by Jon Kiln
“They do mean to attack you,” interjected Arexos.
“Did I tell you to speak?” roared Qutaybah. “How dare you interrupt the conversation of your masters!”
“I’m sorry master, but Duke Harald does mean to launch an attack against Vandemland,” insisted Arexos. “It’s the reason that I am here… it’s the reason that I was captured and sold as a slave.”
“What are you talking about?” growled Qutaybah, turning to look intently at his young slave.
“Before I belonged to you, I was a page to a man called Henrickson. He was the chief military adviser to Duke Harald of Palara,” said Arexos quickly.
“Go on… I’m listening.”
“Duke Harald sent Henrickson on a secret mission into Vandemland to assess the strengths and weaknesses, and to develop a plan of attack so that Palara could seize control of the territory. We paid a gang of Narc smugglers to get us across the border, but they betrayed us and sold us into slavery instead. I was bought by your household,” finished Arexos.
“And Henrickson? What happened to him?” demanded Qutaybah.
“I’m not sure. I never saw him again.”
Qutaybah nodded, a glimmer in his eye. He lay back in the bath and Arexos resumed massaging his broad muscular shoulders.
“You become more and more useful to me each day, boy,” smiled Qutaybah. “So… the threat from Palara is real. I guess the question is, how do we respond? What sort of numbers can the Duchess muster against the armies of Palara?” asked Qutaybah, turning towards Yazid.
“She only has a small standing army. She has begun calling up the farmers and tradesmen of the Berghein Valley.”
“Farmers and tradesmen,” guffawed Qutaybah. “She is going to need more than farmers and tradesmen to take on Duke Harald!”
“I imagine that is why she has reached out to us,” suggested Yazid.
“I imagine that is precisely why she has reached out to us,” agreed Qutaybah. “But perhaps our interests have begun to align with the Duchess D’Anjou… an intriguing development. What I don’t understand is why has she has approached us directly? She hasn’t gone to the Caliphate of Vandemland to seek a formal alliance? She seeks to engage us as mercenaries? But then again, she may have done that, and the Caliphate is sensibly trying to keep some distance until this feud between his neighbors has played out. We have received no communication from the Caliphate on this?”
“Nothing, sir,” confirmed Yazid. “Although the messenger from the Duchess asked specifically for you, and knew that you would be here at Villa Salamah.”
“I see. Well, if we took our company of one hundred soldiers to the Berghein Valley and joined forces with the Duchess, it would certainly boost her fighting capability, but we would still be vastly outnumbered by the armies of the Kingdom of Palara. But then I can’t believe that a woman as clever as the Duchess is planning to engage in a fight that she has no chance of winning. I imagine that she has a few tricks up her sleeve. She always does.” Qutaybah closed his eyes. He appeared to be thinking, or sleeping. Arexos couldn’t really tell.
“What are your orders, sir?” prompted Yazid.
“We will answer the call of the Duchess,” replied Qutaybah firmly, opening his eyes suddenly and startling Arexos. “Gather our men. We will ride at sunrise. Let’s see what Duke Harald has in store for us all.”
47
“Thank you, Ganry,” said Myriam faintly, walking up behind the mercenary and placing a hand gently on his shoulder.
“Why are you thanking me?” Ganry continued to stare into the glowing embers of the fire that he had taken charge of lighting, as they had made camp for the evening. He knelt beside the fire, poking and prodding the logs that were now steadily burning.
“Because I would never have survived without you. I wouldn’t have made it past that first night when Leonidavus smuggled me away from the castle and found you in that inn. Without you, I would have been captured by my uncle Harald, and who knows what would have happened to me. Well, I guess it’s pretty obvious what would have happened to me. I would have been killed.”
“We have had some adventures, haven’t we!” chortled Ganry, turning from the fire to look up at Myriam.
“You know that my grandmother will reward you richly for delivering me safely.”
