There was a gasp among the throng. Ambassador Martis of Windstrom spoke first. “But we are not ready. The armies of the other realms will not be able to mobilise themselves in time. Readying for battle requires weeks of preparation for the soldiers and supplies. It may be too late. The battle may be over before the armies from the other realms get here, and even then they may not be combat-ready.”
“How substantial is Gorath’s army?” asked another.
The King winced. “Maybe twenty legions strong.” Silence fell over those present. “Forty thousand soldiers,” a hushed voice gasped.
“They are far too strong, my lord. Ampheus is sure to fall.”
“It is worse,” said the King. “Our spies informed me that their ranks are swelled by creatures of the night from the darkest reaches of the world. Beasts dragged from the murky swamps of Galbraith, flighted creatures from the dark caves of Dern, who feed on the blood of other animals. All under the unholy influence of Gorath.
“Also, Gorath has assembled a coven of Black Wizards who will control these creatures in battle. They will fight to the death without care or pain, and lust only for human blood. It is unknown what other instruments of fear and terror the coven can raise from the dark power.”
The King sighed. “Like you, I fear Ampheus will fall and Gorath will go on to conquer each of the other realms one by one. Unless we are united we cannot repel his forces and now it may be too late. He has outmanoeuvred us; we are not ready, not strong enough to fight back.
“I also fear he may have spies working within these walls, undermining us and feeding intelligence back to him on the status of our preparations. He knows we are not ready and hence he is going to strike as soon as he can.”
He paused as the room fell silent. Another voice asked, “Can Ampheus hold out until the other armies arrive here?”
The King nodded. “Maybe; sieges are attritional. A month, two months under siege even with an enemy of unknown strength, we may hold.”
“It’ll be difficult and we’ll all be trapped,” Logar added.
Ladryn, the King’s wizard, turned to the King. “Sire, what if we abandoned Ampheus? We could make our way to meet the other armies and fight the Horde as one elsewhere.”
The King slammed his fist down on the table. “Never! That is not an option. Ampheus is a symbol of freedom to the Four Realms. It has been home to the kings of Terramis for generations, standing proud in defiance against Gorath. I will sacrifice my life before Ampheus falls and every man and woman in this castle feels the same way. Troth to the Realms!” And he beat a fist against his chest.
A cheer welled up from the ranks of his men. “Troth to the Realms.”
“Well then, Sire,” Logar said. “We need to bring forward our plans to ready Ampheus for siege. We will need to finalise our stocks of provisions and arm the defences. We need to ensure the people from the surrounding villages and farms are accommodated in the castle.”
The King nodded. “We cannot sacrifice the council. I suggest its members ready themselves to leave for Aquamura and Windstrom. There you should be safe for the time being. With you I will send my messages. These will urge the armies of the other realms to make haste and come to the aid of Ampheus as soon as possible. Ampheus must not fall.”
The King continued, “I, though, will stay here and fight beside my people.”
“No, Sire, you must go with the rest of the council,” another voice replied.
“No, it is my will. I will remain; my son will take my place on the council. If anything happens to me he is the heir to the throne. He will take my duties and represent Terramis.”
The Crown Prince leapt to his feet. “No father, I refuse. I have as much right to fight and lay down my life as anybody. I will not be protected from this fight. This is my kingdom as much as anybody else’s.”
The King placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “This is my decision, it must be obeyed. This is not taken lightly but this is in the best interests of the kingdom.” The Prince bowed his head, distraught that his father had not listened to his plea.
The Ambassador from Windstrom spoke again. “Sire, have we not forgotten something, something which could save us?” Everybody turned towards him. “Saturnus! Let us not simply cast aside and ignore the prophecy. It was written that the fate of our worlds would still remain in the hands of the Druids. Perhaps today they may still be found in the wilds of the Misty Mountains. They may arise from the resting place of Saturnus and awake him from his slumber. He may be able to aid us in this final battle.”
“Saturnus!” echoed the King. “Yes, I know the prophecy by heart, more than any man. The last declaration of Saturnus before he took himself into solitude, into the Misty Mountains.
“‘If ever the earth faces its greatest challenge, send for me and seek me out. For when the time comes, only I will be able to guide a path to victory. Only I will ensure you fulfil man’s destiny to save this world from evil’.
“But that was a millennium ago, and we don’t know if Saturnus lives or where to find him.”
The Ambassador continued, “But Sire, I fear all the armies of earth are not enough to save the Ancient World. We need the Druid. We need his guidance to help us.”
“Even there is a possibility the prophecy was true, who shall do this?” replied the King.
Logar rose from his chair. “I shall go.” Then the Prince interrupted. “Father, I believe this is my true destiny, not sitting in council meetings; you must allow me to go. I will do all in my power to find Saturnus.”
The King lowered his eyes and shook his head silently. “We cannot put our faith and lives of our people on a thousand-year-old prophecy. Logar, you are needed to lead the defence of Ampheus. My son, my decision is made; you will join the ambassadors. My mind is made up.
“Tonight, let us break bread and drink wine with friends before we are parted from each other. We shall celebrate, a feast. This may be our last opportunity, for a long, long time.”
