by Lana Axe
“Excellent!” he cried. “Simply excellent!”
The engineer dipped his head and placed his hand over his heart, taking pride in a job well done. “Your armies will lay the finest siege Nōl’Deron has ever seen,” he declared.
“Indeed we will,” Tyrol replied. “I shall be remembered for the scale of it as well. Tell me, how many of these could we have prepared in a month?”
“At our current pace, I believe we could have a dozen, Your Majesty.” The engineers estimate was generous, considering production of all other goods needed for war, including food, were at an all-time low.
“See to it then,” the king replied. “I will rain chaos upon Ra’jhou!”
Chapter 25
Within days of Aubriana’s betrayal, another Ra’jhouan city fell to the Na’zorans. A substantial portion of Ra’jhou’s army had been defeated, with the majority of soldiers being scattered. The few regiments that remained intact had retreated north toward the castle. Some of them would never arrive.
Efren feared for the cities in Na’zora’s path and ordered them to be evacuated. “Have all troops and citizens removed from the area,” he said. “We will accommodate them here.”
“But, Your Majesty,” General Willem protested. “There are so many here already, and removing our army would be madness. We must continue to fight.”
“We have already lost,” the king replied, his head held low. “Do as I command.”
“If we do not stand in their way, they will overrun us!” Willem shouted. “This is your kingdom. Will you do nothing to save it?”
“I am doing all I can,” the king replied. “I will protect my people until the end. Do you have a better solution?”
“Stand and fight! Show them we are not cowards!”
“Their mages will incinerate what’s left of our army,” Efren explained. “I wonder, will you stand and watch them burn, or will you burn next to them?”
Without another word, Willem walked away. He was quickly losing faith in his king. Withdrawing when they should fight was unwise. Obviously, the king didn’t know what he was doing when it came to fighting a war. Na’zora would see this as weakness and take the opportunity to advance more quickly. All Willem could hope for was to gather the troops at the castle and lead them in a final assault.
Efren stood in silence, listening to the general walk away. He had failed to find a way to combat the mages. Disrupting their supply of potions was the best he could do. With Kal’s death, Efren’s hope to eliminate the problem had died as well. Though he had searched at length to find a solution, he was no closer to learning how to combat the mages.
“Majesty,” Duke Arden said, breaking the silence. “May I ask the logic behind removing the troops?”
“We must pull them back to help defend the castle. Ra’jhou will continue to march until they have taken every city and village we have left. Eventually, this will be the only place left standing.”
“Then you’ve given up,” Arden commented, staring at Efren.
“No,” he replied, “but I don’t want to lose more innocent lives. The people will be safer here on the castle grounds.” With all his heart he wished his army was strong enough to put up a good fight. This was not the case, though, and he realized it. A new strategy was needed, and the only place left with strength was his own castle. If he was going to strike, it would have to be from here.
“Then you wish me to begin preparations for a siege?” Arden asked.
“I do,” Efren replied. “We must gather all supplies remaining and bring them here. Make sure all citizens bring as much as they can carry from their homes. I’m not sure how long we can hold out, but we have to try.”
“I understand,” Arden said.
“The castle walls must be reinforced. Ryshel has worked closely with the citizens living on the grounds. Speak with her and find out who among them has experience in architecture or masonry.”
“Of course,” Arden said, nodding.
“There’s one more thing,” Efren said quietly. “We need to be able to defend the walls, and there aren’t enough soldiers returning. I’d like to train any willing citizens, male or female, to use a bow. We need archers posted on the walls at all hours.”
Arden’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Majesty, your councilors will never agree to allow women to act as archers.”
“I don’t care!” he shouted, his face becoming red. “The women of this kingdom will die too if Na’zora succeeds. They have as much right to fight as the men.” Taking in a deep breath, Efren tried to relax. “I am only asking for volunteers,” he said in a softer tone. “I will not force anyone to do this, but I will not turn the women away. Any citizen over the age of twelve who wishes to be trained shall be trained.”
“As you command, Majesty,” Arden replied.
Arden made his way down the castle steps and walked among the makeshift camps that had been set up to accommodate the citizens. There were hundreds of people living in four separate camps. In a matter of days, hundreds more would arrive. Shaking his head, the duke thought, They will be living inside in the cellars next. Though he did not like the idea of living in the same building with common men, he would make do in this time of war. After all, the entire population was under the same threat.
Ryshel stood at the center of the northernmost camp. Upon seeing her father, she smiled and waved. “What brings you out here?” she asked.
“The king would like me to find you. We need to reinforce the walls, and he thinks you will know which citizens have the necessary skills.”
“I know of only a few,” she replied. “But I’m sure there are more than I’m aware of. I will find them and send them to you.”
Arden continued to stand, staring out at the camp.
“Is there something else?” she asked. Laying her hand on his arm, she said, “Tell me what troubles you.”
