The Black Sword Trilogy: The Four Nations

by VanMeter, Jeffery

  “Now what?” He asked.

  As he stood there, she handed him a small, metal flask.

  “Drink this.” She told him.

  Without thinking, he took a drink from the flask, passed out and fell to the ground. Looking at him lying on the ground, she sat down next to him.

  “Sorry about that.” She said to his unconscious body.

  She then took a drink herself and fell back and into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  At the King’s orders, the Grand Army had once again returned to Kallesh. General Krypt had tried to rest his men as best as he could by taking them back to the White City as slowly as possible, but every night, his encampment had suffered raids by small bands of Wolfen. His scouts had reported that a small force of Wolfen had followed his army back as far as the farming village of Ayelgen and he left a battalion to defend the village from attack. The scouts had also told Krypt of spies watching the army move across the plain on its way back.

  By the time the army reached the “Iron Gates”, Krypt could tell that they were exhausted. They were not allowed the luxury of carts to move the troops. Instead, all fifteen thousand of his infantry had to march on foot and they had been for ten long winter days. Upon their arrival in the middle of the night, the gates did not however swing wide for the army to enter the city and thus back to the barracks. They opened only slightly for a single messenger wearing the armor one of the King’s guards to pass through.

  The guard saluted the General and then approached his horse.

  “What’ going on here?” An annoyed General Krypt asked. “Why aren’t the gates opened for my army?”

  “Do I need to remind you sir that this is the King’s army?” The guard replied.

  “It is Walechia’s army and it has marched for ten days in the snow. Now let us through.”

  “I’m sorry, General, but the King forbids it.”

  Krypt fought his anger and exhaustion down and kept his voice low.

  “And why, pray tell is that?”

  “It is the King’s orders and His Majesty need not explain himself to the likes of you.”

  Krypt slowly turned to one of his Majors who took his horse backward two steps.

  “What is your rank, soldier?” Krypt asked in the most polite voice he could manage.

  “I am a sergeant.”

  “And what is my rank?”

  “You are a General.”

  “Very good; and am I not the Commanding General of the Grand Army of Walechia?”

  The sergeant looked nervous.

  “You are.” He said hesitantly.

  “And was I not appointed to this rank by the King?”

  “You…you were.”

  “Then as Commanding General of the Grand Army of Walechia, I order that these gates be opened be opened fully to allow my…I’m sorry…Walechia’s Army to pass to the barracks.”

  “But sir…”

  “Now!” Krypt barked.

  Moments later, the teams of horses required to open the massive gates pulled them wide.

  It took several hours for the Army to go through the city and get in to the barracks. Meanwhile, Krypt and Major Valon were escorted to the King’s private chambers. It was a large room with a roaring fire in the fireplace and a large four-poster bed. The mattress was covered in deer skins and what looked like a young girl seemed to be hiding under the covers. Sitting in a chair next to the fire was King Melkur. He appeared to be doubled over in pain and rocking back and forth. Krypt and his Major faced the King and bowed.

  “Where have you been?” The King asked shakily.

  “I’m not sure what you mean, Your Majesty.” Krypt answered.

  “I sent for you three days ago.” The King said, his voice rising. “Why are you only now arriving?”

  “Without the aid of carts, it is a ten day march from our last battlefield.”

  “I’m not talking about the army!” The King yelled. “I’m talking about you!”

  Krypt remained calm and composed.

  “It is important that a General rides at the head of his army and with his troops, Your Majesty.”

  “More important that your King?”

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty; but I was not aware that a lowly soldier such as myself was so important to my King.”

  The King turned his face to Krypt. His face was pale and his eyes looked as if in great pain. Although he was wrapped in animal skins, he appeared to be trembling.

  “You serve at my pleasure, Krypt.” Melkur hissed. “You will do as you’re told!” He shouted.

  Krypt did not reply. He stood still and stared coldly at pathetic creature before him.

  “Where is that damn doctor?” The King howled. “Where is my medicine?”

  He rose from his chair and began limping and pacing.

  “Did you, at least win the battle?” He asked Krypt.

  “We did, Your Majesty and with comparatively light casualties this time.”

  “I don’t give a damn about the casualties! It is a soldier’s duty to fight for his King and if he dies in that duty, so be it!”

  “Your soldiers fought bravely in the defense of their country, Your Majesty…”

  “I am this country! I am this nation!”

  The King appeared to stumble and an attendant caught him before he fell. The servant then helped the King back to his chair. Breathing heavily, Melkur rubbed his face in his hands.

  “My scouts tell me there is an army of Wolfen near the city of Plaeno.”

  “I have not heard such reports.” Krypt answered.

  “The Wolfen are there! I want you to move the army south in the morning.”

  “The army has been fighting for months and has marched for ten days, Your Majesty. They need rest.”

  “Are you questioning my orders?” Melkur screamed.

  “No, Your Majesty; but I would like some confirmation of these reports…”

  “You will take my army south first thing in the morning! You will find this army of Wolfen and destroy them! Those are my orders!”

