Haldar felt panic stricken at the sight before his eyes. Here was the one man who could possibly turn the tide of any battle, dying before him. He yelled in vain for a nearby healer to assist Daron, but just from the look on the fallen sorcerer’s face he somehow knew there was little anybody could do. In those few seconds of watching his life-long friend’s life ebb away, Haldar felt the realisation of defeat.
His thoughts immediately went to his son, and the hope that Leo and the others had managed to get the lad out of the city in time. Whilst the sounds of battle echoed around the palace walls and in the streets beyond, Haldar felt as alone and vulnerable as he had ever remembered. He watched on as Daron’s limp body was hurriedly carried towards the palace entrance, before turning at the sound of further explosions. These were much nearer and caused his ears to ring as he himself was ushered towards the palace building.
At first he allowed himself to be gently moved along before regaining his composure. Now was a time to stand and be the leader those around him expected. Young men and women had died, were still dying in his name, defending his very home and he knew he needed to step up to the mark. With a new found determination and grit he turned about pulling his rather ornate sword from its sheath and held it aloft, “Come on!” he shouted to the large framed warrior stood at his side, “We need to make a stand here.”
The warrior at his side did not argue, but merely nodded his acceptance before drawing his own sword and marching quickly towards the walls of the palace. Here and there lay the bodies of fallen city guards with a few of those from the guild amongst them. Lined up in the last defence of the city stood the young faces of dozens of young rangers, soldiers and the unmistakable figures of the black-robed sorcerers.
The guild healers and auxiliary staff from the royal household helped out where they could, but Haldar knew repelling an enemy force the size of which he had not foreseen would be difficult. After taking up a position he deemed just out of range he gave a rallying call to those around him. He looked down the main thoroughfare leading up from the south to see hundreds of enemy soldiers, archers and sorcerers slowly making their way towards his position.
He watched as a few young guild sorcerers wearing the white belts indicating them to be novices, all fired simultaneously taking down a handful of enemy soldiers trying to sneak down a side street. His gaze was then caught by a group much further back, and a man atop a horse riding slowly far behind his troops. There were banners being held aloft by men walking beside him, and although he could not see a face, he knew this must be the man whom would see him dead.
Haldar turned quickly as he heard a thump and a muffled sound as one of the young guild sorcerers fell to the ground beside him. Thin tendrils of smoke drifted up from the black robe hit by the blast of an enemy magician. Haldar once more felt his strength waning, especially when he actually looked upon the face of the lad beside him. He doubted the boy was but a few years older than his son, and he realised there and then what he needed to do.
He quickly jumped down from the wall and called the nearest Guild Master to his side. The man he selected was quite young for a Master but a face he knew quite well of late. “Kian!” The king shouted probably louder than he needed just to make himself heard over the noise. “Please do not argue or question what I’m about to say, but just do as I ask,” Haldar explained softening his tone just a little. Kian listened and although he wanted to say otherwise, he promised to carry out the king’s wishes.
Chapter 4.
A few at a time, the younger members of the guild were hurriedly led from the horrors of the ensuing battle now raging in the area of the main gateway leading up to the palace and guild buildings. Kian, being charged with their lead, gathered as many as he could delaying as long as possible as he looked back to see his king still standing with his sword aloft.
The plan was for him to get as many of the younger members out as possible. “Live to fight another day!” the king had told him, before quickly explaining what he had wanted him to do. The enemy was swarming in to the city and it was clear continuing the fight would prove little more than a slaughter. If Kian could lead away as many as possible, the king and those that remained would try and hold off the attack until they were clear, before surrendering to avoid any more loss of life.
Kian, being a Master of the guild had only just been made aware of the fact that several secret tunnels led away from the main building and out of the city. Despite the fact these passageways had been in place for hundreds of years, it was only since Mia’s capture and consequent questioning that they had been rediscovered. Being as they were still something new, at least to the current occupants of Surmont, only a few people new how to gain access to them.
Haldar looked along his defensive lines, now much fewer in number than they had been a short while before. His plan now was to give the escapees enough time to make a break for it, without suffering more casualties in doing so. Each life lost was a needless one, and once he thought it possible to do so, he would lay down his arms and surrender to the hordes still filling his city streets.
The walls of Surmont had been built thick and tall, and would normally have kept out even the strongest attackers. However, Haldar realised that relying on such a thing was now not feasible. Magic and alchemy had moved them into a new age of warfare, one he had to admit he had been unprepared for. Having relied on his guild to supply the small army of sorcerers, rangers and warriors at his disposal, he had always deemed that sufficient to keep Caldronia’s enemies at bay. With Belaria having an almost endless supply of people to draw from, and practicing in magical arts unbeknown to his own sorcerers, it was time to cut his losses.
