Holding The Line (Book 2)

by Andrew Wood

  Caldar grimaced, "fine, I'll get crowned, if you get married straight after" he asked Luken. His brother sighed, "very well, when are you thinking, two, three months or so?" Vanessa scoffed, "no your highness, Lord Galliss and I have already discussed how long he needs to arrange plans for the coronation; ten days no more." Caldar looked at her, "when did you take such an interest..." she gave him a wicked looking grin."He asked me, to try and get you to see sense, though not quite in those words." "Oh did he now? I think I will have to have words with him."

  As if the situation could get no worse, Sarena just happened to pop in, as if her timing could be any better. Caldar and Luken were beginning to think the pair of them had been stitched up. On hearing the details of what had been discussed, Sarena gave Luken a loving look. He knew he could not say no to a look like that, "Yes we can marry, if that is what you want," he said. She excitedly kissed him quickly on the cheek, before doing likewise to Taylor, "so much to do" she said as she quickly darted back out of the door.

  Within the hour, a meeting was called, and after further discussions with Lord Galliss, both the coronation of Caldar and the wedding of Luken to Sarena, would take place in ten days time. To appease both royals it was agreed that both should take the form of unpretentious affairs. A simple dais would be erected outside the keep entrance, so the ceremonies could be seen by the people. Not so agreeable was the fact Father Dagon had been tasked with holding both services. Most importantly, they needed to find someone to make a crown. The last crown of Corlan had been lost during the fall of Hamalin.

  There was initial discussion of melting down, a huge pile of gold from the treasury to make it. Caldar had quickly scoffed that idea, and after much thought and discussion with his brother had come up with the idea of using steel. They would not use just any steel, but that from the armour and weapons of the defeated enemies. This would give the crown a much deeper meaning, one born of sacrifice and courage, and recognition of their great victory. It was to be highly polished and adorned with a single red jewel positioned on the front centre, courtesy of Sarena's collection of precious stones.

  Lord Galliss would supply several barrels of wine from his home estate in the south, and had already sent a number of wagons to go and fetch them. As Sarena's father had died in Forwich, she had needed to find a substitute, and asked Galliss. The Lord had been close to tears when the Lady Sarena had approached him, and asked if he would do her the honour of giving her away. The big man of course accepted immediately, and was both honoured and humbled at the request.

  Luken was going to ask Caldar to be his best man, but seeing as he was getting crowned at the same ceremony, was not sure who to ask. He thought about Jak Corley or maybe Thomas Skalton, they had known him the longest. Taylor was to be a pageboy, and was not quite so keen on the job, once he saw what he had to wear. Vanessa was only too glad to be a bridesmaid, and help with the dresses.

  Notices were placed around the city, and soon the word spread. Despite the extra work being placed upon the people, and assumed it may have a negative effect, by contrast, it had appeared to give everyone a huge lift. The day would after all mean a time of celebration for everybody, with music, wine and food; it was just what the people needed. The only thing now was for Luken to decide on his best man.

  He spent ages that evening, writing down all the people he thought might be appropriate. Caldar was not only his brother, but also his best friend. Growing up as a prince in Hamalin, did mean he only had a small circle of friends, so small in fact, they were nonexistent. Jak and Thomas were both soldiers, and although he considered them close friends, they were both very old, as he saw it. He was just giving up hope when he thought of the perfect candidate, and despite it being late, he ran out of the door and down the stairs.

  The lamps flickered light down the stairway, as he took two and three steps at a time. Dashing past the guards at the keep doorway, catching them by surprise, he continued out into the yard. Heading for one of the timber buildings, he knocked on the door. He could still see lamp light flickering from within through the window, so assumed someone must still be awake. Lord Galliss answered the door, "Your highness, is there some emergency?" he asked with panic on his face. Luken shook his head, "no, nothing to worry about, can I come in?" he asked.

