Simon smiled before nodding. “Just as pretty that’s for sure. Who knew that troublesome little girl would blossom like this, huh?”
With an impish grin, Serra wagged a finger at her older brother, “Better watch it, brother, I know the queen.”
A bright lilting laugh from Alyanna joined the rest.
Family reunions were soon pushed slightly aside, even as Serra sat beside him resting a hand on his forearm or holding his hand as she once had as a little girl. The return of her brothers nearly made her want to be that girl who had two big brothers watching out and protecting her. She was all but grown now, and even had Baitrum as a lover, but still the warmth of their return nearly overwhelmed her.
While much of the talk was about catching up, though Simon had told Serra much of what had happened the past two days, much was spoken over their plans. Alyanna and Baitrum’s parts may have been all but achieved, but still there would be things needed to be undertaken to properly secure the city. With the gargoyles in Merrick’s employ perhaps they could never feel completely secure, but they could try.
Simon had done all he could in establishing things as they were, but he was less a warrior than a merchant. He would stay in Hala as well. Rebels and other allies could keep in touch and get orders from here, while Gerid’s army must proceed into Maris.
The commander was briefed with as much information as could be had on the alien creatures brought to the North Continent. The wizards from the other world that Serra and Baitrum had come across had been able to give them some ideas to take them away from Merrick, but there were risks involved. Gerid heard them out making notes in his mind. A plan quickly formed, though he wondered if it could truly work. If it did, then the High King was all but undone.
Word from Terris had arrived regularly over the past month or so. How to fight the gargoyles had been included. The spears needed would be ready should his plan fail.
Now it was just a matter of time. Until the armies arrived, until they could cross the distance and see what Merrick had arrayed against them, until Gerid could pit himself against the man that had nearly ruined his life as well as nearly ending it. Renewed anger reinforced his drive to end Merrick’s tyranny once and for all.
A body lay in a bloody pool in front of the large tent. The sounds of anger and dismay came from within from the only occupant.
Snarling and cursing Krulir’s name, Merrick had read the messenger’s note and nearly lost his mind. The old fool had fallen down a flight of stairs? He could barely believe his bad luck. The vizier was supposed to be keeping things running from Hala while the High King of the North finished this war. Now who would run things? Matreln or one of Krulir’s assistants? Maybe he would have to send one of the captains or colonels to make sure things ran smoothly in the city.
Such a thing happening now, even as he came so close to his goals. Sure the Cadmene knights had all disappeared on him and reinforcements for the gargoyles and dragons had not arrived, nor word of them for that matter, but his armies continued to drive the combined forces of Maris and Sileoth before them.
Collapsing onto his fancy field chair, nearly as heavy and gilt as a throne, Merrick sighed letting the anger dim slightly.
The messenger had been a casualty of his foul temper. Nearly two weeks it had taken for the message to reach him. His army bogging down from time to time to deal with another feint from his enemies had led him to cross less than half of Maris so far. Oapril remained tantalizingly close, but his enemies had gotten trickier. Their tactics were so far different from the beginnings of the war in the spring. It was almost like someone else was now leading them.
Stabbing his knife into the wood of his desk, he noted the blood still drying on the blade. Maybe he shouldn’t have killed the man, but his rage had overtaken him. Perhaps leaving him alive to ask a few more questions would have been wise, but what was done was done. He would need a different messenger to relay his words back to Hala, unless he sent someone back to lead them that Merrick could brief enough to not need a messenger?
Another sigh. There always seemed to be these little things to annoy him. Krulir had often removed the most basic of annoyances for him, but the man was gone and causing as many troubles as he had most likely fixed, Merrick thought.
“Ah well,” he mumbled to himself, “I can hammer this out as I have the rest. This won’t stop me anymore than those stupid golems that were set before me. They slowed me down for a time too, but now they’re gone as all my enemies will be,” he declared to himself.
The carnal gulls between Maris and Hala had been flying regularly for nearly two months now. The former king, Terris, often checked on the keepers of the birds for new word. Nearly two months ago the alliance of nations against Merrick had given up the battle that had virtually finished off their best defense in the golem wizards. Since then it had been a series of feints and parries that had been steering Merrick in whatever direction Terris and the generals felt would best lead him to ground that favored their men.
They could not hope to defeat Merrick so long as he had his gargoyles and dragons, but they had not given up. If Terris had the beautiful rugged terrain of Maris’ forests and ridged hills nearly mountains in size in Cadmene, perhaps things would have gone better. Cadmene was a land of gentle hills. Forests were few and far between as it was an older, more cultivated land than Maris. The eastern landfalls of the ancients and early expansion had tamed the lands much sooner than their cousins who eventually took to the northwest.
Using the terrain, they had prolonged this war far longer than Merrick would have liked. So long as their armies remained undefeated and in the field, the High King could not risk attacking Oapril. The capitol city and it fortified walls would most likely require a siege unless the gargoyles could engineer a complete route by flying within the fortifications. Should such a thing be tried, however, they might find the soldiers there more ready than they once had been. Word of how to tame the creatures by hamstringing the beasts and using spear and sword teams made them a definite threat even in large numbers of gargoyles.
