"Yes, I know," said Lockwell. "Yet, you will have a part to play in his downfall. Success in war is to place the soldiers where their strengths may be brought to bear. That is why you are with me. Now, pay attention. There is much we must discuss before the Turucks take control of the castle."
"There is something you should know; Edward has imprisoned Prince Kal of Masina."
"He is here?"
"King Kennis sent him for help and to keep him out of the Turuck's hands. I think King Kennis expected to die and needed the prince to survive for the future of Masina."
"He is right. A king must stand with his people even as the darkness washes over them. It is a great loss. Kennis had great appreciation for art and music. He left his mark on Masina culture."
"We must rescue him," said Quink.
"Kennis? No, he is beyond our aid."
"No, Prince Kal."
"Oh, we shall, we shall. I am thinking on it already. So Edward has found all your tunnels?"
"I believe so. It was Tucker and his men. It was fun while it lasted."
"Oh, it is not over yet, Quink. There are more tunnels you have not found and there is where you shall keep Prince Kal safe. I believe you will also find the Turucks to be superstitious as well as Edward. Long may your ghost haunt this castle. Come, let us move quickly and remove Prince Kal from his plight before the Turucks come and we must keep to our tunnels."
He smiled grimly at Quink and patted the little man's head.
"Let us rid King Hal's castle of vermin."
"That I can do," smiled Quink.
Chapter 14
Masina lies over a short mountain range to the east of Eslenda. It is a country built on trade and its culture. The kings of Masina have fostered a thriving artistic industry. The Masine artists exported their tapestries, pottery and sculptures across the Inner Sea to Anavar and have brought great prestige to their kingdom. Artists have risen to ranks of noblemen and the Guilds wield much influence in the Masine marketplaces. A class of people have risen who appreciate the less tangible parts of life and even their army transformed into a company that teach the finer rules of swordplay and chivalry.
In the past disagreements with Eslenda led to minor skirmishes but in these days the Masine soldiers would not fight with the bloodlust of their forefathers. It would be a battle of skill and dexterity, of finesse and strategy. In short, Masina no longer clung to the old notion of war. The discipline of War was elevated to Art.
The Masina soldiers waited as the sun set. As the shadows crept forward the soldiers became agitated. They could not see into the darkness but they sensed their enemy was there. One soldier shot an arrow into the shadows rolling up the hillside. They heard a muffled cry and then a black arrow rose from the shadows and struck the Masine archer in the throat. The sun set and shapes appeared out of the darkness running at full speed. The cries of the Turucks filled the air.
Duke Berna saw his soldiers hit the oncoming line of the Turucks and the slaughter began. The concussion of the battle shook the ground. The clang of steel filled the air, cries and screams followed soon after. His men fought valiant but the crushing onslaught overwhelmed them. The Masine soldiers were trained for tactical methods utilizing their sword skill. The brute force of the endless numbers of Turucks was a disaster for which they were not prepared. Each time they stopped the Turucks, from behind the first line of Turucks another surge roared up and overwhelmed them. The battle cries of the Turucks filled the air and the thuds of the heavy war hammers endless. The Turucks already routed Duke Gilber's division and Berna could see Gilber's head on the pike even at this distance. Berna felt his age; he was a generation older than Duke Gilber and King Kennis held him back until the last resort. Let the young lions fight the battle. Berna sensed the odds of victory decrease with each surge of the Turuck army. If they failed to hold the Turucks here, Masina would fall. No help came from Eslenda. Berna knew of Edward and from what he knew, he guessed Eslenda would never send help to Masina. Masina would topple and Eslenda would fall next and Berna would be glad of Edward's fall although Berna would not live to see it.
A great cry rose as Turucks overran the left flank. They flowed over the ground and used the hammer and anvil to force the Masine army back against itself. Berna felt the hollowness of his insides twist with each blow of the Turuck war hammers. Berna recognized the inevitable result. His jaw set and his hand moved to his sword hilt, grasping it tightly. He would miss Masina in the autumn. He loved the cool breezes and the falling red and yellow leaves. His late wife enjoyed walking with him in that season of the year. They had first met on autumn years ago. He could even smell her perfume on this final day. He signaled his herald to ask for terms.
