Crown of Vengeance fie-1

by Stephen Zimmer

  “He flew with you up there today,” the youth said with a flare of excitement, pointing up towards the sky. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the light of stars and moon. “You cannot fly by yourself, like he can, at least not yet.”

  “Oh… so you saw me on those… what are they called? The winged creatures?” Janus replied, leaning back to rest on his elbows.

  “The Bregas? They are really good animals. They have strong spirits. Very strong. They have been good steeds for the people of the villages. They have always been with this land,” the youth replied enthusiastically.

  “They were amazing to fly on. We have nothing like them where I am from. At first I was pretty scared to get on them, but at the end I did not want to leave,” Janus replied, his thoughts going back to the thrilling sensations that he had experienced earlier in the day. His heartbeat picked up a few beats in the mere remembrance of the rush of vivid emotion that he had felt while soaring over the forested hills.

  “Trouble is coming, Janus,” the youth then said, in an abruptly serious tone.

  Janus looked over, and saw that the boy’s expression had grown very dour all of a sudden. The blunt change in the youth’s demeanor gripped Janus’ attention and concern at once.

  “What do you mean?” Janus asked, wondering further at the rather brusque shift in the young boy.

  As with the end of their conversation the previous night, the boy’s tone carried a hint of maturity that belied his seeming age. Janus wondered if the youth was about to suddenly vanish as well.

  “Trouble. Great trouble. And I just know it,” the youth replied sadly, but firmly, as if to head off an expected question coming from Janus.

  The boy had indeed guessed correctly, as Janus had just been about to ask the boy how he had come to know of imminent trouble. Janus paused for a moment, considering his words carefully.

  “What kind of trouble is coming?” Janus finally asked.

  “Where you were today,” the youth said gloomily, looking skyward. The sparkle that had been in his eye now looked like the glistening of sadness. “It will come from up there. Be watchful. Your friends will need you. You must be ready to move. The people of the village cannot protect you from all danger.”

  Janus followed the youth’s sorrowful gaze on up into the star-speckled sky. At the moment, the majestic vision looked as if it was incapable of harboring anything that would put the village even remotely at harm. Such was the strength of the peaceful presence that it was emanating.

  Looking away from the sky, Janus turned back towards the youth. His breath caught in his chest. Once again, the young boy had suddenly disappeared. Janus grew silent and turned his head swiftly in each direction. There was no trace of him anywhere that his searching eyes roved.

  “Again!” Janus remarked in sharp frustration, shaking his head in disbelief at the child’s evasiveness. “Or I’m finally losing my mind.”

  After waiting a little while longer to see whether or not the child would return, Janus finally roused himself and got back to his feet. With a last glance around, he walked back to the entrance to the longhouse, pushed aside the hide flap covering it, and entered.

  As he made his way back through the chambers, he doubted that he would be getting a lot of sleep. Only time would tell whether or not the young boy’s warning had any truth to it, but in this strange new world Janus was not about to discount the youth’s words entirely.

  AELFRIC

  The great Ealdorman Aelfric’s ebon war steed Midnight galloped thunderously down the long line of tents. The stallion was heading directly towards the center of the encampment, carrying its prominent rider, followed by several others in the Ealdorman’s retinue. Bystanders were careful to give the hurrying contingent a wide berth, backing out of their pathway well before the horses reached them.

  Aelfric was riding farther away from the westward-most line of defensive encampment preparations, which were being prepared at pressing haste by engineers and many thousands of soldiers and non-combatants.

  Aelfric’s authority was not one to be questioned anywhere within the huge encampment. King Alcuin’s greatest general, designated as the sovereign’s majordomo, he had directly received the supreme command of the gathering Saxan forces from the king himself.

  The day’s inspection had been thorough, and deemed satisfactory, as Aelfric and his entourage completed their survey of the western length of the encampment. The outer defenses were being put into place at a relentless pace, to ensure its full completion well before the arrival of the enemy forces. Virtually every tool or weapon that could find a good use was being employed in the massive amalgamation of digging and ground removal.

