quickly put several yards between himself and Pashar Bei. Lockwell had warned him to step carefully. He focused on calming his heartbeat as he walked to join the soldiers at Lathor. The Celaeri had already forced the gate and stormed inside the city. The speed of the Celaeri cut through the defenders and they were merciless. Wierland would soon fall.
Captain Amatir abandoned his collapsed horse and ran to the woods, his lungs burning. Panic had nearly overcome him but he was thinking again now. His legs felt heavy and he stumbled often but soon the stress began to subside. He leaned against a tree breathing hard.
Curesia had surrendered. It's capital, Jespin, was battered, its gates thrown down. Pashar Bei controlled Curesia and the royal family locked inside their apartments in the castle. The remainder of the Curesia army now marched under the flag of Pashar Bei. The sorcerer's goal was Calendia and he was passing through Curesia and Wierland without concern for those kingdoms but if they stood in his path, then he would conquer. At least that's what Amatir thought until part of the Curesia army took up their swords and followed Pashar Bei. It had to be sorcery, but it still made the odds greater in Pashar Bei's favor.
He could see the faint images of the Celaeri soldiers veer from their easterly course and head north directly to Lathor. Amatir had hoped the city would get a pass since the Wierland king had wisely not set soldiers to contest Pashar Bei's passage through Wierland. But Pashar Bei did not appear to be content with passage through Wierland; he wanted it under his heel. King Rallot would feel the might of the Celaeri after all. Amatir wondered where Corporal Perat was. He hoped the corporal was safe in Nantitet by now. There shouldn't have been any reason for Perat to stay long in Lathor. If he was still there it could cost Perat his life.
The Celaeri appear to have reached the walls of Lathor before the first defender launched an arrow. Amatir turned and made his way eastward, praying Perat warned Calendia. He ran as far as he could and then sat down for a rest. He needed a few minutes so he could continue.
Amatir rested and woke up from a nap he did not mean to take. He jumped to his unsteady feet and saw movement to the west. The Celaeri were closing fast. He raced ahead of them certain the scouts had seen him.
Amatir skirted along the top of the valley keeping an eye on the Celaeri behind him but they did not give chase. They marched in an orderly fashion toward the valley. Amatir saw soldiers on the far side of the valley edge. At this distance it was difficult to be sure but the colors appeared to be Calendian. It wasn't a large army; only an advance company and the numbers were far too few to stop the Celaeri. Where was the bulk of the High King's army? Why hadn't they come to fight the Celaeri? What could keep them from defending against the Celaeri advance? Amatir had first hoped to gain protection from the Calendian army but the lack of numbers changed his mind. There was no way the small company could withstand Pashar Bei's advance. He would have to continue on to Nantitet.
Pashar Bei's soldier's march into Wierland did draw the attention of the Calendian army and an advance company was sent to test the mettle of the invaders. One company was all they could afford to spare with the larger Mordyn army matching from the east. Captain Percane waited for the scout's report. He stood on a rise with a view to the valley below. Beyond the valley were the highlands where the Wierland city of Lathor snuggled under the mountains. Pashar Bei's soldiers would come through the valley if Lathor fell. Percane had six hundred men in his company; enough to slow the advance of the Celaeri for word to reach Nantitet if attack was imminent. His soldiers were disciplined and would resist the images thrown at them by the sorcerer to unnerve them. With such a small force Pashar Bei had to be relying on his magic to intimidate his opponents. He would find the Calendian soldier a different creature altogether. It had only been a few days since word that Curesia was under attack had come to Calendia. Percane had already set out from Nantitet and was deep within Wierland when word reached him of Curesia's fall. He immediately sent a messenger back to the High King and decided to wait for Pashar Bei to come to him.
One of the advance scouts came riding back from the west. It was Monty, the most experienced soldier Percane had under his command. The man could smell an enemy at a hundred yards.
"Captain, they are moving toward us," said Monty. "Might be five thousand swords."
"What? They only attacked Jespin with five hundred. Where did they get the rest? Are they all Celaeri?"
"They look to be dressed the same. No Wierland colors or shields."
"Five thousand! Did they come out of the air?" asked Percane. "That many Celaeri change the complexion of our strategy greatly. Let me think. How best to slow down so many soldiers faster than we are?"
"Pardon me, Captain, but aren't they led by a sorcerer?" said Sergeant Lankel.
"Yes. Pashar Bei is his name I am told. He's Mordyn."
"Couldn't he make more soldiers magically to appear that his forces are overwhelming? Or at least the illusion of more soldiers?"
