Rise of Dachwald (Boxed Set, Books 1 through 2)

by Lawlis, Daniel

  As the companies spread out across the vast southern countryside of Dachwald, they were appalled by what they saw. Destroyed crops everywhere, looking like the aftermath of a surprise visit from a hundred thousand locusts, even though no one had seen any large swarms of insects. Women crying. Children too, but mostly because Mommy was upset. If they had the understanding Mommy had about the situation, their tears would have been all the more bitter. Men trying to salvage what precious little remained of their crops, mostly to no avail. They weren’t crying. But their faces showed the situation was taking its toll.

  Don’t worry. We’ll avenge you, General Sivingdon thought.

  Some people cheered when they saw the Vechengschaft come marching through. Most of the southern Dachwaldians had never seen the Vechengschaft. They’d read stories, of course, but never seen them in person.

  “LONG LIVE THE VECHENGSCHAFT!!” the hapless farmers cheered as the heavily armored soldiers plodded along by them. They had very little hope left, but they were pinning what little remained onto these armor-clad supermen.

  “Get the BASTARDS!!” an old woman yelled out. “They’ve ruined everything; I don’t know what I’m going to eat!”

  One of the Vechengschaft halberdiers turned, faced the woman. “Don’t worry, ma’am, we will. We damn sure will.”

  Sivingdon simply couldn’t believe the devastation. Never in his life had he seen destruction on such a scale. He was traveling with Company B, going south-southwest. He expected any minute to come across an enemy force and was strongly looking forward to spilling blood and releasing the full fury of his anger onto this enemy, who he was now becoming more and more certain had to be the Sodorfians. The damn Sodorfians.

  (please let it be the Sodorfians, please!)

  No enemy sightings.

  However, reports did begin to trickle in about supposed tracks that had been found leading from some of the farms and heading south into Sodorf. When these reports reached Sivingdon, his already burning temper began to reach its boiling point.

  “How far did you follow these tracks, and how many men does it appear we might be dealing with?”

  “Sir,” replied Efenktor, the head tracker, “all of the trackers I’ve spoken with report they followed these tracks to the very border between Sodorf and Dachwald. Our laws forbid us from entering Sodorf, but I’m sure if I were allowed to cross the border I could most certainly trace these tracks to their source and lead our forces to them. Based upon the tracks, it looks like this vandalism was the work of hundreds, if not thousands, of people. This is an act of war.

  “However, for us to cross Sodorf, not only would you have to authorize it, but King Duchenwald and at least one-half of the senate would also have to approve. It’ll take several days for a messenger to ride back to Castle Dachwald with a message from you requesting to cross the Sodorfian border . . . that is, assuming you do want the trackers to cross. Once your message gets to Castle Dachwald, it would take a while before they approve such a measure . . . if they approve it at all. And then, of course, the message will have to be brought back to us by horseback. This could all take a week or more. If it rains between then and now, all hope of tracing these tracks back to their source will be lost.”

  Sivingdon thought these words over carefully. He knew asking the senate and King Duchenwald to permit his troops to cross the Sodorfian-Dachwaldian border would be tantamount to asking for a declaration of war.

  “Efenktor, find your swiftest messenger. I want him to go to Castle Dachwald as swiftly as possible and ask not only for permission to cross the border, but to also engage any enemy combatants we come across.”

  Efenktor’s face turned slightly pale.

  “General, this probably won’t sit well with the senate. We haven’t been at war in 830 years; the feeling amongst the senate is very pacifistic; they’ll nev—”

  “Do as your told!” Sivingdon responded gruffly. He didn’t need to be reminded of just how lousy the senate was when it came to getting anything accomplished. He knew. He knew all too damn well.

  “I’m all too aware of their pacifistic sentiments. They make me sick! But we must try to get their approval!”

  And having said that, he dismounted and removed a piece of paper from his saddlebag. He began writing the message, and once completed he put his seal on it.