The day Alyanna had announced help coming from the last place imagined, Terris had been slightly hesitant to get his hopes up. A fugitive from Marshalla only a few years before had gained enough power to come from Rhearden with an army? Such a thing seemed impossible, but only a few weeks later word of an army of more than ten thousand and Hala wrested from Merrick without the man even knowing of its demise had caused them all to smile and have hope.
Whether Merrick and his generals noticed their movements’ true goals since that message, Terris did not know and doubted very much that it was important to the king. They were chasing the last true force of their enemy’s might after all. Whether it ran east or west, south or north, mattered little as long as they continued to lose and eventually died. But it would matter in the long run, once they figured out that the whole goal was to lead them as close to Marshalla’s border and the oncoming army there anyway.
How many more days would they need? The trip was long for a single rider and an army walking would take much longer even driven hard. He and the others would do what they could for as long as they could, Terris knew, but if there was ever a mistake they would pay and Merrick would win again for real. Gritting his teeth at the thought, the former king refused to let himself think such things. They would win. He knew they must.
Chapter 47- Passe’rote
The mist sat lightly in the valley creating a blurred patch of dark hazy green. The black stone ridge of the mountainous hill was the perfect vantage point for the figures that stood atop it. Despite the mists in the valleys, their views spanned miles of hills and valleys around them. If they hunted the valleys for an enemy, they would not be so happy with the day, but their enemy would not stay to the forested land beneath them. This enemy rode the skies.
Gerid stood before his horse with a long glass searching.
A flicker of light from the hilltop southwest of him let him know one of
the scouts was still in contact. Another from the northwest said so as well.
Sighing, the commander looked behind him without the glass. Arrayed in the near distance was the mercenary force led by Kolonus. Many of the men Gerid knew from their campaigns from what seemed like a lifetime ago. Some of his soldiers had died in the seasons fighting since then. The battles had been more skirmishes than full out war since Enswere had found itself bloodied along with its ally Klosten. The loss of ships from the latter had slowed that nation as it worked to reinforce its fleets to resist Gerid’s fleet.
Now he no longer worried over Rhearden and its enemies. He did care for his adopted land, but the north was his home. This was his fight. If only he could find it, and the one he needed before the main army crashed into his. His own army had grown as he moved west. Cadmene, who he had once impersonated, had sent nearly fifteen hundred knights. A full regiment that had been held in reserve by Merrick, the remaining armies and rebellious elements had immediately tossed off their shackles and killed or captured the forces the High King had left to enforce his will.
Added to the knights was the surprising size of the men raised by the rebellion. Marshalla and Cadmene had amassed more than two thousand more to walk or ride alongside his ten thousand. The additions brought his army up to just over fourteen thousand men. A fair sized force even compared to what Merrick led. Nearly half his army’s full number, and Merrick still had to contend with the remaining armies of Sileoth, Maris and Terris’ knights. Gerid knew the math and knew that it would matter for little if they could not rid themselves of Merrick’s greatest forces.
Glancing to the thousands that hid in the valley behind him or stood revealed on the slope behind him, the commander felt only slightly worried. This would work. It had to.
“Sir,” Bakur, formerly his sergeant and since promoted to one of Kolonus’ lieutenants, pointed towards the southwest hill top. The flashes from the shining light sent their code. Pointing the glass above the hilltop, Gerid found the black dots in the sky.
“Time to grab their attention,” he ordered as excitement tightened his belly in anticipation. This was it. The moment of where they would win or lose came down to this.
It did not take long for the dots to grow. Soon he did not even need the spyglass to see them coming. They had taken the bait. Feeling safe in the skies and nearly invincible on the ground, Mar’goyn’lya figured little enough could harm them with a little investigation. They remained cautious even so, knowing that a well placed cross bolt had wounded and even caused the deaths of more than a few careless brethren.
When Gerid figured at least one of the five gliding over head could hear his voice, the giant bellowed, “Hear me, mar’goyn’lya, tell your leader, Kar’esh, that I invoke the practice of passe’rote as explained by Fa’makel’zer.” He held up a golden amulet given him by Baitrum by the gargoyle leader he had met months earlier. It was during their brief talks that the wizard had explained a way to get Kar’esh to cease his support. At the time, Baitrum had no way of using the practice or amulet. It wasn’t until talking with Gerid that they discovered the Mar’goyn’lya had such a practice. “I challenge Kar’esh to meet me at midday on that hilltop,” he finished pointing towards the next peak to the west. It would take him most of the morning to navigate the valley and reach the hilltop himself so he hoped the gargoyle would be able to meet him by then.
One of their number swooped slightly lower to see the amulet. Not wanting to give them a reason to falter, the giant swung the amulet in a couple quick circuits before tossing it up to the waiting creature. “How came you by this, human?” the gargoyle asked from where he hovered above the men.
“How I came by it means nothing. Just make sure you tell Kar’esh and have him there at the allotted time. Failure to meet his obligation to passe’rote will lead to my need to slay every last one of his mar’goyn’lya. On that you can be assured.”
