The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering

by Ben Hale

  “I want the walls on the road built with porous material towards the front, and then backed by stronger stone. No matter how hard they hit it won’t crumble. Instead their weapons will sink into the wall like it was . . . cheese. Eventually they will cut their way through, but this will slow them down. From the description of the enemy, they will be strong. Anything brittle will be crushed, so we have to think smarter.”

  Onix snorted again and prompted, “And?”

  “If your stone mages are good, I want them to do two things. One is to create a series of tunnels running from the back of Azertorn to various locations outside the city. They will be a means of sending men back and forth, as well as striking behind their lines if they surround the city, or as means of escape if we are defeated. Also, along the cliff face I want your stone magi to burrow down and create sections of the cliff that can explode outward.

  “Last, there is a section of the cliff in The Deep that dips to eight hundred feet.” He pointed to the corresponding place on the model. “We need a wall filling it up to match the height of the plateau, and painted so it looks like the rest of the cliff. Then construct a system at the top of the slope that will allow us to dump tar or pitch into the depression. Our first defense will be the illusion that it is not a weakness. If it is discovered and breached, we will pour pitch and burn it. Hopefully it will be a sufficient deterrent."

  Onix was shaking his head so Braon stopped. “I have to admit I doubted the Oracle, boy, but you are everything she said and more. Who would have thought a fifteen-year-old human would be my commanding officer.”

  Braon allowed a small smile. “I was hoping you’d say that, Onix, because I also need you to be one of my generals.”

  Onix grunted and eyed him. “Where?”

  Pointing to the model just west of the city, he said, “You will be the general over the West Falls battalion. It will be your responsibility to organize and train any people that I send your way, as well as communicate with me what you need. Most of your command will be your own people, but some humans are there already. This is to give Newhawk and me versatility as we lead the defenses through you.” His voice became formal as he asked, “Do you accept your new rank, General?”

  Onix straightened and exclaimed, “Yes, Commander.”

  Braon smiled and said, “Congratulations. Let me get your Link.”

  The dwarf raised an eyebrow at him but Braon didn’t explain. Instead he opened the door and called for Thacker. When the man stepped into view, he said, “Summon Brynn.”

  He nodded in response and left the office. Braon returned to his desk, picked up a piece of parchment, and scribbled a note on it. Just as he put it down Thacker’s fiery brunette daughter burst into the room.

  “You called . . .?” she began, but trailed off as she caught sight of the confused dwarf.

  Braon smiled and again felt drawn to the young woman. “Brynn, this is Onix, general of the West Falls battalion. You are to be his Link.” Turning to the dwarf, whose mouth hung open, Braon explained. “They are a telepathic family. I am placing one member with each general and myself so we can communicate efficiently.”

  “But she’s just a child!” Onix protested.

  Brynn’s face clouded, but she held true to her training and allowed Braon to answer. “We both know that communication is critical in battle. Her mind is linked to her fathers, so you can speak to her and the message will be transmitted to me almost instantly. With our twenty-mile defenses, this is not only important, it’s essential. From here on she is to remain by your side at every waking moment, and close by at night. There are two veteran elves tasked with her protection, but you will assign at least four of your own men, and you will guard her with your life.” His voice was harder than he’d intended, but Onix got the message and he bowed, a twinkle in his eye that almost caused Braon to flush.

  “I will not allow harm to befall her, Commander,” Onix said.

  “Speak to me through her whenever you need me, and be prepared for me to pass you messages as well. When the battle nears, we will begin training with you and the other generals so all of us may work together as a cohesive unit.”

  “Are there any other generals?” Onix asked.

  “Deiran will command the Azertorn defenses, but we still need five.”

  The dwarf nodded. “I have my orders, and I will begin at once.”

  “Give me an update through your Link at least once a day,” Braon said as his new general turned to depart, and Onix gave a curt nod before strolling from the room. Brynn cast Braon a worried look, but he smiled reassuringly and she followed him out the door.