Chapter 5
Kidnapped
Logar approached Daylon. “Follow me, the King requests your presence in the armoury.” When they arrived they saw a number of the King’s loyal guards had already assembled. The King acknowledged their arrival and signalled for the guards to shut the doors behind them.
“What is about to be revealed to you has been a secret of my ancestors for many centuries. I share it with you. I do not take this decision lightly but given the scale of the perils we face we need all the help we can muster. Follow me.”
He walked to the wall at the rear of the armoury and pressed his signet ring into a small hole under a flaming torch and pulled on a torch holder. “Bring a couple of the torches as we will need the light.”
With a dull, grinding sound, the door slid to the left to reveal a secret vault behind the wall. A rush of stale air exhaled from the inside room as the door wedged open. The thick dust on the floor suggested the room had not been entered for many years.
As the King walked down the long thin room, he pulled linen cloths off a series of busts on the pedestals that lined the walls. He sent more dust swirling into the air, causing members of the group to cough and rub their eyes.
As the air slowly cleared and the dust settled, a line of busts was revealed, those of ancient kings and queens of Terramis. The King spoke. “These are the busts of my forefathers. These are not their tombs, for as you know well the lineage of kings are buried in the catacombs under the castle chapel. No, here is hidden the ancient kings’ and queens’ sacred arms.
“As it was for me, it was for my forefathers. On the occasion of each king’s coronation, he is presented with a gift. It is a weapon forged from the rarest metals found in the sacred stones and the majestic yew tree of Dryw Henge.
“Bequeathed by the Druids and forged here at Ampheus itself, each weapon has the power to impart on its holder
unparalleled ability, speed, power and skill, unmatched by any other man. But only if used in the desire for peace, justice and good.”
The King touched his sword. “My own sword, ‘Light Wielder’, was crafted thus.” He placed his hand on Logar’s shoulder. “Apologies, my friend. I always felt like a fraud, but this is why you never bested me.”
Logar smiled. “My lord, with or without Light Wielder you would be a formidable opponent.”
They surveyed the array of weapons before them. Logar gasped. “Are these what I think they are?”
The King gestured at him and smiled. “Tell me what you think you see?” Logar whirled around. “Some of these weapons are legends; they can’t be real.”
“They are very real indeed,” said the King. “Each is held here for safekeeping. Some have been here for hundreds of years. Perhaps it is time for them to greet the light of day and to dance again in the heat of battle. This is the legacy from my forefathers.”
He motioned his arm along the pedestals of swords. “‘Beast Slayer’, ‘Truth Giver’, ‘Iron Enforcer’. Logar, Gulden, Rolden, come forward. I present you with these swords; use them with honour.”
He paused, picked up a fourth sword, more ornate than the others, with gems embedded in a golden hilt. He held it aloft and swept his hand with admiration over the ornately engraved blade. He took his son’s arm. “Aron, my son. Perhaps the most revered and fabled sword of all. It is the sword of King Allard, ‘Golden Blade’.” Aron took it from his father and swept it to and fro.
“Father, I will prove myself worthy of such a blade.”
“My son,” responded the King. “You have proved yourself worthy many times over already, and you have every right to possess the sword.”
The King bequeathed a number of other swords to his most trusted commanders. There were also other weapons there which he passed to a few chosen men and women based on their proven talents in combat.
“Keilif.” The King handed him a longbow with silver from Dryw Henge engraved in the smooth limbs of the great yew tree. “‘True Flight’; may your aim be true as your bowmen who defend the battlements of Ampheus.
“Dorf, take this war hammer, ‘Thunderclap’; nothing will survive the power of its blow; let it unleash the power of the darkest storm clouds; use it to defend our castle’s barbican.
“Ailin, Aland, ‘Flare’ and ‘Flame’, a pair of crossbows forged from the same rich vein.
“Urien, ‘Dauntless’, a shield befitting the commander of my cavalry. May the strength of your shoulder clash into the enemy’s ranks with the roar of the boldest lion.”
Each took their weapon humbly from the King.
The King paused, mulling over a decision. “Daylon, come forward; this is most unorthodox, but we live in unpredictable times. Here is the Staff of Talisien.” He referred to a long, smooth, white staff with a hollow at the top of it; it appeared like an oversized needle to Daylon.
There was a murmur amongst the surrounding soldiers. The King gave them a stern glance, which silenced any dissent.
“There appears to be a link between the boy and the crystal. If he proves his worth perhaps he may one day wield the staff. Daylon, keep it in safekeeping. If the time is right, perhaps give the boy a chance to wield it.”
The King moved to the end of the room where a final pedestal stood. He reached out, uncertainly feeling for something. His fingers tightened and clasped something in front of him; he raised his hands and revealed a circular totem beneath.
There was a gasp from the room. “A cloak of invisibility,” he said, “behold the Totem of Terramis.”
Aron said, “Father, is this wise? The totem has not been seen for more than a generation. Perhaps it would best remain hidden.” It was a dark granite shallow cylinder with ancient markings carved into its sides. Waves of light washed over its surface, giving it life.