  Luken went in, and saw the person he wanted. "I have been wracking my brains for hours trying to think of someone suitable. Darak, will you be my best man?" The young gent who had been sitting up on his bed, leapt up, "really?" Luken nodded, "if you want to, I would like it very much if you would say yes." Darak smiled back, "your highness, I would be most honoured." Lord Galliss smiled at his son, not long since, this boy had caused him so much heart ache, now he looked at him with pride, "well we best get you a new suit to wear, can't have you looking all scruffy for such an important task."

  Chapter 5.

  Having sat and watched continually, movements in and out of the city of Bashek, Jared and Kaden had still to decide on a method of entry. They had noticed that during the day, all gates were opened, but guarded at all times. It appeared, as if everyone wanting to travel in or out of the city, was checked when doing so. During the hours of darkness, all but the northern most gate was closed. A slight window of opportunity may have shown itself, at mid-day the guard was changed, and for a few moments, the checks were somewhat less meticulous.

  During that very morning, they had seen a young man attempt an escape. They had watched from their hidden spot, as the man had waited until the guards were preoccupied. During this time he made a run out of the city, unfortunately for him, he got barely twenty paces before being shot down by a hail of crossbow bolts. His fallen body left to the crows and other creatures that saw such a thing as a feast.

  On two separate occasions, they had also witnessed, figures wearing long hooded cloaks. These appeared to venture in and out of the city at will, as yet, Jared and Kaden had not seen a guard challenge any of them. They had decided to watch a little longer, and if any more hooded men left the city unchallenged, they would follow them.

  After another cold breakfast, they did not have to wait long. Three cloaked figures, walked out of the city, unchallenged by the guard, through the north gate. Jared and Kaden quickly gathered up their belongings and keeping a short distance behind followed their targets. The three walked slowly, keeping to the main northern road, until they came to a small camp. A number of buildings and tents were scattered around, and a flag flying the colours of Darekia hung limply on a pole at the centre. The two south Besemians stayed back, so to remain out of sight.

  The camp appeared to be some sort of central information post, with riders coming and going in most directions. Jared nudged his friend, whispering, "We wait until they come back out, and make our move before they get back to the city." Kaden agreed with a single nod of his head, before gesturing for the two of them to retreat south a little away from the camp.

  A few minutes back down the road, they found an ideal spot to make their attack. The road curved slightly and the tree line stood right up to the roadside. They would let the cloaked figures pass, before attacking from behind, steal their cloaks, and walk casually into the city, disguised as them. The idea was simple enough, and they had always been taught, simple plans were often the best ones.

  An hour passed by, before the three men came into view, and Jared quietly drew his dagger from his belt. Feeling his mouth go dry and his heartbeat race, he took a deep breath and waited. They were only two, and would have to kill three with the minimal of fuss. A thought suddenly occurred to him, they did not even know that these cloaked figures were unarmed. For all they knew underneath that dark covering could be all manner of weaponry.

  A nudge from his partner bought him back to his senses, and they watched as the three figures slowly and silently walked past their position, hidden behind the trees. A final signal and both Jared and Kaden emerged, daggers out in hand. After a short and silent scurry up behind their targets, signalling to each
other which one they would take. The left and right would be first, and as to plan, the blades were bought up from behind and slit across the throats of the unsuspecting men, beneath the cloaks.

  The two dropped quickly to the ground, the middle target however, was alert very quickly. Kaden tried to reach with his dagger, but the man stepped to far away. Pushing his cloak back, and dropping his hood, revealing a tattooed face beneath. Jared froze as he saw the man draw a long sword, and make an attack against his friend. Kaden managed to dive to the side as the blade swung and missed him by mere fractions. Scrambling on his feet, the South Besemian was not quite so fortunate on out manoeuvring the second swing, the blade catching him on the upper arm. Kaden yelped, and dropped his dagger, as he clasped the wound.

  The Darekian grinned, and moved in for the kill. Jared finally realising his friend was going to die snapped out of his fear and leapt into action. He sprinted a few paces before launching himself at the enemy. Grabbing him from behind and plunging his dagger deep into the neck, causing a fountain of blood to squirt upwards. He twisted the blade until he could hear the last gurgling breath fade, as the man slumped to the ground. "Bloody hell, what happened, you froze!" Kaden shouted, still reeling from his own injury.

