The Dread King: Book One of The Larken Chronicles

by R. L. Poston

  “Then, why don’t we?” asked Melona.

  “Because,” said Taz, “it’s still true that men find it easier to Ward and women find it easier to Heal. I believe that we could all learn to use both kinds of Talents, but I’m not sure that it would be wise. Combing the Talents gave our enemies the mind lance. If everyone could learn how to use both Talents, could someone make a mind lance by themselves? Larken did something like that yesterday. Would you want everybody to be able to do that?”

  “But we’re talking about do just that,” said Melona. “We’ll be teaching Warders how to make a terrible weapon.”

  “Well, not exactly,” said Leona. “But close enough to keep an eye on it.”

  “Besides that,” said Dionne, “we’ll lose our ability to read their thoughts, and they just might gain the ability to read ours.”

  Taz sniffed. “I always thought that particular Talent to be immoral anyway.”

  “That’s just because you can't do it very well,” Dionne said.

  “Ladies!” interjected Amanda. “If we’re fair, I suspect that Larken has given us the key also to why Taz could not develop much strength in that Talent.”

  “Why?” said Taz. “It’s not for lack of trying.”

  “It’s because you didn’t think it was right,” said Melona. “Right, Amanda?”

  “I think so,” said Amanda. “Remember Larken couldn’t touch his Talent while he was so afraid of his anger. I suspect that Taz couldn’t fully develop the telepathy Talent because she felt that somehow it was wrong.”

  “But it’s not wrong,” said Dionne. “Or does that make me just evil?”

  “No, not evil,” said Amanda. “It’s neither wrong or right. You thought it right, so you could do it. Taz though it wrong, so she couldn’t. I wonder though…”

  “Wonder what?” asked Dionne.

  “Oh, I just wonder if anyone could develop Talent if they thought that they could and they also thought it was right. I wonder if what keeps most people from developing Talent is the feeling that it somehow is wrong—or maybe just not real.”

  “Oh, that would be great,” said Dionne. “Thousands of Talented people lancing each other for the least insult. We’d never manage that. I vote we keep a lid on this.”

  “And I vote,” said Taz, “that we save the three kingdoms and teach our Warders how to shield.”

  “We really don’t have a choice. We must defend the three kingdoms,” said Amanda, effectively ending the discussion.

  * * * * *

  “You really think,” asked Jaris, as he and Amanda walked through the camp, “that you’ll be finished training them all by noon?”

  “Looks that way,” said Amanda. “It’s actually easier than even Leona thought. It’s like anything else we try—it gets faster with practice.”

  “Then we should be ready,” said Jaris. “It’ll still be a tough fight though. However, I can’t see us losing if we manage to pull the teeth from that weapon.”

  “But remember,” said Amanda, “it won’t eliminate the weapon. A strong Talent will still be able to overcome a weak Talent.”

  “But it won’t be one for one. It takes a much stronger Talent to best another Talent. A weaker Talent can successfully resist a slightly stronger Talent. So, the defenders should have the advantage.”

  “Hopefully,” said Amanda. “But while that may be true for normal Warding Talent, it might not be true for this mind lance.”

  “Let’s hope it’s true,” said Jaris. “I’m guessing that Larken won’t be able to strike back with what he came up with before.”

  “I think you’re right, Jaris. I don’t think that he’ll let himself use that ability again. He still feels bad about what he did in the first attack. Like it or not, we’re probably going to have to fight using normal Talent.” She chuckled. “My, I’m beginning to sound like a warmonger. That’s quite out of character for a Healer.”

  Draping an arm around her shoulders for a friendly hug, Jaris said, “Before this is over, we’re going to be doing a lot of things out of character.”

  Looking up at him, Amanda smiled. “I’m actually looking forward to that.”

  * * * * *

  One week later, they were almost ready. The men from Grealand and Norland had arrived the day before and were still being positioned. The Warders had all been trained in the new technique of mental shielding, and the normal difficulties and problems that accompanied such a large force were being addressed.

