Prophecy's Daughter

by Richard Phillips

  Ty snorted in disgust but sat calmly atop the big stallion as they continued toward the approaching soldiers. The four riders brought their horses to a stop as the soldiers spread out. Several had crossbows leveled in their direction. Many stared in wonder at Kim.

  “Are you folks lost?” the young captain in charge asked. “Because you’re sure heading toward a dead end. There’s nothing this way but a valley.”

  “If that’s where High Lord Rafel has settled in, then we’re on the right track,” said Arn. “I’m surprised you haven’t recognized me, Hanibal.”

  “Blade!” The captain’s face showed a moment’s shock, but he recovered quickly.

  A murmur ran through the line of soldiers.

  “It must have been him that cut Jaradin up,” one of the soldiers said, pointing at Arn. “There’s not many who could manage that.”

  Angry mutters rippled through the ranks.

  “At ease!” Hanibal commanded.

  The soldiers immediately snapped back into military form, although their eyes betrayed the depth of their anger.

  “Jaradin Scot’s been hurt? I’m sorry to hear that,” Arn said. “I always thought highly of him and his brother. Fine rangers, those two.”

  “Drop your weapons and accompany us back to the fort,” said Hanibal. “One of my men will pick them up. I’ll return them to you if High Lord Rafel allows it.”

  Arn smiled. “I know you mean well and I’m sure you’re following standard procedure, but I surrender my weapons to no one. The same goes for my companions. But we will ride back with you, and you can have your crossbow men ride behind us. When we get back to the fort, we’ll wait outside the outer walls, under guard, until you have an opportunity to talk to Lord Rafel. Then we’ll do what he commands. Fair enough?”

  Hanibal considered the offer for a moment. Arn knew that Hanibal was aware that he had been a protégé of Rafel’s.

  “Agreed,” Hanibal said.

  The captain signaled, and a dozen riders with crossbows fell in behind the four companions, while others flanked them left and right. The way John fingered his bow concerned Arn, but when Kim leaned from her mount to place a hand on her husband’s arm, that worry eased. Beside them, Ty sat on his mount, remarkably calm.

  Hanibal turned and led the four toward the narrow ravine.

  Arn gazed in awe as they passed between cliff walls that stretched skyward on either side, feeling an urge to dismount and test his climbing skills against the rock faces. A league up the canyon, as the gap between the cliffs reached its narrowest point, the riders came to a halt where the rushing stream blocked their access to the fort that stood on the opposite side.

  “Your friends have been busy,” Ty said.

  Arn nodded. High Lord Rafel, Conqueror of the Vorg Hordes, Commander of the Army of Tal, was a leader who accomplished what others thought impossible. Arn looked forward to seeing him once again, an anticipation that had been growing since Galad had escorted them out of Endar.

  Hanibal wheeled his horse toward the four travelers. “You will wait here. My men have orders to shoot to kill if you make any move toward your weapons. That applies to the Endarian as well.”

  Arn noticed the dangerous light in John’s eyes.

  “That’ll be fine. We’ll sit here until you return with Lord Rafel.”

  “If that is his desire,” said Hanibal, turning his horse and passing across the just-lowered drawbridge and into the fort.

  A loud braying from Arn’s right echoed off the gorge’s sheer walls. He turned to see Ty sitting backward on the palomino stallion, arms folded, head tilted back, golden locks matching his horse’s mane. A booming rendition of one of the raunchier tavern songs popular along the border spilled from his lips.

  Oh, I had a girl, from the town of Traborg,

  She was one half grun, and the other half vorg,

  She was minus one eye, her face full of pits,

  What she lacked for in brains, she made up for in tits,

  She had three on the left, and four on the right,

  To feel them real good took me nearly all night . . .

  The soldiers relaxed as they recognized the ditty, and laughter spread through their ranks. Even the men atop the wall seemed to be enjoying the concert, the lyrics of which droned on interminably.

  “Let’s hope the high lord gets here soon,” John said. “I don’t know how much more of this I can endure.”

