The Longsword Chronicles: Book 01 - King of Ashes

by GJ Kelly

  "Easy for you to say, safe in Callodon." Allazar asserted. "You would not feel so secure were your quarters closer to the farak gorin."

  "Nor were they brigands, or bandits, as you so casually dismiss them." Juria announced. "That they were Morloch's monsters is beyond question."

  "The remnants of Ramoth, surely?" Nahthen smiled, "Small pockets of such brigands yet exist in all our lands, but our local militia is well able to deal with such matters."

  "There is an army of six hundred of these creatures in Threlland." Eryk announced. "And Ramoth mercenaries they are not."

  In the face of Eryk's stony gaze, Nahthen gave way, and sat down.

  "Yet," Zarren announced, rising to his feet. "We are told that a similar number camps upon the wasteland of Goria, to the north of our lands. Who has seen this army?"

  "The Morlochmen encamped in the Barak-nor of Threlland are under constant surveillance." Allazar said. "Yet the forces that battled with Raheen and Elvendere on the plains of Juria, at such great cost to Elvendere, came not from the east. Clearly, then, they came from elsewhere."

  "I concede the logic." Zarren sneered. "Yet where is the proof that they came from the northwest wastelands?"

  "Where else did they come from, Zarren?" Allazar asked archly. "From Elvendere?"

  A gasp went up, and Zarren blanched with rage.

  "Or from Callodon? Or perhaps you suggest that Juria harbours the enemy on her plains? Or perhaps you are implying that Mornland hides them in her orange groves and vineyards?"

  Zarren sat.

  "I thought so." Allazar sighed. "There is only one place that enemy could have originated. Unless there is one here who would suggest the western and eastern kingdoms grant free passage to these enemy forces through their borders."

  "There is the question to be considered of this mythical army beyond the Teeth," Tozenn declared, rising to his feet. "It is upon this that the question of mutual defence depends. That an enemy has penetrated Jurian borders is evident. That, surely, is a matter for Juria. That an enemy is camped in the northeast of Threlland is also evident, yet surely this is a matter for Threlland, first and foremost. Only if the assertion that a vast uncounted army is poised to burst forth from the mountains onto Juria's plains is indeed correct, is this is a matter for all Crowns."

  No sooner had Tozenn sat, than Zarren was on his feet. "And who has seen this mythical army?"

  "I have." Gawain said, staring hard at the wizard.

  "With respect, Raheen, this vision of yours occurred where?"

  "Beneath the Teeth."

  "Ah. When you destroyed the Lens of Ramoth."

  "Yes."

  "Ah. When you were, exposed, to aquamire?"

  "Yes."

  "Ah.” Zarren smiled triumphantly, and turned to face all those in the low seats, and kept turning as he spoke. "In the midst of vile black wizardry, you had a vision. Perhaps it is unsurprising, considering the forces which were unleashed. It is a miracle you survived, and one for which we doubtless all give thanks. Yet, the visions inspired by dark wizardry can hardly be relied upon as fact. We have all dreamed at some time of Morloch, yet few of us would claim such visions as truth. Forgive me, Raheen, but I cannot accept your vision as anything less than hallucination."

  "Nor I," Nahthen called, and added almost as an afterthought "with respect to the Crown."

  "Yet," Allazar announced, "You do not refute that Raheen destroyed the Lens of Ramoth."

  "I do not." Zarren agreed, frowning. "The liberation of aquamire was seen as far as Callodon."

  "Then, you must also concede that Morloch was able to create a passage through the Teeth, by means of which he transported aquamire to the Lens. And by means of which the Ramoth, and the black riders, flooded into our lands from the north."

  Zarren's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I so concede..."

  "Then, conceding the one breach in the Teeth, which you once held so impenetrable, is it thus inconceivable to imagine another? Or yet more?"

  "I believe it is unlikely." Zarren said through his teeth. "And I do not accept the folly I have heard that men attack the slopes of the mountains with tiny hammers, endlessly chipping away in the hope of wearing such vast rocks down to rubble."

  "Yet you have already conceded that the Ramoth came through the Teeth, as has been described many times in many tales, across the vast chasm well-known in Threlland to exist beneath those mountains."