  From behind him, he could hear the doors of the chamber open. Krypt looked and saw the King’ doctor pass by him and to the King. Krypt then bowed and left the chamber.

  As he left the palace complex and stood in front of the fountain, Krypt saw the first light of day approaching.

  “This isn’t good.” Valon said to him. “I’m not sure the men could march another step.”

  “Send word throughout the barracks,” Krypt told him. “The troops are not to be awakened and they are to rest as much as possible today.”

  “But the King said we are to leave first thing in the morning.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t say which morning, did he?”

  Valon smiled and nodded.

  Deep in the recesses of the palace, the King’s doctor, Leyews crept into his chambers. Nearly the instant he entered the doors, the flames in his own fireplace turned blue and a cold, hard faced filled the fireplace. Leyews fell to his knees and bowed.

  “I am here, master.” He said reverently.

  “Did the King get his medicine?” The deep, smooth voice of the face asked coldly.

  “Yes, master. He is sleeping soundly.”

  “And the Grand Army?”

  “My spies tell me they will spend the day in the barracks and then leave tomorrow. The march to Plaeno will take three days to reach there. When they arrive the soldiers will be so tired as to not be able to walk.”

  “Don’t be so sure, Leyews. This Krypt is a clever General. He will find a way to rest his men without the knowledge of the King.”

  “But surely, Master the Grand Army will still be too exhausted to defend themselves…”

  “It is not the army that is my prey, this time. Krypt is a good General but General Fraust is next in line. He is an idiot who will lead the troops to ruin.”

  “Yes, my master.”

  “With incompetent leadership, the army will be vulnerable and on
ce the King is gone and another idiot put in his place, the first part of our work will be done.”

  “You are most wise, Master.”

  “You have done well, my servant. When this business of ours is over, you will be richly rewarded.”

  The face in the fire disappeared and Leyews felt his heart rise at the confirmation of his good deeds being rewarded.

  The Admirals of Sheyron

  The people of Sheyron learned early in the development of their nation that the key to the survival of their tiny nation lay in trade. Having only one large city, Korsh and small towns on islands off of their cost, Sheyron did not have population enough to support a large military force. Their well-trained army could defend its borders for a time, but not win a sustained military campaign.

  Sheyron did have the largest Navy in the known world, but that had been nearly an accident. Before the Dark Times, the growing and developing land nations came to rely on Sheyron for trade with the other nations and during the Dark Times, Sheyron provided supplies and materials needed for the other nations to sustain their fight. Sheyron was able to do this by sailing their ships out of their own harbors and up the Serpent River in Walechia and the Tree of Life in Masallah. For this, the other nations provided protection for the small nation.

  When the Great War broke out, Sheyron ensured its own survival by trading and transporting weapons and supplies for Masallah and Walechia for free if the two nations agreed not to invade Sheyron. Neither nation, of course knew of the arrangement with the other and both were under the impression that their agreement with Sheyron was exclusive.

  Faraday’s war began by him seizing control of Korsh and shutting down trade and shipping. When supplies for Masallah and Walechia began to run low, his invading army, made up of thousands of troops from all four nations had a much easier road to victory.

  After the Great War, Sheyron again began trading with the other three nations and the nation quickly began accumulating great wealth and power. By shipping goods from all the nations to ports all over the known world, wealth flowed into Korsh. It was said that “a river of gold” flowed into the palace on the island of Nozel.

  It was so rich, in fact that any citizen of Sheyron that did not earn a minimum amount of currency per year was given a special stipend from the government in order to maintain “A standard of living worthy of a citizen of Sheyron (Admiral Gondol).” In order to qualify for this stipend, a citizen had to maintain a job or profession within the borders of Korsh or on one of the islands. This made citizenship in Sheyron much prized by the peoples of other nations and many attempted to emigrate. However, Sheyron had very strict immigration laws and jealously protected her borders.

  Being a very wealthy nation, Sheyron also became known as a home of artists and intellectuals. Professional musicians, painters, sculptors, writers and philosophers were sponsored by the government to “Enrich the lives of the great people of Sheyron (Admiral Hono)” and the arts flourished. Grand sculptures lined the streets of Korsh and great paintings hung every official building and hall. And because Sheyron had trade with all the other nations, there was never any fear of hunger or disease. Because all the other nations relied on goods provided through Sheyron’s trade; such as crops from Walechia sold to Masallah (and vice versa), Sheyron’s trade empire had never been in jeopardy since the end of The Great War. A shortage of tobacco had been the only thing to provide any kind of unrest in the five hundred years following the end of the war.

  The political structure of Sheyron was much different than the other nations. Sheyron had no King, Queen or royal family. Instead, Sheyron had an “Admiral” that was elected by a special council of military and merchant ship captains. This Admiral ruled through this council, which met regularly in order to discuss matters of state and/or important social matters.

