by H. J. Cronin
He stroked her chin to calm her and softly said, ‘It is just a meeting with the lords, they may not agree to it. But something must be done to break this stalemate.’
‘Throwing your own and your men’s lives away is not the answer,’ she said.
‘I must do my duty as king of this clan, Harriet. Promise me one thing,’ he said, gazing into his daughter’s eyes.
‘Anything, Father,’ she replied.
‘Take care of your sisters – you will know when the time comes to take charge. You are the eldest and therefore you will become queen after me,’ he said. Harriet saw how hard this was for him to say.
‘I promise you that, Father. But that will not be necessary, because now you can promise me that you won’t go!’ she said with a smile.
‘You know I can’t promise you that, Harriet,’ he said, smiling back at her. ‘I must go now. I love you my pretty flower, explain all of this to your sisters and give my love to them.’
‘I will, Father. I love you, too,’ she said, bowing her head, trying to fight the tears.
King Lionel left the makeshift hospital to attend the meeting with his lords. The ground surrounding the hospital was stained with the blood of his soldiers. He walked past the stables where the horses whinnied at the stench of death. He passed the civilian buildings of his great city; women who passed offered him their prayers and well wishes, men acknowledged him, and every now and then groups of soldiers marched past towards the gate to give the defenders a break.
The citadel was in the centre of the city; two large golden lion statues guarded either side of its high gates. A great wall surrounded the citadel and inside there were scores of people milling around; blacksmiths forged weapons and soldiers trained. He walked alongside his escort up a tall stairway to the golden gates of his citadel, where he entered the hall and there the surviving four of seven of his lords awaited him.
The king of the Clan of the Lion was the only clan king to have lords under his service; seven surrounding towns served him and they had all answered the king’s call to war. Lionel looked at the pompous, fat, bald-headed Lord Krom, tall, thin Lord Tamos with his long, grey hair and twirling moustache, the short, stocky Lord Tamzin, and lastly the handsome Lord Kafer, ever humble.
‘Greetings, King Lionel,’ Lord Krom started in his high born tone, ‘For what reason have you called us here?’
‘Typical, Krom,’ Lord Tamzin scoffed, ‘speaking in such a way to the king can be called treason.’
Lord Krom sneered and waved Lord Tamzin down with a hand. ‘How dare you talk down at me, Tamzin? We are equals here. You will remember your place!’
Before Lord Tamzin could respond King Lionel cut in, ‘Now is not the time for your little squabbles, we have little time at hand. The moment we argue amongst ourselves is the moment we lose this war.’ The other lords stood, instantly silenced by the king’s words.
‘What do you require of us, my king?’ Lord Kafer said in a soft and modest voice.
‘I will not dwell on the matter nor will I beat around the bush,’ said the king, and the lords looked on apprehensively. ‘We are losing this war. High Count Darkool has a relentless army at his disposal, and his numbers are ever increasing. It will not be long before they breach the walls and slaughter our city. If we hadn’t evacuated your towns then all those people would have been massacred. Food is running low, disease could strike the troops at any moment, and morale is fluctuating.’
There was silence for a brief moment before Lord Tamos broke in, his voice high pitched and loud, ‘What do you propose, my king? I think it is clear to us all that help will not arrive.’
‘Help was never going to arrive, Tamos,’ Lord Kafer said. ‘The north has been taken, the Tiger clans have destroyed each other in the south and the Lizard clan hides in its jungle. If it is help we are waiting for then we might as well give up now.’
It was Lord Tamzin’s turn to speak, ‘I think we knew that we were alone in this struggle, and we have fought valiantly.’
King Lionel looked at each of his lords. ‘Have you quite finished?’ he asked them all rhetorically. ‘I suggest an assault on the Vandalore clan. We have twenty thousand men remaining, not including militia who will fight should the city be breached. I will take a force of cavalry and strike directly at High Count Darkool himself – if we take him out then the war is over.’
Lord Tamzin gasped, ‘Have you gone mad, my King?’
The king shot him a look and then Lord Krom spoke out, ‘Now that is suicide, King Lionel, many would die needlessly.’