Sir Norman watched from a distance as Tag Makk approached the Masine military leaders. He shook his head, knowing what was coming. The words did not carry to him but he saw Tag Makk's war hammer rise and fall. Sir Norman thought it a waste of valuable resources, especially Duke Berna. He had fought with and against Berna in their time. Berna had been a gallant and honorable man. Now he was just another corpse.
Sir Norman found it difficult to remain out of the battle; his blood had begun to run hot again. Tag Makk claimed he could not allow him in battle for fear of his safety. Tag Makk said he wanted Sir Norman to kill the Eslendian usurper Henry, and did not want anything to spoil that. He knew Tag Makk better than that now.
The situation had changed. Henry was dead, reputed murdered by Hal but that was out of character for Hal. And Edward claimed the throne. The stupid fool. Edward has put Eslenda in jeopardy. Civil war would hamper their defense and the Turucks will roll over Eslenda. Edward would pull Eslenda down into the pit. Tag Makk will claim it and not relinquish control. Sir Norman had glimpses of Tag Makk's black soul and he feared for the people of Eslenda. Sir Norman's hope was Hal could win back the throne before the Turucks invaded and unify all the military strength of Eslenda. That was looking unlikely with the speed of the Masine surrender. Sir Norman had no hope of Edward withstanding Tag Makk, but Hal might, and James would, he was sure. The legend of Prince James grew daily. Even Tag Makk had heard of James' prowess.
Sir Norman no longer held the illusion that he could take the throne of Eslenda for himself. Tag Makk would rule and if Sir Norman sat on the Eslenda throne, it would be as a puppet ruler. The bitter taste he carried all the way to Penarol had worsened since joining the Turucks and it surprised him. He found no relief and indeed, he increased his private pain and brought a new evil to Eslenda. Edward was his grandson, son of Queen Mary Oswald Islen. It should have been a joyous development, but the boy was not only a fool like his uncle Charles, but mean and cruel. Sir Norman decided he would still kill the king of Eslenda, even if it were Edward he killed for the kingship, although the pleasure it would bring had long since fled. No, he made his choice and would follow it to the end.
Norman thought about his children, Charles and Mary. He just called Charles a fool and meant it. How had it come to this? How did Mary come to marry Henry Islen? Norman hated Henry's politicking and his treachery to claim the throne for himself. And it was bitter when Mary married him. Norman did not attend the wedding; he was working on his plans to overthrow Henry. He did not anticipate Henry sending John Plucker to kill him. It was a near thing. Plucker put his sword through Norman's side, but he was too quick and strong for the big man. Norman fell backward off the point of Plucker's sword and drove his own into the big man's knee. Norman left Eslenda and had not returned in all the years, although he visited Masina often to gather news. Masina became a favored destination.
Now here he was again, watching a beloved friend hacked to bits and trampled by a vile creature. The cultured treasures of Masina would be ground under Tag Makk's boot. It was not the first time he regretted his decision to join Tag Makk.
The gates of the castle opened and King Kennis boldly stepped down the steps to meet Tag Makk. He carried his sword in his hand and a torch in the other. He had long passe
d middle years and his stomach hung over his belt. He was sweating. He spoke out clear and loud. There was no fear in his voice.
"I am Kennis, King of Masina! You are not wanted here, creatures of the dark. This is a city of light. Leave or I shall end your life."
"Brave words," said Tag Makk, softly. "I admire you, Kennis. I can see in your face that you realize the outcome is against you, yet your courage is peerless. It is unfortunate that your head will soon be adorning the gates of this city." Tag Makk moved forward.
"Bow to me and I shall let your son rule under me," said Tag Makk.
"To the contrary, Tag Makk. You bow to me, and your men may return home unbound."
"Ha, you are sharp with your words, King Kennis. My goal is nothing less than conquest of the world. All must fall under my hammer."