  Kim had long since learned to ignore Ty’s crude attempts to nettle her. Arn noticed a bored expression on her face, although he also thought he caught the hint of a smirk. The Endarian princess had grown comfortable with her companions, and even John no longer felt it necessary to shelter her from Ty’s wit.

  Mercifully, they were not forced to endure Ty’s lilting verse for long, as Rafel trotted across the drawbridge mounted atop a bay warhorse. Upon seeing Arn, he leapt off the mount and tossed the reins to one of the soldiers.

  “Put those crossbows down!” his voice boomed as he strode toward Arn, who slid out of the saddle and extended his hand to the warlord. Rafel took the extended hand and shook it heartily, clapping his other palm down firmly on Arn’s shoulder.

  “It’s good to see you, son. We had heard some rumors that you might be dead.”

  The depth of the elder man’s feelings rang in his voice.

  “It’s good to see you, too, High Lord,” Arn said, returning the grip and the feeling. “As you can see, I’m still around.”

  “I apologize for the greeting. Something happened yesterday that’s got everyone spooked.”

  “No need to apologize. You can tell old Gaar that I’m impressed with that son of his. He’s turned into quite a leader.”

  “You’re right about that. Gaar will be glad you noticed.”

  “Speaking of good soldiers, how is Lord Alan doing? Last time I saw him, he was getting pretty damn good himself.”

  “Just don’t let him hear you say it. He is strong as an ox and afraid of nothing. That’s his problem. He understands tactics and strategy but loses himself to fury in the heat of battle. He might turn out fine if I can keep him from getting himself and everyone around him killed.”

  Arn could hear the contrasting currents of disappointment and hope in the high lord’s voice.

  “And how is Carol?”

  The question sounded like small talk, but Arn broached it painfully. As a teen, he had adored her like a beloved little sister whom he had watched over. It was painful to think of how she had come to despise him when he rejected her advances—not that he’d wanted to. But at her seventeen to his twenty-two years, such a turn in their relationship would have felt wrong. And the call of Arn’s darker side would not allow him to give up his longing for vengeance.

  Rafel’s face clouded. “She’s fine, though I’m worried about her today. She snuck off to go riding when I didn’t want her to leave the vale, what with all this trouble yesterday. She’s just as strong-willed as she’s always been, though. I can’t hog-tie her.”

  The high lord shifted his attention to the others. “Introduce me to your companions, and then we’ll go somewhere where we can have a more leisurely conversation.”

  Arn turned toward the trio, who had also dismounted. “This dark-eyed fellow is John, the big wild man is Ty, and the lovely one of the bunch is Princess Kimber of the Endarians.”

  Rafel shook the hands of John and Ty as they were introduced, but stopped, stunned before the princess. After several seconds, he managed to recover his composure enough to speak, bowing his head gracefully as he took Kim’s hand in his.

  “Excuse my stumbling greeting, Highness,” Rafel said. “It’s just that you remind me very much of someone I used to know.”

  Kim laughed, a melodic sound that lifted the spirits of all who listened. “You could not have greeted me in a more pleasing way. I have looked forward to meeting you for a long time.”

  Rafel stared for several more seconds and said, “Follow me back to the fort
, where we can talk more comfortably. I am anxious to hear your story and to answer any questions you may have of me. I have a few for you, too, Arn.”

  The high lord mounted his horse once again. Arn and the others followed suit.

  Rafel led the riders across the drawbridge. Inside the fort, ladders led up to a high walkway that allowed troops to shelter behind the forward battlements.

  Arn and his companions followed Rafel out through the fort’s rear gate. Farther to the east, at another bend in the river, he saw a second fort and understood. If the lower battlement fell to attackers, Rafel’s men would use its rear wall to fire down on those within. And when they were forced to retreat, they would fall back into the fort that blocked the gorge farther upstream.

  The road led to the place where another drawbridge had been lowered across the creek. As they passed into this fort, the nature of the high lord’s defenses dawned upon Arn. The fortifications were a progression of small forts built where the rushing water approached the canyon’s northern or southern walls. Then, as the watery maelstrom cut across the canyon to the other side, the next drawbridge led to another fort. This sequence of switchbacks blocked by forts repeated itself again, the sole access to each being the drawbridges.

