Cilano opened the door to his master’s chamber and broke his concentration of the grim view he had seen so many times before. “Kalzarius, we are fully surrounded, there at least three thousand men and more on the way. What do we do?”
“Sir Sulian, Sir Karai, nor Sir Leonard have joined the attack, which means we have hope in those knights still loyal to Lord Savanno, my student. I have the protective wards raised higher than any catapult could fire and it is about to be a very foggy morning indeed. “Honmar invonar sebilius!” Kalzarius raised his staff and right hand, closed his deep blue eyes, and concentrated on the ground around the tower. Mist and fog rolled in from the streets and thickened into a six foot high blanket that concealed all.
“How long can we hold the barriers and fog? Five, maybe six days before you reach exhaustion? We need to prepare our students for battle and back them off with an offensive assault, master.” Cilano was nervous, he had never seen a siege of such size happen so quickly. Nor had he seen a bishop, the banners of the king, and three knights allied against Kalzarius and with them in such short supply of allies.
“We need to give Gwenneth and her friends all the time we can. As long as the king thinks they are here with Savanno, we are victorious. We shall not open fire, magical or otherwise, unless we are breached. Until then, we remain peaceful in hopes that this political mess gets itself unwound. Is that understood?” the old wizard was very serious in his tone, gritting his teeth a bit even. He had been in this position, to one degree or another, several times. Only twice had he been forced to take life, and he regretted them both.
“Understood master.” Cilano went to have the men ready the supplies, bring up the stored food, and relay the orders of non violence unless there was a breach to the capitan. He wondered how Kalzarius stood so calmly in the face of such odds. He floated down the spiral stairs that lined the outer walls of the tower interior. Past candelabras, chandeliers, sconces of arcane flame, and vast libraries; Cilano kept his pace hurried for he knew the capitan of the tower guard was just as worried at these numbers as he was.
The arcane guards, wizards in training mostly, opened the front doors for the master student. He surveyed the tower grounds which were barely a hundred feet of grass, trees, and hedges between the tower and the outer wall. His levitation dismissed, Cilano walked to the gate on the western side of the ten foot stone wall that surrounded tower of Kalzarius. He could see the fog beyond that had engulfed the soldiers of Harlaheim, yet their lanterns were many. To a trained wizard such as he, the shimmer of arcane barrier was visible melding into the outer enclosure and rising fifty feet in the air all the way round. Cilano knew he could not hope to maintain a spell of that size for more than a few hours himself. The thick iron bars and spikes along the wall and gates would keep them out for now, and the barrier invisible would stop any aerial attacks. Despite all the protections, Cilano felt unsafe and knew that they were all in great danger.
“Capitan, we have a standing order to not attack unless-“
The gray cloaked capitan with his arcane symbols embellished on his armor and tabard handed Cilano a rolled up parchment with a wax seal upon it, the seal of the king. He said nothing, merely looking out the gate through the bars and into the fog; waiting for the first sign of attack. The veteran bodyguard and loyal capitan stood patient, allowing the right hand wizard of Kalzarius read the order he had been passed only minutes ago from a sergeant of Madame Florin’s brigade.
“16 Janry, 345 A.D.
By order of King Richmond L’Drannuis the Second, his majesty of the great kingdom of Harlaheim,
Kalzarius Ar’Tallim of the great capital of Harlaheim, high wizard of the tower of Kalzarius, you are hereby ordered by his majesty the king to stand down your servant guards and students. You are to lower your fortress defenses, arcane and otherwise, and allow the knights of Lady Knight Errant Florin L’Milierre access to your property. By official sanction of Bishop Javiel Gerier, the high court of Harlaheim, and his majesty; you have been accused of conspiracy to the throne, treason, harboring fugitives and thieves of the church of Alden, blasphemy, heretical acts, and resisting the authority of the king. These crimes are laid upon you, your servants and students, and any and all on your property. You are also ordered to appear before the king with said fugitives and one Savanno Lisario, former knight of Harlaheim who it is believed you are also harboring. Failure to comply with local authorities stated above shall result in enforcement through military means. Should forceful action be taken against such duties, your life, lands, and chance of presentation before your king shall be forfeit. You have one hour from the time of delivery of this warranted order to comply with the agents of the kingdom.”
