The Dread King: Book One of The Larken Chronicles

by R. L. Poston

  “All ride horses,” answered Algar. “Half carry Blade or Crystal. The other half carry Stone.”

  “Hmmm,” mused Jaris. “What do you think, First Healer?”

  Amanda took a moment to answer. “I believe that this group is designed to make a quick stab at our defense. They may hope to catch us unprepared and to win the pass, but I find it hard to believe that they would commit themselves a week ahead of their main forces.”

  “I do too,” said Jaris. “Friend Algar, do you know anything else about this advance group?”

  “No, only that it travels during the night and rests during the day.”

  “That makes sense,” muttered Jaris. “It is the desert still, even with the rain. They’ll stay fresher by traveling at night.”

  The group was silent for a while as each tried to make sense of Algar’s reports. Larken felt compelled to ask, “Sir, if they arrive here in six days, will they not win the pass?”

  “No,” answered Jaris. “Gahen has been making excellent time with the cavalry. With the pass being made more stable and more passable, Gahen will be here a day earlier than we expected. Between our cavalry and the Warders from Grealand, we can have a considerable force here in three days, and our Elven friends can easily be in position by then. The pass would be safe from such an attempt. It’s the futility of their action that worries me. There’s something here that we don’t see. Even if they seriously believe that such a small force can win the pass, why wouldn’t they still wait until the main body of the invasion arrives? It just makes no sense, unless they know our exact strength and timing.”

  “Which they probably do,” said Amanda. “Dirkston couldn’t have been the only traitor. We’re probably shadowed by several folks who are sending regular reports back to the enemy. I think that they know a lot more about us than we know about them. No offense to our Elven friends, but we’re fighting by the book. They’re writing it.”

  “We agree,” said Algar. “We had hoped that you would understand the Dark One’s strategy, but we also assumed that they know our position and strength. The Dark One’s forces probably know us better than we know them.”

  “Is that what we’re going to call them—The Dark One’s forces?” asked Amanda.

  Jaris answered, “How about we shorten it to the ‘Dark Forces?’ That sort of goes with them traveling only by night, anyway.”

  “OK, by me,” answered Amanda. “A good name will help us focus.”

  Larken asked, “So, if these Dark Forces really do arrive in six days, what would be our battle plan?”

  Jaris answered, “We would establish our primary defense at this end of the pass. Our Warders would be the front line, depending heavily on our Elven friends to guard our flanks and reinforce any weakness with their archery. Our cavalry would be our second line of defense. If we stay in the pass, they won't be able to flank us, since the mountain sides are too steep to climb or use as a path to our flanks.”

  “But the Warders would be the main force?” asked Larken.

  “That’s correct,” said Jaris. “The Warders are quite capable of turning away a much larger force. If they attack our Warders, they would be destroyed.”

  “Suppose they didn’t just attack? Suppose they have developed a new way of fighting?” asked Larken. “I was thinking of what you said about what the scholars believed—that, in the Dread Wars, they had formed a weapon out of the Healers to stun the mind.”

  “I don’t know the answer to that,” said Jaris. “Since they are doing something unexpected, and we don’t know what their plan is yet, we can’t prepare for something that we don’t know about. We’re going to have all sorts of backup plans just in case they have something new, but I can’t prepare for magic that I haven’t seen yet.”

  “I agree,” said Amanda. “Fortunately, we do have some time to prepare. We’ll have Healers stationed near the Warders. I know that’s not customary, but they might be able to do something if we do suffer losses.”

  Once the analysis of the Dark Forces’ movements was agreed to, it was a relatively simple matter to make plans. Messages were sent to the Norland, Grealand, and Shropanshire forces instructing all the commanders to send ahead as many mounted Warders, Healers, and infantry as possible. Algar would split his Elven forces evenly into two. One half would be archers positioned along the defensive line with the Warders to support them with firepower and to strengthen their lines. The other half would split again and positioned on both sides of the pass, hidden on the mountain slopes. They would serve as protection if the main body had to fall back into the pass and as potential shock troops to break any stalemate.

