by Wilson Harp
Tal turned and started for the chariot when he heard the thunder of the chariots on the road fade. He ran toward the field and saw the flash of the horses and chariots through the trees. They were on the edge of the field, still at a full gallop, and headed straight toward where the bowmen had set up their camps.
Tal ran after them, but the horses were not reined at all, and galloped in a full charge. Tal saw the back of the chariots and gasped. They had removed the high platform the chariot commander would fight from. That gave enough room for four bowmen to stand and shoot. They fired constantly at any man they could see. The yells of the wounded were barely heard over the sound of the chariots, but Tal knew they would find their marks more often than not at close range.
Other soldiers joined him in his mad dash to catch up with the enemy. Tal realized why there were no spearmen or bowmen at the gates, Bator wasn’t going to take the field, he just came to kill Tal’s bowmen.
Tal reached the end of the sparse trees and saw the chariots in the camps of the bowmen. Some of the farmers and woodmen had cloth tents, but most had low crude, structures made of wood they slept under when it rained.
The chariots had each taken a different path, and the horses and heavy carriages ran directly over the flimsy shelters of the bowmen. Some contained sleeping men, who would never awaken. Some had slept on the ground under the sky, and if they had the ill fortune to be in the path of destruction, they too were trampled and ground into the mud.
A few had heard the cries of alarm and were armed when the chariots crashed in among them. Three bowmen stood near some brush away from the tents out into the field and fired at the chariots. Though they fired at the backs of the bowmen in the chariots, they were a good distance away. But Tal saw Jubaas and Toli worked two of the bows, so he had hope maybe they could hit a few of the enemy and slow the slaughter. When the chariots reached the end of the camps, the drivers turned them back into the camps from the other direction.
“Anyone with a spear, follow me,” yelled Tal. He realized as he ran toward the chariots he did not have a spear himself, so he grabbed a bow from the ground as he ran. He had no idea whose it was or why it was laying on the ground, he just wanted any weapon in his hand if he got close to the chariots.
The bowmen in the far chariot saw the men near the brush and fired at them. Tal saw all three men fall to the ground and he grabbed a bundle of arrows which had fallen next to the body of a bowman.
The chariots continued to crush and overrun both shelters and men alike. The screams of the men now were louder than the thunder of the horses and chariots, and Tal knew he would lose many of his men before the day was out. One of the chariots turned toward him and his spearmen. He fired at the men in the back, but his shot went high. The horses wouldn’t be stopped with a single arrow, and they provided effective cover for the men they pulled.
He fired again and this time skimmed the arrow across the top of one of the horses’ head. The chariot drove right at him and he knew it traveled faster than most realized. He dove to the side along with several of the spearmen with him. The high whistle of an arrow whipped by his ear as he hit the ground and he rolled away as another arrow thudded into the mud where he had landed.
Five of his spearmen had tried valiantly to take down the charging horses, but they were broken and crushed in the mud. He glanced over to the brush where Jubaas and Toli were, and saw two men on their feet. Jubaas was one, and he fired into the chariot nearest him. And he hit his mark. The man in the chariot jerked back and grabbed the side of the chariot.
It was Bator. Jubaas’ arrow had found Bator’s chest, but he wore a heavy bronze breastplate, and the arrow bounced off.
The chariots sped toward the road, their bloody morning over. Bator had killed dozens and wounded many dozens more with his attack and he now fled back to the city. Tal was furious and ran after the chariots on foot. He held his bow and a single arrow which he managed to keep as he threw himself on the ground.
The chariots were faster than he, and well out of range for his bow, but he ran anyway. The first chariot reached the road and turned to the city and Tal felt his heart sink. As the second chariot reached the road, though, Tal saw Lortum and his chariot collide with it at full speed.
Tal didn’t think he could run harder in the thick mud, but he pushed himself forward. The third chariot, the one which carried Bator, was on the steep slope to the road when its horses reared back to keep from hitting Lortum’s carriage above them.
