The two soldiers glanced at each other. Kik raised his eyebrows.
“Easy, Yepert. We can take you to safety. Come with us and we will take you to our general. I’m sure he’ll be interested to hear about this witch and...Assassins were it?” Kik said with a hint of scorn in his voice.
“I don’t have time for that! I have to rescue my friends,” Yepert pleaded as the two legionary’s grabbed him by the arms and pulled him along.
“I reckon this is the thief we were sent to find don’t you Jovi?” Kik said laughing.
“Aye, I think he is. Anything to get out of this god forsaken forest,” Jovi replied.
Yepert looked from one soldier to the other in shock.
“Thief? Who are you calling a thief? Where are you taking me?” Yepert cried. He tried to escape but the soldiers were too strong.
“Stay still you little git,” Jovi snarled.
Yepert shut his eyes and muttered under his breath. With a surprised shout the two guards were sent sprawling to the ground. Yepert rounded on them his hands raised. He didn’t want to hurt anyone but these two were not going to help him.
“Let me go or else!” Yepert shouted, doing his best to sound intimidating.
“He’s got magic! The little shit is a mage! Don’t you know your kind aren’t allowed in this part of the realm,” Kik growled. The two soldiers staggered to their feet and drew their swords. Jovi circled behind Yepert whilst Kik advanced from the front.
“The general’s definitely going to want to know about you boy” Kik said menacingly. “No doubt we’ll get some gold as a reward. Catching a mage...Hmm should get us a nice big bag of Delfins...”
“I’m not your enemy. Please just let me go!” Yepert pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice.
The soldiers laughed cruelly. Suddenly Jovi lunged forward; the big man wrapped his powerful arms around Yepert who screamed. With his arms pinned to his sides he couldn’t cast any spells.
Kik chuckled as he approached the struggling boy. He pulled a pair of manacles from his belt and strapped them to the boy’s wrists. “Well that was easy. I thought your kind would put a better fight than that,” he mocked.
Yepert tried to struggle but Jovi was too strong. His cries echoed into the night.
*
They had walked for most of the night stopping only once when they heard the scuffling sounds of a pack of Pucks moving loudly through the forest. The two soldiers had drawn their swords but they had remained undetected.
Eventually they reached a large clearing with a rune stone standing tall and proud in its centre. Built around the stone was a wooden fort which had been constructed by the legion when they halted for the night.
Yepert’s eyes grew wide as he recognised where he was. He was back on the Balnor road.
The two soldiers roughly shoved him along until they reached the forts gate. A legionary stood atop the gateway with a flaming torch. He barked an order to someone unseen and the gate swung slowly open.
Yepert was pushed through the gate and into the fort. Rows of tents filled the space between the forts wooden walls and the smell of cooking meat and sounds of blacksmith forges range out into the night.
Eventually they reached a large tent with two stern looking legionary’s standing guard outside. The right hand guard frowned as he saw them approach. He raised his spear.
“Halt.”
“C’mon Odrin we’ve been travelling all night,” Kik moaned.
The guard called Odrin scowled before he swung his spear and smacked the taller soldier across the face sending him clattering to the ground.
“That is Captain Odrin to you worm,” the captain growled. He composed himself by tugging his blue tunic straight and adjusting his armour.
“Now then,’ he went on; ‘did you two catch the man who stole from the stores?”
The captain glared at Yepert who shrank back under his intense gaze.
“This is a boy. The thief who stole those supplies was a man. I know he was a man because he was a legionary, now a deserter. So tell me why have you brought a boy to the general?” Odrin asked. He spoke as though he were addressing a small and rather simple child.
“He’s a mage!” Kik cried as he staggered to his feet. ‘he had this on him” the red faced soldier added passing the captain the note he had taken from Yepert’s cloak pocket.
“He was in the forest, not far from Tentiv. We thought the general would want to know why,” Jovi added.
Odrin raised his eyebrows in surprise. He regarded Yepert for a moment. A hint of sympathy flashed in his eyes.
“Is that true boy? Are you a mage?” Odrin asked quietly.
Yepert nodded his head in the affirmative. There was no point in lying. Adults almost never believed the words of children.
“Leave us,” Odrin ordered Jovi and Kik. The two men opened their mouths as though they were about to protest but one look from the captain sent them on their way. Yepert wasn’t sorry to see them go.
The captain’s harsh expression softened as he unlocked the manacles around the boy’s wrists.
“Now then lad, time to meet the general.”
*
Rason looked up from the papers on his desk as the flap to his command tent opened. A brazier stood in the corner giving off the only source of light. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and sat back on his canvas chair. Waging a war was a tiring business.
“What is it Odrin?” Rason asked. The general stood and stretched his aching back, grunting in satisfaction as he felt it click. He glanced at the map hanging by two wooden pegs sewn into the canvas of his tent. The realm of Delfinnia was upon it, regions controlled by his enemies shaded in varying colours.
The legions push east had met little resistance so far but his spies had revealed that the Baron of Balnor was mounting a defence at the Zulus Bridge on the Zulun River. It would be a tough battle. Many of his men would surely die.