  “Go now. I want you to deliver this personally to King Duchenwald. You’re one of the fastest messengers I have, and not only that—you’ve seen with your own two eyes the damage and the tracks leading from the southern farms into Sodorf. Be sure to mention to them that all the way from the far eastern borders to the far western borders there are tracks heading southward into Sodorf.”

  “Yes, sir,” Efenktor responded without argument. General Sivingdon had a reputation for going beyond words if forced to give a second reprimand.

  Efenktor took the sealed message and got on a large black horse. He dug his spurs into its sides and took off at a full gallop towards Castle Dachwald.

  Chapter 16

  King Duchenwald stepped out of the bath. A nice, hot steamy bath. He grabbed a luxurious purple towel, dried himself, and slipped into a long comfortable robe made out of bear fur and decorated with gold.

  (now seems like as good a time as any for a massage)

  He walked out of the bathroom and down a long hall. The walls were made of smooth, solid stone and reflected the light pouring in from the afternoon sun. Elegant pieces of weaponry and armor adorned them. Golden statuettes and other luxurious treasures decorating them lent them a majestic appearance. At the end of the hallway was a rope attached to a bell. He pulled it a few times, and some servant girls immediately came running.

  “Your Highness” they said, kneeling.

  “A massage.”

  “Yes, Your Highness—as you wish, Your Highness,” they said.

  He lay down on the massage table. Warm oil was poured onto his back, and the massage was soon underway. Even though it was a daily enjoyment he pampered himself with, it still felt so good he thought he had died and gone to Cixore. Just when he was beginning to feel so relaxed he was about to fall asleep, he heard a loud knocking at the door. One of the servant girls went and answered it. She turned and came back to King Duchenwald.

  “Your Highness, one of the servants says there’s a messenger here; he says it’s very, very urgent.”

  “Ahh, for Kasani’s sake, can’t it wait?!” King Duchenwald responded gruffly. The servant girl went to the door, exchanged some words with the servant and then returned.

  “Your Highness,” she said, “he says it’s very, very urgent; he says that it has to do with General Sivingdon. He says General Sivingdon has a very urgent request and it demands your immediate attention.”

  “General Sivingdon?! Well, why didn’t you say so? Okay, girls, massage time is up; I need to see what all the commotion is about.”

  As he got up slowly from the massage table, his servant girls exited the room. It was a large, spacious room. Smooth marble walls, floor and ceiling, all painted a light sea blue. An ample view of the Dachwaldian countryside could be seen from the large window. King Duchenwald adjusted his robe and said, “Come, servant, I haven’t got all day!”

  The servant entered the room.

  “Your Highness,” he said, “there’s a man at the front gate of the palace named Efenktor; he says he’s one of Sivingdon’s top trackers.”

  “Yes, yes, indeed; that’s true.”

  “Well, he has a message from General Sivingdon himself, but he says he’s under strict orders to deliver it to you personally. He wouldn’t hand it to me.”

  “Well, I suppose I’ll have to go down and see him then. No doubt, this has to do with that crop damage all those farmers were raising hell about recently. Tell’em I’ll be down there shortly.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” the servant said and exited the room.

  King Duchenwald was curious. He was hoping it would turn out to all be a big lie. Surel
y these farmers had to be exaggerating about their losses.

  It took him a while to squeeze his oceans of fat into his kingly robe. After finally managing to wrap it around his portly body, he walked towards the door to his room, down the hall, and then began descending the large, mammoth-sized staircase that went down to the main floor. His bedroom was on the eighth story of the castle, so he had a long way to travel going down the staircase. The walls held torches about three feet long, a system of small passages within the castle walls pumping a continuous supply of slow-burning oil to keep them burning. It took him about twenty minutes to get down to the bottom of the stairs, and by the time he did he was huffing and puffing like a man who had just run two miles at breakneck speed. He had often considered moving his room to a lower level to avoid such odious exercise, but he couldn’t fathom the thought of anyone sleeping above him. Three guards accompanied him. Two spearmen and a man holding a large battle hammer who was larger than life and twice as ugly. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he saw Efenktor waiting for him. As Efenktor saw the king, he put one knee on the ground and bowed.

