The Veredor Chronicles: Book 03 - The Gate and Beyond

by E J Gilmour

  Red looked away and nodded reluctantly. He still felt there must have been something he could have done to save his friend.

  Cassiel stood up and walked over to them. ‘There are muckron scouts on the far bank,’ he said as he pointed out across the river.

  Red and Stella quickly turned and looked out at the far bank. About a hundred and fifty yards away across the water stood four hairy pig headed muckrons. Red drew his sword, but it was more of a symbolic gesture as the muckrons were no danger to them. For a few moments the muckrons watched them; they then turned and ran into the hinterland.

  ‘Foul creatures,’ said Red disdainfully.

  **

  The Irvarian army set out before dawn and kept a solid pace throughout the day. King Edric was keen to arrive at the Morris Bridge as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to allow the enemy army to cut off the road to Jeriel’s Field. Red, Meara, and Stella rode near to the front of the column of troops. Acartor, Meara, Mostyn, Princess Apherah, and King Edric rode at the very front of the army.

  ‘There are three riders approaching,’ said King Edric, pointing toward the hilly country to the north.

  The riders galloped across the meadows toward the Irvarian army. Red instantly recognised the lead rider as Sir Ronan, the Fiorian who had been introduced with Chiara and Acartor at the council in Faircastle. He was followed by two other riders.

  ‘Welcome, Sir Ronan,’ said King Edric, a sense of gladness in his voice.

  ‘We are happy to have found you,’ said Sir Ronan. ‘I would like to introduce you to the Fiorian Clare and the Fiorian Winfred. Clare was a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties. Her beauty was enchanting; she had long dark hair and large grey eyes. Winfred was a stern looking man with a shaggy red beard and bright red hair.

  ‘What news do you bring of the Far Western Lands?’ asked Acartor.

  Sir Ronan shook his head sadly. ‘Little remains in the west. We have been consistently outmatched by the muckron armies. Several weeks ago our forts in Iarthar were overrun. We retreated into Dravania, but the muckrons were relentless in their pursuit. We then joined with the main Dravanian army and hoped to push back the muckron advance. Ten days ago we challenged the enemy force in the south of Dravania. We were massively outnumbered and were forced to retreat to the Iril Fortress. The three of us then left to seek your assistance. We didn’t expect to find you facing such a powerful enemy army so close to Faircastle.’

  ‘The end is near,’ said Acartor flatly. ‘The Prince of Shadows has sent one hundred thousand muckrons to finish us.’

  ‘Then you will not be able to send reinforcements to the Iril Fortress.’

  ‘Regrettably we have no soldiers to spare,’ said King Edric. ‘However, if we win we will send help, and the battle is only days away.’

  ‘We cannot win. All hope has already been lost,’ muttered Acartor.

  Sir Ronan stared harshly at Acartor for several moments. ‘Such words are not keeping with a knight of the Fiorian Order.’

  ‘My words are nothing but the truth, Ronan. It seems that I am the only man who is being practical. You know as well as I do that death will be the only outcome if we choose to fight the Prince of Shadows. There is still a chance to negotiate. We can end all this destruction.’

  ‘Acartor, surely you know that there can be no negotiation with such an enemy,’ said Ronan. ‘The Prince of Shadows would make us less than slaves and take our humanity from us. It is better to live free and die free; you should know that, Acartor.’

  ‘Ordinarily I would agree with you, Ronan,’ replied Acartor coolly. ‘Yet such a choice will extinguish the race of men. Will you stand by, Ronan, and watch as our race is completely destroyed? We can make the right choice and end this war, or we can follow a foolish path into oblivion.’

  Sir Ronan pondered Acartor’s words for a moment before speaking. ‘Men are only men if they are free. The spirit rises only in the light of truth. We are free, and because we are free we can freely choose to be true. The Prince of Shadows would enslave our minds if we took the path that you suggest. Why do you seek to influence us to choose a path into darkness? You belong to the Fiorian Knights; you should know better.’ For several moments the two Fiorians stared at each other harshly. ‘You also know our race lives elsewhere in the cosmos. We came to Veredor as invited guests in the Forgotten Age. The world of men still abides far across the cosmos. Men will live on regardless of the outcome of this battle. You know all these secrets, Acartor. Why do you make such suggestions?’