  Zarren sat, glowering.

  "The question before Council is a simple one," Mahlek announced, and while he reiterated his opening statements about mutual defence, Gawain signalled Allazar forward again.

  "Longsword?"

  "It is as though they are waiting for something, Allazar. This blathering is a nonsense." Gawain whispered.

  "Such blathering is commonplace in council chambers, Longsword." Allazar whispered back.

  "Yet they achieve nothing but delay."

  "And a degree of public recognition."

  "No. There is more to this. There is a tension."

  "Then you must wrest the initiative, Longsword. The Crowns are waiting for you to speak, and have little interest in wizards and their specious arguments."

  "Then I shall." Gawain sighed, and Allazar stepped back.

  "...yet it is no small matter for foreign armies, even those of friendly neighbours, to take station on another's sovereign territory..." Mahlek rambled.

  Gawain glanced at Elayeen, saw the concern in her eyes, and smiled weakly. Then he stood. At once, Mahlek fell silent, and stepped back out of the circle announcing "I give way to Raheen."

  Gawain stepped down off the dais, and into the circle, clutching the longsword in its scabbard loosely in his left hand as he turned slowly, eyeing Crowns and nobles alike. He drew in a deep breath, noting the various expressions on faces regarding him keenly. Interest, concern, contempt, and in some eyes, scorn and derision.

  "The time is upon us," Gawain announced, his voice rich, and regal, "And we must unite, or fall to Morloch's horde. I have been told, and recently, I cannot be responsible for all your destinies. In truth, I cannot, nor would I wish it upon myself, or any other, to bear such a burden. Yet I have seen across the Teeth, and I know what awaits."

  Gawain eyed the D'ith Sek wizard standing behind Thal-Hak, and then turned his head slightly, and eyed Zarren. "I care not whether you believe me. I care not what wizards think or believe. I care only for those I love, and call friend. I have no people looking to my Crown for protection. Morloch has destroyed them all, just as he wishes to destroy all of you. I vex him, and shall continue to do so, with or without your aid.

  "Yet, the time is upon us. No one kingdom may stand against the forces already south of the Teeth. No one kingdom may prevail against the forces even now pressing against the mountains, ready to lay waste to all you hold dear..."

  "With respect, we have heard this..." Zarren began, but fell instantly silent as Gawain's eyes flickered black.

  "And you will hear it again, wizard, this one last time, and in the presence of those you claim to serve so well. I know you. I know you all."

  Zarren blanched, and flicked a glance at his superior standing behind Elvendere's throne.

  "Once," Gawain continued, still turning slowly in the centre of the circle, "when first I ventured into the lowlands from my home, I found myself at an inn, in a small village, in Callodon. It was evening, and I entered, hoping to acquire a room for the night. The room purchased, and a meal with it, I sat, and watched an entertainment. Upon a small raised platform I saw a chair, and upon that chair, a humble farmer sat.

  "From behind the chair appeared an entertainer, clad in garish robes, sprinkled with stars and spangles and moons. This entertainer stooped low, and for some time, whispered into the farmer's ear. At length, as the stillness of expectation fell upon the audience, the farmer suddenly leapt from his chair, and began flapping his arms, and walking, high-kneed, for all the world like a chicken."

  "A harmless entertainment
." The wizard behind Thal-Hak announced. "I am Pahak, of the First Order, and I declare there was no magic in what you saw."

  "Indeed." Gawain acknowledged darkly. "But as I watched, I wondered. I stand here now, and before me I see a small raised platform. On that platform I see chairs, and in those chairs I see not humble farmers, but royal Crowns. And behind them, I see men in robes, stooping, and whispering in their ears..."

  "By the Teeth, Longsword!" Allazar gasped.

  "And I wonder still." Gawain continued. "Pahak of the D'ith Sek declares that no magic is needed to turn a farmer into a chicken. So I wonder, seeing wizards, would I be surprised at all, if a royal Crown suddenly stood, and flapped his arms, and flew? And so I wonder, after all these years, what it is you and your kind have been whispering into the ears of kings."

  "Raheen..." Brock began, his face clouded and eyes dark.

