Udas shuttered with the memory of his injury. The images and sensations from Izgra’s fortress washed over him.
“I reacted with my training.” returned Udas weakly.
“Training is one thing.” stated Prince Manfir. “A man is cut on the battlefield and he or a compatriot must try to mend the wound. He must deal with the pain. Such is war. But to receive such a horrific injury and own the presence of mind to tend to it properly. That is true .... courage.”
Udas puffed his chest out and bowed toward Manfir.
“We do what we must to survive.” replied the colonel exhaling and closing his eyes.
Udas began to sweat as the horror of the Ulrog attack replayed in his mind. The stone chamber. The blackened maw of Sulgor the Malveel lord. Razor tipped claws. A flash of pain. The lumbering Ulrog armed with cleavers. The torch.
“What horrible weapon caused such a wound?” coaxed Ader abruptly.
“A cleaver.” replied a dazed Udas.
The colonel’s eyes shot wide open. An awkward expression crossed his face.
“A cleaver, you say?” questioned Teeg. “Quite an odd weapon for a Keltar to be carrying, don’t you think? Cleavers are the chosen weapons of the Ulrog. An honorable Keltaran wouldn’t be caught dead with a cleaver.”
“I misspoke.” recovered Udas. “A battle-ax delivered the blow ... I believe.”
“Interesting.” said Teeg. “As I said before. Sometimes in the heat of battle a warrior may forget the bigger picture, but the details become burned in your memory. One would think the weapon that inflicted such a life altering injury would be imprinted in your memory forever.”
“It was a battle-ax!” snapped Udas.
“Wielded by a lumbering Ulrog, attempting to run you down as you fled on horseback?” returned Teeg quickly.
“Yes! I mean no. It was a Keltaran giant!”
“One of fifteen that trapped you and General Ellow hundreds of leagues from their homeland, in enemy territory!?” continued Teeg.
“Yes! The mountain dogs cannot be penned into their own borders! They want all of our land!”
“How did you manage to avoid the river?” demanded Manfir quickly.
Udas became frantic and turned once more to Macin.
“Your majesty! This is preposterous! I’ve proven myself from...”
“Answer him!” snapped Macin.
Udas locked his jaw and spun to face Manfir.
“I rode hard until I found a place to fjord it.”
“That must have been a tremendously difficult task?” added the prince.
“With one arm severely injured, yes it was.” snarled Udas.
“No, no. You misunderstand me, colonel.” smiled Manfir. “It must have been extremely difficult to fjord a river that doesn’t exist. No river runs through the Rimdar pass. It is a dry and desolate place.”
The room became silent and once again Udas’s eyes searched for support. He found none.
“Perhaps it was not as profound a waterway as I determined in my panic.” explained Udas. “It may have been a deep creek or ravine. As our Elven representative said, the larger picture becomes hazy. I remember we could not flee to the south due to some sort of drop-off. I rode hard until I found a flat area.”
“Interesting.” stated Macin eyeing the colonel.
“What symbol did the unit wear?” boomed a voice behind Kael.
Granu stepped past the boy and approached Udas. The colonel shrunk away in fear. Several supply troops near the dais moved forward.
“HOLD!” commanded King Macin, pointing a finger toward the troops.
Granu moved to within inches of the colonel. He glared down on the supply commander. Udas fidgeted and squirmed.
“Each Keltaran clan and their individual units wear a symbol emblazoned on their vestments. For example, I just buried a unit of my brethren who made the mistake of roaming too far from our homeland. The Keltar love their mountains and this unit you speak of acted unusually. Perhaps it was another of my brother Fenrel’s units. What symbol appeared on their vestments?” growled Granu.
Udas shook. His chest heaved and he averted his eyes from the giant’s penetrating gaze. His mind rushed through all that happened to him in the last several months. He found himself in a void. He had betrayed his country. This giant could crush him in an instant. His mind spun frantically searching for a way out.