  Acartor sneered at Ronan as he turned his horse. He rode away toward the back of the army without saying another word.

  ‘I apologize for my kinsman’s words,’ said Ronan, a look of worry etched into his face. ‘It seems that he has not coped well with his Fiorian responsibilities. I will speak to him privately later.’

  King Edric’s eyes followed Acartor as he rode away.

  ‘Will you ride with us to meet with our allies at Jeriel’s Field?’ asked Apherah.

  ‘Certainly,’ replied Ronan. ‘We would be honoured to fight by your side.’

  **

  The army continued for the remainder of the day. As the evening approached they arrived at the Morris Bridge. The bluestone bridge spanned the river at a point where the banks came within a hundred yards of each other. The bridge was wide enough for a wagon to pass and formed a gradual arch across the water. The clear water of the Adira River flowed quickly by. Across the river were wide meadows with patchy groups of elm trees dotted about the landscape.

  ‘We will set up camp on the southern side of the river,’ said King Edric. ‘Tomorrow we will march to Jeriel’s Field. King Ignis and his army will be waiting for us.’

  The army slowly crossed the bridge and began pitching tents and building campfires in one of the meadows about five hundred yards east of the bridge. Red and Stella pitched their tent and built a small campfire. As twilight descended they walked down to the riverside and watched the water flow by.

  ‘I am looking forward to seeing King Ignis again,’ said Stella. ‘He is like the father I never had.’

  ‘It will be difficult to tell him about Eben’s death,’ said Red.

  ‘We will tell him that Eben died a hero and fought to the very end. In the coming days we may face the very same fate.’

  Red nodded as his eyes watched the fast flowing water. The image of Eben descending into the crashing waves again flashed through his mind. He knew his opportunity to avenge Eben was near.

  Suddenly his eyes caught sight of a dark shape in the water further upstream. The body of a man was being washed downstream. Within seconds the current of the river brought the man near to where Red and Stella were sitting. Instantly they could see he was still alive and bleeding from a wound to his chest.

  ‘Look, it is Ronan,’ cried Red.

  Red immediately leapt into the river. The swift current pulled Red downstream as he swam furiously to reach Ronan. Within a few moments he grabbed a hold of the Fiorian. With all his might he dragged him to the shore. Stella reached down and helped Red pull Ronan onto the riverbank. The Fiorian’s complexion was deathly pale, and his wound was deep. His head fell back. He was clearly near to death. Stella pressed some cloth over the wound and supported his head.

  ‘Sir Red…you have to…save King Edric…’ stammered Ronan in a weak voice that was little more than a whisper. ‘Acartor…he is a traitor…he’s a Skathean…the Morris Bridge…go, Sir Red.’

  ‘A Skathean!’ repeated Stella in shock.

  ‘It is… too late…the wound is to my heart…you… must go…now...save the King!’

  Ronan closed his eyes and could not say another word. Red stood up and drew his sword.

  ‘Go, Red! I will stay with Ronan!’ Stella grabbed his hand. ‘Be careful, Red.’

  Red kissed Stella and then ran upstream toward the Morris Bridge. His heart thumped in his chest. He sprinted along the bank with all the energy he could muster. The bridge wasn�
��t far, perhaps several hundred yards away.

  Ahead he could see two figures on the bridge in the darkening twilight. The image grew clearer as he approached. King Edric was on his knees, battered and wounded, and above him stood Acartor who was holding his sword up and ready to strike. Red stepped onto the bridge and drew his sword. Acartor turned to face him, a sly grin crossing his face.

  ‘Sir Red, what a pleasant surprise. You are just in time to witness the execution of an Irvarian king. Are you so intent on interrupting such an important occasion?’

  ‘It was you!’ cried Red. ‘You led Eben into a trap! You killed my friend.’

  Acartor laughed with contempt. ‘Don’t be so sentimental. Eben Ecorian was a fool and deserved to die. Yes, I gave him the opportunity to end this war in the only way that it could be ended. He caused his own death when he refused to serve the Prince of Shadows. Veredor belongs to the Lord of Veredor. Eben made the wrong decision and died for his foolishness.’

