The Longsword Chronicles: Book 01 - King of Ashes

by GJ Kelly

  "Thank you."

  "You're welcome. I recall the days after Raheen, and wandering Callodon still caked in its ash. No amount of comfort could have reached me then, save for the total destruction of those responsible for my loss. You might consider who it is that corrupts the noble dream you have held dear for so long, for he lies yonder, across the Teeth, and I intend to vex the blackhearted bastard with every breath I take, including my last. Some company on that journey would be welcome, Allazar."

  "Aye. Aye, Longsword, some company you shall have."

  Days and nights in Tarn were a constant clatter of hooves upon cobbles as fast riders bore dispatches, and slow riders moved to and from hastily-erected barracks. An air of grim determination pervaded all hearths and homes. Lovers loved with intensity, passion fuelled by the knowledge of desperate times ahead. Old disputes and older feuds were forgotten, and new friendships forged in the fires of imminent war. That the enemy was already occupying Threlland soil was a shame that all wished to redress, regardless of the fact that the land occupied was shame in itself. Yet great measures were made to conceal the garrison from any watchful eyes that might peer across the farak gorin.

  Soon, even ordinary men and women took to wearing blouses and tunics open at the front from neck to navel save for a single button, and those that didn't were regarded with such suspicion that buttons and lacing were soon undone that breastbone and midriff were exposed for all to see. It did not take long for the fashion to spread all across Threlland, particularly with increasing sunshine and warmer weather.

  Soon word reached Lord Rak and Gawain that two wizards had been slain, one in the Castle Town and one in the southern provinces bordering Mornland. Both had struggled fiercely against having their robes parted, and paid with their lives. Both were found covered with strange symbols inked all over their torsos, and a later search revealed black aquamire lenses in their chambers.

  Nor did the fashion for wearing such revealing dress stop at the borders of the Black Hills. Mornlander border-guards, on learning of the reason for the strange new apparel, soon took to paying close attention to travellers crossing into their land, and of course Jurian guardsmen soon followed suit.

  Gawain was astounded at how readily the common people quietly took to this admirable precaution, and steadfastly went about their business with nothing but defence of their realm foremost in their minds. If kings could be persuaded to act likewise, the Ramoths would never have passed south of the Teeth, and nor would Morloch's army.

  Gawain was also astounded by the depth of his feelings for Elayeen. Once, while he was assisting Sarek in training regular forces in the use of darkening cloths and camouflage, he was obliged to spend a full day and a night on the slopes, several hours' ride from Tarn. While he lurked in the shadows in the darkest of hours, stealing up on any Threllandmen he could see to tap them on the shoulder and pronounce them 'dead', he found himself yearning for her with an ache that was physical. He shuddered, and wondered what agony it must have been for her to have been parted from him for so long.

  Then a sudden wave of calm washed over him, and hours later, just before dawn, as he crept towards a clump of ferns from which he'd heard the slightest of unusual sounds, he smiled behind his blackcloth mask.

  "You're dead, my Lady." he whispered, as she rose and shook her hair free of the black scarf.

  "Actually you are, miheth, I shot you with my longbow when you 'killed' the poor guardsman down by that needletree."

  "Damn. That's twice you've had me then. I must be getting old."

  "Old indeed if you've lost count at two, mithroth," Elayeen smiled impishly, pulling down his mask and kissing him softly.

  "Shameless wench. What are you doing here?" Gawain grinned, hugging her and pulling her down into the ferns.

  "You are mithroth, and you were missing me, were you not?"

  "You're dead, your Majesties." a familiar voice announced, as Sarek tapped them both on the shoulder.

  "Dwarfspit." Gawain sighed. "I thought I killed you earlier."

  "That was Corporal Jak. I was up the next tree along."

  oOo

  41. Spring

  "What of Arrun, and Mornland?" Gawain asked quietly as Allazar grinned with excitement.

  The wizard's expression fell. "That I do not know. The message is simply that both Callodon and Juria journey to Ferdan, and would meet you there."

  Rak sipped his ale as Gawain paced in the main room. "Traveller, this is news indeed. I shall send word to Eryk immediately."

