The Dread King: Book One of The Larken Chronicles

by R. L. Poston

  “But I still don’t see how this will help that much,” said Soran. “I don’t want to be a naysayer, but we can’t possibly eliminate more than ten or twenty Warders, and it will seriously deplete our Talents. It’ll take a couple of days to recover. It would be more sensible to wait until they come into range. Then we can be more efficient.”

  “I agree,” said Larken patiently. “But we don’t believe that the Warders and Healers will be as tired as operating alone. Also, we are looking for things about Talent that we don’t know yet. I believe that, with a large concentration of Talent, we may find that we actually begin to pick up more efficiencies than you suppose. If we use six or seven very strong Talents, we might find that we get more effect than the sum of the Talents involved.”

  Soran followed Larken’s words carefully, nodding along with them. As Larken finished, however, a frown crossed his face. “Any proof of this?” he asked. “Has anyone ever tested it?”

  “I have experienced something like this in an Elven meld,” answered Larken. “But, no, it’s not been tested. We aim to do that now. Are you with us?”

  “I’m always on your side,” said Soran. “Especially when history is being made.”

  “History,” said King Frederick, “is being made all the time. Now is just one of those times that people take notice of it.”

  “Yes, sire,” said Soran. “You’ve been trying to teach me that for as long as I’ve known you. Someday, I promise, I’ll learn it. Anyway,” he continued, grinning at his jibe at King Frederick, “how do we do this?”

  “Melona and I will attempt to locate a target,” said Larken. “After we’ve located a target, other pairs will join in and follow our lead. It’s important that you follow us. We’ve found that most Warder-Healer pairs can sense which target another pair has selected, so you should be able to do this, but we’ve never tried this and don’t know if it’s going to work. It’s going to be like an Elven meld. If we are able to destroy the first target and I can’t direct the meld, then just drop out for a moment until we find the next target. That will be slower and more draining, but we’re hoping that I can direct the meld. Any questions?”

  “I hate to appear dumb, but what exactly is a meld?” asked Soran.

  “Oh, sorry,” said Larken. “I forgot that you missed our planning session. The Elves have a ceremony in which they join their minds together to make important decisions or share knowledge. It’s called a meld. I’ve participated in a couple of them. The individuals become part of something other than the sum of their minds or Talents. The meld becomes greater than the sum of the individual parts.”

  Joining hands with Melona, Larken began the process of creating the mind lance. Larken searched for and found a few Dark Force Talents at the edge of his range. Locating the strongest Warder-Healer pair that he could, he locked onto that Talent. However, he did not try to attack it. He knew that even his Talent was not strong enough at that range to do more than annoy the pair they had located. Instead he waited for the others to join him.

  At last, he felt the presence of other pairs of Warders and Healers joining their Talent to Melona’s and his. Something resembling a meld grew from their combination. While this meld did not have the sharing of thoughts or memories that an Elven meld did, it did have the sharing of Talents. As each pair added their Talent to the meld, their ability to sense the enemy’s Talents grew stronger. As the last pair came into the meld, their ability seemed to leap forward, and they were able to clearly sense an enormous number of the Dark Force Talents. Larken realized they had crossed some threshold at which the strength of their combined Talent was many times greater than the sum of the parts.

  After the last pair of their group had fully joined, Larken tested his ability to control the meld. He found that, while he did not have direct control of the meld, he could coordinate the action of the melded Talents. He could direct an action, but it took a moment for each pair to respond. This was not nearly as much control as he had desired, but it was not nearly as bad as he had feared it would be.

  Directing the attention of the meld to the first pair Warder-Healer that he had locked on, he gave the command to lance the Talent. The result nearly carried his breath away. The combined meld ripped through the sensed Talents with almost no resistance. Larken knew that they had not only stilled the Talents, but also killed both the Warder and Healer instantly. However, he sensed that their meld could not wield that much Talent for long without hurting themselves. Therefore, he asked the meld to follow his lead as to the extent of Talent to use.

