The Power Within: The Chronicles of Hollyglade Wayrender

by Steve Barker

  Lord Birk’s response was as quick as it was fierce.

  “With respect my Lord, it is not we that shall rush to war. War is upon us. War is presently declared. The only question that remains for us has to do with strategy for that war, and the scale of our offensive.” Turning to the King, Lord Birk continued “Your Grace, I propose that we make our goal nothing less than Whiterock. That we make our goal nothing less than to conquer Loria and bring it under your rule. I believe that anything less would simply result in endlessly escalating conflict. King Harford is not fit to wear his father’s boots, let alone sit upon his throne.”

  The King did not immediately respond to his Lords. In his many years on the throne of Demaria, King Dermond Riaghlad had fought his share of battles. At the young age of sixteen, he had led his father’s army against the rebellion of several houses within the Kingdom, and successfully put an end to the Northern Uprising. He had commanded his own forces, in the early days of his reign, in the three year war with Ellendor, and being outnumbered by an overwhelming force, he fought to a stalemate and successfully sued for peace. He rooted out the bandits calling themselves The True Elders, and put an end to the raids upon the villages along the foothills.

  King Dermond also did his part to bloodlessly negotiate peace with Loria nearly thirty years earlier when the council had then pushed for a Demarian invasion of Loria. He was a man who knew when to attack, when to wait, and when to talk.

  “Friend, pardon me, but I do not know your name” the King said as he turned to Vernon.

  “Howe, Your Grace. Vernon Howe.”

  “Mr. Howe. Tell me. You spoke of King Harford’s decree regarding the Elder Folk. Many Elder Folk have sought sanctuary in Demaria in recent months, and so we have heard various reports of the methods used by both the garrisons and the army in removing them from their homes. But I would like to hear what is said at court, and more so, what you can tell us, if anything, about the King’s own thoughts and motivations on the matter.”

  “Your Grace. I can tell you that, at first, it was the King’s expressed wish that the Elder Folk be relocated away from Magnaville. It was very shortly after the issuing of his first decree regarding this, that he expanded the radius of the decree to the neighbouring counties. However, I will say that his written decree gave no mention of tactics, and when he gave instruction to his commanders, both of the garrison and the army, the King was clear that patience must be exercised, and that force was not to be used unless no other option of enforcement remained. To my knowledge, this instruction was adhered to.

  “As to the motivation, none was made clear. It was a question many in the court strove to find an answer to, yet so far no one has been able to deduce the motive for the King’s actions, nor any clear agenda.”

  “Tell me Mr. Howe, how many garrisons, divisions, troops or battalions does he commit to the endeavour?”

  “Your Grace, I believe it is all of them.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. In the last few weeks, the King gave orders to his commanders to engage the entirety of their resources to the task of purging the Elder Folk from his lands. In addition, I heard rumour that in the latest set of directives to those commanders, there were descriptions of particular persons of interest given. It was said that the King wished the capture of several of the Elder Folk. No reason for the need, or desire, for the capture was known.”

  “To be clear, friend, you say that the entire Lorian army, and the King’s garrisons are spread throughout the country about the task of purging the land of Elder Folk? That there is currently no gathered standing force?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. That is accurate.”

  The King stood, nodded to Vernon, and then looked to the commander of his forces.

  “Lord Birk, ready the army we have here in Rivershore, and meet with me here once you have issued your orders for preparation. Together we will define our war plan. Lord Grange, send word to Downwater and Westshore to ready fleets in both the Eastern and Western Seas. We ride at dawn.”

  “Father,” Prince Detron interjected “I will ride with you and bring you glory in battle.”

  “No Son. You will not. You are my eldest and heir, and thus you have some right to earn glory in war, but I have need of you elsewhere. You shall serve our house in this war. You both shall,” he said as he look to Prince Dornian “for I have others plans. Plans I will place in the hands of those I trust to see them through. You shall join us, and Lord Birk, here to discuss what I have in store for this impudent whelp who calls himself a king.”

  “Mr. Howe” the King turned to Vernon once more “you shall attend also. I may have further questions which you may be able to answer.”

  Vernon bowed his acknowledgement.

  “Lords” announced the King. “you have work to do.”

  Each of the Lords bowed, and left to begin preparations for war.

  ◆ ◆ ◆ ◆

  Looking to the sky to find the position of the sun, dGerrie determined that it was about halfway between noon and sundown. It had been another day full of anxiety and tension. This morning, dGerrie had been forced to watch another innocent family lose their lives as a result of goodwill toward a suffering stranger. He felt some sort of solace in believing he had at least saved the boy. dGerrie felt sympathy for the young child, knowing what kind of life was now in store for the recently orphaned youth. He hoped that the boy might be lucky enough to have a relative take him in, someone better than dGerrie’s own extended family, whom he had run from so many years ago.

  As they entered the first town since leaving the farm earlier that day, Var Toran stopped to give dGerrie his instructions.

