Crystal King (Riland Throne Book 1)

by John Olsen

  Gavin dropped back to the tail of the caravan and glanced back at the town as the evacuees made their way along the dusty road. A few of those who refused to leave had come to watch or to say goodbye to friends or family. A group of them joined the reeve who scowled at him. They turned and walked back into town grumbling among themselves.

  From the top of one of the buildings, he caught sight of Adrian giving him a high sign. With luck, the man would convince the remaining townspeople to leave before they were overrun. Gavin had done what he could and left the rest of the work in the best hands available. He prayed it was enough.

  Gerald Stoutheart rarely defied King Ithan, but this time, he had no choice but to argue against the plan to overrun and loot Greenvale. Gerald stood at the camp table, fists resting on the worn wood.

  “If you destroy the town, you’ll have to rebuild it later.”

  Trees stood in the distance far to the east. The road rose where it approached Greenvale with farms on either side in a large ring around the town, which itself sat on a slight rise. The fields were mostly cleared, with just a few late holdouts of fall vegetables and grains yet to be collected. The crops would be destroyed along with the town. Such waste was unavoidable to some degree, but Gerald preferred to preserve what he could.

  King Ithan shook his head. “I can live with that. It’s on your head anyway. Your failures have slowed us to a crawl. We didn’t even get to your castle before everyone fled with most of the food.”

  “Your highness, I hardly think –”

  “You’re here to answer my questions, not to think. I did the thinking weeks ago. We’re behind schedule, and this town has what we need to speed our advance. We take them out and try to catch up with the rumors of the invasion before someone organizes enough people to cause us real trouble.”

  Gerald backed off, wanting to avoid the full wrath of the king. “I did mention Draken was resourceful, especially when under stress. He must have taken control in the name of my son and evacuated.”

  “I don’t care about your little walled home and its peasants. The past is past. The only thing it’s good for is to teach us to not be surprised by this Draken, or whoever has taken control of your people. Whoever is in charge is a shrewd organizer, and he’s in front of us. All the more reason to flatten the town, take what we can use, and move on to catch up to our target. My spy, Edwyn, has fed me plenty of information on the towns we’re approaching, including this one. He’s daring and clever with that bird of his, and he gets me reports nobody else can. The best way to anticipate an opponent’s next move is to kill him. With enough information, we’ll do just that.”

  Gerald fumed over not having Adrian’s crystal from the castle vault so he could do some spying of his own. Someone, probably Draken, had it now. Without the crystal, he had no way to know which camp Adrian Albin and his ruffians used, and he didn’t have time to visit them all. It was sheer foolishness to misplace the crystal when he first left for the conference, and he cursed his carelessness.

  To add to Gerald’s frustrations, the king’s decision to pillage the town without detailed scouting rubbed him the wrong way. The town was a significant resource, but they were prepared for an attack. King Ithan would pay for his foolish decisions, fueled by his quest to conquer the entire kingdom in one pass. Gerald saw the signs of the king’s overreach, partially due to Gerald’s own failure to have supplies waiting.

  He couldn’t confront the king or challenge his decisions without risking his safety. “It will be as you command, Your Majesty. I’ll pass along the order to attack once everyone’s in place.”

  On the road, Gerald waited as the last of the hunters and patrols formed up with the rest of the animals and footmen. Their timing wasn’t perfect, but Ithan’s men showed good discipline. He could make good use of them once Ithan was out of the way.

  Gerald passed the wagons where several of the hunters and scouts were already in controller trances with a heavy guard while the large animals they controlled ambled forward as shock troops. Gerald moved to follow behind them, connecting with the bear who had long been his crystal-trained companion.

  Once everyone was in place, they proceeded over the last hills obstructing their view of the town. The closest chimneys showed lazy trails of smoke. Gerald wondered if the refugees had passed through without disturbing the town. Perhaps this would be easier than he had feared. It pained him to think King Ithan might be right.

