A Gathering of Armies

by Christopher Williams

  The innkeeper was an elderly lady named Priscilla. Her hair was stark white and the woman had to be in her eighties. She was short and pudgy, but extremely friendly. She seemed a bit surprised when Heather asked for two rooms. Even though Priscilla was the owner of the inn, Heather got the feeling that she did very little of the actual work involved in running the business. Upon their arrival, Priscilla shouted for Ablum, one of her grandsons, to take Heather and Warren’s packs to their rooms, and then she shouted for Orton, another grandson, to see to their horses. Judging by how fast the young men jumped to her bidding, Heather guessed that Priscilla wouldn’t put up with any foolishness.

  The inn was clean and there was a noisy common room on past Priscilla’s desk. A set of stairs to the right led up to the rooms on the second floor.

  Warren made to follow Ablum up the stairs to their room, but he paused when Priscilla called out.

  “The cook made a wonderful beef stew with vegetables and potatoes.” She waved her hand in the direction of the common room. “You won’t find any better food and drink at a better price.”

  Heather glanced to Warren. “Do as you wish, but I’m going to see about that stew.”

  Warren hesitated. He seemed torn between wanting to fall asleep and wanting to fall asleep with a full stomach. Finally, he nodded. “Well, I guess dinner won’t take long.”

  Entering the common room, it resembled so many others that Heather had seen. Thirty or so tables were packed in the middle of the floor, close enough where it appeared difficult to not be constantly bumping your neighbor’s elbows. A small stage sat off to the left, and two young men were playing some instruments and singing. It was hard to hear them, but what she did hear didn’t sound too bad. Four harried barmaids scrambled around and through the crowded tables, carrying plates of food and mugs of ale. Judging by the way the women kept twitching, the men were enjoying pinching their bottoms as they made their way through.

  There was an open table in the middle of the room, but Heather didn’t like the idea of being surrounded by the rough-looking men, so she and Warren loitered near the entrance for a while. Warren was less than pleased about the situation, and Heather thought he wouldn’t wait for long. Luck was on their side though, as a table in the back on the edge of the room opened up and they grabbed it. It was immensely pleasing to have a seat with her back to the wall and not be too cramped.

  After waiting by the entryway, they found themselves having to wait again as the barmaids seemed overwhelmed. Shortly, though, a young and very plump woman hurried over to them. She seemed out of breath and tired.

  “I’m so sorry about the wait. What would you like?”

  They both ordered the stew, bread, and wine. The barmaid seemed a bit surprised about the wine, it seemed this rough crowd much preferred the ale, but she smiled and hurried away.

  Their wine was brought out quickly, and the stew followed a few minutes later. Priscilla hadn’t lied about it being good, or perhaps it had just been too long since they had any real food, but either way, the stew was delicious.

  Warren finished first, practically licking the bowl clean.

  “Want seconds?” Heather asked him with a grin.

  He returned the grin but declined another bowl of stew. Already his eyelids were looking heavy and he leaned back in his chair, apparently intending to wait until Heather was done.

  “Go on to bed,” Heather said, resisting the urge to laugh at his chivalry. “I’ll be fine.”

  Warren looked around at the rough group of men. “You sure?”

  Heather nodded. “First of all, I can take of myself, and secondly,” she pointed to the opposite corner, where a handful of city guards were drinking. “I don’t think anything will happen to me.”

  Warren shrugged and climbed wearily to his feet. “As you say.”

  Heather finished her stew and then ordered a second glass of wine.

  The two glasses of wine gave a warm, relaxed feeling and she leaned back in her chair and tried to listen to the musicians. It was difficult to hear, and she only managed to catch snatches of the song.

  “Good, aren’t they?”

  Heather turned and looked to the next table. An elderly man sat there, smiling at her. His clothes were old and patched; not dirty, just worn. Judging by his gnarly-looking hands, she guessed him to be a farmer.

  “Excuse me?”

  He pointed to the stage. “The singers. They’re good aren’t they?”

  Heather nodded. “Yes.”

  The old man held a hand out. “My name’s Klant.” He motioned toward the singers. “They’re my grandsons.”

  Heather smiled, pleased to finally understand why the old man was speaking to her. “You must be very proud,” she said.

  Klant nodded. “They’re not bad, maybe they can earn a living at it. He held up his misshapen hands. “I don’t want them to have to work this hard.”

  Heather nodded. Every parent and grandparent’s dream was that their kids would do better than they had. She wondered what type of future these kids would have. Thinking of the future made her think of Zalustus and the coming battle. She leaned close to Klant and said, “Are you from these parts?”

  Klant nodded. “I’ve lived here my whole life. I live in the same house where my grandfather was born.”

  Heather chose to ignore that last comment; it didn’t seem like something to brag about to her. “Tell me Klant, who’s the highest-ranking Nateshian noble across the river in Marsh Landing?”

  Klant looked confused for a moment, then his smile broadened. “They don’t get much higher than the king.”

  “The king?” Heather repeated, surprised. “King Almarin is in Marsh Landing?”

  Klant nodded. “King Travis of Molian is there as well.”