Cilano knew the answer Kalzarius would give to this warrant, and felt even more unsure of their safety and survival of this seige knowing that Florin now held more power than any of the remaining knights; in fact, she now led them. He looked at the royal stamp on the wax seal, looked up to the silhouette of Kalzarius on the twentieth floor window, and tore the parchment into pieces then threw it back through the gate it was passed through.
“Capitan, you have your orders from Kalzarius. They stand as such, be careful and be ready. In one hour they mean to charge us.” Cilano walked back to the tower to inform his master of the latest news.
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Shinayne T’Sarrin was motionless in the tall oak tree she had climbed halfway up; the vantage from her perch on the branch allowed her to see for nearly a mile in any direction of the Harlaheim countryside. They had walked for hours in the darkness with only the low light of Gwenneth’s staff to guide them in this foreign land. Saberrak was posted by a tree where he watched the north, Azenairk by a small rocky hill keeping eye on the road ahead of them, and Gwenne sat on a dry log that had fallen and concentrated on her senses of the arcane. The owls and small animals of the waning night moved through the forests, curious of the travelers yet not daring to get too close. The green moon was a sliver overhead and the white moon, Carice, was barely much more behind it; truly a dark dawn slow to rise in a strange place.
The young lady of Lazlette sensed something, several things enchanted with arcane energies nearing them but not coming directly. She felt them closer now, a crown that held protective spells from long ago, a ring with the same, and two swords; she recognized one of the blades, her father’s sword. Gwenne felt the magic radiating from the griffon pommeled broadsword of her late father, the blade James Andellis carried. She sensed them perhaps a mile away to the east, heading northeast on the road away from her.
“I feel him, James is near and not alone. He is ahead of us on the road and moving at a steady pace. We should leave now, Savanno is not returning.” Gwenneth stood up and began to walk on the side of the muddy road toward the northeast, following her yellow light in the near darkness.
“Are you certain it is him?” Saberrak picked up his greataxe that leaned on the tree and walked with her, wanting explanation for the arcane certainties she employed. He tried to see the sunrise through the hills and trees, yet it was as if the light avoided the morning.
“Of course, minotaur. If I was not, would I be walking in the dark of early dawn to meet someone?” Gwenne retorted snidely and shook her head at the huge horned warrior.
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” the minotaur returned the comment, yet followed her down the road.
Azenairk Thalanaxe joined them, then stopped and looked to the tree where the elf was posted. “Lady Shinayne, we should go. Lord Savanno would have been here by now. It has been many hours.” he put his warhammer on his belt, secured it and walked forward slowly.
“I will wait here a while longer, perhaps he-“
“Elf!” Saberrak whispered loudly. “We have to leave. He is not our concern, he made his decision. More could be coming and James is up ahead. Let’s go!”
Shinayne looked back to the western road they had walked, wanting to go and find the Harlian man that had helped
them escape. The elven swordswoman climbed down the tree with grace and ease, her eyes scanning for any movement. She drew her blades slowly and took cover behind a tree, her back to the west and staring at her friends who were staring back at her. “Three horses, one man, heading this way. I can hear them from here.” she whispered low and nodded for them to take cover as well.
All but Saberrak moved. The gray gladiator stood in the middle of the road, horns lowered and axe in hand. He snorted the air, his nostrils picking up the scent of blood and sweat from whomever was getting closer now. The minotaur crouched low, digging his heel in the mud and preparing to charge should it be anyone other than Lord Savanno. As the horses passed the treeline on the road, Saberrak saw the flash of steel as Shinayne’s blades appeared out across the man’s chest.