  Time was no luxury. If anything, it was a baleful adversary.

  Scouts ranging beyond the outlying sentry posts had indicated that the vanguard of a staggeringly vast enemy force was finally approaching the plains. The marching juggernaut was estimated to be only a few scant days away.

  The invasion army had paused for some time within the borders of Ehrengard, the delay presumably for acclimating and resting the steeds that had traveled far distances to join the diverse force. Now that the enormous invasion force was on the move again, it was certain that the time of battle was drawing very close.

  Aelfric was determined to see that the enemy would find a Saxan wall resolutely facing them when they arrived. It was all the culmination of a few months of great anxiety, thorough preparation, and a very rapid response.

  The very first whispers of an impending war had come from Saxan agents traveling deep within Ehrengard’s cities and ports. They had lingered long after trade had been formally cut off between Saxany and Ehrengard, declared by the Sacred Emperor after the final rejection of the Unifier’s overtures to King Alcuin.

  Supplies and foodstuffs had begun pouring into Ehrengard just a few months after. The arrival of numerous ships from Avanor, loaded with horses, siege equipment, knights, and other martial elements heralded the existence of dark intentions by the Unifier towards Ehrengard’s eastern neighbor.

  The mustering of large forces within Ehrengard had also been initiated during that time. Summons to military service had been dispatched from the Sacred Emperor himself, to nobles everywhere across the lands. Ehrengard’s forces had soon begun to assemble in great numbers close to Esenshild, a large city located not far from Saxany’s westernmost borders.

  The levies of their great princes and war-like bishops had streamed in right before the eyes of Saxany’s diligent spies. The Saxans had quickly perceived that they were not gathering to be placed upon ships, but were massing near to one singular road that was ideal for the movement of a great army; a road that led directly east towards Saxany.

  The signs were obvious, and the interpretations undeniable, but at least the warnings had been long in coming.

  Trade had been declining between Ehrengard and Saxany ever since the rise of the Unifier. It had come as no surprise to the wiser Ealdormen such as Aelfric, and the Counts of Saxany, when it had dried up completely at the firm dictate of the Sacred Emperor. The Saxan leaders had adroitly anticipated what was to come, and in their foresight had sent more spies west before the borders between the two lands were all but sealed.

  Those spies had taken careful account of everything that they saw. Some periodically returned with extensive updates, traversing dangerous and well-patrolled border regions to bring their highly valuable messages back.

  Countless amounts of grain, salted meat, wine and ale barrels, and masses of livestock had been gathered in the eastern territories of Ehrengard, as well as innumerable wagons, carts, and pack animals.

  Some stories brought back by the spies told of incredible piles of grain that were so large that they resembled small hills. The surfaces of these ‘hills’ were even said to sprout a covering of new growths, only to have their surfaces skimmed to reveal freshly kept grains harbored just underneath.

  The hills of grain, and every other thing being gathered in imm
ense quantity, were all acute, unmistakable signs of preparations for an invasion.

  It had soon become clear to the Saxan leaders that the enormous buildup had not been intended to be a secret either, as emissaries of both Ehrengard and the Unifier had arrived in Saxany for a last audience with the King. Aelfric and a couple of the great Counts happened to be in Aixen when that momentous event had occurred. It happened at a time when many councils were being held in Aixen, in regard to the growing mass of storm clouds within Ehrengard.

  As Aelfric thought back to that decisive day, he could still remember the look of utter, incredulous shock splayed upon the emissaries’ faces, when King Alcuin had firmly refused the mandate to pledge Saxany’s loyalty, or more accurately its submission, to the Unifier.

  That moment was forever emblazoned in Aelfric’s mind, as that very instant might very well have sounded the end of their proud and free kingdom.

  The staunch rejection had taken place right within the King’s great reception hall at Aixen. The incensed emissaries dispatched by the Unifier, from Avanor and Ehrengard, had then told King Alcuin that war was unavoidable. They had boasted that Saxany would be conquered and occupied by the Unifier in due time, and that King Alcuin would not stand in the way of the prosperity and order that was being guided out of Avanor.

