by Ryan Peter
Across scores of lush fields, farmlands, valleys and villages, and ruins of ages gone by, lied the Ancient Gardens – a caliginous, dense woodland. No one dared enter it. Its web stretched out from north of the most eastern leg of the Southern River, with its dark trees bursting on the banks, and further northwards towards the Colone desert. Some said that the Ancient Gardens used to stretch across the entire desert, in an age long forgotten, long before Genicoins and men, existing even since time itself began.
On its western side was a rocky and dangerous valley, crossed over by the Colone road, which led from this point through the Colone Desert and to the Twin Cities. This was a perilous road and seldom travelled.
Further west was Stoorein, the capital of Foré. It too was an ancient city, located within a jagged and narrow crooked valley, and an important city in the war with the Moncoin. The bottom of the valley was for the common people, but higher up the wealthier nobles built their residences, culminating in the King's castle on the eastern highest end, built into the black rock and facing west. From here the King could view the entire city and observe his borders from his dark stoned tower, built above the valley ridge. Because the city was built into the stony valley it was easy to defend, making it almost impossible to assault successfully.
The brigade from Dernium had arrived at Stoorein on their quest to the Twin Cities. Here they needed to meet the king and get permission to travel through Foré, avoiding most of the desert. It was late morning. Three men of the Dernium army were walking down a long dark stone corridor on their way to meet the King. To their right was the black rock of the valley walls that the castle was cut into, and the left opened up widely to reveal a steep edge and the city below; the people and houses of the city hidden amongst thick foliage and soaring trees. A thick mist hung over the valley this morning.
A deep rumble welled in the stones of the corridor as they neared the throne room. There was a waterfall near the northern end of the castle, which found its source from the Stoorein River on top of the ridge and crashed down into the valley. They were led into a dark passage of stairs leading directly to the throne room. The entrance was protected by two simple but heavy wooden doors, which were heaved open.
At the motioning of the guards they entered. It was a small, round room, one half of its circle jutting out from the side of the valley walls, dispersed with windows. The king was eating breakfast alone with a servant close by, looking at his feet.
Behind King Walise was a much larger window which opened northwards and revealed the side of the waterfall. It was a magnificent sight, the room dwarfed by its mighty power. The air felt fresh and cool and smelled earthy. The ground rumbled and the sound of the rushing waters had a sweet, soothing effect. But there was a tension in the air. The king wore a snarl and seemed to be in a rush to finish his breakfast. He watched them closely and wiped his greasy mouth with the back of his hand. His double chin wobbled and pieces of food landed in his thick, gray beard.
They were announced by the guard of rank, bowing low. “My wise and great king of Foré: Sir Cadell Cai, Knight and Lord of Dernium.”
Cadell, the captain of the Dernium army, bowed low, exposing his tanned shaved head and distinctly large ears. His silver armour clattered. He looked up. His brown eyes, augmented by thick brown eyebrows, stared directly at the King.
“My Lord, King Walise.”
“And these?” the King remarked, pointing at the other two men. He stuffed some meat into his mouth and glared at them.
“Our lords and knights from Dernium; my seconds in command,” announced Cadell.
“Two seconds in command?”
“Yes, that is how we structure our armies of Knights.”
“Now you seek to educate me? Three hundred knights to dispel the war between the Twins? That is it?”
“Three hundred and five, to be exact,” said Cadell. “Forty Knights my Lord. The rest are of the best of our Army, Looin warriors.”
“Looin warriors and Knights,” replied the King. “So then, do these two have names?”
“Yes,” answered Cadell. The other two with him bowed.
“Garth Vero, Knight and Lord of Dernium, at your service,” said the first of them – very tall, with a shaved head. Knights of Dernium always shaved their heads. He drew out his rapier and laid it before the King, his sharp blue eyes looking forward. There was an air of confidence about him, an air of success. But the king just lifted a broad silver eyebrow and chewed.
Sensing the moment, the third introduced himself. “Gerald Rhionan,” he said. He also laid out his rapier on the floor, bowing low. “Knight of Dernium.”
“Not a Lord,” said the King. “After this campaign, if you survive, then probably one. That is why you came, is it not?”
Gerald looked up at him, brave brown eyes meeting the king's under unusually thin eyebrows. A dirty beard, but cleanly shaved head.
“Quite young, I see,” said the king. “You needn’t answer me. I do not wish to speak to you anyway.”
He drained his chalice and slammed it on the table, tapping it impatiently. His servant hurried over and refilled it with wine.
“Yes, well, I wanted you to know that I am grateful – grateful! That Dernium, that great and mighty country of our southern lands, saw it fit to send their troops — and knights, of course, to protect us against whatever is going on in the north.”