The King nodded. “But it should serve as a reminder to us all that this is our destiny. This is the reason we stand our ground at Ampheus. We dare not fail, and the Totem of Terramis must not fall into Gorath’s grasp.” He draped the invisible cloak over the totem and it disappeared once again.
“Well, my friends, I can do no more for you. Our success or failure is in your hands. Go forth bravely, with honour, the hopes of our people are with you and the power of good protects you.” The King led them from the room. “Tonight we celebrate and say goodbye to our friends from the other realms.”
Then as the room fell silent, a slight shuffling sound was heard and dust was unsettled in the gloom. With a slight scraping noise, a last sword was lifted from a pedestal; it was the sword of a pagan queen.
The sword was raised high and carefully swung from side to side; the purple amethyst embedded in the hilt of the blade glowed warmly under the grasp of its holder. The shadow made its way to the door as it was closing.
At the same time the shadow wrapped the sword under the invisibility cloak so both the sword and its new master were invisible. The door closed next to the guards. The shadow slipped by them with perhaps a whisper of a breeze, the slight pad of a step as the guards continued to chat about Marie, the young barmaid from the King’s Head tavern.
*
Despite the dark cloud of potential war hanging over everyone, there seemed to be an air of excitement around the castle. An extra bit of hustle and bustle as everyone prepared themselves for the evening’s festivities.
Leo wandered back to the castle. He watched jugglers and acrobats practise in the square. The traffic in and out of the kitchens seemed particularly hectic. Leo stopped to take in the scene and took in some of the smells which drifted from inside. It made him famished, so he headed back to his room to change out of his clothes.
He was beginning to enjoy the lifestyle. As Leo entered his room, the bulky wooden tub already steamed with hot water in the middle of the room. New clothes were laid out on his bed. He sat soaking in the tub with his eyes closed until finally, the water was too cold to bear, and his fingers and toes were completely pruned. He got out and towelled himself down and dressed. He was now standing in front of the mirror admiring himself.
Not bad, not bad at all, he thought. Leo wore a blue and yellow silk tunic, yellow tights and blue suede shoes.
There was a knock at the door and Daylon stood outside.
They walked into the main hall, which was an astounding sight: colourful banners hung from the balconies where heralds stood with their trumpets. Marble columns lined the walls where guards in blue and gold livery held their pikes close to their sides. A huge table was laid out in the centre of the hall, the head of the table at the top, and two long benches stretched down across the room.
Leo was led to one of these and scanned the suckling pig and game, with fresh vegetables on wooden platters. There were also bulky earthenware pots of beer and wine and pewter cutlery and plates set out in front of each chair.
Leo frowned. He had found himself sitting next to Logar and was none too pleased and made a face at Daylon. Daylon shrugged back at him, but soon the chorus of a herald of trumpets disturbed them and everybody turned towards the main door, which opened.
A steward announced the Royal party, which was led by the King, who wore a golden crown rested on his grey hair and a deep purple gown with white fur trimming. He escorted the Queen by the hand.
Leo had never seen such a striking and elegant woman. He realised where the Princess had got her beauty. The Queen was followed by the Princess herself, who was stunning in a long pink silk dress with silver threads sewn into her hair. Next to her stood Prince Aron.
As the Princess passed Leo she turned to him and smiled; he felt his head go light, his heart was singing, or at least it was playing a thumping beat. Leo felt he was also cast under somebody else’s gaze and glanced around the room. He caught sight of Prince Aron looking at him and he was chilled by what he saw.
/> The Prince was staring at him with a cold hard stare, which unnerved him. He felt it penetrate him and turned away as the King and Queen took their seats. It was clear the Prince was still smarting from the King’s decision to send him away from Ampheus but Leo for some unknown reason was also a target of his anger.
The King surveyed everyone around him and raised and lowered his hand. Everybody took their seats and a murmur of conversation started, which was soon drowned out by a band, which began to play. A servant poured the King some red wine into a golden goblet, and he took a sip.
It was obviously a signal for the rest of the court assembled there, who commenced eating. The acrobats and jugglers Leo had seen practising in the square earlier now entertained the diners. The jugglers would juggle balls and fruit from the bowls on the table and everybody hollered with appreciation at every trick.
In a finale, they requested an assistant and somehow managed to drag Leo to the floor between the dining tables. They juggled knives either side of him. He stood still, terrified, while everyone in the hall bellowed with merriment. Once they had finished, Leo returned to his chair and Logar slapped him on the back. “You are lucky they’ve had not had so much to drink tonight. Last month they took someone’s nose off!” and roared again with laughter. Leo frowned at him.
Next, acrobats cartwheeled and flip-flopped across the room in a whirl of colours. They also performed balancing acts as they formed pyramids of bodies showing amazing feats of strength and control. More food was brought to the tables by a steady stream of servants bringing dishes from the kitchens. They dodged dogs that hung around awaiting scraps which may come their way.
After the dinner the King clapped his hands. “Dancing, I want dancing; let the band play and everyone dance!”
Couples spilled on to the centre of the hall. Leo realised the Princess had left the head table and now stood in front of him. “Leo, would you dance with me?” He was surprised and caught off guard.
Ampheus Page 6