A Gathering of Armies

by Christopher Williams

  Inside the wall, was an open area that traced the inside of the walls. The castle proper was a large building made of stone that sat in the middle of the octagon. The structure wasn’t spread out, but was compact with many floors. The castle structure rose four or five stories above the castle wall. It was truly a magnificent building.

  Passing through the gates, Atock took a moment to glance around. The open area had several small buildings including a stable, blacksmith, and several guard houses. People bustled back and forth, even the little children helped with the work.

  Atock admired the configuration. A small number of men should be able to defend the castle from a much larger attacking force. Slowly his enthusiasm faded, as the thoughts of holding the castle made him think once again of Fort Mul-Dune, where he and the other Guardians had held the fort against overwhelming odds. Even though they had won the battle, they lost their first fellow Guardian: Callin Obiah – Trestus’s brother. Callin was the first Guardian in their squad that they had lost, but he was not the last.

  “Atock? Something wrong?” Enton shouted.

  Atock shook his head, realizing that he had been lost in his thoughts, daydreaming about fellow Guardians long dead. He hurried to catch up, crossing the open area and quickly climbing the steps to join the others.

  Enton held the door open for Atock to enter, giving him a quizzical look.

  The interior of the castle was a mixture of Spartan rooms and luxury. It seemed that the Baroness Wharton liked to live comfortably, while her husband preferred things to be a bit more rudimentary. Some rooms were furnished only with wooden chairs and tables, and the next room might have soft couches and expensive carpets.

  Like the grounds, the interior of the castle was bustling with activity. Servants ran hither and thither, seemingly without purpose. Pages and knights hurried on assigned errands, and there was an overall sense of preparing for war. Regardless of whether they were servant or knight, they quickly stepped out of the Baron’s way.

  The Baron led them up a short flight of stairs which ended on a small landing. A single door was the only way off the landing excepting the stairs they had just climbed. Baron Wharton pushed the door open and led the way in.

  The Baron’s study seemed to be his only allowance for luxury. There was no desk like in Sir Charles’s study, but there was a long wooden table surrounded by padded wooden chairs. A thick rug covered the floor, and a large cushiony couch sat along the far wall between two windows. The couch looked well used, and Atock could easily picture the Baron reclining while he read a book. The curtains were pulled back and allowed the late afternoon sun to light the room.

  Also unlike Sir Charles’s study, Baron Wharton had a considerable number of books. Over half the wall space was covered in floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Some of the books appeared ancient. An unlit fireplace sat in the corner of the far wall.

  Lord Steel sat down in the chair at the head of the table, as was his right. Baron Wharton sat in the chair to Lord Steel’s right, along the long edge of the table. Atock and Enton each took a chair on the long side opposite Baron Wharton. Atock, Enton, and the Baron all waited for Lord Steel to speak.

  Lord Steel busied himself in moving his gloves and loosening the buttons of his shirt collar. Finally he took a deep breath and looked up. “Well Henry, how goes the war preparations?”

  Baron Wharton appeared disgruntled. “My men are enforcing your orders.” There was something just a bit off about the words. The Baron managed to express his displeasure without outright questioning the king or Lord Steel.

  Lord Steel appeared to suppress a smile. “I am not fond of the orders either, but I do understand the reasons behind them.”

  Baron nodded his head once, a stiff jerk of acknowledgment.

  “Baron,” Atock began cautiously, careful of offending the nobleman. “Telur faces imminent attack by a horde of goblins. Surely you understand the necessity of harvesting the crops and destroying everything that’s left.”

  Baron Wharton looked from Atock to Lord Steel. There was an unspoken question there, but Lord Steel seemed to understand it.

  “It’s okay, Henry,” Lord Steel said. “You can speak freely.”

  Baron Wharton still looked uncertain, and he hesitated before speaking. “My Lord, I am,” he paused, searching for the right word, “doubtful about the supposed attack. What evidence does the king have that it’s actually going to happen?”