“We appreciate your support of our army,” said Cadell, “and of the nation of Dernium, great king. We thank you for your blessing on our passage through your beautiful Kingdom.”
“Ha!” said the king. “Such arrogance. Schooled by the courts of Chronalia itself — the Jewel of Lexedore, as it so affectionately calls itself. The Jewel! Its grip, its hold! It's elegant beauty! Yet inside, inside, corruption and filth! No you will take the Colone road.”
“My Lord! With our horses and supplies, I--”
“Expediency!” interrupted the King. “The other roads will take more weeks, maybe months, compared to the Colone road. By that time, Ben-Kiêrre has won and we are next! That road travels straightly north; straight to the Meadow.”
“This is true my Lord, but your roads are better and, in fact, swifter. At what cost--”
“Knights and Looin warriors can certainly manage it,” said the King. “You know that granting you to use any other road will bring... complications. Yes, you know this very well. I will not have Dernium spying out my lands.”
“My Lord, you have the word of our Courts that--”
“Silence! I also had it at their word that they would send three thousand of you to quell this war and be done with it! My decision is final, you will take the Colone road!”
Cadell was incredulous. He bowed low. “Thank you, my lord. We are at your service. Would that be all?”
“I am not your lord,” said the King. “And if you wish to serve me, go back to your courts and instruct them to send a proper army - or none at all!”
He motioned to his guards who ushered them out quickly, back through the corridor and down the nearest stairs. They came out into an empty dark stone courtyard. It overlooked a large part of the city.
Cadell cussed once they were out of earshot. “Confound that drunk king! The Colone road! Dangerous and foolish. I must arrange for the details of our meeting to be sent to the Jewel at once.”
Gerald simply sat on the wall, looking at the city below. Garth sat beside him. Below, in the city, carriages and horses and people were bustling about. Gerald thought of Chronalia and realised that Stoorein was a very different city - it seemed empty and lonely here, with a darkness in the air almost as black as the stone of the valley. Here, most of the people were farmers, living in the farmlands, not in the cities. There were no other cities in Foré, only villages.
The farms reminded him of his own days as a child when his father taught him how to work with leather. He always missed those days and his parents. His mother died of a sickness when he was a teenager and his father died in a t
errible fire at the farm only a few months later. That was when Gerald joined the army and began to work his way through the ranks. His fighting skills caught the attention of a rich noble, who adopted him and paid for his further training. So he was to be a lord.
Garth chuckled. “Glad that’s over. A top class performance!”
Gerald laughed. “Indeed, it was.”
“I suspect it isn't easy ruling these lands,” said Garth. “There’s much history here and also much expectation to live up to it. Stoorein still stands as a great fortress against the many evils that come against us all. But the people are dispersed and the lands are large. Power is what men want. There seems to be a great deal of rebellion here.”
Gerald wondered about the distant past and how Stoorein must have been ransacked endlessly during the great war with the Moncoin. For the Hircoi desired to have the city as a fortress, giving them a strong foothold in the south and clearing an easy way to enter into Chronalia to the south-west from Stoorein. Although it was some distance, the roads were easy from Stoorein towards Chronalia; and the Southern River was also close by, leading straight towards Chronalia and straight to the Monument.
“Yes, when barbarians have come to invade our lands, Foré has had the worst of them,” Gerald said. Many times the barbarian’s settled in Foré because it was such a large country and had very little in terms of a government.
“What know you of our road?” Garth said.
“No more than you, I suspect,” Gerald said.
“It shall be a hard road. I have heard it said that if a man should venture off the Colone road in the darkness of the night they shall become forever lost. Many souls, they say, wander that desert, still looking for the road, but never able to find it. But the men are valiant. And so are you, Gerald. So are you. You shall be a lord yet.”
Gerald sighed and looked away. “Lords are too political, and I feel there are better ways to do good for the people.”
“Not all lords,” said Garth. “My father used to say that it is the heart of a man that matters, not what others say.” He let that sink in. “I go now to inform the men.”
After two days of preparation the Dernium army finally set out on their dangerous journey on the Colone road. The roads from Stoorein winded through the valley and forked into two directions by mid-afternoon on the third day. They took the eastern fork, which led them through more ragged valleys until it finally began to flatten. The lushness of the grass and flowers began to wither as the road took them further towards the desert, the smell of these disappearing until all that was left was the smell of dust.
Evening soon approached. Cadell decided they would travel throughout the night and rest in the day day. Although they were already quite weary from the difficult road from Foré they pressed on well into the night.
CHAPTER SIX