by CS Sealey
ABOUT EQUILIBRIUM: EPISODE 6
When all seems lost for Ronnesia, a small but fearless band of rebels arises.
The Ayons have been victorious. Queen Sorcha has fled Te'Roek, leaving the city under the occupation of the Ayons, led by the new consul Lord General Archis Varren.
But not all the citizens have bent the knee. A fragile resistance—led by Angora, Tiderius, and Rasmus—tirelessly tries to keep the citizens loyal to Queen Sorcha. However, even their combined power cannot stand up to the might of the new consul. Forced to look elsewhere for allies, their gaze falls upon infamous assassin Zoran Sable and his deadly arts. Even so, will it be enough to liberate the city?
At the end of an age, the ancient equilibrium threatens to fracture and break forever.
CONTENTS
ABOUT EQUILIBRIUM: EPISODE 6
MAPS
EPISODE SIX: 368 Third Era
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
EPILOGUE
ABOUT EQUILIBRIUM (THE COMPLETE EDITION)
ABOUT CS SEALEY
COPYRIGHT
EPISODE SIX
368 Third Era
CHAPTER 60
Though the Tarek Empire was not as old nor as vast as the Ronnesian Empire, it sustained a larger population. Almost every farm in the countryside had a wind- or water-powered mill, replacing the animal-powered grinders to process their grain faster and more efficiently. Laborers and hired hands were more plentiful and so the production rates of such farms were far beyond anything the Ronnesians could even contemplate.
The capital city, too, had its differences. The buildings of Milena were crafted by men who loved their work, often passing their trade down for generations. Almost every dwelling possessed a basement to store supplies, as winters in the Tarek Empire were harsh, and ground-floor walls were nearly always stone. The palace, where the royal family had lived for over three hundred years, was carved and decorated in the same style as the Te’Roek castle, except there was a certain life to this building that Queen Sorcha’s home lacked. There were children to be found in the series of buildings and gardens, as the king’s family was vast and ranged over three generations. Servants scurried about their duties and politicians wandered the corridors in small groups, discussing the issues of state with vigor.
After learning of the queen’s arrival, King Dallus had convened a military assembly to discuss the developments in Kirofirth. Despite how hastily they had gathered, the conference had lasted several days and the messengers had taken longer still to reach their designated outposts, villages and provinces. So, almost a month after the queen had fled Te’Roek, very little had been accomplished.
Emil Latrett strode quickly down a palace corridor and knocked upon the large carved doors at the end. There was a moment’s pause before a manservant opened the door from within and gazed at him. Emil drew himself up and straightened his robes.
“Master Emil Latrett to see Her Royal Majesty Queen Sorcha, His Royal Majesty King Dallus and His Highness Prince Korrosus.”
“Of course, sir,” the man replied, stepping aside. “They are expecting you.”
Emil bowed his head and entered the king’s audience chamber. It was a large room with a high, decorated ceiling and the long windows in the eastern wall were full of late morning sunshine. Emil approached Sorcha silently, not wishing to interrupt. With so many distractions, despite the dark situation which had driven her to Milena, Queen Sorcha was dealing with her flight from Te’Roek better than Emil had expected. King Dallus paced, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, lines creasing his brow. Prince Korrosus was sitting on the sofa opposite the queen with his leg raised on a couple of pillows. Though he had been walking with a cane for almost a week, the healers still insisted that he raise his leg to assist in the healing process.
“But despite their obvious strength,” Korrosus was saying, “there is always a weakness. We just have to find it.”
“They overran Te’Roek in a matter of hours!” King Dallus argued. “I see no weakness there!”
“Too true,” Sorcha said sadly. “With such great numbers behind him, I doubt even the combined forces of our two empires could stop Varren now.”
“Son, what do you know of this man?” the king asked. “Is he as formidable as that?”
“I know little of him personally. But since he became general, he has not lost a single battle. I would say he is the Ayons’ greatest strength.”
Emil coughed quietly, and the three turned, noticing him for the first time.
“Master Latrett!” Korrosus exclaimed, raising his hand in greeting, then motioned him to sit. “What are your thoughts on this lord general?”
Emil sat stiffly on a highly decorated chair and arranged his robes. “Varren is only a man. And, remember, our force managed to defeat that first invasion attempt at Kilsney.”
“But Te’Roek is no battleground!” the queen objected. “It’s a maze of streets and alleyways. To move any great force through there will be a slow procedure. Surprising Varren and his army will be impossible.”
“Not so.”
“Then enlighten us!” the queen exclaimed with no small hint of skepticism.
“The Ayons believe that our force is depleted, that Te’Roek is now a city of beggars, which, sadly, is mostly true. Those who laid down their arms find it hard to continue to survive there. However, Aiyla has told me that the Ayons are not stopping merchants entering the city.”
“But what advantage does that give us?”
“To ask civilians to fight is not the solution,” Emil assured her, “but where merchants can go, an army can go as well, given time.”
