by Sigrid Kraft
Prince Raiden ate some eggs and tomatoes. He was still numbed by yesterday’s brew and no longer thirsty. So the wine in his glass remained untouched, although the Lord of Naganor immediately sensed the aura of love potion. Does Lady Chrystell intend to numb me completely?
His attention was focused on the delicious food beautifully presented, and he ate his fill. When he could eat no more, his hand wandered to his wine glass. Deep in thought, he raised it slowly. The wine shone vivid red, promising him another day of peace. I have been drinking too much recently. And I don’t just mean the cupid-drink. Wine at every meal – I should cut down a little. But this potion guarantees me a bit of peace and enjoyment, so I will enjoy it just one more time…
His lips were already touching the glass, when Master Eriwen called him telepathically.
“My Prince, I need to talk to you at once!”
Distracted by the interruption, Prince Raiden put the glass down. He gave Master Eriwen a mental sign that he had accepted the telegraphic connection, and the other mage immediately revealed his important news:
“Lord Berington’s army is crossing the Great River at this very moment and marching in our direction. I no longer believe that they will head south.”
This grave news grabbed Prince Raiden’s complete attention at once.
“Master Eriwen, don’t let the army out of your sight! I’ll see to everything else forthwith.”
No one else in the hall had heard that silent conversation, so Lady Chrystell was astonished when Prince Raiden suddenly stood up, excused himself politely and abruptly left the room.
This is strange. I have to think. So he first cleared his head of the potion’s dulling sweetness. Then he tried to contact Danian, but the King didn’t answer via the artifact.
Prince Raiden had no other way of contacting his brother quickly, because Danian had no magical abilities of his own. So the Prince could only wait until King Danian was back at his desk, upon which the communication artifact stood.
He had more luck in contacting Lord Boron.
“My Prince,” answered the Gray Wolf, and Raiden at once informed him of Master Eriwen’s news, drawing the conclusion that:
“Lord Berington has five thousand men within easy reach of Aspenway. If he turns north rather than south, he could easily overrun the fortress at Aspenway and use the safety of the Unhaer to march his men towards Aspengate. Once he is past Aspenway, we would probably be unable to stop him taking the gate, even if we mobilized all our troops,”
“You really do not think he will now turn south to...?”
The Prince interrupted his commander abruptly: “To do what? Throw his men at the walls of Tworivers for no reason? Lord Berington is a clever man, and I tell you - he will try to get his hands on the gate – our gate. And if he gets a secure footing in the mountains, the game is up. It will be virtually impossible to drive him back out of there. So mobilize all your men at once and send them directly to Aspenway! Send the cavalry ahead as fast as possible too and hold Aspenway at all costs, Lord Boron!”
The Prince’s orders were crystal clear and, despite his former reservations, the Gray Wolf was now in complete agreement with this assessment of the situation. There was no time to lose.
Less than half an hour later, all the Guard’s cavalry had left Wyvernwall, but not before they had commandeered all the horses they could find, as well as some mules. Lord Boron also demanded that Lord Durin send his soldiers north too, but Durin protested vehemently:
“You must understand that I cannot agree to that. My castle would be left completely unprotected, and that would be rather unwise in the present situation. The rebels could turn in any direction.”
These words made the Gray Wolf incandescent with rage: “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you! In any case, Wyvernwall has as much strategic importance as a pile of shit in a field! Every last man is coming with me, as the Prince himself has ordered. Or do you dare oppose His Highness?”
Lord Boron’s anger silenced the Lord of Wyvernwall at last.
Meanwhile, Prince Raiden was consulting maps on which were marked the locations of the gates.
No gate is close enough to the field of action. He made plans and dismissed them again.
Then Master Eriwen reported once more: “My Prince, the army continues to move in a northerly direction.”
“Exactly as I thought. You must try to warn the men at Aspenway. The fortress is within the Unhaer, so you can only do this without magic. No one is closer than you. Do your best to warn them about the attack in good time and tell them my orders are that they must hold the fortress at any cost. Help is on the way!”
