The little girl turned and pointed to an open field. Alina reached down and brushed her dirty cheek and the little girl shied away.
From the distance, several horses approached with tall, lanky riders whose feet dragged the dirt ground. The young girl vanished into the crowd before it parted and residents retreated into their stores and homes.
Masera hollered, “Someone is coming, at least seven, maybe eight strangers.” He moved closer to Alina. “Your Highness,” he whispered into her ear. “Stay behind us, this could get tricky.”
Two of Alina’s Elite Guardsmen made their way to the front.
“Who are these strangers who approach, Masera?”
“I do not know who they are but I can tell you what they are. They’re the legendary race of the Gildonese. And they are fierce.”
“Gildonese? Here? I thought they were of fables.”
“No. There are only a few believed to be alive in the world but they are very real. And very dangerous. Stay close to me and do not stare into their eyes.”
The strangers closed in, appearing more frail than fierce. Their gangly bodies seemed to glide fluidly above their horses.
Alina stared in awe of their hypnotic approach. Thirty horse-lengths away and Alina could not break her gaze.
Twenty lengths and Masera poked her ribs. “Don’t look into their eyes, Queen.”
She shook her fuzzy head.
Within a couple of horse-lengths, the pale strangers stopped. Five of them were shirtless with shield-flat chests and protruding ribs along their sides. The other two wore torn slivers of dull, gray stitching across their chests which partially hid their tiny bumps. None of them wore much armor, only small plates that rested on their backs and shoulders, appearing more suitable for acrobatics than war. From a distance, their height was impressive; up close it was startling. Each of the Gildonese must have been at least a man-and-a-half tall.
They waved their hands gracefully as they swayed on their horses, like ripples on a pond.
Soothing. Hypnotic.
One of the two females, the one with hair the color of fire poking from beneath her helmet, rode past Alina’s horse and grunted. Her eyes were cold, black, and deadly. She didn’t speak. Alina turned away.
The Gildonese surrounded her men and she sensed her soldiers’ growing tension.
Masera whispered, “Remind me again why we came with such small numbers?”
“We couldn’t look threatening. We must gain their trust, which is why I had to come personally.”
The lead stranger’s horse brushed against the lead soldier’s. Alina’s brave guard’s lips curled back, displaying his readiness to fight. Alina felt anxiety creep in, which she was sure was what these strangers wanted.
She opened her mouth to speak but the lead stranger spoke first. “Why are you here?” His voice quivered with a soft, almost feminine pitch.
Alina answered from the center of her guards, “We are here …”
“Epertasians,” he shouted, his voice cracking with excitement before he paused for a calming breath. His voice lowered to its original pitch, only now his tone was more deliberate. “Epertasian colors are not welcome here.” He squeezed his steed between the guards, moving closer to Alina. Her soldiers froze, seemingly powerless to stop him.
She looked up into his dead, black pupils. The whites of his eyes turned blood. She should have been afraid but his gaze calmed her. She heard his voice again but this time his lips did not move. Look into my eyes. Gaze into the blackness as I speak. Your mind is open to my …
Alina’s head filled with a dull hum – not a hum but more like sandpaper on rough wood. She had one last moment of clarity, jerked her eyes away, and shook away the fuzz. Her senses returned. “Do not try and put me under a spell, stranger. I will not have it.”
He tilted his head to the side, apparently surprised, maybe even a little impressed.
Masera jerked like something had awakened him as well. He gripped his sheathed sword and nudged his steed against the stranger’s. The Gildonese nodded his head toward the rooftops and chuckled.
Alina looked upward. Ten or twelve archers aimed arrows at her and her men. The stranger snickered. “Speak quickly,” he said. “Time is not with you.”
“I’d reconsider your present course,” Masera said as his men drew defiant swords.
The Gildonese’s voice deepened. “Why is that?” he asked, annoyed.
Masera nodded back toward the rooftops. The stranger guided his eyes upward again. His archers stood with their bows at their side. Epertasian soldiers were at their backs with knives against their jugulars.
The Gildonese’s pitch rose again, “What business have you here?” He took a deep breath and then said in painfully slow, poetic speak, “If you are here because of the western invaders, I assure you that you needn’t worry as our King Fice is well aware of the threat and we are quite capable of defending ourselves against any tyranny, including tyranny from our eastern neighbors which you represent.” His words were almost peaceful in their anger.
Masera laughed. “What, your 8,000 or so men?” He turned toward Alina, “This freak is delusional.”
She snapped, “Masera, show respect. We are here uninvited.” She ushered Allusia forward past her guards, all while sensing they weren’t comfortable with her advance. “Sir, I only wish to address the people of the Lowlands. I believe the threat we face together has the potential to end all of our ways of life.”
He sat atop his horse, pondering her words. “Very well,” he answered before turning to one of his comrades. “Announce a town meeting to begin at once in the town square, where we will give these foreigners ample time to say their piece before we escort them back to their privileged lives in Thasula so they do not miss their luxurious and pampered ways.”
“Sir, I want every Lowlander to hear my words, not just the ones in this field.”