  Jaris would position most of his Warders about one hundred yards inside the mouth of the pass with the Elves. Jaris’ strategy was to halt the main body of attacking Dark Forces and to use the flanking Elven forces to attack from the sides.

  Larken was surprised to learn that Gahen and he would be assigned to the northern and southern flank respectively. Jaris’ explanation was simple. “You’re my strongest Warder. Where is the logical place to put you?”

  Larken’s answer was hesitant. “In the middle of the front lines, I suppose.”

  “That’s right,” said Jaris. “That’s the primary reason that I’m not going to do that.”

  “Sir?” questioned Larken, confused by Jaris’ remark.

  “Look, Larken,” Jaris said, “you don’t win wars doing what the enemy expects, even if it’s the right thing to do. Do you think that the enemy in this case expects you to be in the center of things?”

  “Well, yes, sir. I do,” answered Larken.

  “Do you think that our enemies are a bunch of fools?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then you have to agree that they think they can beat us if we make the expected moves.”

  “Yes, sir. I guess that’s true.”

  “Well,” concluded Jaris, “since they have more information about us than we have about them, I would agree. If we make the obviously correct moves, they will probably defeat us. However, I’m not going to make the obvious moves. I’m going to depend on you and Gahen to make short work of any forces that might be on our flanks and then cut through the back of enemy lines. Once you and Gahen meet, you can attack from behind. The main center is going to slowly fall back into the pass. This will bring more of the Elves into play from the slopes. If you and Gahen can attack from behind, we can catch them in a pinchers maneuver. I don’t think they’ll be prepared for our strongest forces to attack from behind.”

  Larken had to agree but found little comfort in Jaris’ idea to do the wrong things at the right time. Larken fell asleep that night wondering what would happen if it didn’t work.

  * * * * *

  The next two days were spent scouting the area and setting up defensive positions. Groups of mounted Warders and infantry began arriving the second day, with a considerable force present by the third day as Gahen’s cavalry reached camp as Jaris had predicted. Healers came along with the Warders. Larken was dismayed by Melona’s arrival during the afternoon of the third day but wisely said nothing about it to her.

  By the fifth day from their council with Algar, their defensive plans and forces were set. Gahen and Larken camped that night at their assigned positions on the northern and southern edges of the pass. Larken sensed the movement of many Elves on the mountainside behind them. He could also sense the approaching masses of the Dark Forces. Surprisingly, he slept well that night.

  By midmorning the next day, the Dark Forces were within eyesight. The Dark Forces arranged themselves just outside the range of the longbows. For an hour or so, the two groups stared at each other across the now blooming desert. Suddenly, the Dark Forces began the attack began with a quick advance of their Elven archers who sent a volley of arrows toward the three kingdom’s defenders. The volley did little damage since the Warders and infantrymen protected themselves by crouching behind their shields.

  Larken and an older Warder were crou
ching side by side. The Warder shook his head and said, “Tradition over truth. No one ever gains much by shooting arrows first, but they always do. Now catapults, that’s the way to start a battle!”

  Larken was not battle-hardened enough to carry his end of the conversation. His throat and mouth were too dry to permit speech. He was saved from this responsibility, however, by a shout from the Dark Forces. The Warders from the Dark Forces had begun their attack.

  As the Dark Forces came within range, Larken and his peers prepared to defend their position. Suddenly several of their number cried out in agony, clutched their heads, and dropped to the ground unconscious. Larken felt a white fire lance through his head. Without thinking, he pushed it aside and sealed his mind to further intrusion. Reaching out with his Talent, Larken found that the force came from the direction of the attacking forces. Focusing his attention, he mentally saw lances of Talent erupt from pairs of Dark Warders and Healers and head toward Shropanshire’s forces. Stunned, he watched the lances strike down Shropanshire Warders one by one. He heard the cries of pain and saw the confusion of the infantry as they watched their leaders fall.