  “What?” Heather asked. She only knew a little of the relations between these two countries, but she had been led to believe that they hated each other.

  Klant nodded again. “Got both their armies with them too.” His pleasant mood evaporated and he leaned closer. “Many here think they plan to cross the Mellis river and attack Telur.”

  Heather swallowed hard. She’d felt this mission would be fairly easy. All she had to do was deliver the two messages to Marsh Landing and get a messenger to take the messages on to the two kings. Worse case, she had expected the two nations to ignore the request for help, but she hadn’t thought they might actually invade Telur’s eastern lands. That would be disastrous. First of all, all of Telur’s defenders were traveling to the capital city for the battle with the goblins. Secondly, instead of helping Telur fight back the goblins, the two kings might actually be helping Zalustus. That last thought sent a shiver down her back. If Natesh and Molain came into the battle fighting against Telur, then it was already over. She didn’t see any way that Telur could overcome such large numbers of enemies.

  “Scary, isn’t it?” Klant said. He was watching her, his eyes studying every emotion as it played across her face.

  “Yes, it is,” Heather said. She stood to her feet and immediately the plump barmaid was by their table.

  “Anything else?”

  Heather blinked at her, suddenly remembering they hadn’t paid. Undoubtedly, the barmaid thought that Warren and Heather were trying to get away without paying. “No. What do we owe you?” she asked.

  The barmaid leaned close as the crowd began clapping for the musicians. “Two bronze.”

  Heather gave the poor girl three and headed to their rooms.

  Heather awoke the next morning, still tired and restless. The thought of the two armies just across the river had prevented her from sleeping well. She’d tossed and turned the entire night through.

  She climbed from the bed and stumbled to the small window. Her room faced to the east and she pulled the curtain aside and squinted out into the early-morning sun. She wasn’t sure what she had hoped for, perhaps a glimpse of row upon row of tents on the far side of the river. It was foolishness though, she couldn’t eve
n see the river from here, much less the far bank.

  Letting the curtain fall back into place, Heather rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched. She would love to stay here another day and spent the entire day soaking in a hot tub, but that was out of the question. Sighing, she began shoving her things back into her pack.

  Moments later, Heather stepped into the hall and crossed to Warren’s room. She knocked softly twice, afraid of waking the other guests of the inn, although she suspected that few of them would be sleeping in.

  After a moment, Warren pulled the door open, grinning out at her. He looked like a completely different man. His eyes were alert and he looked reinvigorated. He seemed to sense her unease and the smile slipped away. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  Heather didn’t like discussing it in the hall and motioned him back. He stepped aside, allowing Heather entry into his room. His room was like hers, small and cramped. A small bed, a small table with a tiny pitcher of water, and a single chair completed the room’s furnishings.

  “I heard something interesting in the common room last night.”

  “What’s that?” Warren asked.

  “It seems that King Almarin and King Travis are right across the river and they have their armies with them.”

  Warren blinked several times as he worked his way through this new information, then he brightened. “Perhaps they are already on their way to assist Telur.”

  Heather shook her head. “I doubt it. They hate us and I doubt they’ll help us, even if we ask them. They certainly won’t come to our aid without us even asking.”

  “Then what?” Warren asked.

  “The man I spoke to last night seems to think they might be invading Telur’s eastern lands.”

  Warren took a deep breath as those thoughts settled in. “Do you think they might be working with Zalustus?” he asked.

  Heather shrugged. “I hope not. I’m not sure how we can defeat Zalustus alone. If you add these two kings against us, then I think we’re done for.”

  They ate a hurried breakfast in the common room, marveling at how different it was from last night. Most of the merchants and wagoneers left the inn before the sun was even up, so the inn felt deserted. It was quiet also, which was completely different than the night before. There were only two serving girls today, but only four tables were occupied, so actually the service was better.

  After eating, they paid and thanked Priscilla on the way out of the inn, arranging for their horses to remain boarded until they returned.

  They turned to the east and wandered through the city. Luckily the city was built with the river traffic in mind, so it was fairly easy to find their way to the river banks. It was an impressive sight. All along the river bank, enormous wooden piers stretched out into the river. The piers ran north and south along the bank, allowing an enormous number of ships to tie up. River-going ships were concentrated on either end, north and south, while the ferries that transported cargo and caravans over to Marsh Landing were concentrated in the middle piers.

  Finding a ferry to transport them to Marsh Landing was easy, although the price of two silvers seemed a bit extravagant to Heather. But in truth it was the King’s money and not hers.

  The ferry was a long flat boat that was lined with young men sitting on benches to man the oars. The middle of the ferry had seven heavily-loaded wagons and their accompanying horses and guards. The guards watched Heather and Warren closely, but as Heather and Warren avoided the wagons, there weren’t any issues.

  Heather and Warren were the last passengers to board and the captain ordered the oarsmen to begin rowing. The men rowed the whole time, but still the trip took several hours.

  As they neared the western bank of the Mellis river, Heather watched Marsh Landing come into view.

