Defender of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  "Perhaps," said Kargen, "but we will not know for sure unless we can save him. He looks to have suffered quite a few burns."

  "He is young, is he not?” asked Laruhk.

  “He is,” agreed Kargen. “Only twenty years of age, if I am not mistaken. Not even old enough to have a full beard, see how patchy it is?”

  “Even more so with his burns,” noted Laruhk. “It is a shame that Uhdrig is not here to heal him.”

  “Then we must transport him,” said Kargen.

  Laruhk turned to his companion with a look of surprise, "Are you suggesting we take him back to our village?"

  "How else would we save him?"

  "But we cannot," Laruhk objected. "A Human has never entered Ord-Kurgad."

  "There is a first time for everything," stated Kargen, "and I will not leave him here to die, unless you have a better suggestion?"

  "No, I do not," said Laruhk.

  "Then, it is settled. Now, how do we move him?"

  Laruhk swept his gaze around the remains of Athelwald. "We could carry him dangling from a pole?"

  "Very well, let us bind his hands and feet, then slip a pole between them. We shall carry him back like a prize deer. It will allow us to move swiftly."

  Kargen pulled strips of leather from his satchel and bound Athgar's arms and legs firmly while Laruhk dug around the ruins of the village, finally returning with a spear.

  "How about this?" offered Laruhk.

  "It will have to do," said Kargen, "for we have little else."

  They threaded the pole between Athgar's arms and legs then hefted him into the air, each Orc bearing one end of the spear.

  "He is lighter than I expected," said Laruhk.

  "He is a Human," reminded Kargen. "They are slighter of frame than us. We must remember that he is not as hardy as an Orc, so try not to jostle him too much."

  They began moving eastward, soon clearing the remains of Athelwald, and making their way towards home.

  * * *

  Sometime later, they came into view of the palisade that marked their home. They were spotted almost immediately, and Kargen recognized the two Orcs that ran out to meet them.

  "What have we here?" asked Korsune.

  "It is a Therengian," declared Kargen. "We found him in the ruins of his village."

  "Is he alive?" asked Durgash.

  "He is," confirmed Laruhk, "though he is badly burned. He will need the healing touch of Uhdrig."

  Korsune stood still, looking at the Human suspended from the spear.

  "What are you waiting for?" asked Kargen. "My arms are tired."

  "We cannot take him into Ord-Kurgad," defended Durgash, "it is forbidden."

  "This is Athgar of the Therengians," Kargen reminded him. "Have you forgotten the arrows he has made for you over the years?"

  "No, but Gorlag will not be happy."

  "Gorlag can kiss my ancestors."

  "Kargen," Durgash admonished, "you cannot speak that way of our chieftain."

  "Help or get out of our way," warned Kargen. "I shall take responsibility for everything."

  "Very well," said Durgash. "Korsune, grab the other end."

  They transferred their burden, and then all four Orcs continued on. The palisade ran around the entire perimeter, save for a small gap. To cover this, a secondary wall had been constructed outside of the main wall, forcing everyone to walk parallel to the wall for some distance before entering.

  They passed through quickly, revealing the village beyond. Huts made of wood and mud were built close to the palisade, leaving a large fire pit in the centre, much like the Therengians. The structures themselves, however, differed significantly. In place of the small dwelling of the Humans, Ord-Kurgad was more communal in nature, for the vast majority of the Orcs lived in longhouses that held anywhere from twenty to fifty hunters. Only the old Orcs, or those who had bonded, lived in smaller huts. The largest one of all was that of the chieftain, the mighty Gorlag, who was exiting the building, lured, no doubt, by the commotion.

  "What is the meaning of this?" he called out.

  "It is a Human," offered Laruhk, as the party halted.

  "I can see that," replied the chieftain, "but what is he doing here? It is forbidden!"

  "He is injured," defended Kargen, "and requires the help of our shaman. Where is Uhdrig?"

  The old shamaness stepped out from behind Gorlag. "I am here," she said, moving towards Athgar. The Orcs carrying him lowered his body to the ground and removed the pole while she knelt by the Therengian, casting her eyes over his wounds.

  The chieftain opened his mouth to speak but was forestalled by the shamaness, who raised her hands, taking the attention from him. "What happened here?" she asked.

  "His village was attacked," explained Laruhk, "and we found him in the ashes."

  "You say you found him in the ashes?" repeated Uhdrig.

  "Yes," said Kargen, "that is right. Why? Is it important?"

  In answer, she returned her attention to the Therengian. She pulled out a knife, slicing through the bonds that held his wrists and ankles together.

  The chief, Gorlag, moved closer, his shadow falling across Athgar. "He must be taken from here immediately!" he ordered.

  "No," objected Uhdrig, "he is marked by fire."

  There was a collective gasp from the assembled Orcs.

  "Surely you are mistaken," said Gorlag, "it cannot be!"

  "Do you doubt my proclamation?" asked the shamaness.

  "No, of course not," said the chieftain, "but he is a Human."

  "Human or not, he has the mark." She pointed with her finger. "See how his burns already begin to heal?"