  "Callodon." Gawain replied. "Friend of Raheen these many years, urged by wizards to do nothing when the Ramoth came. Urged by wizards to do nothing when my home was destroyed. All of you, urged to do nothing. And all the while, wizards whispered in your ears, and the Ramoth travelled your lands, calling 'make way'. And I wondered...."

  "This is outrage!" The wizard behind Brock exclaimed. "I am Darrath of the D'ith Sek, First of Callodon, and will not be insulted thus!"

  "Nor I!" came cries of protest from the lower seats.

  Gawain lowered his head, and then looked up, his eyes blazing aquamire as he shifted the longsword, holding the grip in his right hand and the scabbard in his left. A hush fell as he whirled around and eyed the lower seats.

  "Yet, now I wonder no more." Gawain glowered. "For I have seen across the Teeth, to the land whence all wizards came. Brothers of Morloch, all of you. Small wonder you dread with such passion alliance between Threlland and Elvendere. Small wonder you urge Crowns to do nothing. Brothers of Morloch, were you not sent out centuries ago, when first your kind realised the devastation wrought by you on your own lands was irreversible? Are you not here to prepare the way for his coming?"

  Elayeen gasped, and the shock on her face was mirrored by all those occupying lofty seats. Fresh cries of outrage rang through the chamber, and all around, wizards were on their feet. Allazar strode forward between Gawain's vacant throne and Elayeen's, agog, as Gawain's eyes shone a rich black and the longsword's scabbard fell empty to the floor...

  It was not Pahak of Elvendere that drew Gawain's attention, but the D'ith Sek wizard Darrath standing to the rear of Brock's throne. The wizard's face was contorted with rage and concentration, and his right hand was already raised, pointing at Gawain, while thin lips chanted silently. Almost at once, a shaft of searing yellow light blasted from the wizard's finger, across the circle, only to slam into Gawain's raised blade.

  Gawain stood as if in warrior's salute, the crackling aquamire blade raised vertically before his face. The beam danced and crackled on the steel, turning darker as energy flowed back from the sword towards the wizard. More crackling bursts of energy flickered around the chamber, wizards striking at each other, and Gawain saw Allazar step in front of Elayeen, hands raised and chanting, as a bolt of blue-white lightning snaked towards her...

  Arrows and bolts sang through the air too, honour-guards under Jerryn and Sarek's command loosing their shafts...

  Gawain stood fast, noting Allazar on his knees, hands held before him, chanting furiously, holding the blue-white lightning at bay, protecting Elayeen...

  The air was suddenly charged, and the shaft of light connecting the longsword to the Callodonian D'ith Sek was all black, and humming, driving the wizard back into the wall at the rear of the chamber, two crossbow bolts protruding from his chest. Yet still the wizard stood, still his arms were raised, and still he chanted furiously as a thalangard arrow blossomed from his stomach...

  Light seared Gawain's eyes as wizards chanted and fired blasts at each other. Pahak had stepped in front of Thal-Hak, protecting the Crown and chanting blasts towards someone in the lower seats. A wizard behind the Mornland Ambassador raised his arms towards Gawain, and then suddenly fell as a blast of white lightning ripped through his chest and flung him back into the wall.

  Jerryn and Sarek pressed forward, standing side-by-side, shielding Elayeen as kings dived for cover and reached for swords while crackling energy danced around the chamber and the dying screamed and wizards chanted...

  Darkness, shimmering like a cloud, began to form in the circle, between Gawain and the wizard Darrath. Gawain vaguely heard the cries of men, the screams of those struck down by shafts and magic, and then the shimmering before him resolved, slowly, into the shape of a familiar landscape...

  "Master...help me!" the Callodonian wizard gasped, as strange aquamire from Gawain's blade continued to pin him to the wall.

  In the shimmering cloud, the northern slopes of the Teeth were clearly visible, thousands of Morlochmen hammering at the rock...then the vision was hurtling across the barren, blackened landscape, over the vast charred pit where once a lake of aquamire fermented, through a terrifying and devastated wilderness, towards a castle tower perched high upon blackened rocks. Then the shimmering stabilised.

  "Foolish..." Morloch announced, the dark voice resonating through the chamber, as another shaft sang, and thudded into flesh, and the lightning which threatened Allazar and Elayeen died with the wizard commanding it.