Korrosus looked up with a sudden brightness in his eyes and laughed. “But of course!”
Both his father and Queen Sorcha turned to look at him, puzzled. “What ‘of course?’” the king asked. “I see no obvious solution to this mess.”
“It’s the perfect way to ensure the safety of the citizens and defeat the Ayons!” the prince exclaimed.
“Or at least see them out of Te’Roek,” Emil added.
“But where will the men stay?”
“That will need some thinking over,” the shaman admitted. “If we could organize for citizens to leave while members of the army take their place, there should be no problems, as they can inhabit civilian homes. Before we do anything else, though, we need Aiyla to get into contact with Angora, Tiderius and his brother. They have created a makeshift base of operations in the city.”
“Operations?” the queen asked. “Operations for what?”
“For the resistance.”
CHAPTER 61
For perhaps the tenth time on his way down from the castle, Varren asked himself whether this was, in fact, a good idea. It had been only a month since the fighting in the city had eased and a great many streets had yet to be cleared of debris. The city’s graveyard had been filled to overflowing and scores of pits had been dug outside the city’s walls for the bodies of Ayons and Ronnesians alike. The war had indeed been costly.
It was his idea to address the masses in the middle city square and his idea also to post soldiers along the rooftops and at regular intervals in the crowd. He knew it was necessary to address the inhabitants of the city but there had been no real oppo
rtunity until now. They needed to know the motivation for the invasion and, in doing so, they would hopefully accept him as their new consul.
He was flanked by a total of six guards who had accompanied him from the castle gates. He heard the angered chatter of the people before he saw them and the volume of their shouts increased when they spotted him on the road. Varren ascended the few steps to the temporary wooden platform that had been constructed at the higher end of the square. He straightened his robes and moved forward, scanning the crowd with disdain but not showing it on his face.
“Citizens of Te’Roek!” he began. “I am Lord General Archis Varren.”
There was a roar of anger from the crowd, cursing and yelling; men waved their fists and spat, women screamed their disapproval. Varren had expected such a reception.
“I cannot deny that you have suffered from this defeat unnecessarily,” he continued. “This war has seen so much blood spilt, but it need never have happened.”
“You invaded our northern border!” a man shouted, invoking another verbal onslaught from the citizens of Te’Roek. “You say it was unnecessary but you began it! You drew first blood!”
Varren waited patiently as the crowd shouted and yelled. Eventually, the ruckus began to calm. He chose his next words carefully.
“Unforeseen events were to blame for our actions,” Varren explained. “You may or may not be aware of the circumstances that prompted our attack, so I will enlighten you.”
An expectant silence came over the crowd and all eyes focused upon him.
“A little over two months ago, you may recall a great fire in the city.”
“You caused that fire?” an old woman cried. “My daughter was killed in that blaze! Murderer!”
This time, Varren did not let the crowd take up their chorus of anger. He moved to the very front of the platform and gripped the wooden railing. “My king offered Queen Sorcha marriage to prevent this war!” he bellowed furiously. “But instead of taking the opportunity to secure peace for her empire, she chose instead to deceive! Your sovereign chose to reinforce your northern border in preparation for battle!”
An angry murmur rippled through the crowd, punctuated by looks of confusion. Varren noticed these looks and he raised his eyebrows – they had not known that.
“My king waited for her answer, not listening to his advisers, foolishly believing that he would be accepted, that peace would finally come. He would have gladly merged our two empires and treated every Ronnesian man, woman and child with respect! But King Samian was deceived by your queen, the woman who professes to act for your own good. This woman chose to subject you to so much unnecessary pain and loss!” He let this last sentence hang in the air for a moment and saw the people’s anger turn into confusion and doubt.
“There is another thing you will not know. For several days, King Samian was held prisoner in your city!” he exclaimed, prowling across the platform. “A monarch abducted from his home and brought to a cold and damp cell in that very castle!” He thrust his hand behind him to where the castle was highlighted in the orange wash of late afternoon. “He was injured, bleeding, but instead of being healed, he was drugged, starved and treated like a common thief!
“You may ask who thought to abduct a king and bring him so far? I, too, wondered the same thing. Those whom you trust and respect were responsible – Master Emil Latrett, Lord Markus Taal, Lady Kayte Heron, Sir Tiderius Auran and the islander healer, Angora.” As he said that last name, an involuntary shiver ran through him and he clenched his fists. “Yet your queen chose not to return him after learning what they had done. She chose not to do the right and honorable thing, instead leaving a wounded king to the bitter attack of disease and starvation!
“And what happened on the night of the fire was no accident. I, myself, came to rescue him from his imprisonment. He was almost unable to walk, so frail and decrepit had he become!
“But there followed the final deception. Angora, the islander, struck down my king in that very castle and cut short his young life! The king of the Ayons was murdered in cold blood by those so-called guardians of life, those protectors!”