“I’m not here for the money. Not anymore. I think my mercenary days are behind me.”
“You could leave now if you want?” offered Myriam. “Zander can take me to Castle Locke. If you leave now you will be able to avoid Harald’s troops and make your way to safety.”
“I’m not leaving you now. If anyone is going to deliver you to your grandmother, it will be me.”
“But you have risked so much for me,” protested Myriam. “You have given up everything. You have even lost Bluebell. I owe my life to you.”
“You have already given me something more valuable than all the gold in the kingdom. You have given me hope. You have given me a reason to live… a reason to fight… a reason to believe that the future might be worth sticking around for.”
There was a small polite cough behind them.
“Oh, hello Ghaffar,” said Myriam, turning to see the small monk standing behind them.
“I have come to say farewell,” said Ghaffar.
“Must you go, Ghaffar? Won’t you come with us?”
“My place is here in this forest,” replied the monk, shaking his head.
“But won’t the Lake Men be angry with you?” asked Ganry. “They will know that you have helped us, won’t they?”
“I don’t need to worry about the Lake Men,” smiled Ghaffar. “They fear my knowledge, and they fear the water dragons that protect my temple. You will be safe now. Zander knows the way back to the Berghein Valley from here. Soon your journey will be over.” Myriam embraced the monk warmly before he slipped away into the darkness. Remaining as much a mystery as ever.
“Somehow I don’t feel as if my journey will end when we reach Castle Locke.” Myriam stared off into the darkness that had swallowed the departing Ghaffar. “Somehow I feel that we’re not even at the end of the beginning, if that makes sense.”
“I think I know what you mean. However, I guess the next move depends on what sort of reception we get when we reach your grandmother.”
“How so?”
“Well, your grandmother has always been an ally of the Kingdom of Palara. She may not want to risk upsetting Harald by causing any sort of trouble. She may counsel that you simply accept that you have lost the crown, but be thankful that you have escaped with your life.”
Myriam sat down on the floor next to Ganry. “I see your point, but Harald’s treatment of my family is inexcusable. I have an obligation to the people of Palara to reclaim the throne, no matter what the cost is!”
“I thought you might say that. Why don’t we ask Zander what his understanding of the situation is?”
Ganry and Myriam left the fire and walked across the clearing to where Zander was tending the horses.
“Princess, is everything okay?” asked Zander as they approached.
“Yes, I’m fine thank you, Zander. I was just wanting to ask you about my grandmother.”
“The Duchess? Of course, what would you like to know?”
“Do you know what her intentions are?”
“I’m not sure that I understand you, Princess. What do you mean by ‘her intentions’?”
“I think what Myriam is interested in is whether you have any insight into what support the Duchess might be willing to offer Myriam in order to reclaim the throne of Palara,” added Ganry.
“Oh, I see. To be honest, I’m not really sure. When she sent me on this mission to find you, her primary concern was your safety, and also that of your mother, Alissia. At that stage, I don’t think she’d thought beyond bringing you to Castle Locke. I guess that doesn’t really help you much.”
“That’s okay. Thanks, Zander,” said Myriam. “Getting to Castle Locke is really
all that I’ve been able to think of anyway. I’m not sure how I would go about raising an army, or launching some sort of attack on Harald.”
“The Duchess has a lot of experience in how to wield power. She has ruled the Berghein Valley since the death of her father. She has had to defend her people countless times over the years. She won’t be intimidated by any man, let alone by Duke Harald.”
“I am looking forward to meeting the Duchess D’Anjou,” grinned Ganry. “She sounds like quite a woman.”
48
“Explain yourself!” roared Clay, the chief of the Lake Men.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, uncle,” protested Linz.
“Do not take me for a fool!” Clay grabbed Linz roughly by the throat. “I should slice you into little pieces and feed you to the Polopons for your treachery! You have endangered us all! You have endangered the very existence of our people!”