  "Yet I feel uneasy." Gawain muttered, and Elayeen caught hold of his arm as he passed and pulled him onto the chair beside hers.

  "Two of the southland kings journey to Ferdan, mithroth. Threlland will too, doubtless. And if Meeya and Valin have been successful, so too will my father. This is cause for celebration, is it not?"

  Gawain shrugged, yet looked frustrated. "In truth. But still I am uneasy. Word was sent to Arrun and Mornland, Rak?"

  "It was. And when word reaches them as it surely must that Juria and Callodon have agreed to meet in Ferdan, then I have no doubt they will recognise the significance and make the journey themselves. What ails you? This is as your Lady says, my friend, cause for celebration. Will you not at least drink with us?"

  Gawain sighed, and took the tankard offered him by Allazar. The ale was dark and bitter, and as he drank, a shudder ran the length of his spine.

  "Miheth, what troubles you so?"

  "In truth I do not know. Perhaps it is Elvendere? So much depends on Thal-Hak attending the Council. Yet these past weeks I have felt...frustrated."

  "The throth, perhaps?" Allazar mumbled from his chair in front of the empty hearth, no need of fire now that spring filled the longer evenings with warmth and the promise of summer to come.

  "No." Elayeen affirmed, "The first confusions of throth are brief, and long since passed. It is something else."

  "All is well," Rak opined, "In Threlland at least. Our forces, such as they are, are well prepared, and have trained with determination and enthusiasm. Our watch is posted from Tarn to the Mallak Spur and beyond. Sarek's new Rangers are in place overlooking the Barak-nor, and will send word the moment any enemy activity is sighted. There is little else we can do that has not been done."

  Gawain nodded. "General Karn is an able officer, and his preparations are indeed thorough. Yet I cannot shake off the intuition that I myself have overlooked something."

  "Perhaps, my friend," Allazar said quietly, his eyes downcast, "It is an old grief which stirs within you."

  Gawain looked up, his eyebrows raised, and Elayeen eased closer to him. "An old grief?"

  Allazar sighed. "It is a year, almost to the day, is it not, that Morloch cast his foul Breath upon your land?"

  Gawain nodded slowly. "And so much has happened in the between. Yet this painful anniversary is not the cause of my...frustration. I know not how to describe it. It is as if there was something important I must do, yet I cannot remember what it was nor why it should be important."

  "Well, mithroth," Elayeen sighed, and smiled, "It cannot therefore be that important. What is important now is that we ride for Ferdan, and are there to meet Callodon and Juria when they arrive. It would not do to keep them waiting."

  "In truth." Allazar muttered. "Brock can be a bear in matters of punctuality."

  The following dawn found Gawain outside the stables at the rear of Rak's house, his eyes closed in remembrance. Gwyn snuffled, and he opened his eyes with a grim smile.

  "Come then, Ugly, time we made our way west and south."

  "I trust, mithroth, you were speaking to your horse?"

  Gawain grinned, and mounted, but made no reply. Rak and the Lady Merrin stood wrapped in their cloaks, for the morning was chill.

  "We shall join you in Ferdan as discussed, my brother." Rak smiled. "Until then, speed your journey, all."

  Gawain nodded, and drew his cloak tighter about him, shifting the longsword slung over his shoulder
into a more comfortable position. "And speed your journey too, my friends. I would that you could travel with us."

  Merrin chuckled. "Major Sarek will make an able escort in your absence, Traveller, and with uncle Eryk and his honour-guard along, we shall feel almost as safe on the plains of Juria as when first we crossed it with you."

  "Then take care. And keep good watch." Gawain nodded, and Gwyn eased forward.

  "And you." Rak called.

  Elayeen and Allazar followed close behind Gawain, and once they were in the main street, drew alongside him. Hooves clopped on the cobbles, a familiar sound these days, and the few people who were about at this hour paid little attention to the three travellers making their way out of town.

  "You were restless last night, mithroth." Elayeen said quietly as they left the market square behind them and turned onto the downland track.

  "I'm sorry. Did I disturb your sleep?"

  "No. But yours was disturbed. Have you remembered what it was that so troubled you yesterday?"