  Locating the next target, he requested only a small portion of the available Talent. Again, it was too much, but not nearly as much as the first attempt. Now, having two trials to use, Larken could calibrate the strength that they needed. The attack on the third Talent was successful and used only the amount of Talent they needed to effectively to silence the target’s Talent. After that, things got easier and quicker.

  Target after target fell to their thrusts. Their coordination grew, and both their speed and efficiency grew with it. The meld became an awesome weapon. They fell into a rhythm of seeking a target, locking on the target, and thrusting—seek, lock, thrust—seek, lock, thrust. Everyone in the meld lost track of his or her individual identity. The only thing that existed for them was the meld, and the only purpose of the meld was to still the enemy’s Talent. The world, for them, became a field of sensed Talent and lancing energy.

  The end, when it did come, came hard and fast. Like an inner explosion, suddenly the meld collapsed. It seemed that the world collapsed with it and that all the pain and exhaustion that had been stored since the beginning of time roared into their minds. The lucky ones simply fainted. The stronger Talents, such as Larken, Melona, King Frederick, Gahen, Estron, and Taz, suffered without the aid of oblivion. The pain was incredible, but worse was the total exhaustion. Gahen didn’t even have the strength to lift his face from the dirt. He was suffocating because he had fallen facedown into some soft sand, but he could not even turn his head.

  Fortunately, Healers were on hand to help them. One of them saw Gahen’s predicament and quickly rolled him over onto his back. All the participants of the meld were loaded onto stretchers and taken to the Healers’ tent for recovery. Each one received special attention. Even so, several of the meld participants came close to death.

  They would learn later that they had caused chaos in the enemy camp. Well over one hundred Warder-Healers pairs and a hundred other single Talents eliminated, their Talents stilled. Many of the stricken died, and most of the survivors would never recover their Talents. The Dark Forces withdrew so that no Warder camped within five miles of the front lines. Their work had cost the enemy at least a full day. The Alliance forces were quick to spread the news of what had happened, and a holiday atmosphere developed along the lines. In the evening, when Larken and Melona were able to weakly walk through the camp, they were greeted as heroes.

  “Larken,” said Melona when they were out of hearing from their admirers, “you realize that everyone thinks that what we did is our new secret weapon. They expect us to use it again to wipe out the Dark Forces.”

  “I know,” replied Larken softly. “And it will be at least three days until we can do it again. You and I recovered OK, but the others weren’t so fortunate.”

  “King Frederick did OK,” said Melona. “He’s up and around.”

  “He’s up and around because he’s the king. He knows he has to be up, but his Talent isn’t fully back yet.”

  “How can you tell?” asked Melona. “He hasn’t said anything to anyone about that.”

  “I don’t know how I can tell,” said Larken. “Recently, I’ve just been able to sense another’s Talent, and his isn’t back yet.”

  “You keep coming up with new Talents,” said Melona. “Can you sense mine?”

  “Of course,” said Larken. “And you’re not even halfway back to your normal strength. Neither am I, but, even if we were, do you think
that you could stand another meld right now?”

  “No, I see what you mean. I don’t think I could force myself into another meld. It’s more than just the pain; it’s what we did. We killed or silenced a lot of people, and I don’t think that I could do it again right now. Maybe in a few days; but definitely not now. So, what do we do? If we don’t use our new weapon, everyone will get suspicious.”

  “I don’t know,” said Larken. “First of all, we have to think of a rational explanation of why we’re not out there blasting away. Then, we have to think of a better way of doing it. Right now, however, we have to recuperate and get back to normal.”

  * * * * *

  The next day, the Dark Forces did not attack, giving the Alliance a much-needed day of rest. On the falling day, however, they reinitiated their attacks at dawn with redoubled ferocity, pouring all their resources into the battle. The Alliance forces responded with matching ferocity. The carnage mounted as bodies fell quickly on both sides. By midday, exhaustion was once again apparent among the defenders. Larken, along with the other leadership, was continually asked when the meld was to be brought into plan again. By midafternoon, the questions of the defenders had turned to pleas, and Larken was beginning to receive increasing angry looks. By nightfall, the mood among the defenders was as dark as the night.

