The Alabaster Throne (The Fall of Atlantis Book 1)

by Wilson Harp

  “Hail Prince Taldirun!”

  The cry went up from every soldier and guardsman at the fortress. Servants hurried to finish the supplies, and the spearmen who would fight the next day formed a column as Tal entered the yard.

  “Are we ready?” Tal asked Meleus.

  “We are, my prince.”

  Tal climbed into the chariot and stepped up onto the high platform. Here was where he would stand during the charge in battle. From here, he could thrust his spear and throw his javelins. Meleus would stand below him, on the floor of the chariot, and drive the horses. Antin would be on the platform once the charge finished, and would use his bow to discourage pursuit as the chariot maneuvered for another charge.

  Tal took his spear from one of the guardsmen and rapped on the platform. Servants rushed forward and unhobbled the horses. Timieus snapped at one of the servants and shook his head. The stallion would be hard to control in the heat of battle, he enjoyed the fight, but Meleus was a very good driver.

  “Taldirun!”

  Tal looked down and saw Siande come toward him. She left in her wake a dozen young soldiers who sought to catch the eye of the girl. Tal felt his stomach tighten and his heart beat fast as she drew near. In just the last year, she had grown and the young graceful woman who approached with a slight smile was not the girl he had run through the streets with just a few years ago.

  “Good day to you, Siande. Come to see me off to battle?”

  “Yes, Prince Taldirun,” she said. She always called him Tal, but in front of so many of the common people, she would keep the proper respect for him.

  “What do you have behind your back?”

  She shrugged her shoulders and her smile found her eyes. “It’s a surprise I made for you.”

  “Let me see it.”

  “In my grandmother’s land, there’s a tradition where the young women make the men crowns of flowers to wear as they go to war. It’s to remind the men there is beauty that awaits them when they return. Will you wear this to remind yourself?”

  She revealed from behind her back a woven circlet of white and gold flowers. They were not the rare and exotic flowers which grew in the royal gardens, but the simple flowers which grew in the hills around Mestor.

  “Do you expect me to wear this in battle?”

  “Of course not. But on the way to battle. The next time you ride out, you’ll wear a crown of silver.”

  “Then place it on me, and I’ll wear it proudly.”

  Tal climbed down from the chariot and bent his head before Siande. She placed the flowers upon his head and started to step back. He took her arm and pulled her close and placed a kiss on her forehead. As he did so, a beam of the sun penetrated the clouds and fell upon his head wreathed in flowers.

  “A blessing for a blessing,” he said as he looked into her shocked eyes. “And a good omen. The gods approve of your gift to me.”

  Her cheeks flared red as she bowed before him. “Thank you, my prince.”

  He was shocked as she turned her back toward him and hurried from the yard.

  Tal climbed up onto the chariot to a great cheer from his men. The sun fought against the clouds and soon the whole yard was bathed in its golden light.

  “The gods have given their blessing, let us begin,” he said.

  Once the way had been cleared, Meleus gave the horses a little rein and the chariot moved smoothly forward. The horses wished to run, but they soon settled into a stately walk which afforded ample time for the people of Mestor to lavish praise and blessings onto their new prince commander.

  The gates were lined with guardsmen and young women who had come to bid farewell to their husbands and lovers who marched off to war. Five hundred spearmen, their oiled leather armor and polished bronze spear tips shining in the spreading sunlight, marched behind their prince, their shouts of praise mingled with the crowd. Tal waved at every familiar face he saw and smiled at all the others. The people of Mestor loved him, and he loved all of its citizens.

  Once clear of the gates, Meleus allowed the horses to run. Tal stepped down into the chariot and looked behind him. Five other chariots followed as the column of spearmen fell behind. Praset would bring the remaining chariots, twelve in all, to the encampment in a few hours.

  “Are you going to wear those flowers all the way to the field?” Meleus asked.

  “Don’t you have the horses to tend to?” Tal asked. “And I’ll wear the flowers as long as I like.”

  “Your mother would have heard by now. I’m guessing the servants will walk even lighter around her today.”

  “Siande is a friend of mine, and of no threat to my affection. Besides, it would mean nothing to Mestor even if I were taken with her. When Olatic takes the throne, I will be far removed from sight. He will send me as an administrator or envoy in some far off place.”

  “He may keep you on as a general. Praset can’t live forever, and Olatic could do worse than having you here.”

  “Too many problems. I love my brother and he loves me, but any rivalry which might develop would weaken Mestor. No, I think I’ll start speaking to father about joining some trade missions and seeing the world a bit. Would you like that, Meleus?”

  “You know I would. I’ve long desired to see the lands Tumat taught us about. And I think Siande might want to come as well.”

  “If she does, then mother will worry every day! That might be the best idea you’ve ever had, my friend.”

  An hour outside of the city, after the farms had given way to wilderness, they came upon a small camp. A few soldiers guarded the supplies and servants had set up a place for Tal and the others to change out of their armor and rest before continuing to the main encampment.