  Jared looked sympathetically at his friend, "sorry," he said collapsing to his knees, and staring at the blood on his hands. "Get me something to stop this bleeding, and snap out of it. We need to hide these bodies before anyone else travels this road," he now shouted, in a voice of authority. Jaden stood and quickly rummaged in one of his packs, finding a bandage, which he quickly wrapped around the deep cut on Kaden's upper arm. The curved blade of the Darekian sword had easily sliced through his outer clothing and bitten deep into the flesh.

  With the injury, it was left to the younger man to drag the bloodied corpses of the Darekians, deep into the tree line. After a quick rummage through the dead men's pockets, they found a few coins, but nothing else of any use. They did however take a sword each, and strapped them to their belts. Deciding they needed to move quickly, as the large amount of blood from the Darekians could clearly be seen on the surface of the road. Each putting on a cloak, the two moved hastily away from the scene of their attack and back to the city.

  Kaden could feel the pain from the wound on his arm; he knew it needed stitching to stop the flow of blood. That would have to wait until they managed to gain access into the city, though he hoped it would be soon, he knew the wound was still bleeding and could sense the dampness of the bandages around it. With the city walls now in sight, the two slowed, and attempted to walk in such a manner they had witnessed the Darekians doing. Taking unhurried, deliberate paces, they reached the gate. With their hoods up, covering their faces and heads dropped looking down to the ground. "I thought there were three of you," said a voice. Jared was about to stop, but felt his friend nudge him a little onwards. "Don't think they need to answer to you," spoke a different guard. The two ignored the talk and carried on slowly, hoping that they were not challenged.

  Although no more than ten seconds had passed, Jared felt it had lasted an eternity. His heart had almost stopped when he had heard the voices. However, they had passed through, and continued walking down the main street. He felt Kaden leaning into him to steer him down a side road, and obliged, turning off the main thoroughfare. They afforded themselves a glance at their surroundings, "we need to find a building. My arm needs stitches, it's bleeding heavily. I can feel it trickling down."

  In Easton Taylor stood rather glumly as he watched his father walk away. He had to stay with the old woman known as Dareen, the one who was making his outfit for the wedding. Of course, he would much rather go and watch his dad, especially as he was going to his magic lessons with the grumpy old man called Dagon. "Will you stand still please Taylor, I don't want to stick any of these pins in you," Dareen said, adjusting the hem on his new white shirt. His new black britches were already made, as were the ridiculous looking stockings he had to wear. Worse still, was tomorrow he was told he was having his hair washed and cut again. He hoped this wedding was worth all these sacrifices, he was having to make.

  Luken caught sight of Dagon, walking ahead of him down the main street. He quickened his pace to catch up with the old man, noticing he was with a woman. The Royal Guard escorting him had to jog a few steps to regain their respective positions, fore and aft of Luken. He noticed the woman, who was probably in her twenties looked in some distress. Dagon turned to him, on seeing the young prince step up alongside, "Ah! I have a special task for you today. This is Norma, I witnessed her having a fall a little earlier and I fear she may have broken her arm. Therefore, today's lesson will be you attempting to fix it."

  Luken sighed, but kept an outward smile to the poor woman being half dragged along with them. No pressure then, he thought to himself. "Your healing of the young Lord Darak was something quite remarkable, and of course I told this lovely young lady you would be only too glad to help her." It appeared that no matter what either did or said, Dagon and Luken would always be at loggerheads with each other. It dawned on him then, that as much as the old man irritated him, he was certain the opposite was just as true.

  Walking out through the gates, and turning off the road towards the river, Dagon assisted the woman in sitting down by the water's edge. "Now stop your whinging, the young prince will soon heal your arm," the old man told her, very unsympathetically. Luken shook his head, this man got worse, and had no patience with anyone. Kneeling beside her, Luken looked at her distraught face. He could tell she had been crying, and took her hand in his, "I will try and make things better for you," he said softly.

