He’d seen himself as a revolutionary, a lone figure who saw the truth that others failed to see: that the Four Realms was not meeting its potential. It could be a great empire, with the right expansion policy and investment in its military prowess; there was nothing that it could not achieve. And the Druids with their powers and insight should be the ones to lead the way; it made perfect sense. Everyone would prosper, from the lofty nobility to the lowly peasants. But the establishment, the leaders of the Druid groves, the politicians, the nobility, were too short-sighted, set in their ways; they did not want to upturn the apple cart, and wanted to hold on to and protect the power they already wielded.
If he concentrated hard he could just remember his ideals through the fog. Through the mists that clouded his thoughts, that steered his thinking, and morphed into something else. ‘Was it old age?’ he mused. A thousand years is a long time. Or simply the side effects of the Quintessence. It prolonged his life, but at what price, what cost? Sometimes, just for the briefest of moments, he’d feel a flicker, catch a glimpse of a young man. A young man he recognised; now who was he? But the mists would draw a curtain across the image.
He concentrated, fought the clouds in his head for the briefest of moments and peered through the circling vapour. Yes, the beginning. He remembered the gathering in the Gamuran grove, a handful of young Druids and two Elders.
The young Druids had just completed their studies: astronomy, philosophy and theology, which had been discussed at length. The conversation had moved to the stars and their movements, the size of the cosmos and the earth, the world of nature and the powers of deities. The harvests had been poor for the past few years and now the population of the realm was starving. Some of the Druids proposed sacrifices to the gods and ceremonies to ward off sorcery within the lands. But Gorath pondered this, and during a pause in conversation said, “We just need to invade someone else and take their food.” It seemed a practical solution to what previously appeared to have been a particularly mystical problem. In the silence that followed he quickly added, “We have the totems, and with those we can wield tremendous power. By invading other lands we can plunder their food and materials so that the Four Realms could prosper.”
They had scoffed and laughed at him. Nobody would listen to the foolish rantings of this young man. In fact, he’d been demoted, pressed into a vow of silence. But, instead of putting him off, it hardened his resolve. So obsessed he became in his own personal beliefs that he started seeing it as the reality. The only reality that made sense. Even now it was absolutely true. It had taken a long time, but once he had control over the Four Realms, then there was no limit to what they may achieve. A thought came into his mind, and yes, he was justified in harming or punishing others for being ‘wrong’ and standing in his way. It was a burden that he would take and one that he shouldered for the people of the realms.
People called him pure evil. It surprised and confused him. No, dangerous men in dark back rooms plotted evil deeds; evil husbands beat their wives; and children would disappear in the dead of night. That was not him. No, he was a visionary. He had devoted followers, a clear vision for a better future for the good of all. It was those that opposed him that were evil, and he needed to wipe them from the face of the earth.
Right and wrong, good and evil, it was just a point of view; one’s belief very much depends on the perspective from where you are standing. The poacher may be delighted to catch a hare to feed his family. But that would be no warming consolation to her litter of leverets left cold in the night. One might believe, in fact, that their cute little twitching noses would be put quite out of joint. And that was Gorath’s view, from where he was standing, or to be exact, hunched and stooped; he was quite in the right, not the slightest bit evil.
But then again, a flicker of doubt, the merest glimmer sparked in the dim reaches of his mind, another fragment. A picture of a contented young man sitting cross-legged in a forest clearing, repeating the secret verses that he’d learnt by heart over the years. But like a candle in a breeze, the small flame was quickly extinguished, leaving the barest of shadows that faded into the dark.
*
King Armanar stood at the battlements with Logar and Sumnar once more. “According to legend,” he said, “Saturnus appeared in a vision of my ancestor King Adney and instructed him to build Ampheus on this island. He said it would remain a beacon for centuries to come. To provide hope and shelter for the lost, the weak, the poor and the disenchanted.
So it has been for many millennia, and so it will continue to do so. It has been assaulted and besieged many times over the years but managed to withstand all. Pray to God that it is no different this time.
It pains me to watch this Horde rampage across our lands. They are terrifying our people, stealing their belongings and stripping their farms while we shelter behind these walls. However, we cannot afford to abandon the castle; if Ampheus is lost so will be our world and everything we stand for.”
Logar nodded in agreement. “But they have not moved; they are just sitting there waiting for something, biding their time. There are reports from our lookouts that they have started building their siege equipment. It’s going to take time, and frankly you know as well as I do how sound Ampheus is; it is almost pointless.
They have not even tried to attack our battlements. I’m surprised as there is always some pipsqueak who’ll drop his trousers, moon at us or perhaps fire an arrow or two. Yet so far nothing!”
“Are we missing anything? We are well prepared to deal with Gorath’s armies, but what about his Black Wizard?” Sumnar nodded. “Ladryn and I do not discern anything as yet that would trouble us. Smoke and mirrors, literally in some cases. Gorath appears to be drained of any sorcery and we’ve not sensed any evidence of a higher wizard. I suspect most have retreated to their caves until all this is over. They are a pretty fickle lot, wizards, really.