The gargoyle seemed to smirk in disbelief. Gerid was large by human standards, but hardly as large as most of his gargoyle kind. “I will tell him. I am sure he would love to meet you for passe’rote, man. Who is it that wished to meet our leader?”
“Tell him Sir Gerid Aramathea, knight and protector of Rhearden, and admiral of the largest fleet in the north seas.”
“Impressive,” the creature mocked but nodded as it flew away with its flock.
“You think he’ll do it, sir?” Finneas asked curiously from his right. Bakur seemed to have been ready to ask as much himself.
“If what Baitrum was told is true, then he will. Kar’esh is supposed to put his honor before everything else. The passe’rote is an ultimate matter of honor among his kind.” Gerid looked at the sun already closing in on midmorning. If he were to meet his own obligation, he needed to get moving. With only a small honor guard following him, the giant moved towards destiny.
Merrick looked ready to murder. Near
midmorning, he was having a meeting with his generals including Kar’esh. The gargoyle’s presence helped remind the generals that it was Merrick who controlled this creature. He was the one that pulled the string that would launch nearing five hundred of their grey arrows.
He was near to fuming by the moves of his enemies. Every time his armies sought to close with the men of Maris and Sileoth, they would get a taste of blood and disappear. Every time he thought the army cornered, they would sneak away. Worse, the enemy often would strike with quick fierce feints of their own. Many a soldier had been felled by a sneak attack. Too few of his enemy fell with regularity it seemed and always they kept moving.
Despite his desire to crush Oapril. This enemy remained a threat. If he attacked the capitol city, they could actually cut him off by destroying his supply lines. If they were confident enough in Oapril’s defenses, they might even dare the long march to return the favor and run for a siege of Hala.
Then to add to his frustration and fury, a gargoyle barged into his command tent and handed a medallion to Kar’esh and message. As if the intrusion weren’t enough, the beasts actually had the nerve to walk out on him.
Turning his back to Merrick and the generals, Kar’esh led the intruder from the tent without a word. “Where do you think you’re going?” Merrick fairly snarled. He wouldn’t suffer a hound, who knew no better, such an affront, surely this gargoyle knew the High King would find a way to make him pay for such a thing. He may have to be more subtle to not ruin their agreement, but, as Merrick watched the tent flap close behind them, he gritted his teeth and knew that this was the last straw that he could allow to fall between them.
Midday and the sun stood out strongly in a blue sky empty of all clouds. The morning fog had burned away from the valleys under its brilliant strength. The heat rose as summer refused to give its last gasp in the north.
For Gerid and his small band of banner men, the watching of the sun brought added agitation as they awaited an enemy that was unknown to them. Gargoyles had been in the north for a few years and had been what had driven Gerid away from his home, but he had never seen one. Hala was empty of their number as they fought with Merrick or joined those hidden in the Dragon’s Scar Mountains. His house had been destroyed along with many lives, but they had been long gone by the time they had arrived. The brief talk with the messenger and it’s four comrades were the first time he had seen a Mar’goyn’lya in the flesh, if only for a moment.
Even as he stewed over the worry over this new enemy, Gerid tried to envision what they could do from what Baitrum had briefed him about. Larger than a man with skin like thick, seasoned leather. Strength greater than any man and perhaps most oxen. Agility and the ability to fly that seemed impossible for their size. The giant would be looking up to these monsters if they stood on the ground and more so should they take flight.
As he went over the scenarios in his head, Finneas gasped from where he held a spyglass watching the direction they had seen the messenger go towards. “He’s bringing a few with him, my lord.”
“
The equivalent of squires or arms men, just like the six of you,” Gerid replied with little worry. “Looks like he’s up for “discussing” things with me.”
“Probably figures no man can stand before him alone,” was the reply from Finneas.
“Perhaps.”
The gargoyles circled high overhead checking for traps. In the distance on the crest of the three closest hills to the south and east, men from his army watched and waited with spyglasses from afar. Should he lose, they would no longer be needed, but Gerid knew he couldn’t lose. He mustn’t.
A dozen gargoyles swooped in facing the seven men across nearly thirty feet of stone. The crest was nearly flat and all but bare of grass let alone trees. More than a hundred feet across its length and half that across, the hill would serve perfectly for the passe’rote.
The leader of the Mar’goyn’lya held out the golden amulet towards the men. “Where did you get this?” Kar’esh demanded in a voice like rumbling granite.
“Does it truly matter?” was the reply, but even this alien face could be read to know that it did. “Fa’makel’zer gifted it to my sister and a friend when they arrived. Your people have snuck into this world and headed north to the mountains with the Che’ther. He told them that you had a problem. Your honor has crippled you in that Merrick has a hold on you and your soldiers from an agreement that you can only wish to get out of.”
The creature stiffened and, if Gerid knew body positions, Kar’esh betrayed the truth of his words.
“I made an agreement with this High King Merrick. My people will honor the letter of it, even if means our deaths. Those who came on their own never swore to join him and are free. We are not.”
“If we were told true, the only things that can end this agreement are three. Finish what you agreed, die trying, or the passe’rote. I bring you your salvation, but should you refuse I can fulfill the second choice as well.”
The High King: A Tale of Alus Page 49