  "No. I think it may be the inaction. The endless days and nights helping Sarek train his Rangers, the meetings with Karn, the planning, and the waiting for word to come from kings. I am unused to such prolonged periods of doing little or nothing."

  Allazar cleared his throat diplomatically.

  "What is it, wizard?" Gawain asked, but it was too late.

  "I am sorry, mithroth, if my company has bored you so much of late."

  "I did not mean..." Gawain protested, and Elayeen could not maintain her haughty expression in the face of his sudden anguish, though she hid her smile with a regal sniff.

  Allazar chuckled.

  "Dwarfspit." Gawain mumbled.

  "Longsword, I am reminded of wisdom I once heard from an old woman in Callodon, many years ago." Allazar said, eyeing the Teeth as they hove into view.

  "Which is?"

  "A closed mouth gathers no feet."

  "There," Gawain nodded towards the distant mountain, "There stands one set of Teeth I hope remain firmly closed, for as long as it is possible in the face of Morloch's onslaught."

  "Indeed."

  At the border crossing between Threlland and Mornland, Gawain was surprised to see a proliferation of Mornland guardsmen where before there had been but one or two. They eyed Gawain with a mixture of awe and dread, and yet cast softer glances towards the elfin beauty riding at his side. Allazar, though, they stopped, and demanded he open his robes.

  Gawain smiled grimly at this, and while Allazar promptly obliged, he turned to the guard-commander.

  "Well met, Mornland, honour to your Crown."

  "Well met, Longsword, honour to you and your Lady."

  "This," Gawain nodded at the small knot of guardsmen standing with cocked and bolted crossbows still aimed at Allazar, "This is a welcome precaution."

  "Aye. We have learned much from our Threlland neighbours of late. Is it true that war looms from that bleak northern horizon?"

  "It is." Gawain said softly. "Though we may yet prevail."

  "I pray it is so." Then the commander turned to Allazar. "I thank you, wizard, for your co-operation. Speed your journey."

  Allazar nodded, fastened his robes, and the trio moved off.

  At the river-crossing that was the border between Mornland and Juria, Allazar was obliged to repeat the ritual twice, on each bank of the sparkling ribbon of water that wound its way south all the way to Arrun.

  "My lord!" one of the Jurian guardsmen cried happily, and the rest beamed up at them.

  Gawain smiled down at the officer who so long ago had predicted 'big snow' from the north. "Well met, my friend. How fares Juria?"

  "Well, my lord, Juria fares well. And you, and your Lady?"

  Elayeen smiled sweetly.

  "We fare well, as you see." Gawain turned to Elayeen, and said quietly, "When first I brought you to Threlland, mithroth, we rested yonder, in that hut. It was these friends who gave up their blankets to help keep you warm that night, and helped clear the way to Tarn."

  Elayeen's eyes widened, and sparkled, and she smiled down at the group of officers staring up at her. "Then, friends of my husband, you are friends to me, and you have my thanks."

  Jurian faces beamed with delight on hearing the lilting elfin voice, and the words given for their ears.

  "Some time past, a small party would have passed this way." Gawain said, "Two of my Lady's people, in the company of four Threllandmen?"

  "Aye Serre," The guard-commander acknowledged. "They passed safely onto the plains, west-bound. All were hale, though possessed of a duty, I believe, for they would not tarry for conversation beyond that you and your Lady were well in Tarn."

  "Thank you." Gawain said. "You may expect more Threllandmen soon, I hope."

  "More?" the commander beamed, "We've had more traffic at this crossing these past months than I can remember in years! With all this talk of war, I shouldn't be surprised if Threlland's Crown himself didn't saunter across that river."

  Gawain grinned. "And the weather?"

  "Ah! Set fair, my lord, set fair! Small rains before summer turns the plains brown, for it'll be a hot one."

  "Hot indeed." Gawain said softly, as with a wave of farewell, he turned Gwyn south of west, and they headed out onto the plains of Juria.

  The plains were lush and green, the grasses long and verdant, and Allazar beamed happily.

  "There, Longsword! And there! I've never seen so many or fatter rabbit and hare!"

  "We eat frak, wizard, all the way to Ferdan."

  Allazar groaned. "Frak? All the way?"

  "Aye. No fires at night. They shine like beacons for all brigands and worse to see."