“Brother! Please!” begged Linz’s mother, Lisl, grabbing hold of Clay’s arm and trying to free her son from his grasp.
Clay slapped Lisl away with the back of his hand. “Silence! My men have told me that you took the prisoners from the fishing outpost. And now Myriam is missing. The girl that was to be your wife! Why would you dare to disobey me? To deceive me? To betray me?”
“I didn’t want to marry Myriam. It made no sense. She’s a princess.” Linz was barely able to form the words due to his uncle’s tight grip on his neck.
“What do you mean that you didn’t want to marry her?” demanded the enraged Clay. “What you want or don’t want is irrelevant here! If you are to lead this tribe then you need a wife.”
“But you don’t have a wife.”
“Enough with your insolence!” Clay threw Linz to the floor of the wooden building that was their home. “Our very existence depends on us being invisible to the world beyond this forest, and you have thrown that away just because you don’t want to take a wife. How dare you! How dare you!”
“Clay… please,” sobbed Lisl. “He’s just a boy, he didn’t understand what he was doing. Please don’t hurt him.”
“Maybe it’s time we stopped hiding, uncle? Maybe it’s time that we took our place in this world?”
“Who are you to question our way of life?” glared Clay. “You may as well set a match to our homes or poison the lake on which we live. You know nothing of the struggles of our people, our fight to survive against the greed of the warrior Terrick.”
“You have taught me everything I know. I am the man that you have made me to be.”
“You are no man. You are a willful, impetuous boy. Get out of my sight.” Lisl rushed to Linz to help him stand. “Get out of my sight! Now! Go!” raged Clay.
When they had returned to their own quarters, Lisl tended to the bumps and scrapes that Linz had suffered at the hands of his uncle.
“Why did you disobey him?” chided Lisl. “Why didn’t you simply do as you were told and marry that girl?”
“I couldn’t, mother. It was a silly idea to capture a princess, force her into marriage, and expect no consequences.”
“You didn’t find her attractive? I thought she was quite nice looking?”
“It wasn’t that.” Linz sighed, and shook his head sadly. He knew that he had disappointed his mother. He knew that he had angered his uncle. He knew that he hadn’t been able to live up to their expectations, as ludicrous as they may have been.
“Hey, cheer up,” soothed Lisl, mis-understanding the pain that her son was feeling. Lisl leaned forward and kissed Linz on the forehead. “I’ll speak with your uncle when he has calmed down a little. It’s best that you stay out of sight for a while. Why don’t you hop into bed.”
Leaving her son to rest, Lisl returned to her brother, Clay, who was still pacing and fuming.
“Did I hurt him?” asked Clay, concerned for the well-being of his nephew.
“He’s okay, just a bit confused and upset. Have the scouts found anything?”
“It looks like they’ve had assistance from the old monk who guards the river. They are beyond our reach now.”
“Do you think we are in danger?”
“We are always in danger, but we have just lost the one advantage that we have always had. We are no longer hidden. We may need to leave this lake, head deeper into the forest, build a new home somewhere beyond the reach of the outside world.”
“Perhaps there is another way?” suggested Lisl.
“What do you mean? What would you have me do?”
“Perhaps Linz has a point. Maybe it is time for us to stop hiding? If the girl, Myriam, took the throne of Palara, then she could grant us this lake as our own. It could be a way of protecting our future.”
“But she is on the run from her uncle. She is unlikely to be of any use to us,” dismissed Clay.
“I would like to send Linz to help her.”
“Out of the question. The boy knows nothing of the outside world.”
“He knows enough,” insisted Lisl.
“What if he doesn’t return? What if he never comes back? What then?”
“He is my son. He will come back. Let me take him to see the monk. I have a feeling that Linz could be the key to our future, not the end of our present.”
“You talk in riddles, but I know better than to argue with you, sister. You were always far cleverer than I was.”
“Linz reminds me a lot of you when you were younger,” smiled Lisl.
Clay sighed. “That’s what worries me.”