Savanno turned to the elf that had caught him off guard, forcing a smile to his lips and raising his gaze from the blades to her eyes. “You should be further ahead by now, my lady.”
Shinayne smiled and sheathed her swords, giving a bow to the former lord of knights. “We waited for you in hopes of your victory.”
The dwarf spoke up quickly. “And a long victory it was indeed, we should be going. Gwenneth says that James is ahead on the road to the mission and with others.” Zen fiddled with his iron box in his pouch, wishing to get away from danger and closer to his secret promise he made to his father.
Savanno handed the reins of two of the horses to Gwenne and the dwarven priest, then mounted the third himself. “Twas not the victory that took long, my apologies. It was the prayers and burial over my longtime friend Bernardus that slowed me.” the lord kicked his horse on ahead, his head low with sorrow. He had no choice in the matter, yet having killed one of his own knights left him feeling more grief and pain than he could imagine. He struggled with the meaning of it all, the young ruthless king, his wife, the knights, and now killing Bernardus. Savanno saw his actions and purity plain enough, however he did realize to those that viewing from the outside, he may appear to be guilty of what he had been accused. He began to wonder what the cost of it all would be, and to what end.
“I am sorry for your friend, but it was either him or you. Those decisions are never easy, and I do not envy your position. Your help is greatly appreciated, Savanno.” Shinayne bowed to the human lord, feeling his sadness without any effort.
All five of them shared more silence while trudging the road to the rendezvous in the foothills. Shinayne and Saberrak were on foot ahead of Savanno, Gwenne, and Azenairk on horseback. The minotaur smelled it just after the elven woman saw it; campfires, six or more off of the main road headed north now. They were camped in a small valley between two well forested hills, just as Savanno had instructed. Tents enough for twenty men and plenty of steeds as well, they even saw supply horses tethered and unpacked.
“Cristoff.” the former Lord Knight Errant felt relief knowing he still had some allies.
“James.” Shinayne whispered, having missed him and his blade this day. She cared for him as much as she worried for him.
“Who goes there?!” several bowstrings drew back, the stretching noise creaking into the air and mingling with the crackling fires.
“Lord Knight Errant Savanno Lisario and company to see Lord Cristoff Bradswellen the Third.” the Harlian man walked forward to the soldiers of his cousin, eager to see him in this most desperate time of need.
“Yes my lord.” the man bowed, motioning for those hidden throughout the surrounding trees to lower their aim. He went into the blue and white tent in the rear of the camp, a dozen men taking a look at the strange company. These humans had obviously not seen much of elves, wizards, minotaurs or dwarves; yet they seemed as veteran soldiers that had seen many a battle. They bowed, albeit hesitantly at those present, and received the same in return, except for Saberrak who again would not bow.
The tent flap flung open, a middle aged man in plate armor of fine decoration approached. His small silver crown held sapphires atop his long dark and graying hair and trimmed beard. His impression was one of leadership and confidence as he strode with hand on his sheathed longsword, blue cape flowing in the mild breeze, and his crown and rose emblems all polished. James Andellis walked behind the Lord of Saint Erinsburg, his eyes lowered as he saw Savanno, giving away that something was not right.
“Well cousin, a fine mess we have here. Let us talk of how this could be salvaged, and how best to get the company of this scroll safely to Soujan Mountain.” Cristoff did not want to tell him of what his scouts had heard in Harlaheim last evening, and he had ordered James to silence in the matter. The noble lord reached out his hand to Savanno, pulled him close, and held him tight knowing that what he was about to tell him may very well push him over the edge.
“I killed Sir Bernardus in a duel just a few hours ago cousin. More men will be trailing us soon, we have to move off the roads and get them to the dragon. Kalzarius is under siege by now, and we-“
“I know Savanno, I know. Sir James has informed me of everything on our travel here. Scouts have reported more. There is something I must tell you, inside my friend.” Cristoff bowed to the bearers of the scroll, knowing he would have time to meet them in more detail and formality in the journey to the hidden mountain.