  “Prince Zalustus announced his intention to sack Telur before the end of the summer,” Enton said. “I heard him myself.”

  “And who is Prince Zalustus?” Baron Wharton asked.

  “He’s the heir to the throne of Golt,” Atock explained. Golt was an ancient kingdom that had almost completely been destroyed during the Demon Lord Wars. “He wants to refight the Demon Lord Wars, but this time he wants to win.”

  “He’s the one that led the siege of Fort Mul-Dune,” Enton added.

  Baron Wharton looked appropriately shocked at this announcement. “Golt? Fort Mul-Dune?” He appeared to consider the possibilities, then he suddenly went white. “This has to do with Kelcer, doesn’t it?”

  Lord Steel waved his hand dismissively. “Do not worry about Kelcer. The story you have been told is untrue. We have nothing to worry about with Kelcer, as long as Zalustus does not win this war.”

  Baron Wharton looked less than convinced, but he held his tongue.

  “Baron,” Atock began slowly, “we studied Sir Charles’s maps, but we couldn’t find where we thought the goblins will cross the river. Do you have maps of the river?”

  The Baron seem to forget his apprehension about Kelcer, and he actually smiled. “Sir Charles has maps of the river?” He chuckled then. “How old are they? I’d be surprised if any of them have been drawn in the last hundred years.” He caught sight of the look on Lord Steel’s face, and quickly changed his tone. “I meant no offense, my Lord. It’s just that Sir Charles’s family has been so poor for so long.”

  Lord Steel did not seem to think much of the Baron’s apology. “Do you have any newer maps, or are yours as old as Sir Charles’s?”

  Baron Wharton swallowed hard, realizing he had angered his lord. “Ah, yes, my Lord. I do have some recent maps.” His face lit up, as if an idea had just occurred to him. “My Lord, there’s a man in the village who spent many years working a riverboat. Perhaps, if you like, I could get him and we could question him about the river.”

  Lord Steel was prevented from answering, by a hesitant knock on the door.

  “Come,” the Baron called out.

  The door was pushed open and several servants entered carrying platters of food and drink.

  “Excellent timing,” the Baron said. “Why don’t you eat dinner while I see about finding that riverman?”

  Atock was already reaching for the food, before Lord Steel had nodded his head to the Baron.

  They must have been hungrier than they thought, because the next half hour all that Atock, Enton, and Lord Steel did was devour the food. They barely even spoke to each other, just enjoyed the Baron’s hospitality.

  Atock was the first one done. He pushed his chair back and let out a truly marvelous belch. Enton grinned appreciatively, but Lord Steel looked scandalized. “My apologies, my Lord. It’s a sign of appreciation in my country,” Atock said.

  Lord Steel looked slightly mollified and went back to his food.

  Finally, they were all done eating and beginning to feel a bit sleepy, when the door was pushed open and Baron Wharton entered. He was not alone this time, but a small old man followed him.

  The Baron stepped to the side and motioned to the old man. “Lord Steel, this is Gilga. He’s one of the workers who tends my fields, but he used to work on a riverboat.”

  The old man stepped forward. He was short and skinny. His skin was leathery-looking and a deep, dark brown. He had a white beard that hung to his chest, and his white, coarse hair hung to his shoulders. He had a long nose and thick, bushy ey
ebrows. All-in-all, he was not the most handsome of men.

  Gilga did a slight bow, looking uncomfortable. “My Lord, you have questions of me?”

  Lord Steel nodded his head. “Yes.” He turned his eyes to the Baron. “Were you able to find those maps?”

  “Yes, my Lord.” The Baron motioned for someone still standing on the landing to enter. A page came in carrying several bundles of rolled up papers. The page made to set them on the table, but stopped at a word from the Baron.

  “Hold a moment,” the Baron looked to Lord Steel. “With your permission, I’ll have this table cleaned. So that we can spread the maps out.”