  Enraged both by the attack and the use of Healer Talent as a weapon, Larken struck out with his own Talent, wading into the attacking force. He struck down with Blade anyone who stood in his way, but he reserved his worst anger for the pairs of Warders and Healers who were striking down his comrades. These he sought out by Talent and seared their minds with Talent fueled by a white-hot anger at the sight of his fellow Warders collapsing in pain and agony. Within a few minutes, Larken had stunned, crippled, or killed at least a dozen of the paired Dark Healers and Warders, but there were just too many of them. His peers were being cut down ruthlessly by the attack. Those who remained conscious were being hacked apart by unpaired attackers. In a very few minutes, their position would be overrun, and all would be lost.

  Larken felt control slipping away from him as he began to panic at the sheer hopelessness of the situation. Less than an hour had elapsed, but his forces were being decimated and pushed back. Those that could stand and resist did not have the strength to physically push the invaders back. The ground was littered with all those who were not fleeing before the attackers. Already Larken was at the back of the attacking force as they swept around him. He struck down all that he could reach, but he could not reach enough. Within a few more minutes, the attack would be over and the Dark Forces would sweep through the pass into Shropanshire, having decimated the Warders and the Elves as they gained entrance. Healers were also being killed indiscriminately. Larken’s gut clenched as he realized that he could do little to stop the invasion and that Melona was in the main path of the invading forces.

  Larken’s panic gave way to desperation. Reaching deep within himself, he gathered all his strength and burst through all the barriers of doubt or fear. Fueling his anger with every piece of energy that he could muster, he fed his fury to his Blade. It burst into a white-hot radiance as the air crackled around it. Swinging his Blade toward the forces ahead of him, Larken cried out his anger as he released his Talent in a continuous, searing, burning slash through the attackers.

  It was as if an invisible scythe cut through the minds of the paired Warders and Healers attackers. Now, it was they who collapsed screaming to the ground. Guided by his Talent, Larken destroyed the minds of all Warder-Healer pairs that he could sense. Soon, no pairs were left standing.

  The tide of the fight turned quickly. The combined forces of the three kingdoms recovered and turned to attack the invaders. They were ruthless in their extermination of all who stood before them. Larken joined in the counterattack. His Blade was white-hot. He ran from one enemy to the next, hardly pausing as his Blade cut through his enemies seemingly without resistance. He did not see people, but enemies. Only when there was no one left to attack did he pause and allow sanity to come back to him.

  Not a single enemy was left standing.

  Larken was stunned by what he had done. His Blade shone with a brilliance that was not returned by his spirit. Up until that time, war had been a theory to Larken. Now, he faced himself as a killer. Suddenly, he was sick to his stomach and retched out his breakfast.

  Gahen grabbed his shoulder from behind and turned him around. “You can be sick later, Larken. We’ve got to get our forces back into shape.”

  Gahen and Larken, after a quick exchange with Jaris, hurried to help to regroup those who could still fight in case another attack came. As they went through the battlefield, they saw that Shropanshire’s forces had been decimated. Only two in five Warders remained, but they were keeping their Elven and infantry charges intact and were somehow maintaining order.

  Finding Dionne at work among the Healers, Larken knelt beside her. “Where is Melona? Is she OK?”

  “She’s OK, but I don’t know where she is. Larken, we can’t help these people. Their minds are closed to us. Our people are dying and we can’t do anything about it!”

  “Dionne, link minds with me. If they can do it to kill, we can do it to Heal.”

  Dionne didn’t respond at first. Larken could tell that she was torn by conflicting fears. There was a clear tradition of avoiding the combination of Warder and Healer Talent. Also, she had just seen the effect of using that combination as a weapon. Additionally, all Healers were constantly reminded to be conservative in their efforts to Heal, since it was easier to make an injury worse than it was to Heal. Plus, somewhere in the background of Dionne’s mind was the never-resolved suspicion that Larken’s Talent was tainted by the Dark One. All her training and instincts told her not to attempt to use Larken’s power to try to Heal. On the other hand, Warders were dying of mental shock around her.