“WHAT SYMBOL DID YOUR ATTACKERS BEAR?!” the giant roared without warning.
Udas’s mind focused on the attack in that cold stone room so many months ago. That beast hovering over him as this Keltar did now. The foul breath of the Malveel Lord. Those crimson, burning eyes. The claws! The noose! His heart raced! The torch! His mind reeled! A clatter near his feet drew his attention. Precious gems and red gold lay scattered about him on the floor.
“No! Those are mine! I earned them!” squealed Udas.
“Of course you did.” rumbled the giant coldly and he turned and moved back to his companions.
Udas blinked and regained his composure. He looked up from the fortune into the blue green eyes of a beautiful young woman. She held an empty saddlebag in her hand.
“This sack and its contents were recovered from the quarters of Udas.” announced the young woman. “The origin of the gems is difficult to pinpoint, but the red gold is most assuredly from the Ulrog mines of the Northern Scythtar.”
“ It seems your failings have no end, colonel. You allowed another uninvited guest into my chambers?” frowned Macin. “Albeit a lovely one.”
The young woman bowed to the Zodrian king and Macin returned the gesture.
“ I would like to be introduced to such a talented young lady, however I must first deal with the matter at hand. What to do with you, Udas?” continued Macin as he glared at supply commander. “Apparently, my supply staff has become a breeding ground for treason and sedition.”
The colonel glowered at the old king and spat on the floor.
“You all stand here scheming while Chaos gathers an insurmountable force against you! You fools think you can defend yourself against Izgra and his minions?!” scoffed Udas. “I’ve seen Amird’s chosen! He builds armies while you scrape for militia! He breeds death while you pray for salvation. The only way to survive Chaos is to join it you simpletons!”
General Wynard slid up behind the ranting colonel and quickly disarmed him. Udas’s troops looked about in confusion. Macin slid a short sword from beneath his throne and held it at the ready before those by the dais were able to react to the situation. Others from the General Staff drew their swords and closed on Udas’s troops.
“Some of you may be in league with this madman and some of you may have followed him out of loyalty or greed.” stated King Macin. “Your reasons will be determined and a punishment will be determined. For now, go quietly and the worst you will see is the front lines of a battle that will eventually envelop us all. I give you a chance to redeem yourselves.”
A heavy shouldered supply soldier near the platform glanced about the room. His knuckles were white from the tight grip he maintained on the hilt of his sheathed weapon. He finished his assessment and nodded to his compatriots. He slowly drew his sword from its scabbard and laid it at the feet of Macin.
“Mercy is the gift of the mighty.” mumbled the man with his head lowered.
Sergeant Deling burst into the room with a small contingent of Guardsmen. The Fox stood by his side heaving.
“Deling, where the devil have you been?” demanded Ader.
“Your pardons, Lord Ader. I was momentarily detained. After your departure, Udas’s guards found it difficult to relinquish their post.” stated Deling. “I was forced to instruct them that their departure was in their own best interests.”
“Sergeant Deling.” said King Macin.
“Yes, your highness.”
“Please take Colonel Udas and these others into custody. Be sure to treat them with respect. They have my word on this.”
“Of
course, my lord.” returned Deling.
The old sergeant’s troop quickly rounded up Udas and his men and marched them from the hall. Macin watched them leave then shook his head and smiled at Ader.
“I will say this, old man. You certainly make life interesting.” laughed Macin. “Complicated, but no doubt interesting.”
Ader bowed to the king.
“It is time for you to look in the mirror Macin of Zodra. I am not the only old man in the room.” replied Ader.
“Tis true. I’m but one out of one hundred of your years yet we share the same look. The struggle has burdened me.” smiled Macin.
Manfir stepped toward the platform.
“It’s time for you to share the burden, father.” stated Manfir. “I’m here to do what I can.”
“I’ve held on this long, I will hold...” began Macin’s protest.