  This third and final fort was larger than either of the lower forts but was clearly a work in progress.

  “Impressive,” Arn said as they came to a halt and dismounted.

  Rafel nodded. “It’s coming along. We still have much to complete.” He turned toward one of the soldiers. “Have the grooms take care of these horses.”

  “Yes, High Lord.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to go with your grooms,” Ty said, “at least until I get this stallion settled in. He won’t let anyone else touch him. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  “That’ll be fine,” Rafel said.

  He turned and led the others into one of the buildings. Arn ran his hands over the rough-hewn logs that formed the wall as he entered. They were large, with a deep, rust coloring that he had not seen before.

  “What kind of wood is this?” John asked.

  “It’s taken from trees that grow along the high slopes just outside the canyon. We have teams of men cutting and snaking the logs down. Dangerous work, but we’ve been lucky and haven’t lost anyone so far.”

  The warlord led them into a large room lit by a handful of lamps. He motioned for Arn and the others to be seated as he sat at the center of one of several long tables.

  “Well, my young friend,” Rafel said, “tell me, what fortunate set of circumstances has guided your footsteps here to my valley?”

  “Gladly,” Arn said. “But first, I feel obligated to let Kim tell her part of the tale.”

  Rafel leaned back in his chair as Kim rose and walked toward him. Her next action startled everyone in the room. The princess placed her hand in Rafel’s, dropped to her knees, and began to weep.

  The high lord leaned forward and placed his other hand under her chin, lifting it so he could look in her eyes. “What is it, Highness?”

  Several seconds passed before Kim recovered her composure to the extent that she could speak. When she did, her voice trembled with emotion. “I am sorry. This is not how I planned to say this. My mother, Queen Elan, sends her fondest greetings and her undying love.”

  Rafel looked stunned. “What? Elan? Your mother?”

  “I . . .” Kim struggled to continue. “I love you, too, though all I have known of you came from my mother’s shared memories of you. For you see, I am your daughter.”

  Rafel froze. Suddenly he leapt to his feet, sweeping the Endarian woman up in his arms, embracing her as though time had lost its meaning. Tears ran down his cheeks onto her upturned face. Several long minutes passed before he could speak.

  Finally Rafel released his hug, holding the princess instead at arm’s length, staring into her sparkling eyes. “Gods! You hit me with a vorg war hammer, daughter.”

  “I hit myself with it as well,” Kim said, wiping her tear-streaked cheeks with her hands. “Arn introduced you to John earlier. What he did not tell you is that John is my husband.”

  When the high lord turned his gaze on John, it was as if he was seeing the man for the first time.

  John reached out to shake Rafel’s hand, but the high lord swept him into a powerful hug that the smaller man returned somewhat awkwardly. Rafel released him and stepped back.

  “What a day. Not only do I learn that I have another daughter, but I also discover that I have a son-in-law. Welcome to the family, son.”

  “I’m honored,” said John.

  Rafel led them back to their seats.

  “Well, well, I guess it’s about time that I hear this tale of yours, since it brought you on this long and dangerous quest, in somewhat questionable company I might add,” he said, arching an eyebrow at Arn.

  “I can tell that your words do not truly state your opinion of Arn,” Kim said. “For that, I am very glad, since these two, along with Ty, saved me from the vorgs and allowed me to find you.”

  Clearing her throat, Kim began the tale of her mission to find her father, of her long and dangerous journey from Endar Pass, eastward across the Northern Plains, and then southeast across the Borderland Range toward Tal. She spoke of the vorgs who had attacked her party, killing her guards and taking Kim to the town of Rork, where she was to be sold at auction. She had been fortunate indeed that John and Arn had been there to rescue her and then, along with Ty, helped her escape her pursuers.

  Ty rejoined the group during the telling.

  When Kim reached the part in her tale of their discovery of the existence of Lagoth, long thought destroyed, she let Arn tell of his and Ty’s excursion into Kragan’s ancient stronghold.