  Updated information predicted that the attack would begin that day.

  “This is the part I hate,” said Gahen to Larken as they met to confer after they had toured the lines.

  “What’s that?” asked Larken.

  “Waiting,” answered Gahen. “I can do anything but wait.”

  “Gahen,” laughed Larken, “you don’t have a choice. You can’t do anything but wait.”

  “That’s what burns me,” said Gahen. “It’s downright disgusting.”

  “Uh-oh,” said Larken. “It looks like you won’t have to wait for long.” He pointed to a wave of activity that followed a messenger’s progress through the camp.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said the messenger, coming to attention before Gahen. “The commander wishes to see you and Sub-commander Larken immediately, sir. The attacking forces are within sight.”

  “Great!” said Gahen. “Let’s go, Larken. Finally!”

  * * * * *

  That afternoon, Gahen and Larken stared at the line of attackers across the desert-turned-prairie. To meet the larger force that they expected, Jaris had changed strategy and had placed Gahen and Larken together in the center of the defensive line.

  “Didn’t we do this last week?” asked Larken.

  “Yeah, but that was just a taste. This is the big show,” returned Gahen. “You sure this shield thing is going to work?”

  “Nope,” said Larken.

  “What?” asked Gahen.

  “I said, ‘No.’”

  “What do you mean, ‘No’?”

  “I mean that I’m not sure it will work,” said Larken as he continued to study the opposing line with both his normal vision and his Elven sight.

  “How unsure are you?” asked Gahen.

  “Does it matter?” asked Larken.

  “I guess not,” murmured Gahen. “You know, Larken, you’re getting tougher. I’m not sure I like that.”

  “Me neither,” said Larken. “Anyway, here they come!”

  This attack began as the previous one had. Waves of arrows descended as the enemy lines surged forward. The three kingdom Warders soon felt the effects of the mind lance as the Dark Forces sought to punch their way through the defense. This time, however, only a few of the weaker Warders were incapacitated.

  Although some of the defensive lines bent, and some were momentarily overrun, they largely held. Jaris had expected some parts of the line to falter, so he had held reserves to plug the holes as they developed. The attack continued for hours with no pause as the rear of the attacking forces ground its own front into the defenders. Both the attackers and the defenders were hindered by the bodies that were piling up around them. Fortunately for the three kingdoms, most of the bodies were from the Dark Forces.

  Larken and Gahen fought side by side at the center of the battle. More than once, they fought back-to-back as the lines surged back and forth. Their Blades glowed with a blue brilliance as they slaughtered all that fought against them. The strength of their Talents was as almost effective as the steel of their Blades, momentarily dazing even the strongest Dark Warders and Elves that escaped, so that they were easy prey for the three kingdom forces that backed up the two sub-commanders.

  By early evening, the attackers had been decimated. Only a remnant of the Dark Forces was left to retreat across the desert.

  * * * * *

  “Our defense against their mind lance was a total success,” summarized Jaris to his Warder leadership as they met in the center of the battlefield. “A
nd, lucky for us, they had no fallback plan.”

  “What now?” asked Tragen. “Do we pursue them?”

  “No,” said Jaris. “We’ll leave a camp here, and we will post some sentries a few days’ ride into the desert, but I don’t see the need to track down a few hundred stragglers. Our main task now is to prepare for the next attack.”

  “The next attack?” questioned Larken. “Is there one coming?”

  “Would you accept this as your final defeat if you were on the other side?” asked Jaris.

  “No, I guess not,” said Larken. “But why did they use such a small force? That still doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “This was your test, Sub-commander Larken,” said Jaris. “Ours will be next.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Larken.

  “He means,” interjected Tragen, “that you were the target of the invasion, not Shropanshire. This was your test, Larken, not ours. Most of us believe that you were the real target. If you had failed, the attack would have succeeded. If you had been corrupted, the war would have been over. A full army could not have gotten across the Seagrave. Only a small force could have made it across with any speed. This was your test, and you passed. Now the rest of us are going to have to pass ours. The next invasion will be real, and big, and nasty, and we’re not ready. Right, sir?”