A surrender may have sounded like giving up, but Haldar knew that this was not necessarily the end of his nation. Caldronia had suffered setbacks in the past and had clawed its way back each time. However, he was certain of one thing, that being that his small number of fighting men and women could not do it alone. An alliance would have to be forged somewhere, and with Farasavia already plundering his border towns, that ally was narrowed down to just Arandor.
Here was a vast country, larger in size than Belaria in land mass, although its population was more, they were somewhat sparsely spread out. Nevertheless, having such an ally would inevitably give Prince Kellan and those that remained the chance to come and restore order, even if in the meantime it meant Haldar having to suffer some time in his own prison cells. How long that rescue might be he could only guess, but he was certain it would be no time soon.
Unfortunately for Haldar the current ruler of Arandor was a mistrusting old woman, and as long as she remained at the helm he and his people had little chance of any assistance. However, as cruel as it might have sounded it was rumoured the Queen was ailing at an alarming rate. Last reports had her on her death bed, and with her passing, Haldar hoped her grandson whom was next to take the throne might just be a little more understanding to his cause.
With his mind wandering, Haldar realised the man whom had been fighting beside him was no longer standing, but instead on his knees with an enemy arrow protruding from his torso. Giving the order, two large hastily made white flags were lifted up behind his position, as the Caldronian king ordered his few remaining sorcerers to shield only, whilst they all stepped back. In doing this he hoped to allow the attackers a few moments to register what he was proposing, and duly hoped it was to be accepted.
Word spread quickly from the front line to Oribe, who was still sat atop of his weary looking horse further back down the main thoroughfare. News of the Caldronian’s surrender came as a surprise, albeit a very welcome one. The enemy were supposedly renowned fighters and yet here they were handing him the city. Moreover, if word from the front was to be believed it was none other than the king himself who had orchestrated the move.
Oribe made sure he had his own sorcerers walk beside him as he entered through the gates leading into the where the palace and guild buildings were situated. In all honest
y he was a little disappointed on first seeing them, and although he had to admit they were far grander than his own, they were not quite as spectacular as he had envisaged.
Oribe stood with a smile upon his face as the Caldronian king was shoved before him, held in place by two burly guards. “I am Oribe, King of Belaria,” he said introducing himself to the man he had just defeated. Haldar remained silent, and although he would have liked nothing more than to tell his invader exactly what he thought, he felt it would gain nothing if he did so. “And now of course I am King of Caldronia too. Take him away, I assume there is some kind of dungeon in one of these buildings.”
As the fallen Caldronian king was hauled away, he turned to see one of his guild sorcerers have to suffer a terrible death. One of the Belarian magicians was stood over the young man with his hand held atop of the sorcerer’s head. Having had the process explained to him, this was the first time Haldar had witnessed the life of another being drained, hoping he would never have to see it again. His own guild sorcerer, a young man probably in his late teen years, had the appearance of a shrivelled corpse as the drained body thumped to the ground.
Haldar had known that his surrender would likely mean the death of any of his captured sorcerers, especially as he knew from first hand experiences how difficult they were to keep prisoner. Unfortunately, some had been forced to remain, if only to give the impression the guild had substantial sorcerers to make a defence. Moreover, Haldar had also ordered some of the younger dead to have black robes put on them, to give the impression of numbers, hoping that his attackers would not think most had escaped. Whether that ruse had been successful, Haldar guessed only time would tell. For now, however, he would be forced in to incarceration.
Oribe had the remaining Caldronian forces rounded up, and for now at least, placed in a makeshift pen. A mixture of young and old, some clearly not soldiers at all but probably city folk forced into defending their homes. As for the people of Surmont, Oribe quickly ensured his own troops kept a large presence out on the streets. Notices were to be drawn up stating the people had nothing to fear so long as they accepted his rule. Those who tried to cause trouble were to be duly warned that the consequences in doing so would be severe.
Oribe wandered along the corridors of the Caldronian palace pausing just every now and then to gaze upon one of the many pictures that adorned the white walls. He stepped to one side to allow two of his guards leading a group of palace staff away down the same corridor. If he were to be stopping in the palace for a while he would need his own people waiting and serving him, he certainly did not trust the Caldronians to do so.
The Belarian king decided to have his meal brought up to his quarters, whilst he sat and read through the Caldronian king’s correspondence. Dozens of papers had been left unattended, indicating that the attack on the city had caught the palace’s previous occupants unaware. Most of the letters were trivial, some dealing with requests for supplies for both the palace and guild, whilst others were just notes from the City Guard.
The meal served up to him was far better than expected, especially when it had been made up by one of his own auxiliary staff that had travelled alongside his army. As he placed another fork full of beef into his mouth, he noticed a small folded note that had been brought to him with others from the king’s study. At first glance he thought the writing a little childlike, and as he read through it, realised that was because it was written by one. However, this was written by no ordinary child, as Oribe realised just who the letter was from.
