by Wilson Harp
Tal looked at his mother. She gave him a triumphant smile and twisted her lips like she did when she punished him as a child.
Corest continued. “Since there is no other blood which can weigh in this judgement, and the only witness to what the Prophet said is dead, then the verdict will be clear. So I ask you once more, will you step away from this claim?”
“I can swear more blood,” said Tal.
“What?”
“I can swear on more blood. There is another who has the blood of Mestor in him.”
Tal motioned to Jubaas with his hand. He heard the scout leave the tent as the High King watched on.
“I was informed both of Fa’amuil’s brothers died without children. And the rest of your family is dead.”
Tal heard several people enter the tent and he watched the blood drain from his mother’s face.
“My king,” Tal said. “Allow me to introduce Janu, the grandson of King Fa’amuil through his daughter Princess Mira.”
Siande stepped forward and placed Janu on the ground. He faced the High King and smiled and then bowed deeply.
“No!” said Jala. “The child has none of Fa’amuil’s blood, he comes from his daughter, not his son.”
Corest grabbed Jala by the face and twisted her to her knees. “That is the second time you have forgotten yourself in my court.”
He slapped her hard across the face and she sprawled to the ground. “Stand beside me before I decide to send you from my presence.”
Jala wiped the blood from her lips as she found her place beside the throne.
“The law is very clear,” Corest said. “The blood of a king weighs half as much in his daughter as in his son. And in her daughter, there is no weight of blood. But in her son, there is half the weight of her own blood.”
He looked at Jala. “The same weight a king’s son’s mother carries.”
Jala met Tal’s eyes and she frowned. Tal realized he wasn’t smiling at her. He knew she would have gloated had she been in his place. She would have taken joy in seeing her enemy humiliated. But Tal felt sorry for her. She traded a loving, gentle husband for a man who saw everything as a way to gain or lose power.
“If it will come down to a war, then the gods must decide,” said Corest at last. “I will need to study the law and consider what can be done. On one count, you have already seen a good omen, Prince Taldirun. The clouds have prevented a coronation before we could have this meeting. Now I am loath to place the crown on either head until I have a clear answer.”
Corest looked beyond Tal and smiled. “And we have a few guests here who I have yet to meet. I have already met Janu, whose blood is pledged to the veracity of the story Prince Taldirun offered. Who is the young woman who brought him in? With her hair as dark as a barbarian’s but dressed as a refined noblewoman, it can only be Siande, Guard Captain Praset’s daughter.”
Jala’s jaw tightened and Tal knew his mother wanted to say something. There was silence, though, and Tal glanced at Siande. She stood still with her mouth slightly open.
“You are correct,” said Tal. “She is to be my consort when I become king.”
Corest let his eyes linger on Siande for a moment. “A fine choice.”
“And those who escorted you in, Prince Taldirun, who are they?”
Tal motioned for Jubaas and Lortum to address the court.
“Your majesty, I am Lortum, a soldier of Mestor.”
Corest laughed. “Ah, the charioteer who just drove across the field and handed Prince Taldirun his chariot. I would be careful around Praset, young man, he wants to skin you and hang your pelt on his wall like the wolves.”
Corest turned his gaze to Jubaas. “And who are you, young man.”
“I am Jubaas. A man of Mestor.”
Corest sat up tall and angled his face so he was looking down his nose at the scout. “You are a man, well beyond your years. Firm in your voice and your eyes are deep. Welcome to my court, Jubaas of Mestor. Prince Taldirun has chosen his representatives well.”
The High King turned his attention back to Tal. “Today has gone better for you than I would have guessed. You are foolish to reject the offer I make you, but consider it and if it seems a wiser course after you’ve had some time, send a message to me and we will make arrangements. If you persist on your plans, you will face a much harder life. But as it is the right of your bloodline to choose a harder life if you so wish, I will leave your fates to the gods. Go and think on these things, Prince Taldirun. I will go and consider how to resolve this situation.”
Tal bowed low to the High King and backed out of the tent. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light and turned to see his companions gathered close behind him.
“We have our answer for now,” he said. “Let’s go and inform the camp.”
The small group was met by crowds who dared not go past the edges of the camp lest they draw the attention and ire of the stern guards who kept careful watch over the tent and its most majestic guest.
“Tell them we will stay until the city is open to us and I am crowned king.”
Lortum left but Tal stopped Jubaas. “Would you take Janu to your mother? I’m sure she and your sisters miss him.”
Jubaas glanced at Siande.
“Of course, Tal.” He took Janu from SIande’s arms. “Let’s go find you something to eat and someone to play with you.”
Tal and Siande walked back to their tent in silence. News of the meeting had spread through the camp and the fearful silence was replaced with the whispers of worry. They hoped, as did Tal, the battle would have been enough for the High King to have given his blessing to Tal.
“What will you do?” asked Siande when they were inside the tent. “Will you take his offer?”
“It’s tempting. It’s a good offer. And we have said we wanted to see the inner sea one day. We could take Meleus, you know how he would love that.”