Lortum jumped from his high platform into the carriage of the second chariot. He had a short spear and set about killing the bowmen.
Bator and his carriage fired on Lortum’s chariot, but his driver and bowman stooped below the high sides of the carriage.
Tal saw Bator and felt sorrow. He had lost his father, three brothers, and both of his sisters because of his mother and her desperate desire to set Bator on the throne. She had tried to kill him, as well, and it angered her that he had avoided her plans. But was it Bator’s fault as well? He felt mercy well up in him and knew what he had to do.
He placed the arrow on the bowstring and pulled it to his ear. His brother faced away from him, his breastplate wouldn’t be of help from this angle. Just as Galius’ breastplate did nothing to stop the arrow launched by Brotin all those years ago.
Tal loosed the arrow in sorrow. He watched it fly straight and true, and his own heart felt the wound as the arrow sank deep into Bator’s back.
Tal knew what he had to do. He had to have mercy on the people of Mestor. He had to remove the threat of High Queen Jala and her puppet king. He had to take the life of his last brother to save his kingdom.
Tal fell to his knees and vomited. The clash of battle and the sounds of men shouting and dying faded away as he cried on the field of battle.
“Tal?” asked Daelcor. “Are you wounded?”
Tal shook his head. “No, no wound. It’s just over. I ended it.”
“What do you mean?”
Tal reached up and Daelcor helped him to his feet. “Come and see.”
They trudged over to the tangled mess of the chariots. Two of the bowmen who had been in Bator’s chariot were on their knees in front of Lortum. He saw Tal and motioned to him.
“Come,” he called.
Tal nodded to him and kept his pace.
Daelcor kept quiet, for he knew what had happened.
“There,” said Tal as they approached. He pointed at a body which lay in the mud. The bronze breastplate splatted with filth, the helmet half off the man’s head. An arrow had found the middle of his back.
Daelcor made a sign against curses and knelt by the fallen man. He broke the shaft of the arrow and rolled him onto his back. Bator’s dead eyes stared up at the sky. Tal knelt beside his brother and lowered his eyelids. The sun broke through the clouds and shone on Tal. It pushed the clouds further apart until the whole field was covered in its golden glow.
“Just like the day of your battle,” Lortum said.
“A good omen,” added Daelcor.
Tal just stared at his brother.
“I’ll have a wagon brought,” said Lortum. “And we will get a guard ready for escort.”
“No escort,” said Tal. “I’ll walk to the city alone. Bring a small cart, one big enough for Prince Bator’cam. I will return him to Mestor.”
Lortum motioned for his prisoners to rise.
“Wait,” said Tal. He looked at the two bowmen. “Did you serve Mestor today?”
They both nodded, fear drove any thought of deception from their face.
“Then you well serve it again today. You will be in my service soon, so I give you a task now. Run ahead to the city and tell them Prince Taldirun and Prince Bator’cam will arrive at the gate within the hour.”
Both men jumped to their feet and ran down the road. Lortum looked on with disapproval, but turned to the camp to find a cart.
“Your mother will choose them for sacrifices,” Daelcor said. “They won
’t serve you after this task.”
“Why should the High Queen of Atlas choose sacrifices in the Temple of Balket in Mestor? She has no authority here.”
Daelcor smiled. “You are going to make her very angry, not to mention High Priest Faldrir.”
“Bator’cam died in battle and Hondre requires no sacrifice to bury him. Since they are not demanded by Hondre, there will be no sacrifice.”
Daelcor smiled. “It will take some time to get used to you as king. I hope I don’t offend you.”
“I’m sure you will. But I’ll forgive you.”
Daelcor began his duty of blessing the dead. He started with Bator and moved to those Lortum had killed in the clash on the road.
Tal waited with his brother until Lortum returned with a cart pulled by a heavy ox. Siande had followed him.
“I’m so sorry, Tal. But not too sorry.”