"We do not wish to, Tag Makk. We are a kingdom at peace and a people of peace. Our world is one of art and beauty, is that what you want to destroy?"
Tag Makk's face contorted in rage and he shook it off.
"King Kennis. The time for this discussion is ended. Come here and face your fate. Call your son, Kal, out of hiding. He must share your fate. Come, I do not have the time to barter with fools."
Kennis' face flushed and he moved forward.
Kennis thrust his sword and danced aside but the huge Turuck was too quick. The war hammer thudded into Kennis' side, the air hissed out of him and he crumpled to the ground. Tag Makk lifted him with one hand and threw him to the shadow runners who beheaded Kennis before Tag Makk had turned back to the others who followed Kennis out of the castle.
"Where is the Prince?"
"He is not here," said a man.
"Not here?" asked Tag Makk softly. "Does anyone know where he might be?"
No one answered. Tag Makk walked to the person closest to him and crushed the man's skull with his hammer. Blood and brain matter splattered on the others next to him.
"Well?"
One man stepped forward and prostrated himself before Tag Makk.
"King Kennis sent him to Eslenda," replied the man. "I heard him tell the prince to get as far from Masina as possible until he could return with an army to defeat you."
"I see." Tag Makk casually motioned for Salie to attend to him.
"Yes, Overlord?"
"Send a squad of Shadow Runners after the prince. I want him returned - alive. Get a description of the prince from that talkative fool, and then kill him."
"It shall be done," said Salie.
Later Tag Makk dined in his tent. Norman Oswald and Salie sat at his feet and ate with him. Machel stood silently.
"Turuck scouts say Eslenda is not ready for war," said Tag Makk. "I thought you'd be pleased to hear that."
"It disgusts me," said Sir Norman. "Even Henry would've have been ready to fight. Edward is a fool and unworthy of my blade."
"I believe you. However, you wanted to kill the king and you shall have that chance. Then I shall rule Eslenda with you as regent."
"Who rules in Masina?"
"Ah, expanding your grasp already? I care not. If you wish it, it is yours."
"You are most generous, Tag Makk."
"Yes, I am. And you best figure out why." He chuckled to himself. "More wine for Sir Norman. He has much to celebrate!"
Norman sipped his wine in silence. From time to time, he looked at Salie's face. The General did not share Tag Makk's mirth and seemed to keep his thoughts hidden. Norman had seen enough courtiers to know when something festered inside a person.
Later, Salie left the room. Norman waited a couple minutes, and then strolled out into the castle hallways. The Turucks had not defaced the paintings on the walls and Norman found a couple of his favorites still hanging in the guest wing. He pretended not to notice the figure standing in the shadows while Norman looked closely at a painting.
"You like the painting, Sir Norman?" asked Salie. He stepped out of the shadows, the scars on his face made into jagged mountains ranges by the veiled light.
"Yes, it is a favorite of mine. I haven't been here in a while and I hoped to see it again."
"You were afraid we would destroy it as we have in so many other cities?"
"Yes, Salie, I admit I was surprised that nothing has been destroyed."
"It was by my order, although I do not know how long it will stand before Tag Makk overrules me." Salie sighed, closed his eyes and looked upward.
"You? You stopped the destruction?"
"I, too, appreciate the fine skill necessary to create that painting. It speaks to me somehow, but I do not know what it says."
"You are risking your life," said Norman.
"Perhaps, but I cannot watch this destruction of life anymore. We Turucks once had a proud culture in the early years of Tag Makk, but now it is failing. We rebuild nothing that is not tainted by the evil of Tag Makk. We are creatures of darkness. Once we were creatures of light."
"I noticed that few Daerlan influences survive."
"That is true. Tag Makk does not want any visible signs of our heritage to remain."
"Tag Makk or the golden casket at his feet?"
"Sir Norman, let me speak frankly. The Menaloch is what you should fear with all your heart and soul. It is a soul eater and my grandmother told me tales of such a thing in the long past before we sundered from the Daerlan. If you are wise, you will flee at your first chance."