  “Your Majesty,” he said.

  “You may rise.”

  “Your Majesty, I bring urgent news . . . and a request.”

  “Speak, Efenktor,” King Duchenwald said in a mildly pleasant tone.

  “Your Highness, the first piece of news I have for you is shocking, but I have seen it with my own eyes, so I swear to its legitimacy . . . .”

  “Speak your mind!” King Duchenwald said in a very impatient tone.

  “Your Highness, to put it both bluntly and succinctly, the tracks from the farms lead towards Sodorf. More specifically, they lead into Sodorf. I’m sure of this, and so is General Sivingdon. He’s requesting permission to cross the border and engage whatever enemy he comes across. This more than likely means war with Sodorf.”

  King Duchenwald’s heart nearly stopped. The words knocked him backwards like a solid punch to the chest. He would have fallen and cracked his skull had it not been for his muscular bodyguards that caught him. He felt dizzy. Like he was having a nightmare.

  “HAS GENERAL SIVINGDON CROSSED THAT BORDER?!!!!” King Duchenwald screamed at Efenktor. It sounded more like an accusation than an inquiry. His face was red with a potent combination of rage, panic, and fear. Although Efenktor fully expected the king to not be happy with the request, his sheer ferocity overwhelmed him. Even the guards were stunned.

  “Of course not! No, Your Highness; he wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing without your permission! That’s why he sent me, instead of just an ordinary messenger. He knew the enormity of the request would take you off guard; that is why—”

  “Give me that message!” growled King Duchenwald.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Efenktor said and quickly handed it to him.

  King Duchenwald’s eyes devoured the message like a starving animal consuming its prey. His blue eyes darted back and forth across the words of the message, sometimes growing wide and large, other times narrowing suspiciously. Sure enough, it said what Efenktor averred and bore General Sivingdon’s unmistakable seal.

  “Efenktor, I’m going to have to call an emergency senate meeting. This isn’t a decision I can make off the cuff, even if a substantial proportion of our food supply for the next year has indeed been ruined. Ride back to General Sivingdon and tell him I’m having an emergency consultation with the senate to resolve this matter. Your expert tracking skills are needed by him. I’ll send a messenger to give General Sivingdon my response as soon as the senate and I have deliberated this important matter.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Efenktor said. He stood up, turned, walked through the door, got back on his horse, and began galloping madly back towards General Sivingdon.

  King Duchenwald could not have been more taken aback. The last thing that had crossed his mind when he had heard about this alleged act of mass vandalism was war. Would the Sodorfians dare launch such a brazen attack as this?

  (What could their motive possibly be?)

  This baffled him the most. All the spy reports he had received from Sodorf had confirmed Sodorf was basically in the same state of affairs as Dachwald: peaceful, spending little on the military. Furthermore, all reports had stated most people in Sodorf were living comfortably. Their crops were doing well; people had plenty to eat; the government was corrupt and lazy, but not overly oppressive towards its subjects.

  (perhaps it was a group of troublesome Sodorfians not acting in accord with the Sodorfian government)

  This was plausible.

  There was a system in place for an emergency summoning of the senate. Inside the castle was a large rope that went over a pulley hanging about ten feet in the air and into a hole in the floor from where it passed through an underground tunnel, equipped with pulleys about every fifty feet to make pulling the rope easier as it went around turns. Underground, the rope was attached to a large ring with holes drilled through it and ropes attached to it that went off in different directions through the different passageways, splitting off and going to a large bell in each senator’s house. The rope was relatively easy to pull, and a tug on it nearly simultaneously rang the bells in the senators’ homes.