  A man on the road turned and fled as Gerald’s bear and the other animals came over the last rise. Nobody ever outran the animals for long. Despite Gerald’s disagreement with the king’s goals, it was satisfying to see the people on the streets flee as the animals pounded down the road and adjacent fresh-plowed fields in a coordinated wave.

  Gerald watched from the rear through his bear’s eyes as the front wave of war animals, twenty-five wide and two deep, moved in. When they neared the outskirts, they hit a shallow, covered trench in a line perpendicular to the road. Thousands of sharp wooden spikes lined the trench. Most of the front rank hit a spike with a paw. Many animals fell, and more spikes drove into legs and chests as they landed. Screams of animal agony and fear reached back to the rear of the army. Those noises were echoed by a handful of men who were yanked violently back out of their trances at the death of their animal.

  The injured animals limped past the shallow trench. Gerald’s bear and the remaining animals used the road to cross the area, with footmen coming up behind. The worst of the injured animals pulled back. They checked for more traps but discovered a handful of archers who let off a volley from behind the corners of buildings before vanishing into the town.

  The war animals eased forward to the first buildings and took shelter while waiting for the footmen to catch up. Without verbal commands relayed by the footmen, the animals regrouped to wait. To continue on their own would open them up to attack on all sides, and could split them into teams too small to be effective. The men came forward and issued orders to group up and gain some ground within the town. More men entered the homes and shops at the edge of town. Gerald joined the second wave into the town. The bear was one of his favorite war animals, despite it having lost an ear a few years prior. He inspected the trap as he picked his way past the spikes. The footmen came up empty in their search of the closest buildings. Gerald’s curiosity grew as the teams found no half-prepared meals or other signs of occupation or hasty flight. The whole thing smelled of Adrian Albin’s planning, right down to the decoy fires to make the town appear to be fully occupied. The man was too clever for his own good. He must have joined up with Draken. If those two were back together after all these years, it meant trouble. He’d gone to great lengths to keep them apart.

  The animals slowed even more, advancing one home at a time until they caught sight of three dozen people in the town square. Gerald recognized the man standing in front as Reeve Baker, but the people behind him were only a small fraction of the population. Gerald loped forward to see what was happening.

  “It wasn’t us! We tried to stop them. We surrender to you. We open our homes to you.”

  The animals closed in on the people and did what they were best at, but Gerald had other plans. If the fools were going to butcher the people who could tell them about other traps, he wasn’t going to get in their way.

  He continued past the square to the far side of town to see several wagons race away to the south at a full gallop. Loaded in the wagons were a mix of mostly children with a few adults, but standing at the back of the final wagon was Adrian with his telltale metal collar. He pointed directly at Gerald’s one-eared black bear and saluted. As an automatic response, Gerald raised the she-bear’s right paw to return the signal. Adrian would know it was Gerald controlling the bear by his response. Perhaps there would be a way to make use of the spy later. Adrian had a way of showing up unexpectedly to deliver information, so Gerald must be ready to bring him back under his direct control when they met. You had to keep a firm hand to con
trol your resources properly.

  The wagons raced around a bend and were hidden from sight, leaving nothing but clouds of dust hanging over the road. Gerald had no way to chase them down. He returned to the town square and the grisly feast, letting his bear feed. Waste not, want not.

  An hour later, Gerald approached the edge of town on his way back to the camp when he heard debris fall, followed by screams from the king’s soldiers. A man in armor hobbled out of a nearby home. “The stairs collapsed. They’ve trapped the whole cracking town!” Rumors of danger spread among the men like wildfire, especially after a man was run through by a spear triggered by a tripwire. All told, they lost three more men to the traps and a dozen more were injured while looting homes.

  Gerald knew Adrian took particular joy in projects like these traps. Even though the traps were spread thinly around the town, they were frequent enough to make the soldiers suspect every building. It would be a pleasure to apply Adrian’s skills on a whole new level once Gerald took the kingdom.