“The men we sent after the man who was stealing from the baggage train found this young man deep in the forest. He claims to be a mage,” Odrin explained. The captain nudged Yepert forward and handed the note to his general.
“A mage you say,” Rason said taking a fresh look at the bedraggled youth fidgeting before him. He opened the note and walked over to the brazier to read it.
He froze as he read the contents.
“Leave us captain,” Rason ordered. Odrin hesitated for a moment before throwing his commander a salute and leaving the tent.
Rason waited for a moment, his eyes boring into Yepert.
“Who gave this to you boy?” he demanded. His arm shook with excitement and his eyes were wide. Yepert stepped back. The general was making him feel uneasy.
“A knight of Niveren gave it to me, he was one of my companions. Please sir you must help my friends they’re all in terrible danger! A witch took them!” Yepert pleaded.
Rason glared for a moment before starting to chuckle.
“The witch? Oh my, Cliria has been busy...her little trap worked then...”Rason muttered to himself.
Yepert stepped back in horror.
“You know the witch?”
Rason laughed humourlessly, before lowering his voice conspiratorially.
“Of course, it was she who encouraged me to fight for the crown. She promised me such power that no man could refuse her, and now’ he smiled waving the note, ‘now thanks to you I know where the little bastard prince is hiding. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to know as well.”
The general banged a fist on his desk. The tent’s flap reopened and in walked captain Odrin who stopped and saluted his general.
“Bind this mage in chains and assign a detail to take him to Sunguard, and summon the officers. We have a new destination.”
Odrin hesitated. He looked at his general in disbelief. He glanced at the boy who looked as though he had seen a ghost and who was on the verge of tears.
“Begging your pardon sir, but where is this new destination? The Baron of Baln
or’s forces are only a day’s march to the East...”
Rason had his back to the captain and was studying the map of the kingdom intently.
“Eclin captain. We will march to Eclin,” Rason replied his voice sounding distant.
Odrin frowned in confusion. Eclin was two weeks away to the north. Even at a forced march the mountains would take a week to reach barring any ill weather or other incidents.
“May I ask why Eclin sir?”The captain asked in confusion evident in his tone.
Rason turned to face him.
“Because that is where the Heir to the Sundered Crown is hiding.”
***
28.
Eclin
The sound of the drums was unnerving. All through the day and the long cold nights the sound of the drums reverberated off of the surrounding mountains. For over a week the noise had persisted, but only now had they become so loud.
Woven watched from one of the high towers on the city of Eclin’s battlements. Finally the un-dead horde had arrived at the gates. His thick grey cloak hid his face in shadow and from the view of the nervous soldiers and citizens who had gathered to watch their doom form up in the snow.
Rank upon rank of un-dead had poured through the mountain pass, the ruins of the fortress of Ruion standing as a mocking reminder of the ranger’s failure to halt the Lich’s relentless march. Fire still flickered in the distant casting eerie shadows of beasts upon the snow dusted mountainsides.
“They will attack soon?” Briden asked nervously. The younger ranger hopped from one foot to the other to ward off the night’s cold.
“Probably at dawn, the ghouls have yet to come through the pass,” Woven replied. He narrowed his eyes as he watched an archer on the battlements loose an arrow at the horde below. He shook his head. It was a waste of good iron and fletching.
“Surely the baron will order the retreat? We’ve done all we can to slow them down,” Briden asked, a hint of hope in his voice.
Woven snorted derisively. He could understand the man’s fear but he understood Lido more. The Baron would never surrender his city without a fight, even if it was against a seemingly undefeatable foe.
“I wouldn’t count on it. The baron sent riders south months ago to beg for reinforcements and still we stand alone. He’s a prideful man and not one who ever gives up without a fight,” the older ranger growled.
The stubborn baron would get them all killed.
The low note of a horn blast sounded in the distance. Woven turned to face the southern part of the city. That was where the call had come from. He felt a brief pang of excitement.
“Come on lad, sounds like some help has come after all!” he cried as he ran towards the southern gate with Briden hot on his heels. He bounded down the towers stone steps to cross an open courtyard. As he went he noticed that other folk were also heading in the same direction.
“What’s going on?” he asked a young woman who carried a small child in her arms. She too was hastily making her way to the south gate.
“The knights! The knights are here!” she replied with a faint smile. Her accent was not one of a commoner but one from someone who came from a regal family.
They made their way through the large cities streets taking shortcuts that only a local who had spent their entire life living in a city would know.
Finally they reached the wide avenue which led to the southern gate and pushed their way through the rapidly growing crowds. The large wooden gates were open, the iron portcullis was raised.
“Thank Niveren” Briden whispered in awe.
Coming through the gate was the order of the Knight of Niveren. Thousands were coming through. Noble warriors astride their powerful warhorses, sergeants wore the white livery and gold star of the order following them. Archers, crossbowmen and swordsman all followed and every man was dressed in the bright white livery.
The citizens of Eclin cheered at the sight. Women raised their screaming children onto their shoulders so that they could see the warriors.
At the head of the army was an elderly looking man dressed in plate armour. He wore a long cape the colour of the sea and a silver open faced helmet. Woven recognised him as the grandmaster of the order Sir Thondril.