  As soon as they were gone, Thacker stepped into the room. “Brynn says she is grateful you placed her with the dwarves.”

  Braon nodded and released a slow breath. He’d found one of his six generals, but it felt like such a tiny step. There was so much to do and so little time, and he needed his other leaders a week ago. Already each of the six battalions contained at least twenty thousand men, with two boasting over fifty thousand. Women and older children were working long days to make arrows and prepare food and clothing.

  Sighing at the complexity of his task, he said, “Go get some lunch, Thacker. I know you were waiting for me, but go get something for yourself.”

  The man hesitated before shaking his head. “I am attached to you, every moment, of every day, as you trained me. I will wait outside until you are ready.” He then slipped out the door before Braon could argue with him.

  A smile spread across the young man’s features. It’s good to know some things are working, he thought. For the past two weeks Braon had worked intensively with Thacker and his children, drilling their role into them. Some of the more responsible youths had taken to it well, and even seemed excited. The twins and Daq still needed work though, and he hoped he had enough time to train them before he found more generals. Each of them needed to be prepared before he assigned them. More than the others, he prayed that Brynn would be watched over.

  Glancing at his makeshift model he felt a wave of gratitude. The dwarven artisans would do a tremendous job with their stone working skills, and he had no doubt that each of those defenses would be finished on time. “Never doubt a dwarven smith,” his father used to say, and the thought made him sad. He still did not know if his family had been killed when Terros had been destroyed, but he held no illusions.

  Grief would come later . . . when they had time—and if they survived.

  Chapter 15: Prince

  Braon snapped awake to pounding on his door and rubbed his eyes. Hurriedly he slid from his bed and pulled on some pants. A glance at the window showed it to be before dawn. For a moment his heart seized, have they come early? With a grunt he shook the irrational thought from his mind and yanked a shirt on.

  He opened the door to reveal Rokei, who said, “Prince Graden of the southern kingdom has just arrived. Newhawk is with him and wishes to speak with you.”

  “Give me a moment, and rouse Thacker.” Closing the door he tied on shoes and finished getting ready, selecting a dark blue tunic and trading for black pants. He needed to look his rank, but not overly so. A quick check in the mirror and he frowned, his hair stuck up in odd places. Using some water from a pitcher, he wet his hair until it stayed in place. Then he grabbed a piece of sweet fruit and crammed a few bites into his mouth to take away any bad breath.

  Ready to greet the prince, he opened the door again and moved down the hall to Thacker’s room, adjacent to his. As soon as Thacker joined him, they followed Rokei as he led him out of the house of Runya and into the cool morning streets. Braon followed the soft-footed elf and took the time to compose his thoughts, which were still scrambled from the abrupt awakening.

  He’d heard about the southern kingdom’s royal family from the arriving humans. King Drayson, renowned as a kind and intelligent ruler, had lost his wife to a fever a year after their second son had been born. Prince Anders, the eldest, had been described by numerous s
outherners to be an exceptional warrior, strong and fast. Prince Graden had been depicted as shorter, but resembling his brother in good looks. Smart and quick witted, he was not quite as good with a weapon, but was far superior with his mind—and he played Stratos.

  Strolling through the First Great Hall that comprised the first tier of Azertorn, Braon moved past the training rings and other practice gear. Even this early in the day he saw countless sparring matches and training instructions all around him, and as per his instructions, many human soldiers were participating.

  Reaching the First Pillar, a massive column fifty feet across and a hundred feet tall that housed the captain of the first Legion, Rokei slowed and led Braon into the first level. Weapons lined the walls and numerous guards were stationed around the circular space. On one side, a curving staircase led upward. Across from Braon a large, heavy portcullis had been raised and humans from the south were streaming through the opening, splitting off to the left and right as the guards directed their path.