“I fear your husband has given up,” he replied. “He has no desire to fight. He’s pulling all troops away from the remaining villages, which will allow Na’zora an easy path here. They will march on us in full force, and we may not withstand the siege.”
“Surely it is better to strike from a position of strength rather than let scattered groups be overrun one at a time,” she stated. “I support the king’s decision.”
The duke nodded. “I’m not so sure, but you make a valid argument. Perhaps you can help with another matter.”
“Of course,” she replied.
“We need to train archers. I know a few soldiers who will make excellent teachers, but we need volunteers.”
“I will spread the word at once,” she said. “I’m sure most of the men will be happy to volunteer. Though there are no soldiers among the camps, there are many who would stand and fight.”
“King Efren would like volunteers of both sexes, if they are willing.” Duke Arden pursed his lips and looked away from his daughter. The idea of female soldiers still did not sit well with him.
“I will ask for any who are willing,” she said with a smile. “Don’t worry, Father. Ra’jhou’s women are braver than you think. Mothers will not volunteer, but strong women who are stout of heart will jump at this chance to aid the kingdom.”
“Just don’t put yourself on the wall with a bow,” he replied. Reaching for his daughter, he squeezed her tightly against his chest. She had always been a child of strong opinions, and that had not changed since becoming queen.
Chapter 26
More citizens arrived each day, but with guidance from Ryshel and Duke Arden, placing them went smoother than expected. Dozens of citizens had volunteered to train as archers, including several young women. They were thrilled to have the opportunity to defend the kingdom.
Masons and builders worked day and night to reinforce the castle walls. The paths into the mountains were cleared in case the people needed to retreat farther to safety. It wasn’t an ideal plan, but there was little other choice.
Efren was pleased with the progre
ss, and complimented his wife on her hard work. “You have done an amazing job for our people. I’m certain you shall be remembered as the finest queen Ra’jhou has ever seen.”
Ryshel blushed at the compliment. “Any queen would do what I have if presented with this situation.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” Efren replied. “Ra’jhou has never placed enough value on its women, and even a queen might fear to step forward and take command.” Drawing her near to him, he added, “If I am forced to surrender the kingdom, I will do what I can to ensure your safety and the safety of our children.”
“Don’t say such things,” Ryshel replied. Pouring herself into her work was a perfect distraction from the realities of war. She knew well they may lose the kingdom, and even their lives. Those topics were not often discussed, and she hated hearing her husband despair. “We must remain strong,” she said, squeezing his hand.
Sitting at her husband’s side, Ryshel watched as a delegation of dwarves was led into the throne room. They must be the ones the northerners were complaining about, she thought.
“Your Majesty,” Arden said. “The dwarves have arrived to give you their version of recent events on our northern border.”
“There is war to my south already,” Efren stated. “Have you come bringing war to my north as well?” He did not have the patience for a petty dispute. If they meant no harm, he would allow them to live in peace along his border.
A heavy dwarf with a thick brown beard stepped forward and bowed. “Most honorable King of Ra’jhou,” he said respectfully. “My name is Pedr, and my people have come down from the Wrathful Mountains to seek a new home. We are refugees of a bloody civil war among our people. To my misfortune, I was on the losing side.”
Efren smiled despite himself. Before him was an honest man, that much was plain to tell. “You have been exiled, then?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. We seek only a new home. We have no desire to harm anyone, and we would enjoy the opportunity to trade with your people as we once did.”
“In my grandfather’s time there was free trade between this kingdom and the dwarves of the mountains. The idea of such trade brings me hope. However, we are currently involved in a war, and I don’t know how long this kingdom will exist.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Pedr replied. “I would help you if I could. My people are highly skilled in weapons crafting, but we are few in number.”
“How many have you brought?”
“Only a few hundred, I’m afraid,” the dwarf replied. “We would make only a small army, but we will gladly offer our assistance.”
The dwarves who had traveled with him chimed in their agreement before being hushed by the assembled councilmen.
“Then I welcome you,” Efren declared, to the dismay of his councilors. They muttered among themselves, clearly unhappy with the king’s decision.
“Come,” Efren continued. “Meet with me privately. There are things we must discuss.” An idea had come to him, and he once again had hope. Perhaps they could defeat Na’zora after all.
Ryshel rose to take Efren’s arm, and accompanied him and Pedr to a sitting room.
“Leave us,” the king said to her.
His command took her by surprise, but she obeyed, leaving him and Pedr alone.
“Could you get a message to your king?” Efren asked.
“Perhaps. I am an exile, but I still have connections.” The dwarf observed Efren closely, only now realizing that he was blind. Such a king would never be accepted among the dwarves. He would be seen as weak. It intrigued him that Ra’jhou would follow this man, who was so obviously flawed. He decided Efren must be a man of great worth to be allowed to rule.
“I have a proposition for your king,” Efren said. “One that I think he will find most beneficial. A silver mine sits unused on our northern border.” Efren had an idea that would involve giving the dwarves access to it. Knowing of a dwarf’s desire for precious metals, he hoped the king would agree to his terms. Silver’s excellent magical properties made it highly desired among dwarven craftsmen.