  At the evening planning session, only Algar seemed unmoved. Gahen had not yet joined the group, but the discussion had already begun.

  “I have a report from Shropanshire,” Algar was saying. “The Dark Forces are being held.”

  “Are they being pushed back?” asked King Frederick.

  “No,” responded Algar.

  “How long can the Shropanshire forces hold?” asked Frederick.

  “That answer is not relevant,” Larken said. “They can hold longer than we can. With the increase in the attacks, we won’t be able to hold through the week.”

  “Tomorrow at best,” said Gahen, who had entered the room in time to hear the last exchange. “They haven’t stopped for the night. They’re going to continue building the causeway through the night. They’ve also brought more catapults to bear. We can’t put enough men near the position to defend it. At the rate they’re driving their people, they’ll break through tomorrow.”

  No one spoke as Gahen sat at the table and began to fill his plate with the food. Everyone watched him as he helped himself to a large chunk of dry bread.

  “And you’re just going to eat?” asked Melona.

  Gahen paused with a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. “Would you prefer that I not eat?” he asked. “Would that help? Maybe the Dread King will fall down in a faint if he knew that I was not eating? Perhaps, if I starved for the entire night, the Dark Forces would reconsider and go home?”

  “You’re upset,” said Melona.

  “No,” said Gahen in a growl. “I’m not upset. We’re going to be overrun and slaughtered. I’m just making sure that I don’t die hungry.”

  “Enough,” said Larken quietly. “King Frederick, your ideas?”

  “None,” said Frederick. “I would advise retreat, except that it is impossible in this case. There is nowhere better to make a stand than here. We can do more harm to the Dark Forces if we fight to the last man here than if we try to retreat and re-form somewhere else.”

  “I agree,” said Larken. “There’s nowhere else that gives us the strategic position of this plateau. We could save lives by retreating, but we would end up surrendering the kingdoms and fighting a guerrilla war. We need to defeat them here. King Frederick and I have already issued orders to evacuate all noncombatants.”

  “Defeat them?” asked Gahen incredulously. “They outnumber us three to one still. They’re going to overrun our position tomorrow. We can’t try the meld again because we’re not recovered from the first one. Besides, when we did finally collapse from that, the entire leadership of this army would be gone. And you think that we can defeat them?”

  “Of course,” said Larken. “Otherwise, I’d be negotiating a surrender.”

  “OK, I’ll be the idiot who asks,” said Gahen. “How?”

  “With the Source,” said Larken. “We link with the Source.”

  “No,” interjected Melona. “It’s too dangerous.” But her voice trailed off even as her words ended.

  Larken simply raised an eyebrow. No one spoke for a full minute. No one needed to. All of them knew that they were at that point where only one option was left. If they tried it and it failed, they would be in no worse straits than they were now. They had spent many hours going over hundreds of ideas. Some, such as the idea of mini catapults, had been implemented and had proven successful. These were small but strong enough to throw a small load of rocks over the edge of the plateau. Using the height of the plateau, they were able to rain volleys of rocks down upon attacking forces. Plus, the small catapults could be moved quickly from position to position to break up attacks on various positions. However, as effective as they were, they could not turn the tide of attackers.

  Other ideas had been tried and had failed. Among these was the idea of using skeleton staffs at places where attacks were light and responding to shifts in attacks with mobile forces. This had proven to be almost disastrous. The enemy had shown an inspired ability to shift to lightly defended positions quickly. The mobile forces of the Alliance had proven effective once they were in position, but no one had counted on the confusion caused by withdrawing forces from one wall and moving them to another. The first few attempts at this had convinced them that this idea would never work on the battlefield.