  “Mr. Theurbeault, I must find and meet with the garrison commander in this town, as we now have the need for additional men. I would like you to canvas public houses, inns, and taverns in search of any sign of our missing girl. I recognise this little town, and suggest we meet at the Inn at the end of this road at sundown. You shall be able to find it by the carriage wheel hung on the railing outside the main entrance. If the girl is smart, she will have moved on by now, but we may at least hope for another lead.”

  “And if I find her?”

  “I trust you are as capable knotting a rope as you are firing a bow, Mr Theurbealt. Our contract requires she be intact and unharmed.”

  dGerrie nodded and nudged his horse into a walk, heading for the first establishment along the main road.

  As he hitched his horse to the rail, dGerrie looked at his surroundings. The air was cooler now, as the evening was drawing near, and night would fall soon after. The roads were still dry and dusty, as it was now near ten days since the last rain. Looking up and down the road and side streets, dGerrie observed the hustle and bustle of merchants and traders, buyers, sellers, and townsfolk milling about and trying to make the last sales and purchases before closing their shops and booths for the day.

  The people in town seemed a mostly bright and cheery sort. There was no sign of the rich, upper class that graced the markets in Magnaville, but these people seemed well enough off. Greenfield was one of the minor trading centres of the region, sitting at the crossroads to nearly all the southern roads. Usually, dGerrie would have enjoyed spending time is such a town, but his current reason for being here hung over him adversely.

  Once again, thoughts of abandoning his contract and running across the nearest border flooded his mind. His anxiety returned as he recalled that The Dancer’s most recent contract had been across the Demarian border, and that his reputation was built on the ruthlessly efficient completion of every contract, every hunt. dGerrie did not want to be the focus of the next hunt, especially if Var Toran were to take such a desertion personally.

  Looking around him, dGerrie observed the street for a few moments to get a sense of the mood about town. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and it appeared that their presence here had not caused any alarm among the locals. Obviously, word of the exploits from the last few
days, and the last few villages had not reached this particular town. dGerrie turned for the door of the building, which appeared to be an inn, and entered.

  The smell of food coming from the kitchen, ales being drunk from large mugs, and the general odour of people who had been hard at work for the day, all commingled in dGerrie’s nostrils, momentarily overpowering his senses. Taking off his riding gloves and walking to the bar, dGerrie caught the attention of the woman pouring drinks, and with an upward nod indicated that he wished to speak with her. She held up one finger, signalling she would be with him shortly. After delivering several drinks, she met dGerrie where he stood at the end of the bar.

  “What can I get for you, beer?” the woman asked.

  “No thank you ma'am. But I wonder if you might be able to tell me if you’ve seen someone.” dGerrie hesitated before describing whom he was searching for. Several thoughts flew through his mind. Should I say why I am looking for her? Should I lie and say she’s a friend who’s missing? I don’t want to scare this woman, nor tip off the girl I’m looking for by revealing too much here.

  “I might. I might not. A lot of people come and go through the town, being on the cross roads and all.” replied the woman. She pointed out a fact that made the need for haste that much more important to him. This town sat at the conjunction of several roads leading to and from the Hot Lake, the River South, the River Low, the River High, and the Southern Plains. If the girl did not turn up here, it was likely the search for her would take far more than the fortnight which The Dancer had been given to fulfill this contract. dGerrie did not like the idea of prolonging his time with Var Toran.

  “Well” he began “I’m looking for my cousin. She’s about fifteen years old, but very tall for her age, at least a head taller than I. She has long red hair, she’s half Elvish, and she is likely dressed like a man or in riding clothes. If she passed this way, it would have been earlier today.” He paused as he watched the woman rub her chin pensively. He felt the need to give further plausibility to his search for her, hoping to coax forth some information, or at least the desire to help.

  “I’ve been looking for her for nearly a week since she ran off from my uncle’s farm. You see she thinks she’s old enough to be off on her own, but she’s still a bit naive and likely to get herself in trouble. My aunt is worried sick about her and asked if I’d try to bring her home before she gets herself hurt.”

  The woman nodded along as dGerrie made his inquiry, but as he watched her expression he could see that nothing he was saying evoked any recognition from her.

  “I can’t say I’ve seen anyone that young, nor that tall in here today. But this is one of the bigger towns in the area. You might still find someone who’s seen her. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.” With that the woman returned to her customers.

  dGerrie nodded his thanks to the woman and made his way back out to the road. He decided to check some of the other streets in the town, thinking that someone who knew they were being tracked might choose to steer clear of main areas.

  The garrison commander’s quarters were spartan, but seemed to serve well enough for the man who occupied them. He was a solid looking man with close cropped greying hair and at least a few days worth of stubble. The scars that lined his face accentuated the look of austerity with which he read the letter he held.

  “This is the seal of the Crown. Though I must say I have not previously seen the signature of this new King of ours, I accept the authenticity of this document.” He placed the letter in the hand of one of his officers, and looked at his guest. “So” he continued as he stood “I’m to loan you as many men as you require for a maximum of four days.”

  “Five days” Var Toran interjected “If I am correct about the date of the new moon, which a person who undertakes contracts with such deadlines as I have must be. You shall find that the new moon is on the fourth night from tonight, and should I find this missing girl, I shall require some of these men to transport her to Magnaville on the morning preceding the night of the new moon, which is when, at the latest, my very specific contract requires she be delivered.”