Siande smiled. “Yes, I think he believed all of the stories which Tumat told us.”
“Didn’t you?”
“Some, but he knew we would never be able to tell him he was wrong.”
Tal shrugged. “Maybe he told you different stories than he did us, but what he told seemed pretty real to me.”
“An animal three stories high? One bigger than a house? It was all made up.”
“Maybe, but it would still be worth it to go see,” said Tal.
“Do you want to go see it?”
“Yes, but as king, not as an exile.”
“If you don’t wish it, why do you consider it?” Siande asked.
“Because of you. High King Corest was right, my life would be much easier away from here. If I’m in a barbarian land, my mother might forget about me and we could be at ease. In Mestor, we would always have to worry.”
“I’ll go with you wherever you choose, but I know you, and you would always feel defeated if you gave up the throne.”
Tal closed his eyes and turned from Siande. “Yes. I am embarrassed to admit it, but this is my chance of glory, it is my birthright and I should take it. I’m more capable than Bator and I believe I love Mestor. Bator would just use it for his own sake, and take glory without giving it back to those who deserve it. I would see Mestor the grandest of the kingdoms of Atlantis, it’s people happy and prosperous.”
“Then do it. Turn down the easy life and take your destiny. Don’t be ashamed of the glory which comes from leading your people. Bator will demand glory, he will demand gifts and accolades. You will give glory, and you will receive the gifts and accolades, and from that will you gain more glory. This is yours, my prince, and you should take it. Don’t let another have your birthright, Tal.”
Tal smiled at her. “I won’t let this go.”
A trumpet blast announced the departure of the High King and his retinue. Tal and Siande made their way through the crowds who had gathered at the edge of the camp to watch High King Corest on his throne as he headed back toward Mestor. High Queen Jala walked with three
of her serving women behind the throne. Some in the camp held their young children up so they could see. Tal understood their desire, it was unlikely a High King would come to Mestor again until another King was crowned. He was determined those children being held up would hold their children or grandchildren to see the next High King.
Once the High King and his retinue had moved onto the road, the guards left their posts and marched into ordered ranks. They trailed the royal couple close enough so they could defend against any attack, but far enough back so the king would be the focus of the entry into the city.
“How did it go?” Daelcor asked as he slipped up beside Tal.
“As expected. I’ll still need to face Bator again. I hope he will come to his senses and give up his claim. If he is offered the same thing I was offered, he might take it.”
“I don’t know if your mother would allow it, and I’m positive Bator would need her to make any major decision.”
“Maybe she can go to the inner sea with him,” said Siande. “And take my father as well. That would solve most of our problems.”
Tal laughed. “That it would. Maybe I’ll suggest it the next time I have an audience.”
The three talked and laughed as the servants took down the giant tent, loaded it onto the wagons, and headed for the city. The sun hung just over the western hills when there was a stir in the camp.
“My prince,” a bowman who had fought in the battle ran up to Tal. “A rider comes from the north.”
“This could be an answer,” said Tal. He hurried after the bowman with Siande and Daelcor close behind.
“Prince Taldirun,” the rider said. He had ridden hard and was out of breath. “I have a message for you from Lord Indaric.”
“What does he have to say? An answer?”
“Indeed, my lord. Two hundred spearmen prepare to march. They will be here in three days. They bring with them four hundred heavy spear. Two chariots will be sent several days later. Lord Indaric, Lord Germic, and Lord Huston are pleased to provide you with the forces you need to take the throne.”
“Take your rest and then return with my great thanks,” said Tal. Several of the bowmen who had come to hear let up a cheer at the words and led the messenger to their camp to drink to their good fortune.
“We need to have a feast tonight,” Tal said. More cheers went up and word spread the prince had called for a celebration.
“I just heard,” Lortum said as he found Tal. “Men and spears. Any chariots?”
“Two,” Tal said.
“Excellent, with three chariots, we can do a lot.”
“We can. I’ll command the chariot you brought me, and you and Yelsit can command the spears.”
Lortum bowed. “At your command, my lord. But I request to drive the chariot around the city once you are crowned.”
Tal slapped the soldier on the arm. “You shall be my driver, I promise.”
The smell of roast mutton, deer and wild bull filled the air of the camp. Flutes and drums played well into the night and all of the women of the camp danced until they were exhausted.
Tal and Siande laid out in the field where the High King’s tent had been and stared up at the sky. The moon struggled to break through and a soft glow shone down on the world.
“If the message had come sooner, it might have been different today,” said Siande. “If he knew Indaric and the others supported you, he might have decided to put his support behind you.”
“I think he will know soon enough,” Tal said. “He may already.”
He pointed to the city walls. “See? There are more men than usual on watch. They can hear our party and we cooked so much meat, they can probably smell it all the way over there. They know we feast and celebrate tonight, and there is only one reason why we would do so.”
“When do you expect an answer?”
“Tomorrow maybe. No more than two days. Unless Bator has secured aid himself, I have the advantage. He dares not attempt to take the field yet, not until he sees who will come to our rescue. Your father will tell him it’s too risky.”