  The Admirals had learned early on that the secret to maintaining peace and security for their nation lie in the dependence the other three nations had in their trade with and through the tiny nation. They had also learned that maintaining peace at home lie in keeping their people healthy and happy. No nation is without political intrigue or scandal. However, for five hundred years, the Admirals of Sheyron had not only maintained peace and prosperity. They achieved a standard of living for themselves and their people of which the rest of the known world was sorely jealous.

  Chapter Eleven

  In his deep sleep, Kenner had a dream that was so clear and realistic, it seemed truly real. He could see sharp, contrasting colors, like violets, reds, greens and yellows. He could hear voices coming from all around him and the people they belonged to. And in addition to familiar scents, there were strong and sweet aromas he’d never before known. He was being led down a path through a dense forest filled with trees he’d never before known. They weren’t as tall as the trees he knew from his forest in the hills, but they were so lush and full there was nearly no space not covered by leaves and vines. The canopy of the forest was so dense, barely any light filtered through. Strange animals and brightly colored birds peered at him from above and around him and unlike his mostly quiet woods, this forest was alive with almost deafening noise.

  It was hot and he felt as if surrounded by steam. On both sides of the path were strange people covered in hair and wearing battle armor. Despite their formidable weapons, he did not feel afraid or even intimidated. Somehow he knew they meant him no harm and that he would be safe.

  At the end of the path was a huge stone building rising above the forest and having a smooth domed roof. It rivaled in size the palaces of Kallesh. Suddenly he was at the top of the stone steps leading to the large doors. They swung wide and he heard what sounded like hundreds of voices chanting in rhythm. The inside was cavernous with rows of seats built into the walls and circling a massive tiled floor.

  There were pictures made out of the tiles, but he couldn’t make out what they were, for dominating the floor in the center was a giant, black, hollowed-out tree stump with thick smoke billowing out of its jagged top. The smoke had a familiar, but much stronger aroma; tobacco. The stump was sitting perfectly on its roots and he could see one root stretching out across the floor and tapering off to a series of vines that crawled up a stone pedestal at the far end of the hall. He could see someone seated in what looked like a throne at the top of the ornate pedestal, but before he could make out the figure in the throne, he was awoken by someone shaking him.

  “Kenner,” a familiar voice spoke to him. “Wake up. We’re almost there.”

  Kenner opened his eyes, but the blinding light felt like daggers penetrating his eyes. His head felt heavy and as if there were a small blacksmith hammering metal in his skull.

  “Headache?” Terri’s voice asked him.

  He rubbed his eyes gently and tried to push himself up to a seated position, but the hard ground seemed to move underneath him.

  “What the hell happened?” He groaned.

  “I’m sorry about that.” Terri’s voice said again. “I had to give you a mild sleeping potion.”

  He slowly opened his eyes again and the blur he saw before sharpened into a clear image. Terri was seated across from him and several other figures in cloaks lined a wooden structure that seemed to barely contain all of them.

  “Where am I?” He asked.

  “To be specific, you’re in a boat” Terri answered smiling.

  “A boat?” He said and almost jumped up. As he did, he felt it rock underneath him. Two hands from people he couldn’t see steadied him. “Why am I in a boat?”

  “We’re going to see the Lady.” Terri said grinning.

  His head still hurt and he carefully rose to a seated position. He could only see Terri and the cloaked people around him.

  “Where’s Shela?” He asked in an irritated voice.

  “Two boats behind us.” Terri answered.

  Kenner sighed and rubbed his, still hurting head.

  “How long was I asleep?”

  “Three days.” Terri said simpl
y.

  “Three days?” He almost shouted. Again he moved too quickly and the boat rocked. The hands steadied him once more.

  “Like I said,” Terri added. “It was a mild sleeping potion.”

  “You have a strange concept of the word ‘mild’.”

  “If you makes you feel any better, I had to take the same potion. I always do when I visit.”

  “I swear to the Lady, if I ever get the chance, I’m going to piss in your ale.”

  Terri stopped him speaking anymore by putting her hand on his shoulder.

  “Look up.” She told him.

  Kenner looked above him and was awed by what he saw.

  Soaring above him were huge, black trees, their branches reaching to the sky barely visible above him. He raised himself more and saw that the trunks of the trees were as large as houses. His breath was taking away by the massive trees and branches soaring into the sky. Staring with wide eyes, he found himself giggling like a little boy and then laughing. Nothing he’d ever experienced or even imagined prepared him for the awesome power of what he saw around and above him.

  The boat passed next to a tree rooted on the river bank and it seemed so alive and mighty, he felt small and helpless like a child. He wanted to cry out in joy and terror at the same time, but he had no breath in his chest. He could also feel the life within the trees. They were looking down on him and watching. He felt it. He knew it. He heard whispering voices as if trying to speak to him and greet him as a welcome guest.

  He also saw creatures of the forest running to the banks of the river. Some peeked curiously from behind the massive black trunks. Squirrels ran down the trunks. Rabbits, raccoons and deer flooded the river banks and all seemed to want to look at him in as much wonder as he felt at that moment. One of these, a mighty stag bigger than any he’d ever seen before appeared on the river’s edge as if presenting himself; showing himself off.