“Silly woman, they needn’t be here to hear your words as long as I am near, and I will make certain your words spread like a scaffe infestation. You have my word.” He spun away and trotted toward the field that was filling with subjects. Alina and her men followed close behind.
CHAPTER 56
KING FICE
Alina climbed onto a makeshift stage that wobbled and creaked its age.
As she prepared to speak, the Gildonese motioned to the crowd and like someone blew out a flame, the audience went silent. His voice quivered as he bellowed, “Lowlanders. This so-called Queen of Epertase has words that she would like to present to you for your consideration as the Epertasian kingdom, in its all-knowing and wise ways, would once again like to control your every action, and if this woman’s words are heeded, you will be saying farewell to your freedom.” He bowed his head, shot an anger-inducing smirk toward her, and moved to the side of the stage.
Queen Alina scowled at him before stepping forward. “I am Alina, Queen of Epertase. King Elijah, my father, has passed on. I am here to discuss a very grave matter.” Some of the Lowlanders stood with their mouths drooped open like their brains were mush. She glanced at the Gildonese at the side of the stage. His lips moved as though he spoke to the crowd yet she heard no sound with either her ears or her mind.
She continued, “Neighbors, Lowlanders, Epertasian brothers. A threat has emerged to our west, a threat that has traveled many miles over the vast seas with the sole purpose of our destruction. This invading army seems unstoppable. They kill all in their wake. They are heartless. But I am here to tell you all. They are not invincible. We can defeat them but it will be hard. It will take all of us coming together. We need your soldiers. We need your support. I did not send a messenger to deliver this news, nor did I stand back and allow you to become extinct. I traveled a long distance to demonstrate my dedication to you and my support of everyone who breathes the free air. Not just the people of Thasula, or Epertase, but all of the people across this great land.”
The crowd seemed indifferent, unfazed by her predictions
of death but she continued just the same. “What I ask of you now, I realize, is a great sacrifice, one that I have no right to ask. But I give you my word. If you trust me, when this war has ended, I will make things right for you. I will give you everything you have now and more. Your children will have education. Your families will have food, and clothes, and all of the things you need to live a peaceful existence. But more importantly, if you do as I ask, I can give you life.”
The Gildonese climbed onto the stage with one fluid step. He addressed the people again. “These words may sound straightforward coming from what I could only imagine is a serpent’s tongue, though I have not seen it to confirm for myself, but we must keep in mind that she is after all Epertasian and surely there is more to her promise than simply saving us poor, pathetic Lowlanders.”
There was no easy way to say what needed to be said next so she blurted, “I am asking you to abandon your homes forever and live in peace in Epertase.”
The crowd didn’t react. Not a moan, not a boo, nothing. She could have told them it may rain tomorrow and received the same response.
The Gildonese grinned. “Lowlanders, again I have told you no lie, as the true desire of this Queen has now been presented to you.” He glared at her, “If your ancestors were unable to dupe us into rejoining the mighty Epertase, then why do you think we will up and move for you? We are quite capable of self-defense, as our ongoing freedom from your tyrannical empire clearly proves.”
“Good sir, we have not shown aggression toward you for many years, if ever.” She directed her attention back to the crowd. “I do not expect you to leave your homes for me. Indeed, I do hope that you are willing to help us in our time of need. But be aware of and take this into consideration: Our survival will directly affect your survival. I do not expect you to do this for me, I expect you to do this for yourselves, for your children.” She pointed west. “That smoke you have gone to bed to each night and awoken to each of the last few mornings, the very smoke that draws nearer each passing day, that, my friends, is Lithia. And tonight she burns.”
Their faces remained stoic and she couldn’t fathom why.
Alina walked to the edge of the stage and scanned the lifeless crowd. “We can win this war.”
The Gildonese turned to the docile crowd and back to her. “They have made their decision for you to leave and never return.”
“What kind of spell do you hold over these people?”
He smiled but didn’t answer.
Alina huffed to the back of the stage, where she was met by Terik. He helped her down. She whispered, “All that can be done is return home and watch for the convoy of Lowlanders to arrive.”
“And if they do not leave? What are my orders?”
Her chest, more specifically her heart, twanged. “Oh, Terik, I believe they will do what is necessary. If they do not, we will be forced to alter our plans.”
“That will prove fatal to Rasi’s overall strategy.”
“What choice do I have, Terik?”
His answer was cold like a good soldier’s should be. “In war, sacrifices need to be made.”
She lowered her brow, at first in wonder, then in anger. “I will not be the death of these people. That is not how Epertase behaves. These people will leave, I have faith. Or else they will fight.”
“And they will die.”
“But not at our hands.”
“Very well, your Highness.”
She had done her best and in that she took solace. She mounted Allusia and prepared to leave.
“Lady?” the Gildonese’s voice squeaked from behind. “A moment of your time?”
“I think we are quite finished here, sir,” she responded without as much as a glance in his direction.
“I do believe you will want to hear what I have to say.” Alina was surprised to turn and find the Gildonese’s eyes level with her own even as he stood and she was on horseback.
Masera crowded his horse between the two. Another horseback soldier moved behind the Lowlander. “Move along,” Masera ordered. “She is finished with you.”