  He knew healing was difficult, and although he had saved the life of Darak, he had felt it achieved more by luck than any skill on his part. He closed his eyes briefly to allow his focus to build, that was not difficult, Dagon always saw to that part. He gently placed his fingertips on the large inflamed lump on the young woman's forearm, and she flinched at his touch. "Sit still woman," he heard Dagon say.

  He gently pointed his free hand to the water flowing alongside them. He felt the cool chill of the liquid rise up his arm, across his body, and down his fingers onto the wound. In his mind, he could picture the problem; one of the bones in her lower arm had a crack through it. Taking a deep breath, he recalled what he needed to do next, and the air around them grew warmer, as the water flowed over the woman's arm, encasing it in a sleeve of swirling liquid.

  She looked with utter amazement, as the water run across the young prince's fingers and started going upwards; defying everything, she had ever known to be possible. The young man's touch was so gentle, and she could feel the warmth radiating from his entire body. Her arm tingled and she felt a sudden burst of something she could not describe, as if some form of energy had suddenly been released.

  Luken slumped forward, his body suddenly barely able to hold itself up. The young woman quickly grabbed him, realising she was using the arm that had been broken, "oh, praise the gods, you have fixed it. Thank you so much your highness." Dagon nudged her out of the way, "Yes! Now move out the of the way woman, can't you see he needs attention." She gave him a sour look, before placing a gentle kiss on Luken's forehead," take care, and I shall always be in your debt," she whispered softly in his ear, before giving way to Dagon's nudging.

  The woman smiled as she walked off, Dagon however was not so pleased. Realising he had probably pushed his young pupil too far. The last occasion he had healed had caused him to become drained, and it appeared as if this had done likewise. Taking his hip flask, and a small vial, he quickly mixed a tonic. Helping him sit, Dagon offered a cup to Luken's mouth, "here drink this, it should help."

  A cold, but somehow very sweet liquid poured into his mouth, and Luken swallowed, and drank deeply. Whatever the drink was, it did at least quickly give him the energy to support his own weight. He looked up at the crotchety old man before him, and gave him a wry smile, "I fixed it." Dagon concurred, "Yes you did, well done. I thin
k however, your body is not ready for healing. For some reason, it requires so much of your own life force to carry out. I will need to speak to Sandred, for now I think it best you rest up."

  Luken's two guards aided him, and placing an arm around the shoulder of each, they slowly made their way back through the gates into the city. Those that saw him, thought the worse, fearing the young prince had befallen some accident. It was left to Dagon to explain, to those who rushed to see if he needed help. "He is fine, go away," he shouted rudely, though many ignored his discourteous remarks. This was the young man who they owed their lives, and some snide remark from some old fool was not going to keep them at bay.

  By the time they had reached the keep gates, what had started out as two guards, Luken and Dagon, was now a worried crowd numbering close on a hundred. Luken being totally unaware of the hullaballoo that he had caused, lifted his head, and turned. He was not sure why all these people were following him, though they were not permitted past the keep gates. "They are worried about you sire," one of the guards spoke.

  Luken summoned up enough energy; he knew he must just take a few steps back to the gates. With the guards still supporting him, he turned to the crowd of worried looking faces. "I am fine, I just need to rest" he spoke in a weak voice. "He healed my broken arm," came a loud shout from somewhere near the back of the crowd. The woman whom he had helped, worked her way forward, "With his magic, look," she shouted waving her arm aloft. The crowd gasped, and then the clapping and cheers started, a few at first but quickly building up to a deafening crescendo.

  Luken felt a little embarrassed, and he could see Dagon totally irritated by the whole affair. That was enough to make him smile, and with a struggle, he managed to wave his arm a little to the adoring crowd, who cheered louder when he did. As he walked off towards the keep, the guards held a firm line to stop anyone else following; Caldar came rushing through the doors.