  “But we will be ready,” promised Jaris. “We’ll be more than ready.”

  * * * * *

  The journey back to Sarkis was uneventful except for the number of times that they were met as conquering heroes. Each village they approached wanted to celebrate the encounter as a major victory. Jaris grew increasingly frustrated with his inability to communicate the inconclusiveness of the encounter. No matter what he said, the villagers along the way could not grasp the concept that no significant harm had been done to the Dark Forces. Jaris finally gave up and gave his men permission to join in the celebrations.

  “No sense in denying our troops a celebration, whether it is deserved or not,” he remarked to Gahen one evening.

  “No sir,” replied Gahen. “But what about denying your officers the celebration?”

  “I haven’t excluded them. I expect them to celebrate, too,” answered Jaris.

  “Everyone?” asked Gahen.

  “Everyone,” said Jaris. “But why are you asking that? Do you have something in mind? Or are you just being irritating?”

  “I’m always irritating, but I also have something in mind,” replied Gahen. “But first, are you sure that all officers should join in the celebration?”

  “Of course,” barked Jaris. “You’re right—you are irritating. Would you kindly tell me what’s on your mind before I bar you from the celebrations?”

  “I was wondering if you would accompany Taz and me to the celebrations,” replied Gahen.

  “Me? I can’t go. I’ve got reports to work on, strategy to review, and we’re not ready for whatever else is coming, and something is coming,” Jaris retorted.

  “And you’re killing yourself with worry about a situation that you can’t do anything about tonight,” answered Gahen. “Look, Link, you and I have known each other more than a normal lifetime. You’ve been my superior officer ever since I was a Warder. More importantly, you’ve been a real friend. I’ve never begrudged you the fact that you could grasp the whole picture faster and better than I could. One of the reasons why I’ve enjoyed serving under you is that I could always trust your judgment on the priorities. But lately, you’ve lost it.”

  Gahen’s use of Jaris’ nickname signaled the seriousness even more than his words. Jaris had long ago learned the value of silence when he was unsure of his footing, and he simply waited for Gahen to continue.

  “Link,” Gahen continued, “ever since that battle at the pass, you’ve not said a cheerful word to any one of us. You haven’t smiled, haven’t laughed, and haven’t slept more than two hours a night. You act like these villages are committing blasphemy when they want to celebrate. And, worst of all, you can’t think of anything but what the Dread King is going to do. Look, Link, there’s nothing that you can do about the Dread King now, and you’re not going to figure it all out tonight. But we need you to lead us. Right now, you’re just leading us back to Sarkis. We need someone to lead us beyond that.”

  For a moment Jaris was too perplexed to respond, but when it became obvious that Gahen was not going to continue, Jaris had to admit, “I’m not following you. What do you mean, ‘lead us beyond that?’ Right now, that’s as far as we’re going.”

  “Oh, no, it isn’t,” replied Gahen. “Link, do you remember what our instructors used to tell us the first duty of a leader was?”

  “Sure,” replied Jaris. “The first duty of a leader is to inspire confidence in those he leads.”

  “And, right now, you’re not inspiring confidence,” said Gahen. “You’re leading us back to Sarkis, but we’ve got a whole war to fight. We’ve won the first engagement, but you’re denying the victory. We turned aside the Dark Forces who tried to use a new weapon on us, but you’re acting like there’s no way to fight them. You’ve gotten so caught up in the legend of the Dread King that you can’t see that Larken beat him at his own game and then we clobbered his invasion. You’re acting like we’re already defeated when we’ve been winning all the engagements.

  “Maybe we don’t have a plan yet, and maybe we don’t know who the enemy really is or what he is going to do next, but we’ve managed to beat him so far. I think that a celebration is in order, but in denying it to yourself, you’re denying it to your men.”