The Gildonese looked hatefully at Masera, then the other guard. He lifted his arms and whipped them outward. Though they flowed with the speed and effort of a slow moving wave, Masera was unable to react. They struck his and the other soldier’s chests, knocking them violently from their horses.
Masera bounced to his feet but Alina waved her hand, halting him. “Easy, Masera, I will hear him out. Lowlander, you have my attention, but my patience is thin.”
He bowed his head forward as if humbled and muttered, “Alone.”
Alina struggled with how to answer.
Then he added a subtle “Please?” which didn’t help his cause.
Masera was agitated and antsy; she saw it on his face as he climbed back onto his horse. He needed to understand that, although he was thirsty for battle, this was their only chance to save these people and he would have to restrain himself if for no other reason than that.
“Very well, you have a moment,” she said.
Masera moved forward, part of his sword exposed. “My Queen, I do not trust this scoundrel. I do not think it is wise for you to be alone with him.”
The Gildonese said, “I understand your reserve, good soldier, and I assure you of her safety and would be quite happy to leave my weaponry here with you while we remain in your line of sight. I will keep ample space between the dear Queen and myself if it so pleases you.”
Alina waved off her friend as the Gildonese lowered his sword to the ground. Masera turned and nodded to one of his men, who then hopped from his horse, readied his bow, and trained an arrow on his target. Masera leaned into the archer’s ear and whispered, “If he moves toward her or reaches for his boot, even for a quick scratch, put one through his heart!”
“Understood, sir.”
Allusia and Alina clopped forward with the Gildonese alongside. They stopped a few shops away.
“What do you want?” Alina asked.
“King Fice, Ruler of the Lowlands, has sent a message.”
“We do not recognize your King Fice any more than we recognize you as a negotiator.”
“That may be, but the people here do and that is what matters if you are to succeed in your phony attempts at concern.”
“Very well. What does Fice have to say?”
“He is concerned about losing his power and wealth if he follows your request and would like some kind of …”
She interrupted, “He will lose his life if he does not.”
“That may be true, but the Great King Fice would gladly sacrifice his people before he sacrifices his power and he …”
Alina bit her lower lip. “Where are we going with this?”
“It is simple. He only wants your guarantee that he will be restored as leader of the Lowlands when this war is over and not be interfered with by Epertasian royalty.”
“Or else w …”
His voice cracked, “I am not finished. King Fice also requires a servant’s room full of gold and silver, for his troubles. Before you answer, understand these are not requests but demands that you will surely accept if you do truly care for these people, as you seem to insist that you do, though I do not understand why.”
“I do not respond to bribery.”
“Then you will cause many to die.”
Alina was silent and then asked, “You will evacuate tonight?”
The stranger grinned, “But, of course.”
She pondered for a moment, then nodded once, yanked at Allusia’s mane, and returned to the others.
The Gildonese walked away, leaving his sword behind.
“Is all well, your highness?” Masera asked as she neared.
“Everything is fine. Let’s head for home.” She rode next to Terik and placed her hand on his shoulder. “The plan is in motion. Be safe, my friend, and I will see you soon.”
“I will put the Tek cowards into the ground, Queen.”
She knew he
would do his best.
“We shall part ways now,” he said.
“Yes, Terik, I am afraid so. You be safe and fight hard.”
She wondered if this would be the last time she saw her loyal friend.
A teenage boy passed. Alina reached for him. “Young boy?”
He stopped and looked curiously at her.
Alina pointed at the Gildonese as he disappeared into the distance. “Who is that tall man?” she asked.
He looked at her like she had just asked what her own name was. “Why that’s King Fice, of course,” he said and then made his way to the “Hore Hous.”
I will remember you, Fice.
CHAPTER 57
MERCENARIES
Simcane arrived at the burned-out house of worship in Pataska where he was to meet his new team. He was a day early. His first task was to start a fire, which he did with some japsy weed and scrap tree limbs. His stomach rumbled and his thighs and lower back throbbed from the long trip. Though he hid his soreness from Alina, the symbiot battle indeed left him broken as he seemed to heal much slower as he aged.
He opened his pack and removed a vegetable stick and a pan. With a cloth around the handle, he shoved the pan and his vegetable stick into the fire, where it melted into a gooey paste. He spread the paste onto a torn chunk of rye bread before devouring it. He entered the abandoned house. Tomorrow I will hunt a real meal, he thought as he lay down on the cold, warped, hardwood floor. Within moments he was dreaming.
As was his habit since long before the Heathen War, he woke before the suns could rise. He stretched away some of the kinks though a few would take most of the morning to fade. His knotted gut let him know it wasn’t pleased with its lack of alcohol as of late.
As he stepped out of the worship house, he felt a slight tug of guilt, for it had been many years since he had willingly visited one. Maybe the gods would understand at the final judgment. Maybe they wouldn’t. Who was he to say? The pre-dawn morning was brisk. Though the southern suns had yet to break the horizon, their glow melded with the shadowed lumps of faraway clouds.
Light of Epertase 01: Legends Reborn Page 25