  "But-"

  "But nothing, Gorlag," she retorted. "You know our ways as well as I. We cannot refuse one who has been marked by flame, it is the very essence of our tribe."

  "Those rules only apply to Orcs," objected Gorlag.

  In answer, the shamaness raised Athgar's right hand. "Can you not see the blood-encrusted on his hand? He has been marked as a member of this tribe. Where is Artoch? He is the master of flame, he can tell us more."

  "Very well," said Gorlag, turning to those behind him. "Go and fetch him, he will see the wisdom in my orders."

  A couple of hunters ran off to locate the master of flame while the others turned back to the body before them.

  "Will you heal him?" asked Kargen

  "I shall," replied Uhdrig, "but it is not for me to decide whether we expel him. That will be the decision of the tribe."

  "What have we found?" called out a voice. A relatively short Orc pushed his way forward, his light green skin in stark contrast to those around him.

  "Master Artoch," said Uhdrig in greeting. "Come, tell us what you think of this... Human."

  The master of flame knelt, lowering his head to examine the burns on Athgar. "He lives," he announced, "though he should, by all rights, be dead."

  "He was found in ashes," offered the shamaness.

  He looked to her in surprise, "Found in ashes, and yet alive. This is the mark of one touched by fire. Can you heal him?"

  "I can," she admitted, "though it will take some time. The skin must be regenerated. It will take several days at the very least."

  "We must first determine his fate," declared Gorlag.

  "And so we shall," replied the master of flame, "but he must be fit to stand trial."

  "Trial?" asked Kargen.

  "Yes," said Artoch, "the tribe will sit in judgement to determine if he will stay or be banished."

  "Very well," said Gorlag, "we shall let our... guest recover from his wounds. In three days, we will determine his fate. In the meantime, who will speak on his behalf?"

  "I will," declared Kargen, meeting the chieftain's stare with a steely gaze.

  "Very well," Gorlag replied, "and I shall speak against him. The will of the tribe will decide what is to be done with this Human."

  * * *

  The sword struck downward, cutting into the wood.
Athgar felt the shudder as the bow absorbed the blow, narrowly missing his fingers. The rider's massive horse forced him back.

  As his vision blurred, he saw his sister, Ethwyn, staggering forward, blood pouring from her forehead. Another rider loomed over her, striking her down with the flat of his blade.

  Again a blur, and then he felt his chest tighten as the horse's hooves impacted, knocking him backward. When his enemy opened his visor and laughed, Athgar saw the man's face, one he would not soon forget; the long scar running down the left cheek, cutting through the thick black beard was forever seared into his memory. The Therengian staggered back as all turned dark.

  Athgar opened his grey eyes. Everything around him was fuzzy, and out of focus, then a green face loomed over him. Sounds started coming to his ears, the language of Orcs.

  "Where am I?" he asked, using their tongue.

  "You are in Ord-Kurgad, our village," replied the face, finally coming into focus.

  Its wrinkled countenance identified it as an elderly Orc, or at least that's what Athgar assumed. "My name is Uhdrig, I am the village healer," the Orc said.

  "I am Athgar," he murmured, his voice weak. "What happened?"

  "You were found in Athelwald, buried in the ashes," she replied. "What do you remember?"

  The images once again came flooding back to him in a rush. "There was a battle, we were attacked. Men on horses burning the huts," he coughed out.

  "You must rest," Uhdrig advised. "You were badly burned. I have used magic to heal you, but the burns will take longer for the spell to have an effect."

  "How long has it been?" he asked.

  "More than a day, why?"

  "I must find the survivors," said Athgar, trying to sit up.

  "There were no others," she said, pushing him back down. "Kargen told us you were the only one they found."

  "They were all slain?"

  "No, but Kargen will explain later. For now, you must rest and recover your strength. Once you are better, we have much to discuss."

  Another Orc loomed over him. "How are you feeling?" the newcomer asked.

  "Sore," replied Athgar, "and my skin feels like it's on fire."

  "That is to be expected. I am Artoch, Master of Flame. Tell me, how long have you held the spark?"

  "What spark? I don't know what you're talking about."

  "You have an affinity for fire," continued Artoch. "You have been touched by it. With patience and training, you can be taught to harness that spark, to control the flame."

  "I don't understand," said Athgar. "Are you saying I have the makings of a Fire Mage?"

  "You have, as long as it does not consume you. This gift can be controlled, and even directed if you wish, but it will take great mental discipline."

  "I don't understand," said Athgar, "if that was true, shouldn't I have shown some affinity for fire in the past?"

  "The gift of fire can be a fickle thing," said Artoch. "While some show an aptitude as they grow, others only have their power unlocked through great suffering. I believe you fall into the latter."

  "This is all too much for me," the Therengian replied. "I remember fighting the horseman, and then waking up here, and now you're telling me I'm a Fire Mage?"

  "You have the potential to be one, yes," said Artoch

  "Who found me?"

  "Kargen and Laruhk. They were out hunting when they detected the smoke from your village. I am sorry to tell you it has been burned to the ground."