‘It is our only hope to end this war rather than die in vain,’ the king said.
‘I think it could work,’ Lord Tamos put in.
‘This is not a discussion, gentlemen,’ the king said stiffening his back. ‘On the dawn of the second day from now I will lead the charge – feel free to join me. My daughter Harriet will rule in my absence.’
‘I stand with you, my king,’ Lord Tamos said first.
‘I guess you can count me in, King Lionel,’ Lord Kafer said.
‘My sword is yours, my king,’ Lord Tamzin said.
Lord Krom scoffed pompously and said, ‘As you have given us the option, my king, I will be staying here.’
‘Coward,’ Lord Tamos called out, raising his arm towards Lord Krom.
‘It is his decision to stay behind, Lord Tamos,’ King Lionel said. He then looked to the other lords and said, ‘Enjoy the time you have left here, my lords. We will charge the enemy lines, and we may not return. This may be our chance to end this war or die trying.’
‘Very chivalrous of you, my king,’ said Lord Krom. ‘May Drugar guide you in this madness.’ With that, Lord Krom walked away and left the others. King Lionel was satisfied that he had three of the lords on his side; Lord Krom wasn’t an issue. Tamos, Kafer and Tamzin nodded their farewells to the king and left him. Soon he would be leaving this city for the first time in many months to take the fight to the enemy.
5
Vassal of the North
Katrina, the Black Widow, sat with crossed legs and a stern countenance on her webbed throne in Shartak. In front of her was her entourage of captains and guards. The captains and guards could not read her mood and none dared to be the first to speak. The Black Widow in a good mood was wicked, but the Black Widow in a bad mood was capable of unspeakable acts; killing an incompetent captain would be of little concern to her.
Since the fall of the north two months ago, the Black Widow clan had ruled the minor and major northern towns with an iron fist. Any resistance was crushed; the clan had recruited vast amounts of men into the growing ranks of the new Black Widow army. New, stronger weapons and armour had been crafted using the strong metals mined from the Northern Mountains. She had despatched men to aid High Count Darkool when he requested them, to keep him happy and to keep his gaze far from her activities. Her army was growing strong and she hoped he knew nothing of it.
The hatch to the dark throne room suddenly burst open, breaking the silence of the room; all eyes were now on the newcomers. Two of the Black Widow’s guards accompanied a grey-skinned man with long, white hair, clad in red armour.
One of the guards bowed his head as he saw the anger build in the Black Widow’s face. ‘Mistress, Count Ulmar has arrived, and requests your presence in the name of High Count Darkool,’ he said, his voice shaky and uneven.
‘Is that so?’ Katrina asked, now staring at Count Ulmar.
‘Greetings, Black Widow. I have been sent here by the one true master of Wilmurin, High Count Darkool, to oversee the army you are creating for him,’ Count Ulmar said, in a soft, dark voice.
‘How dare you come to my city unannounced, count?’ Katrina sneered.
Count Ulmar laughed coldly as he replied to the Black Widow, ‘The subjects of High Count Darkool, especially counts, do not need to ask for permission!’
‘The High Count sending his servant to spy on me displeases me, and almost causes me to question my
choice of allies,’ she said, staring the count straight in the eye.
The count laughed again. ‘Choice? Black Widow, from what I understand the choice was death or life. You chose life, so you are now a servant of the High Count, just as I am,’ he replied loftily.
‘I serve nobody, you vampire bastard!’ Katrina responded angrily. ‘Go back to your master and tell him so.’
The sneer on Count Ulmar’s face angered the Black Widow even more. ‘My stay here will be permanent for the foreseeable future. If High Count Darkool does not hear from me every two weeks he will assume me dead and declare you a traitor, and you will be killed for treason,’ he said.
‘You dare to threaten me in my own home?’ Katrina said, raising her voice, and her guards stepped towards Count Ulmar with their weapons drawn.
Now Count Ulmar’s arrogant look was replaced by one of concern at the thought that the Black Widow may actually be mad enough to kill him. ‘My apologies for starting off on the wrong foot, Black Widow. I am merely a messenger, expected to prove myself as the newest of the counts. Let us start again,’ he said, and bowed.