  Braon smiled. Newhawk had performed exactly as they had discussed. As the people were evacuated from the southern and eastern kingdoms, they were guided through the forest of Numenessee, which spread south from the city. Arriving at Azertorn, the guards outside separated men into groups of a hundred, and assigned them to one of the six battalions on the cliff. Then they were led through the city to the top of the Giant’s Shelf, and taken to their command to be presented to their temporary commanding officer. Their families went with them.

  Within hours, the sister elves under the direction of the queen and Liri’s mother, Lariel, took a count of men, women, and children as well as an inventory of their goods. Small babes and a few caretakers for them were then selected and led to the caverns behind Azertorn where they would remain during the battle. Although many left the caverns and joined their families during the day, they were required to return at night. Braon wanted every person to know the route to their post intimately.

  Nodding in satisfaction at the smooth order before him, he turned and followed Rokei up several flights of stairs to one of the highest rooms in the First Pillar. Coming around the last corner, he saw Seath, Thacker's oldest son, standing outside a door with his bodyguard. Nodding at Newhawk’s Link, Braon indicated for Thacker to remain outside with his son. Opening the door, he stepped through the portal to be greeted by Newhawk.

  “Commander, thank you for coming,” Newhawk said, and introduced him to the other person in the room. “Commander Braon, this is Prince Graden of the southern realm of humans.” Neither of them spoke after the druid finished and Braon waited for the prince, who appeared confused, to speak first.

  “But you’re just a boy,” the prince said, and Braon was glad he heard surprise rather than derision.

  Braon flashed a wry smile and said, “Fifteen actually, but called to the role by the Oracle and placed in service by the queen of the elves.”

  Prince Graden shook his head as he tried to understand. “So you,” he pointed at the young man, “are going to lead us to victory?”

  “Unfortunately victory is not possible,” Braon answered, his voice calm and composed. “But delaying our defeat until Draeken is destroyed is what we hope to achieve. If he is slain, his army will be withdrawn back to their realm.”

  The prince furrowed his brow. “That is what I have heard, whispered by strong men and women alike. I also saw my father touch the orb sent by the Oracle, but I have to admit I have my doubts.”

  Newhawk coughed, “The Oracle has stated as much, and I heard it from her own lips. I also saw it when she gave me a glimpse of her vision. If I had not believed it then, I would have after reading the ancient records of the elves. They describe in disturbing detail the first time Draeken attempted to slaughter us.”

  “Wait,” Prince Graden said, raising a hand in astonishment. “The ancient holocaust that divided the human kingdoms, it’s happening again?”

  “From what we have gleaned from the records," Braon said, doing his best not to fidget. "Draeken sent his army then as he has now. East of the lake everyone perished, the elves were fleeing for their lives across the southern lands and anyone too slow was overtaken.”

  “Yes, I know the legend,” Graden said, “but no one knew who did it. The invaders vanished without a trace and no one could identify the source.”

  “Draeken, the demigod of chaos, was the source,” Braon explained. “Few knew that a few months prior to the holocaust, the oracle of the age sent a powerful warrior to destroy Draeken. Lakonus, said to be born of elves, humans, and dwarves, was prophesied to be the only one capable of slaying Draeken. We now know that he did not succeed in his quest, but rather imprisoned Draeken in a manner we do not understand.”

  The prince blew out his breath and moved to a window. Leaning on the sill for a moment, he seemed lost in thought before he spun on his heel. “If the tales of the ancient holocaust are even close to true, than we are all lost.”

  Newhawk chuckled dryly, startling the prince. “We have our own Oracle, and more time to prepare than our ancestors had. There is also another person with lineage of the three races that is on his way to slay Draeken.”

  “How do you know he will succeed where Lakonus failed?” the prince challenged.

  “We don’t,” Braon said, and then shrugged. “But it’s not in our nature to lie down and die. I am sure there are a few that are foolish, and will perish because they refuse to join the gathering. But most of the races will either be driven to gather with us, or come of their own accord when invited.”