  The downside was that taking the town was a disaster for the army. The only bright spots were the supplies left behind, and the feast in the town square.

  Most of the subjects had fled with the group from the castle. Gerald picked his way through telltale campfire pits and latrines where the refugees had left them outside the town. A light autumn rain overnight made it difficult to tell how long it had been, but it couldn’t be more than two or three days ago.

  Back at his wagon, Gerald latched the bear’s collar onto a special fixture designed to hold the animal fast once he released it. He pulled back to his body and stood on shaky feet and sought the king’s tent. Ithan would expect a report.

  Ithan raved as he glared at the town from their hastily formed camp. “We’ll be stuck here for at least a day longer. We were close to catching your people, Gerald. Now we have so many injured animals and men that we will be hard pressed to find enough bandages. The men will want two days, but we’re moving in one regardless. The injured will just have to keep up.”

  He pointed at the buildings. “Gerald, the men have heard noises from possible survivors hiding in the town. I want answers, and some of those survivors may have what I need. Go find me someone to question.”

  Gerald bit back a response. He knew what had happened, and the biggest traps would have failed if the king had trusted him. This arrangement had to change, but the king still had his uses. The king’s men wouldn’t follow Gerald when they were still this close to home. The ambush in the town had worn them down, but they’d retreat all the way to the Graven Kingdom if the king died here. Gerald still needed the army. Therefore, he still needed the king.

  He nodded to Ithan. “I will organize the search for survivors. I’ve visited this town several times, and can speed up the search if it pleases you.”

  The king nodded a dismissal and marched into the camp muttering under his breath. His personal guards formed up around him.

  Gerald walked back into the town and watched as two soldiers walked past a disguised storage cellar. “You two, follow me. The king sent me to direct the search. We’ll start here.” He pointed at the storage door decorated with shingles. Their expressions told him everything. They hadn’t even seen it.

  He stationed the guards outside the cellar, and then entered with a torch. “Hello? Is anyone here?” His accent would be familiar, even if they didn’t recognize his voice. The first cellar held stacks of supplies set aside for winter but was otherwise empty. The third cellar was where his efforts paid off.

  A voice in a dark corner shushed him. “They’ll hear you. Get away from those stairs and put out your light.”

  Gerald made his way back, spilling light on a family hidden behind some storage crates. “Sir? Is it you? Baron Stoutheart? We thought you died with the king.”

  Gerald suppressed a smile. “Mere rumors. What happened to everyone?”

  The man eased forward, leaving his wife to hug the children in the corner. “Your son, Gavin, took most of the people with him. Everyone’s calling him the new baron now. He’s doing you proud. We didn’t believe an army would come, but we were wrong. Oh, so wrong. We should have joined the evacuation. A few of your son’s men stayed and built the trench and all the traps. Some of them are still watching from a distance.”

  Gerald couldn’t understand what this family hoped to gain by hiding. “You can’t stay here in your cellar. The army will find you.”

  “I plan to peek out through the door when it gets dark to see if we can run for it. Will you stay here with us until dark, sir?”

  Gerald said, “I’ll send someone for you. You’ve helped me more than you will ever know.” So, his son was leading the people. Maybe the boy was stepping up instead of dodging work. Gerald could always hope. Adrian and his men were still watching them, too. The news couldn’t reach King Ithan, or it would turn his son into more of a target. He made his way around the storage and climbed back up the steep steps to where the soldiers waited outside.

  He pointed down through the doorway with his thumb. “King’s orders. Leave no one alive. Be careful not to ruin the supplies.”

  They emptied six hidden cellars of supplies and survivors by evening. The king would never learn of Adrian and his men watching from the woods. It was unfortunate to kill the two families he found, but the new information on Adrian’s men gave him an edge. Gerald met with the king once more, this time in the nicest building not destroyed by the army or by saboteurs. “This is a good choice, Your Majesty. The Dragon’s Plate was a fine inn. They served great food, but the hostess was too nosy for my liking. I see the fresh supplies made it to you.” The king sat at a table set with a small feast.