“The Black Wizards seem to be all bark and no bite. We should be able to neutralise their incantations. Nonetheless we should be open to the possibility that they have something more dangerous. Of course, Saturnus protected Ampheus itself with a protection incantation that will diffuse fireballs and other such spells. There is always the chance of invisibility spells to smuggle men into the castle. We’ll keep sensing whether any higher order spells are being created.
“My fear lies in Gorath’s words; his spies are well informed. What if he does hunt down Aron, Ambassador Martis and our troops, and heaven forbid the Queen? Perhaps they anticipated our moves and know that there is no hope of reinforcements on the way,” said the King.
“It is a grim thought; perhaps we can take comfort that none of them has so far been paraded in front of us by Gorath. For the moment we should still assume they are free and continuing on their journeys,” said Logar.
“In which case it is all the more important that Ampheus holds for the sake of Terramis.”
“There’s every chance they may run out of food before we do,” said Logar.
“For how long? We can’t just stay here indefinitely.” Sumnar stopped. “I have just had a thought. We believed we were preparing ourselves to fight Gorath’s forces here at Ampheus. We’ve been readying ourselves for them and requested help from the other realms. We are effectively trapped here though. What if,” he hesitated, “what if it is a decoy?”
The King paled. “What are you saying, Sumnar?”
“We’ve trapped ourselves here leaving the other realms to fend for themselves. They could wipe out the other cities and still have an army to fight us at the end.
“If that is the case then they could have assembled armies months ago and the other cities could already be under siege.”
The King sounded grim: “Well, we can’t do anything for them now. They must face their own fate, as we must face ours.” He turned and left the battlements.
*
Gorath glared at his general
. “Dare you question me? Dare you? So, you believe that I did not anticipate every move on this board game. That I left anything to chance in order to take hold of the totems in my hands.
“The totems that contain so much power. The power of life and death over our whole world. Such that by a wave of my hand I could do anything, hold sway over everything, a power above even that of the gods. Through the totems I would have that power. Do you think I would leave any of that to chance?
“They think I am power-crazed, but they are weak-willed and feeble-minded. Friendship, honour, freedom and fairness. They are the attributes of decline and failure. Now the Four Realms need someone single-minded like myself who will create a world of my own making through absolute power. To rule over everything and everyone.
“I don’t intend to take Ampheus by force. When the King sees the Queen and the Prince paraded in front of his battlements, he will come to me and come willingly. For in honour and chivalry there is also foolishness; where the life of one forfeits the life of many. Cut off the head of the kingdom and the rest will soon fall without his weak and short-sighted kingship.
“Besides, my fox is in the henhouse. Our wolf amongst the sheep. When the time comes, they will reveal themselves and tip the balance of the scales in our favour. The King will not be able to do anything about it!”
*
The Princess was shadow practising her footwork and swordplay when Sumnar returned to his quarters. A quick glance told her not to rush him; the slam of the door a much stronger indication that he needed a little space, which she gave him. He took off his sword, tossed it aside and slouched on a stool. He scooped up some tobacco from his pouch and stuffed it into his pipe. He lit it with a small stick from the fire then breathed in heavily and visibly relaxed.
She looked at him questioningly. “Gorath believes he has all the cards. I can’t deny things look a little grim, but there remains hope. Hope that Prince Aron and the others will escape his clutches. Hope that our ambassadors reach the other realms and they come to our aid. All is not lost.
“And among all the doom and gloom, there is some light, though only a flicker. A flicker that could be put out with but a moment’s notice. Logar has a sister.”
“I thought Logar was an orphan,” replied the Princess.
“So did we,” said Sumnar.
“What happened to her?” asked Fayette.
“It is a long story and only a few of us with enough grey hairs know it,” he smiled.
“Logar was brought to the castle by a family of peasants. They had lived in the same smallholding as Logar’s family. A Janshai raiding party had just descended on the village without warning and left the peasants with no time to flee. Often they would kidnap Terramians and take them to serve in their mines or on the land. Many lost their lives that day and many dwellings were set ablaze.
It appears Logar’s sister was abducted, though she would have been not more than a small child. It appears that General Shomari, Gorath’s dog, a captain at the time, led the raiding party. The peasant family was one of the few survivors, as was the baby boy. They had decided to move but were unable to feed an extra mouth, so left him to be cared for at the castle.”
“So how did he become a knight, or to that point Captain of the Guard?” asked Fayette.
Sumnar chuckled. “He was a real tearaway, always in trouble. Yes, trouble was never far behind him; always in scraps; he never backed down once. I can’t remember how many times I saw him being dragged by the ear by one person or another for causing some type of scuffle. Anyway, he spent most of the time as a scully boy – one of the kitchen workers whose duties included washing and cleaning the kitchen. It is miserable work actually.
“One day, the winds and Logar’s luck changed. He got offered an apprenticeship with a fletcher crafting and manufacturing bows and the flights of arrows. In fact, he was a natural at this. He created beautifully balanced bows and became an accomplished bowman. It was not long before the nobility sought out his skills, including the King. The King asked that he demonstrate one of his bows and asked him what he would like as payment. Without any hesitation, Logar said, ‘I want to be a knight.’