“James, what is all that about?” Gwenneth was curious as to why the lord would not meet with them or speak in front of them. She looked to Saberrak, Zen, and Shinayne with the same puzzled look.
“The siege has begun, and much larger than ever before. It seems the king wants Kalzarius and –“
“We know all about the siege James, we were there as they were planning the defenses. What is it with Lord Savanno?” Saberrak huffed, not wanting too hear again things he was aware of on no sleep.
“Savanno has been stripped of title and Lady Florin has taken his position. She also leads the attack on the tower that is supposed to begin tonight.” James lowered his head, not wanting to tell any more, remembering his vow to Cristoff.
“And for being married to the queen in secret, he is lucky that is all he has suffered.” Gwenneth spoke up, not feeling all too sorry for the man who made his own decisions and knew well the consequences of such actions.
“You know of that?” James looked up in surprise.
“At this point, that fact is no longer a secret to anyone James. Savanno told us.” Shinayne knew there was more, but waited til the knight of Chazzrynn decided to tell them.
“The king had Rosana imprisoned yesterday, and if found guilty at court, she will be executed.” the veteran knight hung his head, looking back at the tent.
“So when is the court convening on the matter. Kalzarius and Savanno will come up with something surely.” the elven swordswoman looked under James’ hair for a glimpse as to the real meaning he was not sharing.
“They had court when you left, and her execution is tomorrow night. She will face the guillotine for treason and adultery, and in front of Castle L’Herrim with at least two thousand soldiers in formation. It is hopeless.” James felt terrible for Savanno, and wished there was something he could do.
They all lowered their heads as the scream of pain and denial echoed from the tent and into the dark forests outside of Harlaheim. Like a man who had fought legions for years only to find nothing to return to, Savanno sobbed and yelled his grief and agony for all to hear. He cursed Alden’s name, time and again for the armband and for his plight. Begging and pleading with God for this to not be, he tired eventually and fell into a deep sleep of shock and exhaustion.
Cristoff emerged from the tent. “Men, pack our supplies. We head north through the valley pass to Soujan Mountain. Load Lord Savanno onto his horse. Scouts may leave now, but three of you remain to cover the rear. James, you and your allies ride in the front with me until midday, then we make camp. At night, we will ride ahead to your mountain to meet your dragon. The journey is two days, and we will have time to talk then.” no one questioned his orders for a moment, he had that aura of trust and
nobility to him. They all knew the risk he was taking simply by being here, let alone assisting his cousin and those hunted for the scroll. Cristoff’s honor was apparent in word and deed. He mounted his black steed, and led the small army through the hills, watching his back for whoever may be sent from Harlaheim.
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Lady Knight Errant Florin inspected her rapier, eyeing the perfect edge and black swirled steel crossguard. She paced in front of the thrones, admiring the empty one to the right of a tired and weary King Richmond. She played with her short curls of dark hair, and felt content with the day. The siege was awaiting orders from the king to begin assault, her agents of the White Spider in place by the entrance to the tombs that led under the tower of Kalzarius, and the queen was in prison awaiting her execution. With her new title, Savanno and his order of knights mostly under her rule, and the wizard kept busy; Florin’s hopes were reaching their summit. All that was left was for Richmond to invite her into his confidence even more, and she would have all the power in Harlaheim. If not, she would take it.
“My king, I await your orders to attack. May I ask why you delay, your majesty?” her voice was soft, alluring, and full of care in all appearances. The grand chamber was empty, save the two of them, and Florin had all the time in the world to wait for his orders.
“I have spoken to Rosana, and she is with child Florin. This goes no further, understood?” Richmond, despite his youth and treachery, was having second thoughts of executing his queen.
“Is it yours, my liege?”
“Of course it is not mine, you are well aware of what has been my marriage and why it bore me no heir, Florin! Do not toy with me.” his hands held his face above his regal garb as his elbows rested upon his knees.
The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns Page 11