  Red cried out and charged at the Skathean. He swung his blade with all his might, but Acartor dodged the attack with ease and slashed Red across the chest, penetrating his armour and leaving a long shallow gash. Red stumbled back as Acartor smirked and stepped after him.

  ‘You disgust me, Sir Red. You are nothing more than a fool with some powerful friends. Killing you will be a pleasure,’ hissed Acartor with a sly grin.

  Red cried out in fury and again charged forward, but Acartor dashed aside and tripped him over. As Red fell Acartor thumped him in the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. Red’s sword fell from his hand. He lay in a heavy daze on the cold stony surface of the bridge. The world was spinning around him. He couldn’t clearly see Acartor or where his sword had fallen.

  King Edric started to get up. Acartor turned and pointed his sword at the monarch. ‘Patience, Your Highness, I will attend to you shortly. Just give me a moment to finish this reckless fool.’

  ‘Enough!’ cried Meara’s voice. Red looked to see Meara had stepped onto the bridge. Her hands were glowing with blue light, and her bright turquoise coloured eyes stared defiantly at Acartor. The Skathean glared back at Meara; the sly gloating expression left his face and was replaced by a cold scowl. ‘I see you have betrayed the Fiorian Order and joined the Skatheans. Prepare yourself, Acartor; your consequences have arrived.’

  Acartor laughed. ‘You are no match for me, Irilian.’

  ‘We will see!’ said Meara coolly.

  A moment later a hundred glowing blue darts raced through the air. The entire bridge lit up with shimmering blue light. Acartor leapt back and used his sword to deflect the darts as he simultaneously dodged others with an awesome display of agility. Several of the darts struck him, but he seemed uninjured. Meanwhile Red got to his feet and helped King Edric away from the confrontation. Acartor then advanced with great speed. Meara lifted her hands and forks of lightning blasted toward the Skathean. Acartor howled and a black smoke gathered around him and protected him from the lightning. Meara lowered her hands and stared at him.

  ‘What have you become, Acartor? Have you given over everything to the enemy?’

  ‘I was instructed in the ways of power by the Lord of Veredor. He has given me power beyond anything you can imagine. My power has grown beyond all that men can hope for.’ He slowly approached her.

  ‘The shadow you have allowed into your heart has taken all your power from you, Acartor. You have allowed yourself to become a slave. You must turn away from the darkness.’

  Acartor laughed and mocked Meara. ‘Is this your way of pleading for your life? Do you really hope to save me? Foolish, Meara, very foolish. Know this: I chose to walk into the night. I knew exactly what I was choosing. I am not afraid of the darkness because I am the most dangerous being living in the darkness. I conspired to destroy the last hope of men. I led the Ecorian into a trap and watched him die.’ A shady grin crossed Acartors lips. ‘Now, Meara, I will give you a glimpse of the shadow living within me. In a few moments you will wish you were never born.’ He continued to approach her.

  Meara shook her head regrettably. She reached into her cloak and drew forth a bright glowing crystal. The sight of the crystal stopped Acartor in his tracks. He stood and stared at Meara with wide eyes for a moment. ‘The Irilian Star, surely you are not the leader of the Irilians!’

  ‘Yes, I am. From antiquity the Irilians have prepared the Irilian Star to shine as a light against the darkness. The vision and hope of the Irilian Order stands with me. Your heart lies beneath a veil of shadows. You cannot hide in the shadows forever, Acartor. ’

  The bridge started to shake and beams of light rushed up from the cold stones. The dark smoke surrounding Acartor instantly dissipated. Meara raised her hand and a bright blue shockwave blasted forth. Acartor lifted his sword to parry, but the shockwave knocked him over and sent him tumbling backward. He staggered to his feet and stumbled back along the bridge with his sword still in hand. Fear was clearly evident in his eyes as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  ‘You may have won today, but we both know that this army of men will never defeat the Prince of Shadows! We will meet again, Meara; then I will repay you for what you have done here tonight.’ He leapt from the bridge into the fast flowing water below and drifted out of sight into the night. Meara watched the water for a few moments and then returned to King Edric and Red.

  **

  Later in the evening King Edric was seated in the command tent with Red, Stella, Baftel, Meara, Cassiel, Arlen, Mostyn, the Fiorians Clare and Winfred, and several other wizards of the Fire Order. Princess Apherah sat at King Edric’s side. They had been informed that the Fiorian Ronan had died from his wounds.