“I will need to ride well clear of the hostile army and can’t promise that I will get there in time.”
“Then ride like the devil!”
Raiden again tried to contact Danian, but in vain.
He was feeling highly stressed, when the door opened and a servant entered, carrying a tray with a glass of wine. The servant mumbled a speech he had clearly memorized: “Lady Chrystell sends you this drink, as Your Highness left the breakfast table in such haste. Your lady wife fears you may be thirsty and is concerned for your well-being.”
Raiden paid little attention: “Well, well, all right!” I am in no mood for such things now. Time is running out.
He turned his attention back to the maps, while the servant put down the tray and left the room.
One day is all that matters, the Prince brooded. There are gates where I could also get horses, but they are further away. The magic gates closer to Aspenway are seldom used, because they are in the mountains and difficult to get to.
More thought took up more time – and time was of the essence.
Perhaps a better solution will come to me while I’m getting ready, the Prince thought, rummaging around - in a most unmagical way - in a cupboard until he found a small chest.
This held a collection of artifacts which had some power even in the Unhaer. Rings, chains, coins and charms went into a leather bag attached to the Prince’s belt.
He then put on a light suit of armor and threw a heavy cloak around his shoulders. As weapons, he chose a sword and a sheathed knife, which he secured to the belt next to the leather bag. He stowed the map in a bag which he slung over his shoulder. That’s enough. I will have to travel on foot and want to move as quickly as possible.
On his way out he rushed past the tray with the glass on it. The drink remained untouched.
The Prince bumped into Eryn in the corridor to the gate-room.
The Nurin can be of use to me. “Eryn, fetch one day’s rations from the kitchen and then come to the gate-room. AT ONCE!”
The force of those final words snapped Eryn out of his confusion, and he ran like the wind.
Armed with his supplies, Eryn was in the gate-room just a few minutes later.
Without further ado, the Prince grabbed him and dragged him through the gate.
They tumbled out into a weathered stone circle somewhere deep in the mountains. All around them soared snow-covered giants connected by wooded valleys. The clear air was wonderfully crisp and Eryn marvelled: “The Fenn mountains!”
“Gelderon.” The Prince corrected him without even adding a biting comment and then added: “We have no time to lose.”
Prince Raiden opened his bag, took out the map, unrolled it and compared the drawing with the actual landscape. Eryn sneaked a glance at the map too. He had a hundred questions which he was burning to ask, but the Prince was in a mood and seemed – very unusually for His Highness – to be in an extreme hurry. He did not even consider telling Eryn what was going on.
So I’m just a stupid foot soldier again, Eryn thought as the Prince commanded:
“This way!”
Having said this, he started to run, and Eryn followed. Eryn was a good runner but, unlike the Prince, he was wearing heavy armor and also carrying the supplies.
This sapped his strength, and he could not keep up the little
refreshing spells and repeated attempts to heal the chafes and blisters that were beginning to appear.
Eryn cursed the uncomfortable armor again. I could run all day long in light leathers, but this armor plate is made for fighting, not running.
When he inevitably fell behind, the Prince deigned to wait for him. Even before Eryn reached the Prince, he could hear him in his head:
“I didn’t bring you with me so that you could slow me down. Time is short. Young men today are useless.”
Eryn dared not ask, but his curiosity showed itself in his thoughts, so it was as if he was speaking directly to the Prince.
What has happened? Why are we in such a hurry? And I could run much faster without this damned armor.
Quite unexpectedly, Eryn had his questions answered when, panting heavily, he caught up with His Highness.
“Lord Berington is attacking Aspenway, and if Aspenway falls, the rats will be safe in their nest in the Unhaer. And since you are no doubt still unable to bewitch your armor, I will have to do that for you.”
Eryn saw the spell coming and feared another magical blow similar to those that had struck him so many times before. But – oh, miracle! – his armor lost most of its weight and now felt about as heavy as a silk tunic.