“Though it caught the King off guard, as you can imagine, he granted Logar’s request. It was perhaps one of the wisest decisions he ever made. Logar refused to be granted any further favours at the King’s behest. No, he did the full apprenticeship.
“At fourteen, he became a squire. The King placed him under the guidance of an experienced knight. The knight taught him about chivalry as well as how to wield a sword and ride a horse in combat. He learnt about court life such as table manners, care and maintenance of armour and weapons, and how to manage a horse. He learnt how to read and how to play the lute, although as you could imagine that’s not one of his strengths,” he chuckled.
“He trained in martial arts and learnt how to hunt and how to hawk. Logar stood above his peers, both in stature and ability.
“At twenty, he became a knight. I remember the feast. Logar was presented with a sword, a pair of spurs, armour and a cloak, and at the end of the ceremony the King himself tapped Logar on the shoulders with the flat of his sword blade and made him a Knight of the Realm.
“Unlike his contemporaries, who spent their time travelling to tournaments, he continued to spend time on the training grounds; learnt about the art of warfare as well as such things as siege tactics. All that may serve him well in the coming months. By setting such an example to his men, and showing unswerving loyalty, it was only a matter of time before he took over as Captain of the Guard. He is respected among the knights, but also the squires, porters, guards, watchmen and men-at-arms. All are prepared to defend their captain and King without hesitation.”
“You were the knight who taught him?” asked the Princess.
“The honour was mine,” replied Sumnar.
“Well,” said the Princess. “I also appreciate the time you have taken to train me. I have found a purpose, something of substance to focus on, and ambition. Here my life has been given meaning and for that I’m thankful. I do not know whether I’m ready; there is so little time to prepare. But perhaps I can play a part.”
Sumnar smiled, “Let me tell you a story. In the wars against the outlanders many years ago, Terramis decreed that every village should send their first-born sons between the age of fifteen and thirty to fight against the outlander army. One of the dukes was ashamed for his family, as he was too old to fight and had no sons. Seeing her father like this, his daughter Bethany cut her hair, dressed in her father’s clothes and went to fight. After weeks of training in sword fighting and horsemanship, she went into battle and acquitted herself valiantly and with honour.
“After being injured it was revealed that in fact she was a girl. Instead of castigating her, the King rewarded her bravery by bestowing awards to both her and her family.
“The awards were written on the King’s personal parchment and stamped with his regal stamp. And they all lived happily ever after.”
His tone raised the Princess’s suspicions. “They all lived happily ever after? Did they or didn’t they?”
Sumnar shrugged awkwardly. “Well the end is not the point. The point is that even at short notice, Bethany acquitted herself admirably. No doubt you will do the same.”
“How did it end?” persisted Fayette.
Sumnar sighed, “If you insist. Well, when the Queen was told of this she became very jealous and sent a troop of soldiers to retrieve the King’s scrolls. Bethany defied the soldiers and unfortunately they lopped her head off!” he wrapped up quickly.
“Lopped her head off?” repeated the Princess. “Well that does not seem very ‘they all lived happily ever after’ at all!”
Sumnar reached out and placed his palm over the Princess’s hand. “Never forget this is not fantasy. Yes, there is good here, but this is also a cruel and brutal
world, and at a young age you may be unsheltered from this. You will need fortitude and courage that you did not realise you were ever capable of to endure what may confront you in the coming weeks.”
The Princess took comfort in Sumnar’s concern but had one more question.
“Tell me more about the Janshai,” asked Fayette.
Chapter 13
The Janshai
“The Janshai?” said Sumnar, who was a little taken aback. “Well, it is a heartbreaking story of how a proud tribe with noble traditions faded away over time.
“The Janshai were nomads within the Fire Realm; they were herdsmen who would roam the land for pasture. They lived in harmony with their environment. They followed the seasons and the rains so that their livestock prospered. The cattle and goats provided for the Janshai. Due to its abundance, the fine meat and cheese they bartered were sought after across the realms, bringing much needed trade for the Janshai. While they were not interested in the trappings of wealth, they forged a peaceful life, rich with traditions.
“They were also revered horsemen. It was said they could whisper with their horses and ride faster than the wind. The Janshai mount stood shorter and stockier than, say, an Amphean knight’s stallion. But my they had heart and speed and could run for ever.
“Passing through a Janshai encampment, it is said that all you would hear would be the music of chimes. This beautiful melody of the wind gently caressing the grass in its sway. The happy voices of children. Any voyager or pilgrim weary from his travels would be welcomed into their yurts. They would be offered a share of the food at their table and invited to listen to the drums and songs sung as the sun dipped over the horizon and disappeared from the earth.
“Every year as a tradition they would hold the festival of the stallions. A week of festivities and celebration. At the end of the festivities, they held a spectacle, revered for both a test of endurance and horsemanship.
“It was also a celebration of their lust for life. Perhaps over one thousand horsemen would take part, riding along a straight course and flanked by crowds that came to watch. The horsemen would ride at blistering pace, and at either end drink a jug of ale. The race would last perhaps a day or more.
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