  “Like us,” Graden stated.

  “The ones who come early stand the greatest chance of surviving, and many of your people will live because of your faith and foresight.”

  “Because of my father’s faith and foresight,” Graden corrected. “He is the one who believed and began the evacuation of Talinor.”

  “Where is your father?” Newhawk asked.

  “He and my brother took five hundred of our best cavalry. They intend to delay the invasion by razing forests and destroying bridges.”

  “With their numbers, it may not do much," Braon said, "but it is exceptionally brave and will no doubt save many lives.”

  The prince sighed. “So what is the plan now, if I accept this young man to lead my people?”

  Braon studied the man before him, trying to think of the best way to convince him to trust him. His instincts told him that the prince was ideal for a general, and he desperately needed a human one. The man demonstrated humility, and held no qualms about relinquishing leadership to someone that he believed in. A flick of his eyes to Newhawk when he’d said if showed he would follow Newhawk—but the fact that the strong druid accepted Braon was not enough for the prince.

  While Braon thought, the prince’s lips twitched as if he were resisting the urge to smile. The movement seemed oddly familiar, and Braon sifted through memories trying to identify what it reminded him of. A smile blossomed on his face when the memory popped into his mind. “I hear you play Stratos, Prince Graden. Is that accurate?”

  “Yes," Graden grinned. "It’s how I practice strategy like everyone else, but what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Are you any good?” Braon pressed.

  The prince’s grin widened, but his expression betrayed his confusion. “I prefer not to boast, but I have rarely lost.”

  “Did you ever lose in a tournament to a boy?” Braon asked, his voice quiet.

  The prince started and focused on the young man. “It can’t be . . .” he exclaimed. “That kid did things on the board that I had never seen.”

  Braon allowed a small smile. “I have lost some weight since then.” Prince Graden stared at him before bursting into laughter, and Braon didn’t miss the subtle appraising look from Newhawk as well.

  “It’s you! I can’t believe it,” Graden exclaimed. “I saw you demolish my pieces like . . . like you were inside my head!” He threw his hands in the air and shook his head, adding, �
�I remember thinking that if you ever led an actual army you would be unstoppable, but no one would ever follow you if all they saw was an overweight boy.”

  “That is why we have Newhawk,” Braon said, sweeping his hand towards his second in command. “Almost everyone believes that Newhawk leads the defenses. Few know that much of what he does is under my direction.”

  “Brilliant again,” Graden chuckled in wonder. “You lead the army, but everyone sees and follows him.”

  “Exactly,” Braon agreed. “However, there are key people that I need to lead the defenses. Five more generals to be exact, one for each of the battalions I am forming.”

  “Wait,” the prince said, sobering and raising a hand. “You want me to be one of your war council?”

  Braon nodded and waited for the prince’s response. At first Graden didn’t answer, turning around and looking out the window at his people entering the city. For several moments the silence stretched between them as the prince considered the offer. Then he sighed and turned around.

  “As long as I may choose the men directly under me, as well as send another to finish the evacuation . . . then I accept.”

  Braon sensed a certain level of reluctance in the prince’s words, so he took a step forward. “If you have any doubt, General, now is the time to voice it.”

  The prince laughed dryly. “Inside my head again, Braon, but I was not doubting you. I was doubting whether we will survive.”

  “As long as people choose light over darkness, then we will stand a chance,” Braon said. “Now let’s get started.” Turning to Newhawk he said, “Take General Graden to the House of Runya. Get him up to date on everything and explain his Link. Then assign him Kit and direct him to his Battalion on the Eastern Falls.”

  Newhawk accepted his orders with a nod, and Braon turned back to Graden. “Do not reveal my role unless it is to someone you trust. To everyone else, Newhawk is in command. As soon as you assume leadership of your battalion, begin forming your structure according to Newhawk's instructions. You are free to change them, but stay within the parameters of our overall strategy. If I need you, you will know through your Link. Good luck, General.”