  The emissaries had been unceremoniously escorted out of the hall, whisked away brusquely by the King’s royal houseguard. Aelfric had taken a little pleasure in the emissaries’ rough treatment, as they had entered so haughtily, and with such ultimate ill-intent towards everything that Saxany was.

  For once in his life, Aelfric was not bothered by such a stark violation of decorum. It had been about all that Aelfric could do to refrain from drawing his own blade and striking at the arrogant emissaries.

  Word had then been sent quickly of the incident and the King’s response, by both airborne and ground steeds, to all parts of the Saxan Kingdom. Parchments bearing the seals of Ealdormen and Counts came back to Aixen with great alacrity, bearing their various responses.

  The great Ealdormen and Counts of the land had been unanimous in their support of the King, as had the Gitawan, the great council serving Alcuin.

  All seven of the kingdom’s Ealdormen and its four great Counts had swiftly pledged their unequivocal support. They had then turned to the immediate tasks facing them, to begin the enormous and extensive summons that would be required to prepare for the expected response from the Unifier.

  Hill-top beacons were lit, while innumerable couriers traversed paths and roads all throughout the kingdom. It was to be a momentous time for the most ancient of obligations, a calling out of all the lands’ able-bodied males to share in a collective defense of the kingdom itself.

  The mustering of invasion forces to the west had also accelerated. The surge of the massing had come so fast that it was clear that the Unifier was prepared for, and probably had anticipated, King Alcuin’s response.

  Ehrengard had then sealed off the border region, even to the most daring and adventurous of Saxany’s hardy spies. Sky patrols, mounted patrols, and teeming numbers of warriors on foot had clamped down on all traffic between Saxany and Ehrengard, and many courageous spies had lost their lives in attempts to get final word out of Ehrengard.

  Before all word had been shut off completely, a dire and portentous tiding had arrived in Saxany. Though ominous, the word had been fortuitous, as it allowed the Saxans to perceive the full scope of what was facing them. One of the last spies to make it out of Ehrengard had reported the arrival of an enormous fleet that hailed from neither Avanor nor Ehrengard. The foreign fleet had included many huge, three-masted ships, of a size virtually incomprehensible to a Saxan.

  The vessels carried along with them a multitudinous array of unusual foreigners, horses, and even a horde of strange, hump-backed beasts. They were rumored to have come from far to the north, and their presence in addition to the building forces from Avanor and Ehrengard took the threat facing Saxany to an unprecedented level.

  The final word concerning the third mass of enemy forces ensured that the Unifier was not hesitating to summon everything that could be brought to bear upon the western border areas of the Saxan Kingdom. Every ounce of strength had to be applied in defense if the Saxan Kingdom was to have any hope of stopping the titanic invasion.

  Everything was converging towards a final resolution, as the powerful, massive forces of the enemy trod towards the Saxan encampments out on the Plains of Aethelney.

  Flanked by several elite warriors of his household guard, Aelfric turned Midnight aside and cut between a group of bell-shaped tents. The stallion cantered towards a large, pavilion-sized structure that had been erected near the center of the cluster.

  Bringing the war horse to an abrupt halt, Aelfric swiveled and jumped down to the ground with a smoothness and agility that belied his age. Though his years said that he should have been beyond his physical prime, he still held onto his vitality with a tenacious grasp.

  Aelfric strode towards the great tent without waiting for his immediate companions to dismount and catch up to him. His mind was fixated upon the priorities immediately facing him, no easy task at the apex of such a vast war campaign.

  Inside the tent were several familiar figures, many of whom were reassuring presences, quite welcome sights to his eyes. One individual to the left, though, immediately provoked a sense of annoyance, though the conceited man would undeniably serve an important part in the overall Saxan strategy. All the figures nodded respectfully at Aelfric’s entrance, and he acknowledged them with a nod.