  Jaris was silent for a long time as he weighed Gahen’s words. Finally, he nodded at Gahen and said, “All right, when you’re right, you’re right. Let’s go make a celebration.”

  Chapter 19: Preparation

  By the time they reached Sarkis two and a half weeks later, plans had already been made to assemble and train the largest army that the three kingdoms had ever seen. Each kingdom was drafting every able-bodied person that could be spared. Commander Jaris had set an aggressive goal of his forces being trained, equipped, and in place within six months.

  “They’re little more than boys, Larken,” complained Melona one night at supper in their apartment. “They don’t have any idea of what is expected of them, and they’re scared witless.”

  “I know,” said Larken. “But would you rather us leave them at home and risk losing the next attack? The next attack won’t be a test. It will be the real battle.”

  “I don’t mean to say that there’s any other way,” answered Melona. “I just feel sorry for them.”

  “Why?” asked Larken. “You didn’t feel sorry for me.”

  “Larken! I did feel sorry for you. A long time before I knew you had Talent. I just couldn’t show it because you were so busy being sorry for yourself!”

  “I’m sorry,” apologized Larken. “I’ve just been on edge lately. I never knew that being a Warder was so difficult. Just when we solve one problem, another fifty crop up. Is it the same for Healers?”

  “Worse,” said Melona. But then smiling, she added, “But being married to you makes it worth it. It’s not every girl that gets to marry the future king of Shropanshire.”

  “Whoa!” said Larken. “I don’t think we ought to talk about that.”

  “Why not?” asked Melona, her eyes twinkling. “Everyone else is taking bets on it.”

  “Bets? What bets?”

  “About when King Andreas will resign and the Council will name you king. Most folks think it will be in less than a month.”

  “What?!” Larken sprang out of his chair to pace the room.

  “Oh, sit down, Larken,” Melona said. “If you don’t know that, you’re the only one who doesn’t.”

  “Are you serious?” asked Larken incredulously. “People actually expect King Andreas to resign and make me king within a month?”

  “Oh, Larken,” sighed Melona. “How can you be so blind? Don’t you see what is happening?”

/>   “What? What’s happening?” asked Larken.

  Just then there was a knock at the door. Larken went to answer it and found Taz and Gahen. Taz took one look at Larken and asked, “Something wrong? Did we come at a bad time?”

  “No, no.” Larken waved them into the apartment. “Melona is just having flights of fancy.”

  “Sounds serious,” said Taz. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” said Larken. “Please sit down. Melona’s just having daydreams.”

  Melona came into the room with coffee. “I’m just trying to educate my husband in politics. He doesn’t know that he’s going to be the next king soon.”

  “Melona! I can’t believe that you said that!” barked Larken.

  “Are you sure, Melona?” asked Taz. “I always thought that Larken was rather intelligent. How could he not know?”

  “Taz! Is this a joke?” exclaimed Larken.

  “No, Larken. It isn’t a joke. It’s real serious,” said Gahen. “Sit down, and I’ll explain the facts of life to you.”

  Melona had to pull Larken down onto the couch since he was too stunned to move.

  “OK, he’s sitting,” she said. “Tell him what’s going on.”

  “What’s going on, as you put it, is an unavoidable conflict,” said Gahen. “For centuries, the strongest Talent has always been the king. That’s both cause and effect. Talent seems to create the ability to rule and vice versa. So, whenever a strong Talent developed, that person was trained to become king. Out of necessity, the king has to rule. That means that he has to have the strongest Talent.”

  “But wasn’t Henkri stronger than King Andreas?” asked Larken. “I’ve heard that no one was ever as strong as Henkri.”

  “That was true until he abdicated to Andreas. Then his Talent declined. That’s normal. One of the things that happens with leaders is that their Talent is increased by the Talent of those reporting to them. When someone becomes king, he draws Talent from all those in the kingdom.”