  Tal shrugged off the breastplate and unbuckled the leather harness he wore underneath. He was amazed the heavy armor did not cause him weariness even after an hour. One of his concerns for after the battle was to race back to Mestor with news of his victory. If the battle went as planned, he would be able to make it back in four hours and the feast would start.

  He would be expected to wear his armor into the city, to show his power, even after he had worn it through the battle. But he would shed it after the battle and stop again at this encampment to re-don it.

  After the servants had stored his armor and spears, and he and the others in the chariots had refreshed themselves with food and drink, they remounted and continued on to the site of the battle. The valley of Kerosh was a place of traditional battle between Mestor and Azaes.

  A boundary stone set by Atlas himself to separate the land between his two brothers had gone missing long ago. Each kingdom claimed the other had stolen it from the mouth of the valley to wrongfully claim the entire valley for themselves.

  Tal really didn’t know which side had a better claim, but for hundreds of years, the valley itself had been the location of periodic battles between the two nations. There was only some pastureland and a grove of almonds in the valley, but it allowed both sides to keep their armies well trained and disciplined.

  Tomorrow, Azaes would field an army which would not be a serious challenge. They knew a new prince commander would take the field, and they would not risk the disapproval of the gods in denying one of royal blood his rightful glory.

  When Galius died on that very field, Azaes suffered two years of drought, and the king’s oldest daughter fell off a high wall to her death. The gods had not been happy at what had occurred.

  “Thinking about him again?” Meleus asked.

  “Yes. But not directly. I was thinking of what we would face tomorrow. I wonder how many men they will bring.”

  “Enough so it isn’t an insult, not so many as to take a risk.”

  “True enough, but all battle is a risk.”

  “Then why the bowmen during the charge? What not hold them until the spearmen engage?”

  “It’s the charge which wins the battle,” Tal said. “Maybe not the first charge, but whichever commander can get his chariots regro
uped for a second charge always wins. If the bowmen can stop some of their chariots, or even slow them down so our charge can be more effective, then there will be no need to try and gather for a second charge. The battle will be assured by the time the spearmen reach the lines.”

  “Still, with five hundred spearmen, you will sweep them from the field. Fifty bowmen may leave no chariots left by the time you get there, and with twelve chariots in your line, even if the bowmen are held back, you will still devastate them.”

  “I hope you’re right. I want to be done with the battle and on my way to report to my father before the sun starts to sink.”

  “Has there ever been an army as large as this in the valley?”

  “Praset says he has seen thousands on each side at times.”

  “Thousands? That had to be a sight to see. What do you suppose is the largest army that can be gathered?” Meleus asked.

  “Mestor could rally about five thousand soldiers and another eight thousand conscripts if needed.”

  “That’s more than the entire city, women included.”

  “Not quite, but it would empty all of our cities and farms.”

  “I couldn’t imagine how many people that would be. They would cover the land.”

  “I’ve heard High King Corest once fielded an army of twelve thousand. The nations of the inner sea raised an army of thousands, and he sent a fleet of four hundred ships to confront them.”

  “There aren’t that many fighting men in all of Atlantis, are there?”

  Tal shrugged. “I think there might be. Although that many would be tight packed on four hundred ships, when you think of all of their arms and armor.”

  Soon they arrived at the entrance to the valley. Two hills had wooden platforms and defenses constructed on top where the enemy could be seen before the start of the battle. Tents were set up behind the hills, screened from the enemy.

  Tal’s royal tent had been set up near the center of the camp near Praset’s and the other nobles who would ride with him. It was a great feat to convince so many nobles to join him in his debut battle. It went far to show how respected and admired the king, and Tal, were to the people of Mestor that so many would send their valuable chariots into a battle led by an unproven commander. True, Praset would be there, but if the houses wanted to show their disapproval or mistrust, they would have deferred the request to join.

  Tal made a cursory tour of the camp and made sure all was well. Those who had been put in charge were capable and competent. He looked out on the field and discussed with his scouts the condition of the ground. When they told him there had been no serious rain, he relaxed a little. He was concerned some of the chariots might have their thin wheels cut into the wet soil and become stuck. His chariot was built with very wide wheels, a technique that Olatic had brought back from one of his trading missions to a barbarian land, but many of the nobles still used the narrow wheels because it was less weight for the horses.

  Tal and Meleus found Antin, the old bowman Tal assigned to his chariot, and they settled near the central cooking fire to eat and drink until darkness shrouded the land. The serenes and camp followers were kept out of the camp that night by Tal’s order. They would be allowed in once the battle was over, but for tonight, he wanted his men rested and prepared for battle.

  Sleep came to him in a rush, and before his mind had a chance to worry about any detail he might have forgotten, he found himself beyond the veil of the waking world and in the world of dreams.

  Chapter 6

  Tal opened his eyes and looked up at the towering trees. He was in a dream and he knew which dream it was. He thought about this place often, and he wondered if he had been visited by a spirit or even one of the gods. If he had, they had lost interest in him, although he still felt blessed for their momentary attention.