  She looked at Larken, then at the dying Warders and made her decision. “All right,” she said. “How do we do it?”

  “Let me create the link if I can. We should be able to since we know each other and since you have empathic Talent. Then you guide my Talent to Heal.”

  Larken lowered his mental walls and reached out for Dionne. He felt her mind link with his. Guided by Dionne, Larken reached out for the Warder that Dionne had been working on. Dionne/Larken used Larken’s strength to pry into his mind and found it weak and shocked. Using Larken’s Talent and power, Dionne fed strength, reassurance, and Healing into the Warder’s mind. Gradually the shock was lessened, and, when the worst of the damage was repaired, the Warder eased into a deep sleep.

  Larken and Dionne repeated the procedure countless times until both were exhausted. Although the union of Larken’s Talent with Dionne’s had Healed most that had been brought to them, there had been one tragedy that had almost torn their resolve apart. One Warder had reacted in terror at their attempt to enter his mind. Shrieking mentally, he had died in a paroxysm of fright. Dionne and Larken had been shocked and dismayed but had gone on to Heal the next Warder.

  Finally, Dionne unlinked their minds, and Larken wrapped his mind once more with impenetrable walls and fell instantly into a deep sleep.

  * * * * *

  The next morning, Larken found himself groggy, dull, and numb. His body was refreshed by the sleep, but his mind was troubled and unsettled. Larken did not want to think about what he had done the previous day, but memories of his Blade slicing through bodies kept flashing through his mind, leaving him shaken. Even the memories of the Healings that he had accomplished with Dionne made him uneasy. The experience of prying forcibly into someone else’s mind had felt like a violation. During previous day’s battle, he had felt almost omnipotent. This morning, he felt guilty and ashamed.

  His Talent had left him. He could not even to sense those whose voices he heard nearby. When he finally arose, however, he found that his physical strength was still with him. The average Warder was not so lucky, and many of them were unable to do more than stumble weakly around the camp, moving from one resting place to another. The infantry was in even worse shape, and an entire city of tents had been erected for those who could not be safely mo
ved. The Elves also had many injured, but they had taken their injured into the privacy of the mountains.

  As Larken made his way to Jaris’ tent to report in and to receive the orders for the day, even the most severely injured managed to raise a fist in the sign of victory when they saw him walk by. Unbeknown to him, Larken’s pre-breakfast morning stroll through the camp provided a general lifting of spirits and morale as the injured and uninjured alike saw their champion unscathed. Larken returned the salutes and stopped to say a word or two with several before moving on.

  Melona found Larken as he approached Jaris’ command tent and dragged him off to the mess tent for some breakfast. Larken had been doubtful as to the proper course for a sub-commander: Should he eat breakfast before reporting to Jaris or not? Melona informed him that he was under orders from Jaris to eat a hearty breakfast, since Jaris believed that the morning’s discussion would take up most of the morning.

  Jaris was correct.

  Chapter 18: Battle

  “What I don’t understand,” said Gahen for at least the third time in Jaris’ morning planning session, “is why this is all happening now. The Dread King, if that’s who he is, has evidently built his forces back up. I understand that. But I can’t believe that his rebirth and Larken’s Talent happening at the same time are just by accident.”

  “Neither do we,” said Eleas. “There is a greater plan, greater than all of us and the Dark One.”

  “Then can we get some more help from this great plan?” asked Gahen. “If this is some epic battle, I don’t feel much like a victor here. If I remember the stories about greater plans correctly, there was always a bunch of heroes running around saving the day. I sure would like to have some here now.”

  “I suspect,” said Amanda, “that, if you went back in history and talked to those heroes, you would find them feeling very much like you do now. History tends to forget the horrors and remember the valor. No one wants to hear about a hero that couldn’t hold down his breakfast.”