  King Edric had recovered from the ordeal on the bridge. He was battered and bruised, yet he had not been seriously injured by Acartor. The revelation that they had been betrayed had hurt him deeply. A strong anger had taken hold of the King. Red could sense that beneath the anger was a feeling of guilt for allowing himself to be misled and all the lives that had been lost.

  ‘I have failed my people. From the beginning Acartor has been working against us. I trusted him blindly. He has been serving the Prince of Shadows ever since he first came to Faircastle. He requested that I call a council of all the southern monarchs in order to set a trap. He was never a prisoner in the Dungeons of Zarkanor; he was a co-conspirator and a servant of the enemy. Crescent Bay was a ploy to divert our forces away from Irvaria. His plan was to draw out the Ecorian and to leave our lands defenceless. We have been completely betrayed.’

  ‘None of us knew Acartor was a traitor,’ said Baftel. ‘His treachery was even hidden from me and I am a seer.’

  ‘It is likely that Acartor was trained in such treachery by the Prince of Shadows,’ said Meara.

  ‘Yes. What Meara says is true,’ said the Fiorian Clare. ‘Acartor, in turning to the shadow, has joined the Skathean Order, but his powers are beyond that of a normal Skathean. He has been trained by the Prince of Shadows. He was one of the most powerful Fiorians. Now that he has fallen he will be one of the most powerful Skatheans. Deception, lies, deceit; all of this he has learned from the enemy. It is not surprising that he deceived us all.’

  King Edric nodded, but Clare’s words did little to reduce his feeling of responsibility. He looked to Red. ‘Sir Red, without you I would be dead. Your bravery saved my life.’

  ‘I did what I could, but I was no match for the traitor. Without Meara we would both be dead.’

  King Edric looked to Meara. ‘What Sir Red says is true, without you, Meara, we would have both been victims of the traitor. I will send several brigades to capture him in the morning. He will pay dearly for his treachery.’

  ‘Acartor would kill anyone you sent after him,’ said Meara. ‘I doubt any of your men could come close to matching his skills. By now he would be far beyond our reach.’

  ‘Meara is right,’ said Baftel. ‘Acartor fled quickly into the south. He is making his way to join the enemy army.’<
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  ‘Then he will take all our plans back to the Prince of Shadows,’ said King Edric.

  ‘I can assure you that the enemy already knows our plan,’ said Mostyn. ‘Astarians can see things that are far away as if they were near. Whatever Acartor tells him will not alter the outcome of the battle. The Prince of Shadows already knows we are marching to join with the Ortarians. He knows we plan to make a final stand. Even with all this knowledge he doesn’t doubt his ability to destroy us.’

  ‘Tomorrow we will join with our allies at Jeriel’s Field,’ said King Edric. ‘Together we will show the Prince of Shadows that we are not afraid.’

  **

  Red rode with Stella toward the front of the long line of troops. Thick rolling clouds covered the entire sky and a deep gloominess had settled over all the land. King Edric insisted that they keep a great pace. The deepening gloom was taking its toll on the morale of the army. Red could feel a certain sense of hopelessness had been growing throughout the day. They all knew that they were marching to face an enemy army that was far beyond their capability. As the day progressed a song broke out among the ranks. It wasn’t clear who wrote the words, but before long the entire army was singing the song and it brought hope back to all the soldiers.

  Even as the night falls, the Irvarians people will stand tall. Even if the sunlight fades, Irvarians will always be brave. Forever let it be known, that we stood tall to protect our home. And even in the darkest night, in our hearts we hold the light.

  Late in the afternoon the Irvarian army crossed over a ridge. The Ortarian army came into sight. Jeriel’s Field was a wide meadow, about four hundred yards across, that covered an area at the base of a shallow valley. Only a few old elm trees grew in the valley, and a crystal clear stream wound its way toward the north in the direction of the Adira River. Gradual slopes rose toward two opposing ridges at either sides of the meadow. The Ortarians, Scaldonians, and Empyrian armies had gathered on the eastern rise above the field and had already formed ranks. A sea of red Ortarian flags blew in the gentle breeze. A strong feeling of hope grew among the Irvarian troops at the sight of their allies.