"You are absolutely right, sergeant. Monty, ride back there and see if you can determine where the illusion starts or at least when we need to hit them. Don't get too close."
"Yes, Captain!" Monty hustled to his horse and rode away.
"Well, Lankel. Where do we set up our line? Do we assume we fight eighteen hundred o
r more? Five thousand can work around us so we should have the landscape in mind."
"Monty will let us know," said Lankel.
"I don't think we will have enough time to set the lines if we wait for Monty's return."
"Then plan for the worst. I'll send the men to the east side of the valley. Horsemen on the west side to cut them off if they try to evade us. Archers to the high ground."
"Good. Lankel, I've enjoyed being your commander. You are an exceptional soldier."
"Thank you Captain. It's been an honor." They clasped arms and then Lankel rode off to prepare the lines. Percane thought about his young daughter for a few minutes; her bright smile and ringlets. There was a shout: the Celaeri had entered the valley. Percane drew his sword and held it up; sunlight sparkling along the blade.
Percane's soldiers met the front lines of the Celaeri and found very little resistance. The Celaeri fell before the blades of the Calendians. Suddenly, a shout rang out from Lankel. The fallen Celaeri's glamour vanished, revealing Wierland and Curesia soldiers dead from the Calendian swords. That was how they increased their numbers.
"Continue the attack!" shouted Percane. "The Celaeri are in there somewhere. We cannot afford to hesitate!"
The renewed effort was only partially successful as many soldiers were reluctant to kill innocent men. As Percane predicted, the real Celaeri soon came charging forward and easily carved up the front line of the Calendians. Percane called for a retreat when he saw Lankel go down. His men tried to disengage but the Celaeri were too quick and it became a route. Percane rushed to cover the retreat of his men. He barely wounded a Celaeri before his sword was knocked from his hands. He dodged but not quickly enough and the flat of the Celaeri blade grazed his forehead and he went down.
It seemed but a minute had passed when he opened his eyes and saw the sorcerer standing over him. The sounds of battle had ceased.
"What is your name Captain?" asked Pashar Bei.
"Percane." He struggled to his feet and swayed as he stood before the sorcerer. He looked around him to the bloody bodies of his soldiers.
"Well Captain Percane, you fought well and for your bravery you shall be spared; from death that is. I shall cloak your men as Celaeri and they shall be the first to feel the blades of you comrades who defend Nantitet. You shall witness the slaughter of your surviving men and march at the front of my soldiers into Nantitet. Your men will be helpless to fight back and will have full awareness of their fate as they comrades rush forward to kill them. Is it not a wonder what my magic can do?"
Machel Moet looked away from the brave Captain of Calendia. Percane spat in the face of Pashar Bei but the sorcerer merely wiped his face clean.
"It will be interesting to see how long your courage lasts in the face of certain death by your own comrade's weapons. Perhaps someone you trained will kill you. Let's hope he is skilled with the blade so you won't suffer long. After your men have been killed I shall lift the enchantment and the defenders shall see what their violence has wrought as you witnessed with the Wierland and Curesia heroes. Ah, I wish you would be alive then to see their despair. Delicious. All I can say is delicious."
Chapter 25
I have not seen a Vlakan although my archives have many tales of them. The Vlakan is a large creature sharing aspects of a wolf and cat, fast and strong, intelligent and a relentless hunter. The tales diverge in some respects; that the Vlakan are animals in their own right and others claim they are Celaeri transformed into their base selves. Landermass is home to several large species of predator; the Wolfen - huge wolves as thick as bears but led by a transformed sorcerer, the Amogrihens, feline creatures whose origins are unknown but many were created in later years by Macelan, my mentor, warping Men into lethal stalkers.
From Gerrand's Histories of Landermass.
The guards at the Dael gate stopped everyone who desired to enter the city. Davan stared at all the tents and people outside the walls. Most were artisans who did not qualify to sell their wares inside the city. However, their goods were quality and lower priced because they were not part of the inner markets. Many citizens of Dael came outside the walls to find bargains. Most of the people re-entering the city were bearing their purchases home. Davan and Jarius were stopped at the Dael gate by the guards. They used Brevin's supplies to clean themselves up and mend their clothes but the signs of lengthy travel could not be removed. Brevin waited in the line behind them to find out why they were detained. He made no movement toward them and said nothing. Davan immediately knew not to acknowledge Brevin although he could see Jarius' frown and hoped Jarius wouldn't say anything.
"Where are you bound?" asked the guard.
"I am following my father," said Davan. "He came to Amloth to find work. We heard word that he had gone on to Cresida, but we could only get a boat for Masina. We need to buy supplies to continue our journey."