‘I will never treat with a count in my own city. One of my captains will show you to a suitable accommodation. You may stay, but I will not hesitate to expel you from Shartak should I suspect danger,’ Katrina concluded, and signalled for one of her captains and two guards to escort the count to his new accommodation.
Captain Armas, the Black Widow’s leading captain, stepped forward. ‘Mistress,’ he said. ‘What does this new arrival mean?’
‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged. ‘High Count Darkool feels the need to watch over us, it is apparent to me that he does not trust me. Our operations cannot continue whilst this Count Ulmar is here. We must be careful and secretive, not allowing him even the smallest hint that we are building an army.’
‘And if he suspects?’ Captain Armas asked.
‘Then our plan is at risk and we must strike immediately, at the heart of his new capital, Vandaloria.’
‘But mistress, we are not ready to attack yet, our forces are not ready to contend with his,’ the captain said anxiously, which only served to anger the Black Widow.
‘That is the last time you question my orders, Captain Armas, next time I will feast on your body for dinner,’ she said calmly, and the words pierced the captain like a knife.
‘I am sorry, mistress,’ was all he could say.
She ignored the apology and carried on, ‘We have a powerful army, growing every day. The count troubles himself with war in the south, Lerthayl still has not fallen and whilst it stands it serves as a distraction from our activities.’
‘What is the plan, mistress?’ asked one of the captains. ‘We know that you plan to topple the High Count, but how will you implement it?’
‘I am glad you asked,’ she started. ‘We will gather our army and force the rest of the towns into militias. We will then march on the capital, Vandaloria, and take it. The surrounding towns will be taken and then we march on the south and meet the High Count head on. Catching him by surprise we will destroy his army and then claim Wilmurin as ours. I will then be declared the queen of all.’
The captains stood motionless and in silence. Each one of them thought Katrina’s plan was ludicrous, but none would dare voice that opinion, either to their queen or each other. They knew the strength of High Count Darkool’s armies and they knew that their own small army would be wiped out. To question the Black Widow’s idea would mean instant death.
Captain Armas spoke first. ‘Very good, mistress,’ he said, and then the other captains nodded and murmured their agreements.
‘Good, I will be leaving this city for some time. I must go to the port of Selarmus – the puppet lord has some news of the missing Johan. Captain Fern and a small force will join me,’ she stated, and the captains nodded their approval.
Captain Fern stepped forward, the Black Widow’s only female captain. ‘I am honoured to accompany you, Black Widow. What of that Count Ulmar?’
The Black Widow thought for a moment before speaking, ‘He will have to come with us so we do not arouse suspicion.’
‘Very well,’ Captain Fern said. ‘I will go and fetch him.’
‘Well done, Captain,’ the Black Widow said approvingly. She then looked to her other captains and selected one. ‘Captain Frentus, you are in charge of Shartak in my absence. You will watch over the creation of my army and the people of my city. If any ill befalls the city then I will have your head on a pike.’ With that she left the captains in the throne room and started preparing for the long journey north to Selarmus.
The Black Widow and her small host marched into Selarmus, which was a shadow of its former self; the once thriving and busy town was now a dark and cold place. No one came to greet the Black Widow, and only a few of the town guards acknowledged her. The party walked along the cobbled road past houses and shops; as the entourage passed houses townsfolk closed their shutters, keeping the sight of the Black Widow out of their homes.
A small party of noble-looking men approached the host. There were eight of them and at their head was a man of medium height with cropped dark hair, wearing the yellow and black colours of Selarmus: the puppet lord, Lord Thedd.
He stroked his stubbly chin and bowed to the Black Widow. ‘Mistress, it is my pleasure to welcome you to Selarmus,’ he said courteously.
‘Enough of your words, Thedd,’ Katrina said and pursed her black lips. ‘Take me to your hall, feed me, and give me wine.’
‘Yes, mistress,’ Lord Thedd bowed again.