  "To let him vex you so to premature action." Morloch sighed, and turned to face Gawain. "Still you live. Still you vex me."

  "They see you, Morloch. They have seen all."

  "Irrelevant. Futile. I come. You cannot stop me."

  "I can delay you." Gawain smiled cruelly, his black eyes shining fiercely "Perhaps long enough."

  "Gawain!" Elayeen cried, her voice piercing the aquamire crackling, filled with fear and dread for her husband.

  Morloch tilted his head, and his eyes widened. "Gawain? Raheen? Impossible..."

  "I am Gawain, son of Davyd!" Gawain cried, raising the sword aloft, recalling another circle, far away, atop a dead plateau, a circle bounded about by strange writings, a circle facing shattered thrones and buried in the ashes of the dead. "Raheen!"

  Gawain flipped the blade in a lazy arc as Morloch extended his hands, and then he plunged the longsword deep into the floor, through the planking at the centre of the circle, and down into the soft rich earth of Juria beneath.

  The beam of black light linking the Sword of Justice to the dying wizard suddenly surged, blasting through the wizard's body and back again, to reflect off the weapon's hilt still clutched by Gawain, now on his knees, staring at Morloch.

  "Gawain!" Elayeen cried again, Jerryn and Sarek clinging to her, holding her back, while Allazar continued to chant, raising a protective glow around the centre of the circle.

  There was a sudden stillness as Gawain closed his eyes, and then he opened them, and the trapped energy of strange aquamire held within the blade and himself blasted from the hilt of the longsword and ripped into the shimmering cloud, smashing into Morloch, blasting him back into the wall of his stone tower far beyond the Teeth.

  Gawain sighed as the shimmering image rippled, watching as Morloch, like himself, now on his knees, stared back at him in shock, and pain, and fear...

  "Impossible..." Morloch gasped, a black liquid oozing from his mouth. "...It cannot be! You cannot be Raheen!"

  The image faded, and was gone, and all was silent, the air filled with the smell of oceans.

  For a few long moments, Gawain held the longsword's hilt, his eyes closed, listening to sounds of alarm from without as anxious honour-guards hammered on the chamber's doors to gain entry.

  "Gawain..." Elayeen sobbed.

  He opened his eyes, and gazed up at her, his eyes steel-gray and clouded with pain from the burning in his hands, and reflecting almost silver in the light shining from the polished steel blade he held buried in the floor.

  "I live." he breathed, and both Jerryn and Sarek released their grip.

 
Elayeen took a faltering pace forward, her hand reaching towards him, as Crowns stood, weapons in hand, surveying the carnage wrought within the chamber. Honour-guards of all races stood side-by-side with weapons cocked, eyes swinging this way and that.

  Allazar stood in front of Elayeen, blocking her progress.

  "Wait, my Lady." the wizard said softly, breathing hard. "There may yet be Morlochmen here. Guards, shoot down the first wizard who raises an arm!"

  Gawain stood, and turned to face the low seats. In truth, there were few enough targets for the honour-guards to consider. Most were blackened and burned corpses. Then he turned to face the Crowns once more.

  "You have seen." He announced softly as the doors to the chamber burst open and guards rushed in. "You have seen what is to become of your lands, lest you stand together as one. I can do no more."

  Gawain reached down, and wincing as his burned hands clutched the still-warm hilt of the longsword, he heaved it from the ground, sheathed it, and slung it loosely over his shoulder. Then, as Elayeen slipped beneath his arm, he turned his gaze to Allazar.

  "Come, friend Allazar. These crowns have much to discuss, and I doubt they will welcome your presence any more than I once did."

  "Wait!" Thal-Hak cried, "Where are you going? Raheen, where are you going?"

  Gawain paused, and turned slowly, Elayeen helping him stand tall and gazing at her father.

  "Longsword, do not leave us thus!" Brock gasped, stepping forward, to a chorus of agreement from all on the raised platform.

  "You must look to each other, and not to me." Gawain sighed. "You have sat together, and now you stand together. If you do not learn to walk together, and run, and fight together, and soon, all is lost. My friend Rak of Tarn there will gladly show you how."