A trumpet blast quietened the crowd. Woven strained to look up the road. Marching rapidly towards the gate was a contingent of the Eclin guard. Their blue and gold mantels adorned with the city’s sigil of the mountain bear. Riding at their head was Baron Lido, at his side Sir Grandir.
Lido checked his horse bringing it to a halt before Thondril. The crowd fell into a tense silence as everyone strained to hear. Woven pushed his way closer so that he stood within earshot.
“Baron Lido,’ Thondril greeted warmly a smile on his elderly face. ‘We come to you in this darkest of hours to offer you aid in your struggle against evil. We would have come sooner but alas the roads are dangerous and the going was slow.”
Lido sneered. He reigned in his horse which stepped from hoof to hoof as it sensed its owner’s anger. A look of rage crossed the baron’s face. His grey eyes were haggard and his once brown hair had greyed. The months of constant battle and watching his lands succumb to evil had taken their toll.
“I sent word for aid months ago! Months!” Lido bellowed. Sir Grandir moved to stand beside the Baron and placed a calming hand on the horse’s reigns. Lido glared at the big knight before staring daggers at the grandmaster.
“Sir Grandir sent a request for help months ago! Not one baron has marched to our aid, the legion has not come and now on the verge of our annihilation you arrive. Why should I accept your aid when you left us to our fate!” The baron raged.
Thondril looked aghast at the baron’s words.
“Baron,’ he replied bowing his head, ‘we came as soon as we could. No riders came to us, no word has come from Eclin save for the rumours carried on the breeze by merchants and the like. Our journey took so long because the pass to the Delfinnian plains over yonder was blocked by huge boulders. It took us a week to clear them,” Thondril explained.
Lido glared disbelievingly at the knight.
“No...No...Messenger made it south?” Lido muttered despairingly. The fire in his eyes left him and he slumped in the saddle. He had fought on with the belief that the armies of the south would come to his aid, now that belief had been shattered.
Sir Grandir too looked pale at the news. Woven though shook his head in disbelief. He had scouted the pass to the South. He had seen with his own two eyes that it was traversable.
“Impossible. I scouted the pass to the south but a day ago. Nothing blocked the way,” Woven shouted. Was he going mad?
“Then your eyes were deceived,” Thondril said soberly.
*
The Knights of Niveren made themselves at home in the city with knights and retainers taking up lodgings in many of the city’s homes or pitching tents in any scrap of open space they could find. The tired defenders of Eclin were pleased to see them and most were happy to swap places on the walls with the holy warriors.
The white mantled knights now manned the walls, making for an impressive sight. Thousands of quivers of arrows were lined up against the stone parapets of the walls crenulations, bows too were rested nearby. The Knights also dragged braziers onto the walls, they would be vital to fending off the horrors that continued to pour through the mountains. Fire was the only thing that truly destroyed the dead.
The citizens of Eclin felt hope for the first time in a long time, the tales of the Knights battles against the un-dead and fell beasts stirring their hearts. No other fighting force in the realm was better at vanquishing the evil remnants of the magic wars and servants of Danon.
Woven watched the bustling activity from a high window in Baron Lido’s private rooms. As senior Ranger he had been invited to attend the war council.
Sat around a large round table were the order’s commanders, the baron’s generals and representatives of the city guard.
“Magic can d
o terrible things to a man. It can make you see things that are not there, it can give you hope where there is none and it can destroy all you hold dear,” the elderly Thondril preached.
“This we have learnt all too well,” Sir Grandir said as he gulped a cup of wine. Baron Lido huffed.
“The Lich that assaults this land was unexpected. If we had known such a thing still existed we would have come here sooner, we would have launched crusade after crusade until it was destroyed,” Thondril went on, a slight frown on his face as he tried to ignore the Baron.
Woven shook his head. Lido was a good man but he was also prone to being pig headed or foolish. For a long time the rangers had warned that things stirred in the mountains and yet Lido had dismissed those fears. His pride and desire for independence clouded his judgement until now a creature the likes of which had not been seen since the last days of the magic wars was assaulting the kingdom.
“Who is the Lich?” Woven asked. The question silenced the others.
“Every Lich in history has had a name, has been or was once a powerful magic user. The last had been the dark wizard Sivion if I remember correctly. So who is it this time?”
The men sat at the table looked at him in surprise.
“You are very well read for a Ranger,” Thondril muttered. The elderly knight pushed back his chair and began to pace the room. He stopped to regard a portrait of one of Eclin’s former rulers.
“It is true that the three Lichs that have appeared throughout history were all once men. Mages and wizards corrupted by dark magic. Necron the first Lich and master of the N’gist was one, Rigonin the Failed who became a monster to save his beloved, and as you say, Sivion the dark master of the black mages in the magic wars.”
The grandmaster stopped at the window to look out over the battlements.
“The one threatening us now must have been hiding for centuries in the depths of the mountains...for no mage or magic user has been legally allowed to live outside of Caldaria since the reign of King Riis.”
Heir to the Sundered Crown (The Sundered Crown Saga) Page 18