"Hard luck, lad. It's a great walk to Cresida. Can you buy horses or a wagon?"
"No. We barely have enough money for tonight's dinner."
The young men did not have any money for lodging and the guards knew they had to bring them to the Captain of the Guard. King Kalen commanded all strangers interviewed these past weeks. The guards thought the King had grown paranoid since the disappearance of his granddaughter. Sometimes he would sit and stare at the newcomers as if willing them to break down and confess to crimes. At times the newcomers would sit in a cell for a few hours before the King let them free. Davan and Jarius seemed destined for the cells. Brevin watched them and then approached the gate. He was waved through and followed the street toward the castle in the boys' wake.
King Kalen opened the windows at the shouts. He saw the Eslendian banners of the soldiers marching past the city of Dael on their way to Cresida. King Hal had sent an army in response to the plea for help from Princess Linna of Cresida. The Celaeri were bringing war again in their quest to wrest back their homeland from Men. King Kalen recognized the figure at the head of the column; it was Prince Jahnn, King Hal's grandson. He wore a burnished gold chest plate and a gold helm with silver wings. He raised his hand in salute to King Kalen. The Prince changed direction and rode into the city escorted by six guards. The king's attendants hurried to prepare the great hall even as King Kalen walked in that direction. When the king entered the hall he found two city guards with two young men.
"What is this?" asked Kalen.
"Your highness, we beg your pardon. We thought Captain Berkat was in here. These two youngsters came to the city and are strangers without the means to support themselves. They spoke of needing supplies but have no money to buy them. We did not want to allow them free run in the city with theft in their future. We brought them here as ordered."
"Very well. Captain Berkat is not here so I will deal with them in a few minutes. Prince Jahnn of Eslenda will be walking through those doors shortly and you need to step aside."
The guards shoved Davan and Jarius to the far side of the room. The heavy footsteps of the Eslenda guards heralded Prince Jahnn. Davan was surprised to see the Prince was of an age with him but the Prince moved with confidence. Davan saw the Prince glance around the interior taking note of everything.
"King Kalen, it is an honor to see you again." He bowed his head to the aged king.
"Ah Prince Jahnn, welcome to Dael. How is your grandfather?"
"He is well, but no longer able to ride this far I'm afraid. Time is finally caught him but he is content. I am riding to Cresida to aid them against the Celaeri. I must make haste while Gornst still stands. If the Celaeri take the city it will be hard to dislodge them from north Cresida."
"Cresida! That's where we are headed," exclaimed Davan. "Take us with you!" The guard gave a strong forearm to Davan's chest knocking him backward.
"And who are you?" asked Prince Jahnn.
"They are newcomers to Dael," said Kalen. "Vagabonds with a tale to tell, no doubt. Well, they will be able to polish it up sitting in the dungeon."
"No! My fathe
r is going to Cresida. He is ill and I must help him."
"You sound like a good son, but Prince Jahnn cannot be bothered with such things. He is going to war. You will stay here a few days until I can be sure of your intentions."
"Our intention is to get to Cresida," said Davan.
"That is enough! Prince Jahnn may your quest be fruitful."
"Thank you, King Kalen. As I said, I must hurry. I stopped to pay my respects. If you can spare any soldiers I would be appreciative."
"Ah, you know I have few soldiers."
"I can be of help," said a voice from the shadowy corner. The guards quickly formed a protective wall between the voice and Kalen and Jahnn.
"Who's there? This happened when Krysta disappeared. Lockwell, why have you returned?"
"I am not Lockwell," said Brevin, stepping forward with his palms raised. The soldiers formed a circle around him.
"Then who are you?" asked Kalen. "And why do you come into my presence unbidden?"
"My name is Brevin Tarbin. I am a merchant trader from Anavar. I am traveling with Davan and Jarius whom you have met."
"What help can you be?" asked Prince Jahnn.
"I am a member of the Talos Company."
"What? A foolish tale," said Kalen.
"And I am a mage."
"Prove it," said Prince Jahnn coolly.
Brevin had expected this and released his spell. The swords of the guards glowed with heat and the guards cursed and dropped their blades. They stared at Brevin who raised his palms again.
"Well, the mage part appears true," said King Kalen.
"I was commanded by Kerreth Veralier himself to watch over Davan and Jarius as they search for Davan's father, Ian Greyrawk," said Brevin,
"Greyrawk? That name is not unfamiliar to me," said Kalen. "One of the old families of northern Cresida. You believe Greyrawk is headed to Cresida?"
The Vlakan King (Book 3) Page 23