  “Godric, I see that you have arrived as well,” Aelfric stated rather brusquely, to the man standing to his left. “I was not sure whether you got our message, for our courier reported that he was unable to gain a direct audience at your fortress.”

  Though the words were polite, the tone was unmistakably accusing. Aelfric stifled his anger as best as he could. There was no time for pretensions, even though Aelfric expected Godric to suspend his usual arrogance in the face of the deadly wave sweeping towards all of them.

  The man being addressed inclined his head. About an inch taller than Aelfric, but more slender of girth, Godric put forth a regal posture about himself, even though he held no throne. His cold, calculating eyes never appeared to look at a person directly, and his small mouth seemed forever set in tension.

  Aelfric neither liked Godric nor wanted to have to depend upon him in any way. Godric was beholden to nobody, and the detached weighing of interests would seem to favor the greater strength and wealth of the western lands. Despite the inner misgivings that Aelfric felt, it was undeniable that Godric occupied a most important position in relation to Saxany’s current situation.

  A substantial fortress belonging to Godric guarded the territory to the immediate south of where the narrow passage of land from Ehrengard to Saxany opened out onto the Plains of Aethelney.

  Godric had always enjoyed engaging in solid trade with both Saxany and its neighbor, Ehrengard, a benefit that still continued as his lands were alloidal. A few small farming villages and a smattering of homesteads existed within his free-held land, which was not under the direct authority of either kingdom.

  The trade with Saxany was still dangerous for Godric to undertake, as the Saxan lands were currently being barred from transacting commerce with anyone who did not wish to be deemed an enemy of the Unifier.

  That Godric still traded with Saxany was the very source of Aelfric’s lingering hopes. Perhaps Godric would honor the kingdom that had made his land holding possible.

  There was also a certain irony to all of it, one that Aelfric had not missed in the least. As Godric had increased his trade with Ehrengard, he had kept the trade with Saxany more discreet. The irony was simply that Ehrengard had once been an outright enemy to the specific King who had first bestowed the lands that Godric now occupied.

  Godric’s lands, as Aelfric knew, hailed back to a heroic and honorable lord of the Fourth
Era of Ave’s history, Conrad the Ironheart. Conrad the Ironheart had rebelled in those days against the unstable, continuously agitating nobility of Ehrengard. It had all transpired during an age when the lands of Saxany were two separate kingdoms. Fleeing eastward, Conrad had sought refuge, beseeching the ruler of the former southern and eastern kingdom, Clovis II.

  Not only refuge had been granted, but lands with nominal suzerainty had been given over to him. They were part of the greater buffer zones on the western edge of the southern kingdom, located just to the south of the primary Western Marches. The dominion over that land had evolved into a freehold by the time that the two realms had been united into the Kingdom of Saxany.

  Godric, however, was not of the line of Conrad the Ironheart. He had been the most senior among the household warriors of the last direct descendent of Conrad’s line, a man named Pepin. He had claimed to have been given the inheritance by Pepin, though no written charter had ever been produced to confirm the claim. Strengthening Godric’s position, most of the prominent warriors surrounding Pepin had supported his assertion.

  King Alcuin, out of a strong-held belief in honor, had taken Godric at his word. Even so, the circumstances of Pepin’s death had been shrouded in dark rumors, a point that had never faded out of Aelfric’s mind or suspicions.

  It was a point driven further home within Aelfric when Godric had subsequently purged a small number of Pepin’s household warriors. Aelfric had regarded all of the purged warriors to be good and decent men, and the purge had left a bitter, black taste in Aelfric’s mouth; and a potent, lasting suspicion.

  Yet it was not Aelfric’s place to question his king, no matter what the thoughts were that went through his own mind. Those thoughts had never seemed to ebb, though, and were brought back to the forefront whenever Aelfric looked upon the darting, shifting gaze of Godric.

  “Yes, Ealdorman Aelfric. I received your request. I could see that my presence here was of some importance to you. I came with haste, as we all know that there is little time to spare,” Godric replied politely, though his offered smile held little warmth in it.