  Arn spoke of the slave city beneath Lagoth and the spell Kragan had cast that caused anyone not loyal to the wielder to become slaves themselves. But it was his revelation that a twenty-paces-tall statue of Carol stood in a chamber beneath the city that widened Rafel’s eyes.

  Shortly thereafter, a hearty woman and two helpers carried several trays of food into the room. Conversation stalled as the four traveling companions heartily consumed the meal.

  The telling wore on through the afternoon and into the evening, moving around the table as Arn, John, and Ty each added their portions to the story, followed by Rafel’s account of his own group’s journey. As he drew to a conclusion, Gaar entered.

  “Sir,” Gaar said, “I think you need to see something outside.”

  Rafel rose from his chair. “What’s going on?”

  “That you’ll need to see for yourself.”

  Arn followed Rafel through the door, with the others trailing along at his heels. As he emerged from the building, he observed that the sky was darkening rapidly, not just with the gathering twilight. Huge thunderheads boiled overhead, moving at a pace that belied explanation. Lightning flashes chased each other across the sky, followed by the loud crackle of thunder. Some bolts struck so close to the fortress that a sound like the ripping of paper preceded the boom.

  “I’ve never seen clouds move like this,” said John.

  “I hope it’s your magic wielder doing that and not someone else,” Arn said, turning toward Rafel.

  The warlord shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Hawthorne died on the trail.”

  “Sad news, indeed,” said Arn.

  Rafel strode rapidly to the fort’s western wall and climbed one of the tall ladders that led to the upper walkway. Arn and the others followed him as he moved to the point that overlooked the center of the canyon. From such a vantage, they saw that the clouds were rushing toward one central point, several leagues distant.

  “Carol’s out there,” Rafel said. “She’s in that damned canyon with the cliff dwellers.”

  The high lord turned and ran along the walkway toward the ladder, cutting off the question that rose to Arn’s lips. He raced after Rafel, catching up as he neared the stables.

  “Get me m
y horse now!” Rafel bellowed. “And tell Hanibal I want thirty men ready to ride in five minutes.”

  Two soldiers scrambled away to comply with their high lord’s orders.

  “I’d like to come along,” Arn said.

  “Us, too,” said Ty.

  “Fine. Except I want Kim to stay here,” Rafel said. Then, seeing her flashing eyes, he added, “Don’t worry, Kim. It’s not that I doubt your ability to handle yourself. This is strictly a selfish decision. I have one daughter out there already. With two of you in danger, I would be too worried to function.”

  His kindly smile washed the anger from the Endarian’s face.

  John took Kim’s hands and leaned in to kiss her. “I will return.”

  “I do not doubt it,” she said.

  Ty led Arn and John to the stalls where their horses were being kept. The three men were soon mounted and waiting for the soldiers, who began arriving shortly thereafter, falling into line just before the drawbridge.

  Arn was pleased to catch sight of Alan among the soldiers. The young lord had grown from a strapping lad into a man since he had last seen him. Alan was the same height as Arn, but with his barrel chest and thick form, he weighed as much as Ty, who stood a head taller.

  Hanibal arrived with Rafel, cutting short Arn’s recollections. “Lower the drawbridge!”

  The rumble of a heavy winch and the creaking of thick ropes followed the warlord’s yell.

  “Column of twos. Fall in!” Hanibal’s command brought the soldiers into a double column. “At the trot . . . forward!”

  Rafel was already through the raised gates as Hanibal led the column of soldiers out. Ty, Arn, and John trotted out after them. As the column passed through the two lower forts to exit over the final drawbridge, they picked up a ground-burning canter that Arn and the others matched.

  As the lightning died out, darkness descended rapidly, forcing the riders to slow to a trot.

  Suddenly Rafel’s voice rang out. “Halt!”

  The word echoed eerily among the surrounding canyons.

  Hanibal’s voice broke the silence. “Every third rider back on the left, light up a torch.”

  Arn heard the sound of steel striking flint, followed shortly by oily rags sputtering alight. Before long, lit torches illuminated the entire column of soldiers, casting a glow outward for several paces.