  King Duchenwald grabbed the rope and pulled down hard. The ringing reverberated with a nearly ear-splitting volume. A few of the senators were in the midst of eating lavish meals, and the cacophonous sound of the bell caused a couple of them to soil their clothes with food that they spilled all over themselves. Some were in the midst of a nice, relaxing nap, and the sound of the bell woke one of them up so suddenly he fell out of bed and nearly incurred a concussion when he introduced his head to the floor. One bell caught a senator in the act of trying to seduce his maid, and the cursing that resulted would make a longshoreman blush.

  Within thirty minutes all twenty of the senators had arrived, bowing to King Duchenwald as they walked in. One look at his face told them there was serious business to discuss.

  “Senators, into the meeting hall,” he said.

  They walked around the large staircase, descended a short flight of stairs, walked down a long hallway, turned right, and then went through the second door on their left. This led into a large open room. King Duchenwald sat on a throne, and ten senators sat on either side of him in rows of two.

  “Senators,” he began, “I’ll get right to the point. I’ve been requested to authorize General Sivingdon to take his men across the Sodorfian border, and, if necessary, authorize him ‘to engage any enemy combatants’ he might come across.”

  A horrified gasp escaped the senators like hot steam emitted from a pot.

  “You can’t be serious,” one yelled out. “This is insanity!” shouted another. “We don’t want war!!” chimed a third.

  “SILENCE!!” King Duchenwald screamed, instantly ending the grousing. “We’re here to discuss this, and discuss this we shall—but in an organized fashion. You know the rules: one senator speaks at a time and must stand while speaking. All speeches must be kept to the point! Now, before we begin to debate this important issue, let me lay out all of the known facts for you. First of all, our country indeed may be facing famine. It has now been confirmed by General Sivingdon himself that nearly all of the southern farms have been destroyed. As you well know, almost all our food comes from the south, and harvest time is merely weeks away. The vast majority of our reserves from last year’s harvest are gone. We are dependent upon each harvest’s success. True, some food comes from the north, but nowhere near enough to feed everybody.

  “To survive the coming year, we’ll have to slaughter massive amounts of livestock, including horses, dogs, and other domestic animals, and put the whole country, us included, on rations. The second fact to keep in mind is this destruction wasn’t the work of a small group of men or even several small groups of men. This had to have been a coordinated effort amongst a large number working together—a thousand or more in the opinion of General Sivingdon. Lastly, all reports from o
ur scouts and trackers indicate the tracks leading from these farms go directly south towards the Sodorfian border and into Sodorf. Now, you must bear in mind there would simply be no conceivable reason for any Dachwaldians to do this. Even if there were a few crazed Dachwaldians who wanted to ravage our farmland, they wouldn’t have been able to accomplish it on such a large scale without major assistance, and our spies would have found out about it in advance. General Sivingdon reports heavy rainfall in the south and a very real danger of the tracks leading into Sodorf disappearing soon if he is not authorized to pursue them.

  “If I permit General Sivingdon to cross the border, it’s almost certain the result will be total war, one which would not only be very unfortunate, but also one that we might lose. We have had a peace—albeit an uneasy one—with the Sodorfians for 830 years. When the Seven Years War ended, we were more or less at the mercy of the Sodorfians. They had destroyed the majority of our most elite soldiers—the Moscorians—and assembled one of the greatest military forces the world has ever seen. They could have razed our castle to the ground and slaughtered and enslaved us. Instead, they merely demanded the return of their subjects, the expulsion of all Dachwaldians from Sodorf, and permission for Sodorfians to live in Dachwald to keep an eye on us and prevent such a horrible war from ever breaking out again. It wasn’t an enormous number of Sodorfians that took advantage of that final clause of the treaty, especially not right after the war. But over time, many small Sodorfian communities have arisen throughout Dachwald. In fact, there are even some prominent businessmen in Dachwald of Sodorfian descent. The bottom line is we’ve had peace for a very, very long time. And while it might seem ludicrous to suggest Sodorf wants war with us, the facts can’t be ignored. Something must be done. We cannot lie down like sheep oblivious to the blade cutting our throat.”

  After he finished speaking, an unusual silence descended upon the senate like fog on previously clear day.