He led the Black Widow and her men to the town’s hall, a large wooden building with thick wooden doors and roof. They entered the hall; doors along either side of a foyer led to various rooms, but they walked straight on into a large open space which was the lord’s chamber, where he and his guests dined. Katrina was soon sitting at a long table along with Captain Fern, Count Ulmar and three of her closest guards. On the opposite side Lord Thedd sat with his aides. They ate a venison and potato stew and drank wine. The lord clearly had difficulty hiding his slight unease at the sight of the Vandalore count sitting with them.
Lord Thedd was obviously attracted to the beauty of the Black Widow. She was young with long black hair and black lips, and her figure slim; the lord seemed to be unable to keep his eyes off her.
‘So what news do you have for me, Lord Thedd?’ the Black Widow started after they had finished eating. She stared into his eyes, knowing the inappropriate thoughts that filled his head.
The lord was so distracted that the question startled him but he managed to answer, ‘Yes, mistress, I have some news that may interest you and High Count Darkool.’
Katrina looked irritated. ‘Well, spit it out man,’ she snapped.
‘Er... yes... mistress. It has just come to my attention that some months ago there was trouble down by the dock. There were two that caused the disturbance: one, a woman who transformed herself into a large light-brown bear. She managed to escape.’
The Black Widow looked at him, slightly bewildered. ‘And how do you think this information may help me?’
‘You told us to keep an eye out for a man named Johan. I thought it strange that a woman with the same appearance and shape-shifting ability as the traitor King Bemnom’s daughter should be accompanied by a rogue. The rogue with the bear is called Palar, and I heard word from Bruskany that a small party of druids were questioning him and then some time later he vanished. I can only guess that Johan was nearby.’
‘You can only guess? Why was this not brought to my attention before?’ Katrina demanded, now openly angry.
‘That is because I have only just found out about the incident, mistress. I sent word to you as soon as I could,’ the lord replied.
‘Such an incident happened two months ago and you knew nothing of it?’ Katrina snarled. ‘All I see before me is an incompetent fool with no backbone.’
‘No mistress, I swear it, I didn’t know. I will despa
tch men immediately to search the northern kingdom for this Johan – please forgive me,’ Lord Thedd pleaded.
‘You mean to say that you have not yet sent any men out to hunt for the Night Hunter?’ Katrina asked, propping her back up against her chair.
Count Ulmar now stood and slammed his hands down onto the table. ‘This fool is an embarrassment to Count Darkool’s kingdom, Black Widow. You must teach the man a lesson, or I will.’
Katrina shot the count an angry glance. ‘Do not tell me what to do, count, this is my land and you will do well to remember that, you blood sucking runt,’ she said.
‘This is High Count Darkool’s land, and you are his vassal. You will do well to remember that,’ he said in a bitter tone.
‘One day you will meet your doom, Count Ulmar, and it will be by my doing,’ Katrina warned, but the count returned the threat with a smile.
Katrina turned to face Lord Thedd once more, who looked back at her with petrified eyes. She then signalled with her left hand to two guards behind her, who moved at once to seize the lord. There was a brief struggle as he tried to escape but the strong guards pinned him down. He tried to plead for his life but Katrina sipped her wine, ignoring the noise.
Without another word she stood and glared at Lord Thedd, kissed him on the cheek, and signed to the guards to throw him on the floor. He pleaded again and cried out but she continued to ignore him. Suddenly she opened her arms out wide and four long, black, hairy legs grew from her body. Soon all her limbs took on the same shape and then her body changed into that of a large black widow spider. She hissed and Lord Thedd screamed. He was soon silenced as the Black Widow pounced on him and fed.
Count Ulmar looked on; he was the only person in the room who didn’t shudder at the sight.
For him life was cold and wretched. He remembered his previous life but did not desire it; he liked this power, admired it, and worshipped it. Never had he felt so powerful; he relished feeling cold and wretched. His first order of business had been to travel to the Eagle’s Tower, where he meet the wife of the Eagle’s son, Ardag. He took great pleasure in killing her and her child, but despite searching everywhere he could not find Johan. Shalon, the Lich King, mercilessly killed anyone in his path, no matter their gender or age. He wore a black cloak which hid many of his skeletal features; only his face showed with pieces of flesh still stuck to his skull.