  Like Goldwater, Marsh Landing was a large spread-out town; its primary purpose was trade. Unlike Goldwater, Marsh Landing appeared deserted. There were a few caravans disembarking at the piers, but there didn’t seem to be any caravans lining up for the journey to Goldwater.

  Heather walked to the back of the ferry, with Warren following. She moved over to where the captain was guiding the ship. “Is it always like this? Seems like there should be more people over here.”

  The captain nodded. “The armies on the far side of the city are scaring people away. It’s bad for business.” His tone seemed to suggest that the armies were insignificant, but the damage it was doing to his business was unforgiveable.

  “Any idea where those armies are going?” Heather asked.

  The captain only shrugged and didn’t answer. His dropping of the eyes said he suspected he knew where they were going, but he simply didn’t want to say so.

  They disembarked on piers that mirrored those on the western side of the river. Numerous city officials wandered up and down the piers looking for any merchant that was trying to avoid paying their taxes. As they had no cargo, Warren and Heather didn’t have to pay any taxes, but Heather still headed straight for one of the officials.

  “Excuse me,” she said, nearing the man.

  The official carried a thick piece of parchment, and a quill. He looked up and examined her as she approached. “Yes, what can I do for you?” he asked.

  “I need to see King Almarin. Can you tell me where to find him?”

  The man looked up and down and then snorted. “And why do you need to see the king. I doubt he has time for the likes of you.”

  In answer Heather pulled the letter she carried from King Darion, the wax seal clearly obvious. “I am a member of the Guardians, and I have been sent with a message to your king.”

  Chapter 23

  There were many varied possibilities that Heather could envision as their reception. Still, she wasn’t prepared for the greeting the Nateshian authorities gave them. The customs official led them to a small building where the city guard were stationed. The city guard promptly put Warren and Heather under arrest.

  Arrest hadn’t been an option that Heather had really given much thought. If the two kings were against them, she expected them to send her on her way. There were longstanding rules on how emissaries were supposed to be dealt with and arrest wasn’t allowed.

  The arrest was so unexpected, and it happened so fast, that before they knew what had happened, they were disarmed and surrounded by soldiers.

  Heather glanced to Warren, who appeared to be sizing up the guards. Once, she would have assumed he would cooperate due to the guard’s overwhelming numbers, but that wasn’t the case anymore. She had seen him do some fairly strange things and she was completely unsure what he might be capable of. “Warren, do as they say. I’m sure the king will fix this.”

  The guard captain snorted and looked in Warren’s direction. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, but I recommend you listen to the lady. If you resist us we will use whatever force is necessary.”

  Warren ignored the guard captain, his eyes meeting Heather’s.

  Heather relaxed, sensing that Warren would comply, at least for now.

  The guards led them back out into the street and then they marched east. The few townspeople still in the city hurried to get out of their way. They marched due east, straight through the center of the city until they reached the city gates.

  As with the rest of the city, the gates had a feeling of being deserted. Guards were stationed on either side, but with so few travelers, there wasn’t much for them to do. The guards stood a little straighter as Heather’s group marched through. It seemed the captain that was escorting them was a person of influence.

  They exited the city proper and for the first time Heather was able to see the plains that stretched away into the distance, actually, it was more correct to say that she could see the soldiers that covered the plains. There were two main groups; to the south were the soldiers of Molain and to the north were those from Natesh. Both groups were recognizable by their colors and banners.

  Heather’s spirits sunk at the sight of so many warri
ors. If they were against Telur, then it would take Adel himself to turn the tide of battle.

  Their escorts led them farther east, to a series of buildings that separated the two groups. The buildings were normally used for the enormous cattle auctions that regularly took place here, but they had temporarily been taken over by the armies. The buildings, although a permanent part of the trade activities of Marsh Landing, had the feeling of a makeshift war headquarters.

  Heather and Warren were led into one building in the center of the buildings. It was normally used to house animals and was broken up into numerous stalls. Heather was locked into one such stall while Warren was placed into the one across the hall. Guards were placed outside the stall doors.

  Heather spent the first few moments of her imprisonment searching for any way out of the stall – it proved fruitless. The walls were made of planks of a hard wood, made to resist the hoofs of cattle. The ceiling was also made of planks and, while Heather might be able to force her way through, it wouldn’t be done quietly and she seriously doubted that the guards would remain outside the stall while she broke her way through. That meant the only way in or out was through the door, which was guarded by a hallway full of soldiers. She didn’t like her chances of sneaking out or surprising them.

  Sighing, Heather found herself a clean place of ground and sat down. Needless to say, this was not the way she had envisioned this mission going. Hope was not gone, but it was slipping away fast.

  A dark and worrisome thought occurred to her then, as they always do when things looked bleak. What if they turn me over to Zalustus? If the kings were working with, or for, Zalustus, then they might try to curry favor by turning her over. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. She’d heard what Zalustus’s father had threatened to do to Trestus, Kara, and the others. Torture was not uncommon, but it was not the way she’d ever thought she would die.

  It was nearing mid-day when they were locked into the stalls and the door wasn’t opened until dusk – no food, no water. Mid-day to dusk isn’t an unbearably long time, but nevertheless, Heather’s throat was parched by the time the door opened.