The note was signed Kellan, and from the contents, had been written to his father. The significance had not been spotted straight away, and Oribe only realised it was a note between the King and his son when he spotted the royal seal at the bottom. He leaned back in his chair placing his fork down on the side of his plate. The king he had captured, but no child had been in the palace when his forces had scoured the building. The content of the note specifically mentioned returning home to Surmont, although Oribe could never know for sure whether that actually happened or indeed if it did, when?
After placing the note to one side and picking his cutlery up once more to take another bite of his meal, he pondered over the possibility of there being a young prince somewhere in hiding. Was the boy perhaps in the city at that moment? Surely if the attack had been as much a surprise as all the evidence pointed, there would have been little chance for anybody to escape. If this were indeed the case that could possibly mean the boy in question still being in Surmont.
After leaving it a while and finishing his food, Oribe stood and carried his wine glass over to the window. He looked out down onto the palace gardens at the back of the building where some of his men had set camp, making the place look somewhat untidy. He pondered on the note again, instantly dismissing it, thinking it probably mattered not if the Caldronian Prince was still out there. After all the city was secure, and soon other towns and villages would fall in line under his rule. Oribe decided that bothering about a young boy who was helpless to do anything was not worth the mither.
Chapter 5.
Leo pushed open the narrow metal gate. The tunnel had turned and twisted, often narrowing making it only possible to move single file, and now eventually they had reached its end. Quite how long they had been walking through the darkness he had no idea, but it had seemed a while.
After struggling to move the gate, which looked like it had not been opened in a good many years, Leo squinted as the daylight was too bright for his eyes. Squeezing through the opening he found himself faced with a large rock just a pace or two in front of him. The rock being there was not a problem as he just stepped around it and out into what appeared an area of woodland. “They probably put the boulder there to cover the gateway should anybody be passing,” he heard the familiar voice of his friend Alec say from behind him. Leo nodded, “Makes sense,” he mumbled as he scanned the area around him.
Leo was a little confused as he could not even see the capital Surmont. “It’s that way Leo,” Alec said realising what he was looking for. “Just over that hill. As long as it took us to walk the through the tunnel, we are only about a mile from the capital,” he added.
“I wonder how we are doing?”
“I can’t hear any more explosions, but I’m not sure that is a good thing or a bad,” Alec replied.
The prince was next to appear, quickly followed by Jon, the young ranger, with the others filing out after them. “Jon, whilst we gather our bearings, can you take a run up that hill and have a look at what’s happening?” Alec asked turning to the rather diminutive figure. He may have been young in years and small in stature, but Jon was certainly quick and agile. Without even giving a reply, the youngster was off, not even giving Leo a chance to say he would go with him.
Leo decided whilst they were waiting he would at least take the opportunity to unburden himself of the bags he was carrying. The one with the books inside was certainly heavy, and the straps were digging in to him. He turned to look as the rest of the group as they all gathered around.
Aside from the prince, Alec, Chad and Jon, Leo counted six others. Two from the sorcery guild whom he did not know, a white robed healer, and three very young looking soldiers. They were all nothing more than a bunch of children, and yet they were to make their own way to Arandor, across dangerous lands not even knowing for sure they would be welcomed even if they got there unharmed. Leo was a little surprised when he realised the healer was actually a girl. At first glance he had assumed her to be a boy, such was her appearance.
The three soldiers, all new recruits from the warrior guild were called Marlo, Lucas and Wilf. The two sorcerers, a girl and a boy both similar in age to himself were Beth and Anden, with the healer being called Sara. With all the introductions completed, Alec, suggested they wait for Jon to return before he explain to them all exactly what was going on; It was only then that Leo realised the others were probably as much in the dark as he was.
Jon was back much soo
ner than Leo thought was possible, considering the distance the lad would have had to have run. All eyes turned to the young ranger as he gathered his breath, leaning forward just a little with his hand on his side. “Can you see anything that might suggest an outcome?” Alec eventually asked, being patient and allowing Jon to have a moment to catch his breath first.
The look on the ranger’s face gave the answer they all dreaded, but the youngster explained what he saw nonetheless. “I can see a huge army just south of the city, and it appears they are just walking in unopposed.”
A few moments passed whilst the others comprehended what had just been said. Leo immediately turned to look at the rather worried looking prince, as the concern for his father was quite evident. “Alec perhaps we should head out,” he suggested thinking it for the best, although he had no idea which way he should actually be going.
Fortunately for Leo, Alec had a map and a predefined route marked upon it. More importantly, his friend also knew how to read it, a skill he was not particularly blessed with. Once the literary apprentice had gotten his bearings, he pointed a general direction they should be moving in. Jon, as the most-nimble and the only Ranger amongst them, was to scout out ahead just to make sure they were not walking in to any trouble. However, Alec had thought that unlikely as all the Belarian forces would likely be focused on the capital; Leo just hoped he was right.
The King's Sorcerer (The Caldronian Guild Book 3) Page 3