  He didn’t stand, he simply moved from being on his back to walking through the trees. He walked for hours, it seemed, as he sought any landmark, any indication of where he should go. The more he wandered, the more he realized he wanted to meet the man who lived here. When he was younger, Tal often thought the man came to comfort him over Galius’ death, but as he grew older, he thought truth was the real message of the dream. Not that he hadn’t been comforted, he had, but he believed the comfort was secondary to the instruction.

  “Maybe I’m wrong,” he thought. “Maybe it was about death. Maybe the man came to tell me plainly that Galius would die, and now he has brought me here the night before my own battle to foretell my death.”

  “No,” the man said. “It’s not your death.”

  The man approached Tal from straight ahead, and yet Tal did not see him before he heard his words.

  “Why have you not come to me before?” Tal asked. “I have sought you in my dreams before, but you would not appear.”

  “Did you seek me?” the man asked. “Or were you curious? Did you wish to catch a glimpse of me again, like how you looked for the fox the one time you saw him in the orchard?”

  Tal shook his head. “I’d forgotten. I know I saw the fox, even though everyone said a fox couldn’t get into the inner gardens.”

  “You left eggs out for him so you could see him again. But he never appeared.”

  “No, he never did.”

  “Did you want to see him to see him, or to prove to others you were telling the truth?”

  “A little of both, I think. Although by the end, it was to prove I wasn’t lying.”

  “So why did you want to see me again? You haven’t told anyone about me except your father, and he didn’t doubt you.”

  “No, but I doubted myself. More each day.”

  “You wanted to make sure I was real.”

  “I think so. But I have dreamed of this place again, and you were never here.”

  “Yes. But you simply dreamed of it. You weren’t in this dream. Listen for a minute. What do you hear?”

  Tal and the man stopped their walk and Tal just listened. There was no sound. No wind, no animals, not even the dull buzz of insects which seem to fill a forest.

  “What is this place?” Tal asked. “When I have dreamed of this, it was never like this. It wasn’t still and perfect.”

  “You are not in your own dream. You are in a place of my making. I will walk here sometimes and grieve for what I see.”

  “What do you see?”

  “Dishonesty, pride, hate, and other ways men treat each other.”

  “That’s the way of the world.”

  The man nodded and lifted his face upward. “That it is. But I have not brought you here to listen to the groans of the world, I brought you here to continue your lessons.”

  “My lessons?”

  “The first time we met, I instructed you about truth. You’ve made mistakes along the way, but you’ve done well in most situations. I’m proud of you for that. But now, I tell you to let glory pass you by.”

  “But I am a prince of Atlantis. Glory is mine, for I’ve been blessed by the gods.”

  The man turned to Tal and locked eyes with him.

  “The flowers in the fields are clothed in finer attire than those you were born in, the waves of the ocean crowned with foam are more regal than the men who sit on thrones, and the stars march in more rigid order across the night sky than any king can command his men on the field of battle. Any glory you find is but a pale reflection of the glory lay strewn about you in casual manner by your creator. What glory is yours?”

  Tal cowered as the man spoke. Always before the words comforted and soothed him. Now the man was angry, and Tal knew the anger had just been glimpsed. A deep pool of rage dwelled in the man, and Tal feared a single drop of that rage would fall from the man’s lip and consume him and the forest together.

  As quick as the fear overwhelmed Tal, it was gone.

  “Rise, young Prince of Atlantis. Gain your feet again. You do have glory, but given to you, not claimed. But even the glory given, even that which you believe is your due, is but a loaned, ta
rnished coin compared to the glory that exists. Don’t be greedy over such meager gifts, but share them with those who have even less. A man who shares glory attracts it back to him in greater measure.”

  “But then he should share the greater measure again, leaving him with just the crumbs to feed himself with.”

  “Meager crumbs indeed, but enough to keep him for another day. Glory will come to you, but store it up at your own peril. The lessons of truth so far were practice with dull spears in the yards. Mistakes could wound you and bring you to harm. The lessons of glory are on the field. The temptation to accept as much as offered is the thrust of a sharpened spear and can kill.”

  “So what am I to do? Lower myself? It would bring dishonor and shame to my family. The people would curse a prince who did not seek glory, for their glory resides in him.”

  “Do not lower yourself, but don’t climb above your worth. Always look with clear eyes at how the glory was achieved. Acclaim others with you to share in the glory. Rise others up and you will see the rewards.”

  “And truth?”

  “The lessons of truth remain. And if you follow truth, you will find all the glory you need, for you are a true prince of Atlantis.”

  Tal felt himself fade. He knew he would wake soon.

  “When will I see you again?”

  “Do you desire my presence that much?”

  “Yes! How can I come back?”

  “When you need me, seek me out. I will answer.”

  Tal sat up in his bed. The sounds of the pre-dawn shuffle of the camp were in stark contrast to the placid quiet of his dream. His nose wrinkled as the smell of the smoke told him it was near dawn and the camp fires were being prepared for breakfast. His senses were so at peace in his dream that waking caused him to feel as if he were dumped into a freezing lake from the warm blankets of his bed.

  He staggered to his feet and found one of the tent poles to steady himself.

  “My prince?” Meleus said from the other side of the tent. “Why are you awake? Has something happened?”