Many citizens erupted in shouts of stunned disbelief or confused argument. Some of the louder men in the crowd turned to their fellows and began to talk angrily. Others just stood and stared. Varren fell silent, letting them voice their thoughts while they considered what he had said.
One by one, their cries of anger and doubt began to fade.
“King Samian died in this city, decades before his time,” he said, quieter now. “He was deceived and treated dishonorably by your queen and her advisers. Can you blame us for attempting to retrieve him when he was taken from his home, his own beloved people?
“But I do not desire for you to turn against your sovereign,” he continued, raising his hands, “for even though she may have done wrong, she always believed she was doing it for your own good. Her advisers led her astray. I ask that you do not judge your new consul harshly. If this conflict could have been settled without the loss of a single life, my late king would have seen it done, and I at his side.
“I ask for your cooperation, not your fealty, in bringing this fallen empire back to health and prosperity. A great era of peace looms before us but only should you choose it to be so. Should you choose to achieve this great task, then your grief and despair will turn to strength and wisdom. Choose to work alongside me to ensure the survival of this empire and your friends and families will not have died in vain.
“If this union can be achieved, if this city could calm its anger, I will defend its walls and my soldiers will spill their blood to keep you safe! By the Spirits, I will bear your hatred and fierce tongues should we only work together to make this country a strong branch of what will be the most powerful and respected realm since history began!”
He fixed his eyes on the first man who had cried out and then the old woman. In their eyes, he saw not anger but a cautious optimism. He swept his gaze across the rest of the crowd and raised his arms.
“You decide the next course of action. Peace or unrest. That decision, I leave to you.”
A few strategically placed Ayons posing as citizens hesitantly applauded and, soon, Ronnesians were joining them, cautiously looking around as though afraid of what they were doing. But more and more citizens had begun to clap and the majority of them were talking excitedly when Varren left the raised platform.
One thing troubled him still – the absence of the queen and her advisers. He had little doubt that Queen Sorcha had been transported elsewhere to be kept safe, probably to Milena, but he had expected at least one of her mages to remain in the capital, perhaps attempting to assassinate him, perhaps merely spying on him.
Yet, as he looked around, he saw no faces he recognized. He could not even sense the presence of any of the mages when he paused at the bottom of the stairs from the platform. It was strange, even unnerving. The fact that the citizens had calmed so readily after his speech roused a suspicion in his mind that there might be some kind of plot against the Ayon occupancy. He dismissed the thought as too fanciful, but kept his senses attuned for the presence of any of the Circle, looking repeatedly over his shoulder, searching for assassins. He reached the castle without discovering a hint of a threat.
The moment he dismissed the guards, flung off his outer cloak and collapsed into a large chair before the fireplace in what had once been Queen Sorcha’s sitting room, Lhunannon entered with a wide smile on his face.
“Good news, my lord!”
Varren groaned and sat up, turning his eyes to the enchanter in a less than enthusiastic way. He had had a long day and was desperately in need of some respite from his duties as consul and general.
“What is it?”
“Galenros has found them, my lord. The queen is in Milena, as you predicted, but he says he also saw Heron, Taal and Latrett at her side. He said he was certain the vision was of the present.”
“Where is he now?”
“Good,” Varren said, relaxing into the cushioned chair.
“And might I congratulate you on your speech?” Lhunannon added. “It was most uplifting. The Ronnesians’ trust in their queen has been shaken.”
This news cheered Varren considerably and he even smiled. It was not yet the right time to spread his forces out and around the rest of Kirofirth, as their presence in Te’Roek prevented any sort of uprising from occurring. But the citizens were calming faster than he had anticipated. It would only be a matter of time before they bent their knees in submission. Soon, he hoped, this island of occupied land would expand into a great southern arm of the Ayon Empire.
*
Rasmus turned away from the platform, pulling the scarf down from around his face and turned to his friend. Cassios shook his head and motioned for them to walk. They did not speak until they were far from the square and were certain no Ayon soldiers were near.
“I can’t believe it,” Rasmus said. “They were applauding him. Applauding the enemy, Cassios!”
“I know…Only a month and they’re willing to cooperate with Varren’s schemes.”
“This is not good news at all.”
“Where’s your brother?”
“Angora took him down the river to meet with Commander Mainar. Aiyla advised him last night that they had finally arrived at Kaledros.”
“He’s not suggesting they come to attack the city, is he?” Cassios asked, a frown creasing his brow.
“No. He’s had strict orders from General Kaster. Stay out of sight of the Ayon military until they’re given the order to attack.”
“I hope they know what they’re doing. I don’t know how long we can remain secret here.”
Rasmus led the way to an alley that intersected a main road. They checked both ways for any sign of Ayon soldiers and then pushed through the steady flow of people leaving the middle city square. Most were muttering to themselves but others were deadly quiet. Rasmus could not bear their expressions. He would not have felt so angry had Varren lied to them, but everything he had said had been true. He had not needed to lie to encourage the citizens to listen.