“Father.” interrupted Manfir. “This is too important for your pride to interfere. The enemy changes tactics. We face challenges from without and within. The costs become too great.”
“I’ve guided us in war before. I will continue...”
“Father.” said Manfir softly. “Your grandson is dead.”
Macin froze. He looked lost. His eyes locked onto those of Brelg and the drill sergeant slowly nodded his head. Macin became unsteady and dropped into his chair. He stared down at the marble floor.
“How?” whispered the king.
“He encountered two Malveel in the Nagur Wood.” stated Manfir calmly. “He was alone and unprotected.”
“He ...never knew me.” mumbled Macin, his face falling into his hands. “I hoped one day....”
The king’s voice trailed off. Manfir set his jaw and climbed the dais to kneel before his father.
“The enemy attacks us on the front lines and in our own cities. They subvert and corrupt our supply lines. Rumors spread amongst our people to dishearten them. Our most closely held secrets betrayed. You can’t do it all, father. Call on me. I’m ready to share your burden.”
Macin’s head rose and he looked into his son’s eyes.
“We were betrayed?” asked King Macin.
“We’ve thought on it.” returned Manfir. “It’s the only conclusion. Somehow they discovered where Brelg raised Aemmon’s brother. Otherwise, it makes no sense that they came so close.”
Macin sat upright. He looked past Manfir to the group standing by the door. Kael squirmed as the old king’s eyes bore in on him.
“Boy.” called the king softly. “Come here, boy.”
Kael glanced at his father and the old soldier nodded. The boy carefully walked to the front of the hall and climbed the dais. Manfir stood and edged to the side as the king rose. Macin’s hard eyes bore into Kael and the boy could see a tear hovering there.
Macin took hold of Kael’s hand. He pulled the boy close and embraced him.
“We share deep sorrow, my boy.” whispered Macin for only Kael to hear. “We are bound by common love. She wrote to her mother with great joy and pride concerning both of her sons. I pray that one day you can feel comfortable enough to call me grandfather.”
Macin released Kael and turned to the court.
“The day grows strange.” announced King Macin. “Only moments ago I sat on this throne bemoaning the state of my kingdom. Now I find hope and sorrow. My son pledges his allegiance. My children’s children do me honor by their visit, and my hall is filled with representatives from both my allies and my enemies. Tis an interesting day indeed.”
The king paused and Kael watched as Macin fought so many conflicting emotions. Finally, the king’s face went rigid and he turned to the giant.
“Granu, prince of Keltar, I shall hear your story. I assume that its contents will continue what has become a very interesting evening. Do you plan to present me with good news? A cease of hostilities perhaps, while we are ground up by the Ulrog horde?”
Granu arched an eyebrow and approached the throne.
“You will receive no such assurances from me, Macin of Zodra.” rumbled the giant. “The return of your son and the meeting of your grandson may etch a silver lining to the storm clouds that gather over you, but I am here to report how truly dangerous those clouds are.”
Macin frowned.
“I thought as much. No good can come from a son of Hrafnu standing in the halls of Zodra.”
“Some good is possible from our meeting.” continued Granu. “For it is much better to be informed of your dangers than to stand naked before them. You spent centuries holding back the Ulrog flood along the northern marches. In this one thing the Keltar, the Zodrian and the Eru have been united. Although we battled amongst ourselves over the years, one truth remains. The Ulrog are the spawn of Chaos and all they breed are death and destruction.
The time for our commonality has passed. The house of Grannak has been betrayed and those that rule the Keltar are slowly shifting my kingdom down another path. Greed and power corrupt the kingdom and you can no longer count on your enemies in the western mountains to protect that border for you.
It is an absurdity of our long struggle that we also counted on each other for an unspoken, mutual support against the Ulrog. This support will be suddenly and completely withdrawn, leaving your western flank exposed and a pathway to this palace wide open.”
The generals in the room scoffed and exchanged worried looks. King Macin stroked his chin and stared at the giant.