  Several moments later, the table was cleared and cleaned. Baron Wharton had returned to his seat, and only Gilga remained standing. Gilga appeared extremely nervous. He fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other and constantly wringing his hands.

  Baron Wharton began to spread the maps across the table, but Atock shifted his attention to Gilga. “What can you tell us about an area for large group of men to cross the Adelion river?”

  Gilga’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “How large did you mean, my lord?”

  Atock smiled, hoping to put Gilga at ease. “A huge number, an army.”

  “An army?” Gilga exclaimed.

  “Yes, an army,” Lord Steel said. “Where could such a large number of men cross?”

  Gilga looked from Atock to Lord Steel. After a moment he seemed to grasp the implications and went pale. “Wouldn’t they just use ferries?”

  Atock shook his head. “No. It would take a long time to move an army by ferry.”

  Gilga remained silent, considering.

  “What we’re looking for, is somewhere along the river that an army could cross. Somewhere between Victory Lake and Alandell Lake, without the use of ferries,” Atock said.

  Gilga remained silent for several more moments and then shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t think of anywhere where an army could cross without ferries.”

  Baron Wharton spread a large map across the table. It was much newer than those that belonged to Sir Charles. The map’s focus was the southeastern boundary of Telur, with the course of the Adelion River clearly defined. Baron traced the river with his finger. “My Lord, I simply don’t see where an army could cross.”

  “Well,” Gilga said, “not between those lakes, but why not go to the east, around the lakes?” He seemed to have forgotten who he was talking to, and interjected the question into the conversation. The whole time he spoke, his eyes were fixed on the map.

  Atock shook his head. “No, there wouldn’t be time. The army would be in a hurry.”

  The four seated men watched Gilga as he studied the map. They remained silent, hoping he would discover what they had missed.

  Finally, Gilga shook his head and looked up the map. “I’m sorry, my Lords. I don’t see how it could be done.”

  Atock sighed. He’d hoped that this sailor might guess the goblins plan. Another thought occurred to him. Perhaps we’re going about this the wrong way.

  “Did you sail this area of the river many times?” Atock asked.

  Gilga smiled and nodded his head feverishly. “Oh yes, many times indeed. Sometimes the trip was easy but in other years, it was unbelievably difficult.”

  “And why is that?” Atock asked.

  “Depends on the water level,” Gilga said.

  Atock was completely confused. “Water level?” he asked hesitantly.

  Gilga nodded. “Yes the water level. In some years the Adelion river is fairly high, while other years the water level is pretty low. When the water level is low, traveling the river is much more dangerous.”

  Atock knew a thing or two about ships, as his homeland was an island nation, but he didn’t know much about a changing water level.

  “And is the water level often low?” Enton asked.

  Gilga shrugged. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. You never know from year to year. Might get ten years straight of high water levels, then ten years straight of low levels. It’s all up to the gods.”

  “When the water level is low, there are more exposed rocks and the rapids are that much more dangerous,” Baron Wharton explained.

  Lord Steel nodded slowly. “Thank you, Gilga. You’ve been most helpful.”

  Gilga bowed and turned to go.

  “Wait a moment,” Atock said. “How’s the water level this year?”

  Gilga had already taken several steps toward the door, but stopped and turned back. “Well, sir, I have not been on the water myself, but I’ve heard that it’s the worst anybody can remember. I’m told that traveling the Narrows is damn near impossible.”

  “The Narrows?” Lord Steel asked.

  “Yes, it’s a poor name for the area,” Baron Wharton said in explanation. “It’s an area of the river that’s very dangerous.”

  “Well, why is the name bad?” Atock asked.

  “Well, you see, it is actually the widest area of the river,” Gilga replied. “That section of the river is where the river spreads out in many different little forks. So, the water is spread out and the river is shallow. In addition to the shallow water, there are many rocky little islets and shifting sandbars.”

  “And where is that on the map?” Atock asked.

  Gilga returned from his place near the door and leaned over the table. He traced his finger about halfway between Victory Lake and Alandell Lake. “Right here,” he said.