“Ahh!” was his witty response.
“Now that you know the reason, I expect you to do better. Keep up!” And the Prince rushed off again.
As they crossed a plateau, Eryn thought things over.
There has been a lot of talk in the citadel about the Gelderon conflict, and three companies went through the gate a few days ago, including V Company – without me. Was I purposefully given nannying duties, then? To keep me out of the way? Well, now I am accompanying the Prince, so it seems he wasn’t holding me back. It was just a stupid task to satisfy his lovely wife. Lady Chrystell is horrible, nagging all the time. I almost pity Prince Raiden for being stuck with her... almost.
From the gossip Eryn had heard in Naganor, he knew that the rebel Lord Berington had marched against King Vicerion’s men and that the King of Gelderon had begged Ardeen for help. The fact that Lord Berington was now approaching Aspenway was an unexpected turn of events. A Gelderon Lord attacking Ardeen – this made Eryn feel a mix of unease and excitement. There were so many questions as to what would happen now and whether they were at war or not.
It was past noon when the Prince decided to take a break, not so much because he was exhausted but in order to think things over and make plans. While Eryn unpacked their rations, Prince Raiden telepathed. Once His Highness was back in the real world, he took some of this anxiety out on Eryn.
“We don’t need a bloody picnic!” Some bread and ham flew into His Highness’s right hand, and the bottle of water flew to his left.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been carrying a full bottle all this time! Haven’t I taught you already how to draw water from the surroundings into a container?”
Eryn hated it when the Prince made a show of his stupidity when it came to doing magic. His feelings were hurt and he kept quiet. What would he say to that anyway? The Prince was under great pressure, therefore in a bad mood and naturally looked for an outlet to reduce his stress. That was his underlying reason for picking on Eryn, nothing more.
After they had gulped the food down, the Prince was again in a hurry.
“Get packing! We need to go!”
Eryn did so, while the Prince unrolled the map. He compared the mountain peaks with the drawings on the map, but seemed uncertain. Eryn, standing next to him, looked at the map over the Prince’s shoulder.
It’s a nice drawing but doesn’t match the real landscape. Eryn’s vast experience in the mountains had sharpened his sense of direction, or perhaps it came naturally to him. The same could not be said of the Prince, and this was obvious when His Highness now pointed downhill, thinking that to be the right way.
“We need to go down there,” the Prince exclaimed, rolling up the map.
“My Prince, if you want to go to Aspenway, I wouldn’t choose that way,” Eryn said, and the Prince shot him a fearsome glance, as if to say “how dare you!”
“What?” The word rang across the mountainsides, abrupt and cutting.
More fool me. Why say anything at all? I should have let him run in the wrong direction.
“That’s not the fastest way to your destination, my Prince.”
The map was quickly unrolled again.
“Why? We are here, and this is where we want to go.” The Prince followed a line on the map with his finger. As diplomatically as he could, Eryn corrected him. “Perhaps we are there, my Prince. If you look at the landscape again, you may see that the map doesn’t match our surroundings very well.”
The Prince checked the map and then looked around again. At last he made an indignant humming sound and changed his mind: “We have to go that way!”
He was now pointing in the direction Eryn had always thought was the right one, but Eryn was clever enough not to point this out and say “I told you so!” The Prince did not mention this either, and they continued on their way.
For a long time, both of them were lost in thought, not saying a word. Then the terrain became rather steep and precipitous, so Prince Raiden slowed to a quick walk and suddenly began to talk about the situation. “It is a rather delicate issue, and the outcome is uncertain.” He was thinking aloud rather than conversing with Eryn, but Eryn listened with great interest anyway.
“Master Eriwen has arrived in Aspenway just in time to warn the garrison there. That gives us a breathing space. If the damned fortress at Aspenway wasn’t in the Unhaer, it would all be much easier. Unhaer can be really annoying for a mage.”
I think so too.