  Athgar tried to sit up again, but firm hands pushed him back down. "You must rest and heal," said Uhdrig. "The time for questions will come later."

  "But I have to track down the attackers," insisted Athgar.

  "It is far too dangerous," said Artoch. "Without learning to control the fire within you, you would perish."

  "I don't understand," said the Human.

  "You have great magical potential," explained the Orc, "but you are untrained, making your days dangerous and numbered."

  "Nonsense," objected Athgar, "I've never had that problem before."

  "No," said Artoch, "I do not suppose you have, but it has been released now, and it can only grow, putting your own life in danger unless you learn to control it. And it is not just you that you must consider."

  "What do you mean?" Athgar asked.

  "You might find survivors, only to burn them to death in your sleep. Is that the fate they deserve?"

  "No, it's not," Athgar agreed, "but I must begin my search before it's too late!"

  "You may go if you wish," the elderly Orc replied, "but you would likely not live out the week."

  "It's that dangerous?" asked the Therengian.

  "It is," said Artoch. "If you would permit me, I would teach you, provided the tribe agrees to let you stay, of course."

  "In any case," added Uhdrig, "it is too late. They are long gone, their tracks washed away by rain. One day, perhaps, you will find them, but the ancestors have clearly spoken, that day is not today."

  Athgar closed his eyes, his head in turmoil, trying to make sense of everything, until sleep finally claimed him.

  * * *

  Continue reading Ashes

  Also by Paul J Bennett

  Heir to the Crown Series

  Battle at the River - Prequel

  Servant of the Crown

  Sword of the Crown

  Mercerian Tales: Stories of the Past

  Heart of the Crown

  Shadow of the Crown

  Mercerian Tales: The Call of Magic

  Fate of the Crown

  Burden of the Crown

  Mercerian Tales: The Making of a Man

  Defender of the Crown

  Fury of the Crown - Summer 2020

  The Frozen Flame Series

  The Awakening/Into the Fire - Prequels

  Ashes

  Embers

  Flames - Summer 2020

  Power Ascending Series

  Tempered Steel - Prequel - Spring 2020

  Temple Knight - Spring 2020

  Warrior Knight - Autumn 2020

  The Chronicles of Cyric

  Into the Maelstrom - Prequel

  A Midwinter Murder

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  An enemy commander. A skilled tactician. Only one can be victorious.

  The Norland raiders are at it again. When the Baron of Bodden splits their defensive forces, Sergeant Gerald Matheson thinks that today is a day like any other, but then something is different. At the last moment, Gerald recognizes the warning signs, but they are outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and out of luck. How can they win this unbeatable battle?

  * * *

  If you like intense battle scenes and unexpected plot twists, then you will love Paul J Bennett's tale of a soldier who thinks outside the box.

  Dedication

  To educators everywhere who give the gift of knowledge and inspire a lifelong love of learning.

  A Few Words from Paul

  Defender of the Crown parallels Heart of the Crown in a couple of ways. While both deal with a diplomatic journey to a foreign realm, the results are far different. In Heart, Anna was a young girl, a pawn of King Andred in a game of politics. Despite this disadvantage, she completes a very successful mission. In Defender, however, she is now queen, a far cry from the young girl that travelled to Weldwyn.

  The court of Merceria remains weakened due to the events that took place in Burden of the Crown, and there is still much opposition to the queen’s policies. Anna, now faced with another diplomatic challenge, must decide who will rule the kingdom in her absence. Despite obvious villains who plot and connive, this time, some of her most stalwart support
ers balk at the thought of the queen travelling into the heartland of Norland, their traditional enemy.

  Ultimately, though, this tale is about people. Heir to the Crown now has a large cast of characters, and inevitably, some will receive a little less attention than others. In Defender of the Crown, the emphasis is on Hayley as she struggles to deal with her newfound responsibilities, both as High Ranger and as the queen’s steward. It also delves into magic in more detail, giving Aubrey a more prominent place.

  After reading this book, some questions are still left unresolved. With a foreign army threatening Eastwood, the military might of Merceria, now bolstered by its allies, must repel this force and then take the war to Norland territory. All this, while a new threat demands that Gerald and Anna march again in Fury of the Crown.

  I could not have completed a work of this magnitude without the help and support of my loving wife, Carol. These stories, indeed all my books, are due in large part to her tireless efforts in editing, promoting and inspiring these tales.

  I would also thank Christie Kramburger for once again providing us with an outstanding cover, along with Stephanie Sandrock and Amanda Bennett, for their encouragement and support. Though their characters do not appear as often in this tale, I must thank Brad Aitken, Jeffrey Parker and Stephen Brown for their inspirations.

  My BETA reading team continues to provide valuable feedback, as usual, catching plot holes and inconsistencies. Their assistance in the editing process is very much appreciated. Thanks to Rachel Deibler, Tim James, Stuart Rae, Michael Rhew, Phyliss Simpson, Don Hinkey, James McGinnis, and Shelley Heddings for giving of your time!