Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One)

by Julian Saheed

Patches of grass flew in their wake as Esree galloped along the rain soaked fields. Thibalt revelled in the cool wind that rushed past his ears and stretched out his arms in the saddle.

  After Christill had left him, Thibalt had approached the Queen's soldiers to enlist in the Militia of Feldom. At the tables Guard Captain Falneren had spotted him and approached. Thibalt's history then came back to hinder him as the Guard Captain refused to allow him to join the Militia.

  "Duke Poleus may have pardoned you and your brother, but that does not mean that I trust you," he had said. "Whilst I have a say in the matter, you will not be allowed to join our armed forces."

  Falneren's decision had been firm and Thibalt, not wishing to anger the Guard Captain, left the soldiers regretfully. With nowhere else to go he had made the decision to travel to Precedin. To see the frontline of the struggle for himself. If he could not join the effort, he would at least behold it.

  The further into the East that he rode, the flatter the land grew. Thibalt made his first encounter with Nyrune's hold over the mainland weather as the lush rolling fields morphed into rocky plains over the space of a few miles. The change had come about so quickly that Thibalt had paused in his saddle and turned around in confusion. The fresh sea breeze had been brushing his neck moments before, as Esree galloped through the fertile fields. Then the warm sun had taken hold of the land, sapping the moisture from the very air. Esree now dodged between the dry rocky formations scattered amongst the landscape, where what seemed seconds ago, she had been tearing up wet grass in her path.

  Then, as the thick blanket of night clouded the sky on the fourth day of riding, Thibalt found himself in the Pauper's Cave tavern. The road from Andron passed through countless small towns and hamlets offering reputable inns and a warm meal. Thus Thibalt had spent many of the cold nights in a small tavern, mingling with other travellers and locals. He stepped into the common room of the Pauper's Cave and shook out his sodden cloak. The tavern was empty, but for a few elderly men drinking away their troubles.

  Thibalt walked up to the bar and sat himself next to a hunched man whose hair dangled loosely over his face. The man looked up and smiled. "How are you young man?" he asked in an ancient voice.

  Thibalt was amazed at how alert the man seemed. "As well as one could be," he replied. "Though I have seen better weather."

  The man let out a raucous laugh and slapped Thibalt on the back. "Thank Nyrune for that! My name is Oldus. For a copper I will tell you anything you wish to know. And believe me, I know more than most."

  Thibalt studied the man, wondering whether he could trust him. He seemed harmless enough and he could do with some friendly conversation after the long ride. He pulled out a copper coin and handed it to the old man.

  "What story shall I weave for you tonight?" asked Oldus.

  Thibalt quickly thought of a lie to conceal his past and replied, "I have never been this far east, Oldus," replied Thibalt, somewhat cautiously. "I spent most my time out at sea and in the small village I call home. Tell me something of this region."

  Oldus slapped Thibalt once more on the back. "Ah, a fisherman. You should have told me," he laughed. "I have seen plenty of men that spent more time out over the water than on dry land. I will tell you everything you need to know." He cleared his throat dramatically and began. "Though Feldom is wide at its broadest borders, the differences between the east, west and the north are momentous. Nyrune's influence over the weather means that over small distances the climate changes dramatically."

  "So I have noticed," mentioned Thibalt.

  "You have seen nothing. In Auldney it grows so cold that you need to be careful not to close your eyes too long, lest they freeze shut," he said with a chuckle. "Then a few days ride south you will find yourself stripping the clothes from your back as you endure the heat of the scorching sun."

  "What purpose does this all serve?"

  "You will have to ask Nyrune that question, my lad. Us mere mortals cannot understand the choices the gods make."

  "Nyrune does not seem to burden the Karmanians with such unusual weather," said Thibalt.

  "Ah Karmena!" exclaimed Oldus. "The nation within the great Misty Forest. I have never stepped foot within the forest, yet they say that it is a wonder to behold. Nyrune provides her people with all that they might ever need."

  "That seems unjust to me," said Thibalt.

  "Let me tell you something. Nyrune's influence over our weather may be a hidden blessing. You see the Karmanians are all the same. Here in Feldom, as a result of the segregated climate, each city holds its own people, and each is as different as the next. And I for one find that we are better for it."

  Thibalt could see the man's reasoning. The diversity amongst the Feldonians, though troublesome, was one of their most admired features. He accepted a bowl of stew that the innkeeper had handed him and ate greedily. Although Oldus's voice was tainted with the mark of too much drink, he did appear to know a great deal.

  Oldus continued. "But you wished to hear about the East. The foundations of Feldom were of course created here in the East. The first children of Skiye created a great city in her honour. It still remains the largest city on Kovi. Have you ever seen it?" he asked, with a hint of doubt in his tone.

  Thibalt nodded with his spoon in his mouth. He did not want to raise suspicion.

  "It is the very beacon of the East. A marvellous creation. Yet, the city to which most refer to when talking of the East, is Precedin. The City of War, as it has been dubbed by Feldonian and Dargonians alike. But of course you knew that," Thibalt nodded quickly, but Oldus narrowed his eyes slightly. "Never in its long history has the city gone more than a decade without a major attack from the Dargonian forces. It is the headquarters of the Feldonian army and the main defence between Dargon and the Alliance. Many consider it to be the most important city in the entire world. Wise men claim that the nation that controls Precedin holds the power to control the entire continent."

  Thibalt's eyes widened. This was where he was headed, to the City of War and adventure. He licked his spoon clean and placed it into the empty bowl. "Why doesn't Dargon simply attack through another path?"

  "There is none," replied Oldus. "Though there are many trails through the Beon Ranges, none are large enough for an entire army. A few well placed men could hold off hundreds in the treacherous passes through the mountains. And to the south, Nyrune's protection ensures that the Misty Forest is kept free of enemies."

  "Then why not set sail and strike from the sea?"

  "They have done this, but have never found success. The Dargonians are not a seafaring nation. Our own ships patrol the North Sea ceaselessly and have held back many of Dargon's attempts to break through."

  "Tell me something storyteller," said Thibalt, whilst motioning for the barkeeper to pass him a mug of ale. "I have passed a lot of people on the road travelling westwards. Entire families travelling with their belongings packed on wagons. What drives them west?

  "They are heading for safety, young man. The East is ever full of strife and is no place for families."

  "Do you believe a new war is truly coming?" asked Thibalt.

  "War with Dargon is inevitable and constant," he returned with a laugh. The old man's eyes then turned dark. "The young and naive say that war is coming. It has always been here."

  Thibalt saw Oldus trying to hold back sorrow from his expression. "Thank you for your story, Oldus. It has been a long day and I think it is time I retired to my room."

  "As you will, young sir. I thank you for lending me your ears and I bid you goodnight."

  Thibalt slid off his stool and began to head for the stairs.

  "One last thing," called Oldus. "You would do well to practice your Feldonian accent a bit more if you intend to keep hiding the Miirvkin within you."

  Thibalt turned around in distress.

  "Don't fear young man, your secret is safe," he said with a sly bow.

  Thibalt could not reply. The old man
had known all along, but kept silent on the matter. He simply nodded and moved up the stairs to his room.