“And what if he does get aid?” Siande asked. “We have cut off the gates, but we can do nothing about the docks. If he sent ships out immediately…”
“They would still be on the way. These storms would keep the sails furled and the clouds would keep them close to shore. Maybe they have reached places that can send aid, but if they have, Bator doesn’t know it’s coming yet.”
Siande rolled onto her side and looked at Tal. “It will be over soon,” she said.
He smiled at her and she leaned down and kissed him.
“Come on, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow you can start planning for your allies to arrive.”
Tal and Siande held hands as they meandered back to their tent. They passed revelers deep in their cups, young lovers who embraced in the shadows, and soldiers who kept watch over the camp. They came to Shala’s tent and looked in. Janu was asleep, snuggled between Lema and Fera.
“Let him sleep,” Tal whispered. “We can get him in the morning.”
The sounds of birds and the smell of damp smoke woke Tal in the morning. He crawled out of his blankets and looked out from his tent. The sky was bright, and it was still early morning. Tal stepped out and looked up. Clouds still covered the sky, but they were thin and moved fast to the west. Little breaks appeared and his heart soared. Although the clouds had been a good omen for him and had prevented Bator from taking the throne, Tal longed to see the sun again.
Few moved around the camp, and remnants of the celebration were everywhere. Tal’s head pounded, he had drunk too much wine though he knew better. He found a pitcher of water and poured it over him. His head cleared a little and the pounding quieted.
He headed over to the spearmen’s camp to see how his men had fared. The celebration seemed to have claimed more than the battle did. Several guards stood at their posts, but many of the soldiers just lay where they had fallen. Some had made a valiant effort to find a tent, but many just lay on, around, or under the low tables the wine and mead had been set on.
Men groaned and shifted as he stepped through them. He found Yelsit asleep by one of the fires.
“Wake up,” Tal whispered to him. “We need to get to the field soon.”
The young soldier blinked his eyes and looked up at Tal.
“My prince,” he said as he tried to rise. “I.. I… am up. Is it morning already?” He blinked as he looked around.
“It is, and don’t worry, I’m not in much better shape. But we need to get a full day in, so wake yourself and then get your men in the field.”
“Of course, yes, I will at once, my lord.”
“Good. Now where is Lortum?”
“I don’t know. He was with me for a while, but then he headed off with others.”
“Okay, I’ll find him. Get some water and let it wash over you. Helps clear the head.”
He left Yelsit and moved through the camp looking for Lortum.
The sound of a horn from the city echoed in the morning. A few seconds later a second horn sounded, this one from Tal’s bowmen and soldiers who watched the gate. Tal’s mind focused all at once and he sprinted through the camp towards the road. Again the horn sounded and a sentry from the road came running.
“To arms, to arms!” he cried as he ran.
Tal called to the man. “What is it? What’s happening?”
“Chariots! Chariots from the city!”
Chapter 21
“To arms! To arms!” Tal shouted as he ran toward the road. “The enemy is upon us!”
Bator’cam had seen the celebrations the night before, so he knew aid was promised to Tal. Tal thought news the nobles had sided with him would cause his older brother to hesitate and carefully plan the next move. He was positive Praset wouldn’t let him act on impulse. And yet, chariots left the city in the early morning.
The camp was slow to awaken from its languid mood by the shouts of alarm. A few frantic soldiers hurri
ed to their camps and others were frozen in panic, but most still slept or pushed their dreams away slowly. Tal pushed his way through the small clumps of groggy people who got between him and the road. He stepped up on the stones which paved the way north from Mestor and looked toward the city.
Three chariots were at full charge as they reached the sentries who Tal had assigned to watch the north gate. The bowmen and spearmen scattered and jumped to the side of the road as the chariots barreled through. Some were not quick enough, though, and Tal saw perhaps a dozen be crushed between the churning hooves of the horses and the heavy wheels of the chariots. Other men, who had jumped clear, fell as bowmen in the chariots shot them as the chariots passed by.
“Prepare the chariot,” Tal shouted to the camp.
He heard his command echoed by any soldier who heard. Bator’s chariots did not slow on the road after they had scattered the sentries. Tal thought they would either turn back to the city or head into the field to prepare for battle, but instead they continued on the road. He looked back at the gate in wonder. There were no ranks of spearmen, no rows of bowmen. No other troops left the city.
The sound of hooves and wooden wheels on stone rumbled louder and Tal sprinted back to the camp.
“Wake the men,” he shouted. “Officers, get your men up and armed.”
Tal raced to his tent. Siande stepped out as he arrived at a full run.
“What’s happened?” she asked.
“An attack. Now. This very minute. Go get Janu and take him into the thick trees. Do not go on the road.”
He turned from her and dashed to the spearmen camp. When he arrived, Yelsit had most of the men awake and on their feet. About half had their spears and shields, although most showed signs of fatigue and were disoriented.
“Form ranks,” Tal said. “When you have twenty, send them to the field to form up. Don’t send them without twenty.”
“Yes, my lord,” the young soldier responded.