Anxious to hear the king’s proposition, Pedr replied, “You have my full attention, Your Majesty.”
* * * * *
After hours of discussion and planning, Efren emerged to announce his decision to the court. “The dwarves will be welcomed along our northern border. The towns nearby will offer them trade, and we will share the rights to the silver mine with them.”
Murmurs spread all over the room as many disagreed with the king. One councilor boldly rose to speak. “Your Majesty, this is outrageous! We cannot give away the few resources we have left!”
“I said we would share,” Efren said, correcting him. “This is my decision.”
The councilman muttered something inaudible below his breath but once again took his seat. The others looked as if they’d eaten lemons, but none of them spoke.
Pedr fetched a second dwarf from his party and brought him before the king. “Majesty, this is Groot. There is no finer craftsman in the Wrathful Mountains. He can craft you magnificent weapons, the likes of which you have never seen. Your army will be better outfitted than any Na’zoran, including the king.”
Efren nodded his approval. This new alliance with the dwarves might be the best strategy he had crafted thus far.
“I commend you, my lord,” Ryshel said to him. “It’s obvious your councilors are in disagreement, but I too see these dwarves as an asset. They will improve the strength of our army and give us a fighting chance against Na’zora. Well done.”
“At least someone sees the wisdom in my decision,” he said with a smirk. “I have set a new plan in motion. If it succeeds, Ra’jhou may be saved.”
Chapter 27
“What is the meaning of this?” Duke Arden asked as he approached three men standing in a poorly lit corner of the castle. “Why have you summoned me here?” He was more than agitated by their note, which insisted he be present for an urgent meeting. If it was so urgent, why was it not held in the council chambers? Hiding in a dark corner was not an appropriate way to hold council.
Arden immediately recognized Councilman Faril as well as Idran and Pral. Their backs faced the wall as their eyes darted around, searching for uninvited guests. Faril motioned the duke to come forward. Shaking his head, Arden reluctantly obeyed.
“What’s going on?” he demanded. “Where are the rest of the councilors?”
“Forgive us for meeting like this,” Faril said. “We did not want to arouse suspicion.”
“What could be more suspicious than hiding in a dark corner?” Arden asked, raising his eyebrows.
“This part of the castle sees little use,” Idran explained. “It was necessary to find a place where we wouldn’t be observed.” The three men glanced at one another.
Pral cleared his throat and said, “We have a proposition that will succeed only with your cooperation.”
Arden stood silent, awaiting further explanation. What could possibly require such secrecy? If these men had information that could change the war in Ra’jhou’s favor, then it was something worth sharing with the king. Finally, he said, “Do you have a new strategy against Na’zora’s mages?”
“This has nothing to do with the war,” Faril replied. He looked over at Idran.
“We propose,” Idran began, “replacing the king.”
“This is treason!” Arden shouted. “You’ve all gone mad!”
“Please,” Faril begged. “Keep your voice down!”
“You cannot seriously be considering this,” Arden said. “There is war upon our doorstep. This is no time for treachery!”
“If King Efren were to suddenly be taken ill and die, we would have need of a new king—one who would prove a more effective leader in war,” Faril explained.
“Nonsense,” Arden replied. “A child would be left as king. Prince Melor is only eight years old!” Efren’s eldest son would be the rightful ruler, and nothing these men said could change that.
“This is a time of war. The kingdom must not be divided over who will rule in place of a child. You three are wasting my time!” Arden could feel the heat creeping into his face.
“You would be the most likely regent,” Pral said.
Arden stopped for a moment and stared at the men. They were right. In the event of Efren’s death, Melor would inherit the kingdom. No one would allow a child to rule, and a woman would not be accepted as regent. With no other male relatives on the king’s side, the queen’s father would be the closest male relative. The duke was a nobleman with a good portion of land and many supporters at court. Apparently, these men had thought this plan through.
“We cannot do this without you,” Faril said. “There is no one else with such a strong claim to the regency.”
“Consider this carefully,” Pral said. “We’re offering you a chance to serve as king. This is no small favor we would be doing for you.”
Arden stared back at them with contempt. “You should be ashamed of yourselves,” he said. “I’ll have no part in this.” He turned and stomped away, leaving the councilors behind in the darkness.
Though he tried to dismiss the idea, thoughts of becoming king crept into his mind. What would he do differently? Would he be able to hold the kingdom together? He shook his head. If he knew a way to win the war, he would have already shared it with Efren.
As he continued along the hallway, another thought occurred to him. What if Efren’s death was all King Tyrol actually wanted? That would leave the throne open for the taking. One man could not hope to control both kingdoms, though. There was far too much land, and empires never last. The people of Ra’jhou would reject his rule and revolt. Tyrol couldn’t possibly be in two lands at once.