  Other ideas had been discarded right away or after further discussion. No idea had been found that would significantly change the outcome of the attack. Now they were out of ideas. Only one choice remained.

  Algar was the one to break the silence. “Who will be part of the meld? Numbers won’t matter.”

  “No, they won’t,” said Larken. “If we reach the Source, the number of us in contact with it won’t matter.”

  “But, Larken,” Melona began, “won’t we just suffer the same thing as when we tried the meld yesterday?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Larken. “We won’t be using our own Talent. We will be only directing the Source. I don’t think that we will feel the same exhaustion and strain as we did in our meld.”

  “But if we do?” asked Gahen.

  “Then we will die,” answered Melona for Larken. “The amount of Talent that we will be using will be a hundred times more than we used before, but I’d rather die connected to the Source than at the hand of the Dark Forces.”

  “Anyway,” continued Larken, “I think that we only need four people in this meld. Friend Algar, you will represent the Elves and will bring their Talent.”

  “I will be honored,” said Algar. “Perhaps our life-sight will aid in the search for the Source.”

  “Or for the Dark Forces,” muttered Gahen.

  “Melona will represent the Healers and their Talent,” continued Larken. “She’s their strongest Talent. Besides, I don’t think that I could exclude her.”

  “Wise man,” commented Gahen.

  “I’ll lead the meld, and you, Gahen, will represent the Warding Talent.”

  “Me?” exclaimed Gahen in true surprise. “Why not King Frederick? He is more Talented. I mean, I don’t mind, but wouldn’t he be the better choice?”

  “He would be, except for one thing. If we fail, someone will have to lead the army. If there is any hope of any of the troops surviving, we will need the king to lead them, if only in surrender.”

  “Agreed,” said King Frederick. “If you fail, surrender may save the lives of some.”

  “So,” asked Gahen, “when do we do this?”

  “Tomorrow, after breakfast,” answered Larken.

  “Why tomorrow?” asked Gahen. “Why not now?”

  “I don’t know,” answered Larken. “I really don’t know why, but I’ve got a feeling about this.”

  “How do
we prepare?” asked Algar.

  “By everyone getting sleep and rest,” answered Larken. “We’ll meet over breakfast to complete our plans. Everyone should get a good night’s rest. Except,” Larken said, looking at King Frederick apologetically, “King Frederick, who is going to have to plan for the defense, the counterattack, or the surrender, whichever is needed.”

  “Agreed again,” said King Frederick, rising. “I’ll see you at breakfast. Until then, be assured that we will hold the defenses and will make the best plans possible.”

  “A good man,” said Algar as the king left.

  * * * * *

  The next morning began worse than anyone expected. The Dark Forces had made more progress than expected on the causeway. Only a narrow dip separated the walls of the defenders and the mass of the attackers. The carnage on both sides was devastating, but the attackers had the advantage of numbers.

  Larken, Melona, Algar, and Gahen had gathered near the site with several Healers. The Healers were trying vainly to ignore the cries of pain and shock that came from the men only a few dozen feet away from them.

  “OK,” concluded Larken. “Everyone knows what to do. Don’t interfere with us unless we all pass out. Then you can try to bring us around.”

  “What if we can’t bring you back to consciousness?” asked one of the Healers.

  “Then we will have failed,” said Larken. “In that case, you must help others escape.”

  Larken felt slightly guilty about this last suggestion because he knew that, if they failed to contact the Source, there would be no escape. After Melona had fallen asleep last night, he had sought out King Frederick for a late-night conference.

  “We both know,” King Frederick had said, “that there will be no escape, and surrender will mean the slaughter of all those who have lifted arms against the Dark Ones.”

  “I know,” said Larken.

  “I also know,” said Gahen, laughing as his sudden appearance caused both Larken and King Frederick to draw their Blades. Clapping a hand on Larken’s shoulder, he grinned. “You really don’t think that your pretty speech about a good night’s sleep was believable? Do you?”