“I know, Siande. It had to be done, and for the lives it saves, it is a joyous thing. But to kill one of my own brothers… I am Kinslayer, as I was named by my mother.”
She embraced him and held onto him. “Is it wise to go by yourself?”
“It is. There’s no reason to not approach my city openly and without guard. It will show the people I rule them, and show the guards I do not fear my own men. They will know, then, they have nothing to fear from me when I take the throne.”
“When do you think he will place the crown on your head?”
Tal looked up at the bright blue sky and pointed at the golden sun. I think he will see the gods are pleased and will summon me to the Palace tomorrow. Today, though, we bury my brother under the ocean.”
Lortum and Daelcor lifted Bator’s body into the cart. Tal took a spear and placed it alongside the dead prince as a sign he died in battle.
“When you hear the trumpet calls from the temple, you will know I have informed the High King and the city will be open to your return,” Tal told the others.
A small crowd had gathered near the cart and more from the camp wandered over to the mangled chariots. Word had spread Prince Taldirun had been victorious in battle, and had removed Prince Bator’cam’s claim to the Alabaster Throne.
Tal took the rope which was looped through the ring in the ear of the ox and walked forward. The animal was docile and careful and he stayed with Tal as the prince walked at a slow, measured pace.
He kept his eyes on the far walls of the city, and the gate which stood open at the end of the straight road. Soon he passed by the checkpoint where several of the survivors of the initial chariot charge tended their wounds and prayed for their dead companions. They stopped and watched Tal pass, but none tried to join his solitary procession.
Ten minutes later he approached the gate where two guardsmen stood with their spears crossed. An older officer, Giron, stood in front of them.
“What business do you have with Mestor?” he asked in a somber voice.
“I bring back a member of the house of King Fa’amuil, fallen on the field of battle. Prince Bator’cam returns wrapped in the splendor of Hondre’s presence.”
“We have heard the news,” said Giron. “The way to the temple is clear.”
The guards raised their spears to allow Tal and his cart to pass. The streets of Mestor were lined with small pockets of people, they remained silent and still as Tal passed them. He thought of what it must have been like for the people of the city. For the entire royal family, save the queen and two of the princes, to be killed along with the High Queen and her daughter would have been a shock enough. But to have those two princes then wage war just outside the city within a week of the blood soaked day must have been unbearable.
And now they see both princes together, one having slain the other. Word in the city was Tal was to blame for all of the trouble, and yet now they were faced with him ruling. How was he to earn their trust?
Tal exhaled and cleared his mind of that problem. He approached the Palace gate and entered into the large square in front of the Palace. There stood Praset and High Queen Jala. She wore a black veil and was held up by two of her maidservants.
“High Queen Jala, I return your son to you,” Tal said.
Tal’s mother wailed and threw herself on the ground. Her sorrow rang out through the city. It was the first time Tal had ever seen his mother grieve so, though he was skeptical it was for the loss of Bator himself. She had lost power, and could not find a way to get it back, and it had broken her.
High Priest Faldrir leaned on his staff as he watched Bator’s body be removed from the cart and placed on a bier. He looked up at Tal and his eyes narrowed and his lips twisted. The priest of Balket had never cared for Tal; a cold look and a sharp word of greeting was all he had ever offered the impious son of Fa’amuil. But he smiled and warmly greeted Bator whenever their paths crossed. Now the old priest looked at Tal with contempt and open disgust. Tal worried how he would handle this when he took the throne.
“Where are the sacrifices from the field of battle?” Faldrir asked Tal.
“Prince Bator’cam died in battle, he belongs to the realm of Hondre. Hondre demands no sacrifices for his life, his own blood will carry him to his reward.”
“Balket will still want sacrifices.”
“Then Balket should have protected him better.”
Faldrir glared at Tal and then motioned the priests to follow him to the temple where Bator’s body would be washed and blessed.
High King Corest embraced his queen as the priest carried her son’s body up the narrow steps to the Temple. He met Tal’s eyes as he comforted his new wife.