49
“What secrets do you hold within you?” Myriam hefted her dagger, Harkan, as she admired the sun’s morning light glinting off the stones inlaid on its hilt. She held out her hand on which she wore the ring that also bore the same stonework. Next to each other, they seemed to dazzle in the rays of the sun.
“Zander,” asked Myriam, “can I have the dagger that my grandmother gave to you?”
“Of course, Princess, here it is.” Zander gave a small bow as he handed over the small blade that matched the ring and the dagger already held by Myriam.
Myriam carefully turned it over in her hands, studying the designs and engravings, comparing them, admiring them.
Barnaby approached and spoke softly. “Hendon has a ring just like yours. He wears it around his neck.”
“Really?” said Myriam surprised. “Hendon?” She looked over her shoulder to where Hendon was talking with Artas. “Can I see your ring, please?”
“Of course.” Hendon took off the chain around his neck which held the ring, holding it out towards Myriam as he approached her.
“Stay with me,” she said, taking Hendon’s ring in her hand. “Look at the stones… see how they’re shining?”
“They’re beautiful,” acknowledged Hendon.
“In this light I can see more of the detail, more of the engravings on each piece.” Myriam showed them to Hendon. “See how my ring and dagger have matching symbols? And look… the dagger that Zander was carrying, the one that was sent by my grandmother, it has the same symbols as your ring. Your ring and my grandmother’s dagger are a pair. What do you think that means?”
Hendon studied the rings and daggers that Myriam held. “I don’t know. It belonged to my mother. I don’t know anything else about it.”
“But where was your mother from?” pushed Myriam.
“I don’t know… my father would never tell me anything about her.”
“I can’t believe that we found you that day in the forest just by accident. It’s almost as if the stones were drawing us together, that we were meant to find each other.”
“You know that you two look a bit alike,” said Ganry bluntly, joining their conversation.
“Really?” asked Myriam. “Do you really think so?”
“I didn’t see it at first, but the more time I spend with you, the more obvious it becomes. There’s something about the lines of your face that match each other. Maybe you’re distant relations or something.”
“And w
hat do you think about the stones, Ganry? Have you ever seen anything like them before? Why do you think that they seem to shine brighter when they are close to each other?”
“They are pretty special, aren’t they,” admired Ganry, taking one of the daggers from Myriam’s hand and turning it over carefully, as it caught the light of the morning sun. “They’re not stones that I’ve ever seen before. They seem very old.”
“Do you think that they could be magic?” asked Hendon.
“There’s no such thing as magic, not that I’ve seen. There’s no magic in stones, no magic in forests, no magic in animals, and no magic in water dragons that look like snakes.”
“You seem to be pretty sure of that,” laughed Myriam.
“Trust me,” winked Ganry, “when you get to be as old as I am, you’ll realize that if you want something in life you have to make it happen yourself. Wishing on a star, casting coins into a stream, kissing a rabbit, none of these things will make the slightest bit of difference. The only way that you can change the world around you or alter the course of your fate is if you do something about it.”
“Maybe your problem, Ganry, is that you don’t believe?” suggested Barnaby. “If you don’t believe in magic, then of course you won’t understand its power.”
“Do you believe in magic, Barnaby?” asked Myriam.
“Of course,” nodded the old man. “How else do you explain the fates bringing us together? How else do you explain our escape from the Lake Men? How else do you explain Zander being able to find us in the forest? There are clearly higher powers at work. We might not be able to see them or understand them, but that doesn’t mean that there are not forces out there, guiding us and protecting us.”
“Fair enough. I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree. You believe in magic if you want, I’ll continue to believe in the blade of my sword.”
“Stop bickering, you two!” laughed Myriam. “Hopefully grandmother will be able to shed some light on these mysteries when we get to Castle Locke. Meanwhile, I guess we’d better get moving. Lead on, Zander! The Berghein Valley awaits!”