  “Yes. You did well in finding more than my men did on their own. Were there any survivors?”

  “Unfortunately, everyone died or left with the evacuation.” Technically, the statement was true. “With the lack of local opposition, I recommend you leave a minimal detachment of soldiers here. It will be trivial to hold against any locals who might come to town from nearby farms. We can use this town as a storage depot for the extra weapons we’ve found, along with those of the dead footmen. There is no threat here, and there’s nothing at all behind us.” Gerald hoped his lies all sounded reasonable, given what the king knew of the town.

  The king steepled his hands in front of him. “I agree we must take as many men as we can with us. We’ll leave the seriously wounded men and a few others. We can’t lose sight of the goal to get to the capital with a large force and take control. Everything else is just a part of that goal.”

  Gerald smiled. A small garrison would be easy work for Adrian’s men to cut down, and the extra weapons would arm them better. That should send a clear message to Adrian to prepare for a fight under Gerald’s direction. Having the larger army with him would be important as they closed in on the capital.

  King Ithan said, “We will travel east of the main road before we close on your refugees to claim their supplies. Not only has game been scared away from the main road, but my scout has reported back on the surroundings, and you somehow forgot to tell me about some of the smaller villages within easy reach.”

  Gerald pursed his lips. “I hoped to keep a more direct path, and to preserve some of the smaller farming and ranching communities for you untouched.”

  “I shouldn’t have to remind you that you are the source of information, and I am the source of decisions. I expect a report from you on these villages as we approach them.”

  * * *

  The army was back on the road after a day of delay. Gerald saw the king’s growing anger and complaints at each setback. The army diverted to the east away from the main road and into the hills.

  “We haven’t brought down a deer for two days. We’re advancing like an old crippled hag because of the injured men and animals. You assured me when we made our plans that supplies were the least of our worries, and now it turns out to be the greatest obstacle. I’m much freer with rewards to those
who keep their commitments.”

  They walked along a ridge overlooking a now-deserted hamlet surrounded by freshly harvested fields. The people had been unable to haul the entire harvest when they fled, which left the army with some grain and vegetables, but it was a meager improvement.

  “You’re right, Your Majesty. The shortage of supplies is my failure, yet we still advance. Our successes have been limited, but we still succeed. I shared a great deal of information about the villages and what we can claim from them. The refugees ahead of us chose to burden themselves with a large stockpile of supplies, and they have many women and children with them.”

  King Ithan nodded. “My spy says they have heavily loaded wagons. They also have thirty or more head of cattle which, per your promise, belong to me.”

  “Well, that’s our herd then. Is this spy the one with the bird? What kind of bird does he control?”

  King Ithan peered up into the evening sky, a mottled mix of oranges and reds as the sun set. “I’m getting tired of reminding you that information goes to me, to share as I see fit. At least the garrison can hold Greenvale. We’ll need it once we start running a full supply route.”

  Gerald smiled. “I think things will work out exactly as planned in Greenvale.”

  * * *

  The next day, the army moved farther off the main road and came across the village of Spice Run, nestled in the forested hills. Gerald watched the farmers working their fields as he stood under brown fall trees at the edge of the farmland. Things were improving. The hunting parties had brought down some game as they ventured into more remote forest roads. It had also led them to an area that had received no warning of their approach.

  “Your Highness, this village isn’t overflowing with crops and herds, but they can contribute quite a bit to us.” He tried to steer the king away from destroying this particular village. Gerald’s second cousin, Phineas, lived here and would be useful. The man was an easily manipulated boot-licker and had gladly given resources to support Gerald in the past, in the hope of some unnamed future reward. At least he was dedicated and consistent, and that meant a lot to Gerald.