  "Yet it is early evening, and light. A fire would not be seen."

  "The smoke would."

  "Dwarfspit."

  "Frak is good for you, wizard. I like it."

  Elayeen and Allazar exchanged a look that spoke volumes.

  "What?" Gawain protested. "It is good for you."

  Elayeen sniffed haughtily again.

  "Ah." Allazar sighed.

  Later that night, when they made camp, Gawain produced a hunk of frak and happily pared off a slice and offered it to Elayeen. She shook her head as she wrapped her hair in a black scarf, and then reached into her saddle-bags and produced a large parcel.

  Allazar did likewise, and Gawain watched, stunned, as the two of them settled to a meal of chicken and Threlland meatbread. In spite of his mouth watering, he sniffed regally, and set about chewing his frak.

  He was still chewing when Elayeen packed the remains of her meal away, kissed him on the cheek, and announced that she would take first watch.

  "I'll come back into camp from the east," she said softly, wrapping a darkening-cloth around her face so that only her eyes were visible.

  "I'll take the second watch." Allazar sighed contentedly, packing away his leftovers and settling on his blanket.

  "Dwarfspit." Gawain mumbled through a mouthful of the leathery spiced frak. "I'll take the third then.”

  Elayeen picked up her longbow, tested the string, and then stood before Gawain as she put on her black leather gloves. He eyed her shadowy figure in the gloom, and nodded. She bowed, and turned, and disappeared into the night.

  After a pause, Allazar said softly "I envy you, Longsword."

  "Of course. You're a wizard, and I'm not." Gawain whispered quietly.

  Allazar chuckled sadly, and then sighed. "Are you still troubled?"

  "Yes. Though I'm trying to ignore it. It is irritating not knowing what it is I have forgotten, or even if I have."

  "It cannot be of moment, then."

  "I hope not."

  "Well. I shall sleep. And safely. Your Lady adds your nefarious skills to her elven ways, and makes for a formidable watchkeeper."

  "Aye. She does." Gawain said admiringly, scanning the horizon around them and seeing nothing.

  Their journey was filled with a strange mix of feelings. Comradeship, certainly, and
determination for the task ahead, and yet an odd sadness too, as if their destination held the promise of sorrow. In some respects it did, for if Thal-Hak emerged from the trees of Elvendere to join with Juria and Callodon, Elayeen would have to face a father and friends who held her faranthroth, dead, and ever to be treated thus. Gawain felt a rising sense of apprehension, not only from his throth binding to Elayeen, but for himself. He did not know if he possessed the regal command or strength of his father, which would be needed to bond the southland crowns together against their common enemy.

  Even Allazar seemed more and more withdrawn as each day brought them closer to the small and lacklustre Jurian town.

  Gawain brought them within sight of Elvendere's eastern tree line before turning due south towards Ferdan. He hoped elven patrols might spy them from the trees, and that word of their passage might reach Thal-Hak or Gan-thal. But their proximity to the forest made Elayeen's ordinarily bright mood fade, and she too became as withdrawn as the wizard, and Gawain quietly cursed himself for his error in judgement.

  About a week from their destination, Gwyn suddenly pricked up her ears, and lifted her feet, and snorted. Elayeen and Allazar were long familiar with the Raheen charger's uncanny senses and promptly reined in, while Gawain scanned the horizon. Something was approaching.

  "A Jurian patrol?" Allazar hoped.

  "I do not think so." Gawain muttered, staring south at the dark shapes on the horizon.

  "A patrol from Elvendere?" Allazar hoped again.

  "No." Elayeen said sadly. "They would not greet me, nor would they trespass Juria so openly, and so far from the trees."

  "Callodon's men, then."

  "No." Gawain sighed. Then he screwed up his eyes, turned his face to the sky and groaned. "Ah, Dwarfspit and Elve’s Blood!"

  "What is it, mithroth?"

  "I have remembered."

  "What?" Allazar cried, as the distant horses rumbled closer and began resolving into clearer shapes.

  "That whitebeard bastard Joyen. He was Eryk's. He would have known our plans to meet at Ferdan. Behold the enemy, dispatched to prevent our arrival."