  Atock and the others leaned over the map, studying the area that Gilga had indicated. This section of the river was a bit more indistinct – the boundaries being less defined. This area was titled The Narrows.

  “Are there any towns or villages near this?” Atock asked.

  Baron Wharton shook his head. “No. It’s in the middle of the wilderness.”

  A sudden idea occurred to Atock and he glanced up at Gilga. “How many islets are through here?”

  Gilga shrugged. “Hard to say. Some of those islands are always there, but others come and go. And with the water level being so low, there’s probably more sandbars and such exposed.”

  “So would it be possible to build a bridge from island to island, sandbar to sandbar?” Atock asked.

  Gilga looked confused. “A bridge? I don’t know about that. I mean it is the widest part of the river.”

  “Yes, but you said it was also the shallowest and there were many natural sandbars and islets there,” Atock replied.

  “Do you really think they would build a bridge?” Lord Steel asked.

  Atock shrugged. “The idea just occurred to me. This area,” he pointed to the map where the Narrows was labeled, “is in the middle of the forests. So there would be no one to see the bridge building. It would seem they could build multiple bridges, from island to island making use of the sandbars.”

  “What about the river ships?” Lord Wharton asked. “Surely they would see the bridges.”

  Atock glanced toward Gilga. “Do the ships travel this area all the time?”

  “Most of the time. Some ships avoid the Narrows when the water level is this low, but there still should be some ships traveling through there,” Gilga said.

  “Are you expecting any ships that are late?” Enton asked. “I mean would you know if any ships have been delayed?”

  “What are you thinking?” Lord Steel asked.

  Enton glanced back to the map. “It’s just that if they were building a bridge through there, they would have to stop any ships from coming through. Any ship that sailed past them would undoubtedly raise the alarm.”

  Baron Wharton considered for a moment. “Well, those ships aren’t exactly on schedules. In fact, most of them probably carry contraband.” At these words, Gilga looked a tad uncomfortable. “I really don’t think there’s any way to know if any ships have been delayed,” the Baron continued.

  Atock tapped his finger on the Narrows section of the map. “Lord Steel, we need to visit this area. How many men can you send with me?”
/>   Lord Steel did not immediately answer. He studied Atock, measuring him with his eyes. Finally, he said, “Do you really think they would build a bridge?”

  “I’m not sure, but it’s the only thing we’ve been able to come up with,” Atock said.

  Lord Steel was silent for several more moments, and then turned to look at Baron Wharton. “Henry, how many men can you spare?”

  “Truly? I have no men to spare,” Baron Wharton replied. “We are already following the king’s commands. Most of the knights that are still here, are supposed to escort the women and children starting tomorrow. The rest of my men are already making sure the crops are harvested.”

  Lord Steel sighed and then turned back to Atock. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any men to send with you.”

  Atock glanced to Enton, who only raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Lord Steel, will you permit Enton and myself to travel to the Narrows?”

  “As you wish,” Lord Steel said. “But I hope that you’re wrong about this.”

  Atock nodded. “So am I.” He turned to look at Gilga, who still stood looking at the map. “Gilga, would you show us the way?”

  The question startled Gilga out of his silent study of the map. He jerked and glanced up, looking first at Atock in surprise, and then to Baron Wharton. Strangely, he did not immediately answer, but continued to watch Baron Wharton.

  Baron Wharton sighed. “The king gives me impossible orders about the harvest, and you wish to take one of my workers away?”

  “I do,” Atock said, “ and I think it just might be important.”

  Baron Wharton shook his head. After a moment he added, “As you wish. One more set of hands will not make that much of a difference.”

  Chapter 11

  Derek lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. It was hard to tell time without being able to see the sun rise and set, but he suspected they had been held prisoner for slightly more than a week. His best guess was eight days. He based his guess on the frequency of their meals. The type of meals alternated between a soupy gruel, which he thought was breakfast, and a hunk of meat and a piece of bread, which he took to be dinner.