“We will speak later,” he said to Tal. “I will meet you in your former rooms.”
“I will remain in the square until my men arrive in the city,” Tal said.
Corest nodded as he guided Jala to the stairs. “After they arrive, we will meet in your rooms.”
Tal had a servant bring him a stool and sat by the Palace gate. He ordered the royal guardsmen, men he knew and trusted, to close the gate. He wanted to be left alone as he absorbed what had happened. The flames of Balket surged, and Tal was sure some of the slaves held by Faldrir fed the fires to appease Balket. The horn sounded from the top of the temple to let the people know the ritual was finished, and the prince had received his final blessing.
Tal knew his men would arrive soon, so he told the guards to open the gate after he was gone. He walked slowly up the path to the royal apartments and stared up at the bright blue sky. He wandered through the gardens and around the fruit trees. He found himself at the fountain in the middle of the Queen’s garden. This was where he learned under Tumat. This very spot was the first place he touched Siande.
Tal heard the horns at the north gate and knew his men had reached the city. Loud cheers and shouts went up through the city as the victors were welcomed by the people. Tal went to his apartments. His old apartments, he realized. After he sat on the throne, he would be in his father’s house.
He opened the door and gagged at the smell of something rotted. He turned away to get fresh air and saw the High King approach with two of his personal guards.
“Are you ill, Taldirun?”
“No. Something foul in my rooms,” he said.
The High King looked curious as Tal took a deep breath and held it. He walked in and looked around.
“There,” Corest said. Tal looked back and saw he held a cloth over his mouth and nose. He pointed at a table off to the side.
The tray Pitros had offered him on the morning of the attack sat untouched. The fruit and bread had rotted and spoiled. Around them lay a thick blanket of bugs and three dead, bloated mice.
“Come,” said Corest. “We’ll talk elsewhere.”
Tal followed him out and led him up onto the roof.
“Poisoned,’ the High King said. “Do you know who would have done this?”
“Yes,” said Tal. “But I think the threat has passed.”
Pitros would leave with the High King and Queen, and he was merely the
servant anyway. Tal couldn’t name the assassin. Not without upsetting her husband.
“This threat may be over,” Corest said. “But you will find you have many enemies before your life is over. Best to rid yourself of them as quickly as possible, if you can.”
“Thank you for your words of wisdom, your majesty.”
“You have ended the threat Bator’cam made to your claim to the throne, but the priests of Balket oppose you. This wouldn’t be the first time the priests have opposed a king, but they will make life difficult for you. You could, of course, have Janu crowned in your place. I would grant you my blessing to act in his stead until he reaches an age where he can rule on his own. That would placate the priests and others who oppose your reign.”
“I will take the throne and rule in my own name,” said Tal.
Corest frowned and scratched his beard. “You are worthy of the throne. We will set the ceremony for an hour before noon tomorrow as long as the sky remains clear. This is an ancient ceremony and you will need to be cleansed and blessed before you appear. The ritual itself is sacred and cannot be halted once it begins. And the details must not be revealed.”
“I understand,” said Tal.
Corest smiled and nodded at the young prince before he left Tal alone on his roof.
Tal sat and watched the city from where he was. He heard music and saw the streets full of people. Siande found him about an hour later and they strolled through the parks and gardens. They didn’t speak much. They didn’t need to.
Chapter 22
Tal knew where he was before he even recognized the trees. He took one breath and felt at peace, a calmness washed over him and the sharpness of his worries and concerns faded and dulled. He walked close to a tree and looked at it. The bark was perfect and the tree seemed to hum. He put his hand on the trunk and smiled. It seemed like the tree had a heartbeat, a gentle pulse which made Tal aware of the life within it.
He sensed the man behind him, and knew the man watched.
“Don’t let me disturb you. It’s good to see you connect with living things. You’ve seen so much death recently, you need to be reminded that life surrounds you.”