“Master Eriwen is hiding with some of his students outside the fortress, somewhere up on the mountainside. Lord Boron thought to send other mages to support Master Eriwen some days ago, and that turns out to have been a really wise decision. It would have been even better if he had sent the whole Guard, but at that time no one really believed things would turn out this way. Well, a few mages are better than none. Now they are in position high above the valley with a good view of the landscape below. And – what’s even better – they can use magic from there to give the enemy a hard time and increase our chances of holding the fortress for a little while longer. Every minute counts all the same. The Black Guard is also galloping from Wyvernwall to Aspenway, but only a force of three hundred men - far too few in comparison with Lord Berington’s strength. If only they can make it to the fortress in time and barricade themselves inside... The valley is narrow there.”
The Prince paused, then added grimly: “I have to get there before it is too late. I can only turn the tide while the rebel army stands before Aspenway. If they get through, all is lost.”
The Prince had somehow thrown a weight from his shoulders by speaking about his concerns, whilst Eryn marveled at the tricks of fate. It’s weird that I’m fighting for mountain country again.
“The irony of fate. Certainly not the will of the Gods this time.”
This sarcastic statement hurt, and Eryn couldn’t stop himself.
“My Prince, is this how you try to motivate me for battle?”
The Prince laughed meanly: “If things go my way, you won’t be taking part in any fight. I will stand high above Aspenway and destroy the enemy with the power of my great magic, while you enjoy the spectacle from a safe distance. Or, even better, you can make yourself useful by preparing a great feast, because casting so many spells will make me hungry.”
After our journey to Aleroth I almost thought the Prince had changed his attitude towards me, because he paid me so much less attention. Now I see His Highness was only busy with other things, for example with Ravenor and Lady Chrystell, and I’m just his whipping boy again.
Eryn’s temperament made him rage about this injustice, but the anger also activated the unholy power of the soulban, so he forced his mind to concentrate on the beauty of the
landscape, to calm himself down.
By late afternoon, they finally reached their destination – or almost anyway. Prince Raiden stopped suddenly, Eryn took two steps more, and at once the full weight of his armor was pressing on him again. He did not need to scan to know that he had walked into the Unhaer, and he jumped back quickly.
“Unhaer,” said the Prince, in a combination of disgust and surprise. The Lord of Naganor began to cast several spells, and Eryn too tried to scan the area of Unhaer. His magical eye hopped back and forth, first quickly then more slowly, but when it came too close to the unmagical area it dissolved at once, and Eryn had to create a new one.
Meanwhile the Prince had conjured up a magical mirror before him and called out: “Stop that nonsense and come here! Look in the mirror! I have sent an eye around the Unhaer and it is larger than I first thought. It would take hours to travel around it. The Unhaer is long but not very wide - just a hundred meters or so.”
The mirror showed Aspenway from a bird’s eye view. An enormous army had gathered before the fortress walls, bombarding them with stones and arrows. Suddenly a fire-blast shot at the enemy from the cliffs.
“That is Master Eriwen, but the rebel mages are pressing hard. Fortunately, the Guard arrived in time and broke through the enemy ring an hour ago, which has saved Aspenway from being captured already. But the walls are down in several places and they can’t resist the attack for much longer. I have to do something! There must be a way!” Prince Raiden clenched his jaws, staring into the mirror, and then suddenly looked up:
“Eryn, how long can you keep the vein of gold open?”
“To bewitch something? Half an hour nearly.”
Without saying another word, the Prince took the bag from his belt and emptied it on the ground. Jewels showered onto the short alpine grass. The Prince searched through them hurriedly and eventually picked out a golden ring. The other jewels, a small fortune’s worth, were left abandoned in the grass.
“The ring has little power left, in fact - almost none. It allows me to walk through the Unhaer without being harmed, but I need to increase its power to be able to speak the crucial spell. Now listen well! Hold the vein open – at any cost! I will use your source. Don’t be afraid if that happens – just let it be. You won’t be harmed.”