“I’m puzzled why the heir to the throne of your kingdom cares to inform me of its treachery against mankind, but I must therefore conclude you are no longer the heir to the throne. If such a disclosure is truth, you are no longer welcome in Keltar. The company you keep speaks volumes to that conclusion.” stated Macin.
“You deduce correctly.” replied Granu. “I am an outcast.”
“Is your exile a ruse by your father to throw us off guard? To split our attention between the West and the North so we are more vulnerable in both locations? Have you succeeded in even fooling the great Ader?” mused Macin.
“To what end? We see the buildup of the Ulrog horde as well as you. We need only sit back and wait to watch our hated cousins annihilated. Why attempt subterfuge against you now? If we attack and win, we only weaken ourselves and extend our forces outside our beloved mountains. The Ulrog would find you gone and Keltar ripe for destruction.” answered Granu.
“If you are exiled, how came you by this information? What plan were you privy to that speaks of an attack from the West and not the North?” asked Macin.
“I was privy to nothing.” replied Granu. “And blinded by love and loyalty for so long that I did not see the demise of my own standing in Keltar as it charged at me like a mountain ram and bowled me over.”
“Then how do you come by these assertions?” questioned Macin.
“I’ve had nigh on five years to mull over my brother’s motives and plans. It took most of that time to come to terms with how much he betrayed me. I wandered the edges of my kingdom spying on troop movements and the happenings within Keltar. I contacted those of my brotherhood who were not sequestered or jailed. Many have gone missing, but a few bowed down to Fenrel and were assimilated into his corps. They appraise me of his activities and those of the world in general. I base my conclusions on a knowledge of my people, the Ulrog and most importantly my brother.” stated Granu.
“And you wish me to take an entirely different perspective on the war, based on your recommendation?” asked Macin. “I am to ignore the advice of my General Staff and all the learned military men of this kingdom and accept the musings of a titled prince of my enemy?”
“I ask you to listen carefully to what your generals already told you.” stated Granu.
The giant turned and faced the room.
“General Wynard is it?” asked the giant of the Zodrian.
Wynard nodded his head.
“You witness this buildup of Ulrog along the Northern Mountains?”
Once again the general nodded his head.
“They are the usual Ulrog tactics.” replied Wynard. “Packs of Ulrog spill from their mountain holes and raid northern units. Supply trains are set upon when they get the chance, and even more rarely the occasional town or hamlet is raided.”
“These are the tactics the Ulrog have always used are they not?” questioned Granu.
“Yes.” answered Wynard furrowing his brow. “What are you driving at?”
“How then are you aware of a buildup?”
“The packs are larger, and the frequency of the attacks increases.” stated Wynard. “We see new insignia upon many of their units. Insignia we’ve not seen before. They are units new to the area.”
“You suffer many losses?”
“Casualties are up in the corps, that is true. Everybody is aware of this.”
“You are being worn down but still holding on?”
“Yes.”
“In fact, you have been able to gain territory.” stated Granu.
General Wynard blinked and looked about the room, his eyes finally rested on Macin.
“Why, yes. We have.”
“What?!” shouted the king. “Why haven’t I been informed of this?!”
Wynard bowed toward Macin.
“My apologies, your highness. We didn’t intend to misinform you or keep you in the dark. At first we thought the advances only temporary. These were small moral victories for the troops. We expected the Ulrog to push back against our advances and drive us South. Several of the commanders agreed that it would be a blow to the morale of the citizenry to report these gains only to revoke them within days.”
“I am not the citizenry!” replied Macin. “We shall discuss this oversight later. Go on, Keltaran.”
“So, if I am to assess the situation properly, you are telling us that a force that has grown significantly over the last year, pouring greater numbers out of the Scythtar, has continued its tactics of simple harassment and actually lost ground to your thinning and overtaxed Guard?” said Granu.
Once again Wynard scanned the group.
The Pool And The Pedestal (Book 2) Page 5