"Will you let me go?"
"I will, but the Shadow Runners will not. The soul eater already devoured them and they see with the Menaloch's eyes. You are not safe here."
"What about you?" asked Norman. "You must leave too."
"I am a Turuck and I stand will the Turucks."
"The Menaloch will destroy you all. Destroy it first."
"I will admit the thought crossed my mind, but it is not easily done. Often Tag Makk looks at me with eyes that tell me he senses my thoughts. He has been less cordial of late. I fear my time is drawing short."
"I will help you," said Norman.
"Ah, Sir Norman, I wish it would be so. But I am old and the Menaloch's presence has aged me even more. I cannot defeat Tag Makk and his Shadow Runners, I can only defy him in small ways and I do not even know if my deceits bother him at all. And there is Machel. The half-breed watches me constantly. His blood must be mostly Celaeri. I don't trust him. I would rather Tag Makk rule the world than the Celaeri return to darken it."
"I will not leave without you."
"A foolish choice."
"Perhaps, but I will see this journey to its end."
"Pray it isn't your end, too."
"I am a man with much to live for, Salie. I believe you can say the same once the ash is clean from your eyes."
"I cannot dare to hope that you are right, Sir Norman. But I can hope to dare. That I can do."
They stood together admiring the painting before them.
Chapter 15
"I hate the sea," gasped Dvorak Annis. The large man hung over the wood rail. "My stomach is going to empty!"
"Again?" asked Elberra Turan. "There can't be anything left."
"Do not underestimate him," said Kerreth. "Dvorak is a man of infinite surprises."
"Especially if you stand next to him," said Moria Albalen. She rinsed her leg again. "Disgusting. Good thing I tie off the tops of my boots."
"You have me at less than my best," said Dvorak.
"Indeed?" said Moria. "Please reacquaint us with your best as soon as you can."
"Moria, have some compassion for the poor fellow," said Kerreth. "He is a member of our company."
"Yes, yes. All right. Pull yourself together when you can, Dvorak," said Moria. "I will try to be patient and I will stand elsewhere until you regain control of your stomach again."
Kerreth shook his head and watched their heading. Gorm Talos manned the tiller with Taina and Hobart up in the rigging to help tacking to change direction. The choppy sea hindered Dvorak and the darkening clouds told the tale of an approaching storm.
"We should have borrowed some fishing poles," said Kerreth. "Far better having fish than this dry tack."
"Don't say fish!" said Dvorak.
"Really!" said Elberra. "One would think you hadn't sailed before."
"I have, but shallow, calm waters." His face tinged green again.
"Well, no fish for Dvorak," said Moria.
"Nor us, no fishing poles," said Kerreth.
"There are some tied to the rail in the stern," said Elberra. "If you had asked me, I could have told you."
"Thank you for taking pity on us," said Kerreth.
"Pity? You know I have no pity for anyone."
"Sarcasm," said Moria. "Remember, we've talked about it before."
"And for centuries, Elberra," said Gorm. "You're lucky you remember our names. Actually, I'm surprised you do."
"The old man, is he important?" asked Elberra, arching an eyebrow. "Have I killed him before?"
"I'm going fishing and no one will bother me," said Kerreth. "I need to be alone with my thoughts."
"That will be lonely," said Moria. "Hallo, hallo, halloo… Quite the echo."
"Thank you very much," said Kerreth.
The next hour was uneventful, Kerreth did not get a bite and Elberra did not kill anyone. Dvorak's stomach settled down and he ate some stale bread. He sat against the mast with Blackthorne who still appeared asleep. The seas rose but not greatly and the dark clouds delayed their arrival.
"A couple more hours without the storm and we'll be off the coast of Amloth and out of danger," said Gorm.
"Riding the coast in a storm is not easy," said Kerreth.
"Ah, you speak truth, however, we could swim to shore if the boats breaks up, and that was my thought."
The Ghost Of Eslenda (Book 1) Page 14