  “Five days.” the commander’s brow furrowed acutely. “Fine. Five days it is. I have twenty men stationed from this outpost. How many do you require?”

  “All of them” replied the bounty hunter, widening his ever-present grin slightly.

  “All of them?” the commander questioned. “Twenty men to bring in one girl?” He leaned his head back and let out gauding laugh “Surely you jest. A man with your reputation needs twenty men to net one girl?” The commander shook his head as he allowed himself a chuckle.

  “And yourself, Commander Tollison. Greenfield is not a small town, and time is of the essence. You and your men shall be compensated over and above your regular pay, as per the instructions in the letter. But we must begin without delay. As you will recall, my reputation includes a perfect record of success. I shall not let today be the day that record receives its first blemish. I trust that your reputation as a capable commander is accurate and well deserved. Please have your men assemble here so that I may instruct them.”

  The commander’s jaw dropped slightly as he came to grips with the seriousness of the bounty hunter’s insistence on the use of the entire garrison. Var Toran turned to exit the commander’s quarters and stopped at the door, looking back at the commander for a moment

  “And as to the test this girl shall provide your men, I’ll tell you that she managed to get the better two professionals who were hired to find her. She did so in the dead of night without the aid of any weapons, and completely in the nude.” He paused to let commander and his aide absorb the information. “Have your men here in one half hour, Commander.” With that, Var Toran left the barracks.

  The back alleys of the town were typical of many villages and towns of the area. Businesses used the rear of their buildings for loading and unloading of wares, as well as disposing of various types of scrap, offal, and rubbish. Often the poorer members of society could be found sifting through the debris for anything edible, or otherwise usable in some way.

  This particular alleyway was a bustling side market of sorts, where the poorer population sold various wares, fruit and vegetables, meats, clothing and trinkets from carts, or from a mat placed on the ground. Were he not here with a specific and time sensitive purpose, dGerrie would normally have enjoyed the stroll through the various peddlers’ makeshift stalls, and likely would have purchased some sort of little souvenir for himself or a friend.

  Stopping here and there, to interrupt the rummaging, or trading, of various people, dGerrie asked frequently if any of them had seen the girl he was looking for. Over the course of half an hour, he had no success. He was quite sure that some of the people he made his inquiries to would have told him they had seen nothing no matter what he had asked. He believed that no one had seen her, as he got the impression that no one was actually lying to him regardless of how little they wanted to indulge his questioning.

  dGerrie felt his stomach begin to growl, as he’d not eaten since his crude breakfast at the inn that morning. A little way down the lane he noticed a small cart with a bit of smoke rising from it. dGerrie recognised it as a street vittler, though he had not yet seen one outside of Magnaville. He made his way to the vendor.

  There were an assortment of meats sizzling on the make-shift grill.

  “How much for chicken?” dGerrie asked, digging his hand in his coin purse for a copper.

  “A half-copper for chicken, a copper for beef or lamb.” replied the man from and toothless mouth on a weathered and dirty face.

  “Chicken please” dGerrie replied handing the man a copper coin “No change please. It smells lovely”

  The man nodded as he took the coin, and with his gnarled hand, lifted one of the skewers and offered it to dGerrie.

  “You’re most kind, sir,” the man offered with smile.

  dGerrie smiled back at the old man.

  “Oh, I’m n
o knight” he chuckled “but your politeness honours me. I wonder if you might help me a little. I’m looking for my cousin who has run away from home, and whose parents have asked me to find her. You see, the poor girl is prone to bouts of depression and has run away before. She is only fifteen years old and my aunt and uncle are worried for her.”

  “Oh” muttered the old man as he listened “run from home you say. And what might she look like, friend?”

  “Ah, well she is quite tall now. Almost a head taller than I, with long red hair. She often dresses in men’s clothes, as she likes to ride and help my uncle with the farm. She may carry a sword, as my uncle’s has gone missing.”

  The man’s face gave a brief sign of recognition when dGerrie described the girl. As dGerrie finished, the man looked him up and down, pausing on the various weapons dGerrie carried. The keen observer could have seen the man’s thought process as he weighed the pros and cons of whether to share his knowledge, or whether to attempt to lead dGerrie astray. Such a quandary was not uncommon for people such as this old man, when in fear of reprisal for failure to share information with people appearing to be of either the noble cast or the military.

  dGerrie read the man’s expression of recognition, and his hesitation, and offered reassurance.

  “I assure you, good friend, that I am indeed this poor girl’s cousin, and mean only to speak with her to urge her to return home to her loving and worried parents. Please, if you have seen her, point me to her.”

  The man looked at dGerrie, and then turned his head and nodded toward the corral a couple of buildings down the alley. dGerrie placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, another copper in his hand, and nodded his thanks.

  He took a bite of the skewer and marvelled and the pleasant flavours as he walked toward the stables the man had indicated. As he made his way to the corral, dGerrie looked to the west to see the sun nearing the horizon.