Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03

by Toby Neighbors

  Billips dropped his sword and rolled over, cradling his hand and crawling away. Zollin let him go. He felt his strength sag as the emotion of the fight drained away. He kept his defenses up, but he was tired. He needed more sleep and food to keep up a prolonged attack, and even though it was still early morning and the Great Valley was cool, he was sweating and breathing hard.

  “Don’t make me kill you,” he said to Billips, the magical resonance to his voice gone.

  “You are a criminal,” Billips shouted.

  “And you’re a stubborn fool, but we don’t have to be enemies.”

  Zollin reached out with his magic and felt Billips’ damaged hand. He sent power into the gauntlet and it popped back into its proper shape. Billips turned and faced Zollin, still cradling his hand. Zollin held his hand out toward Billips, a gesture that was simply for show, so that the commander would know that Zollin was healing him. He felt the broken fingers and, one by one, he set the bones and mended them together. Billips was moaning in pain and the soldiers started to move forward, but the commander held up his good hand, motioning for them to stay back. Then Zollin knitted the muscle and flesh of Billips’ fingers back together.

  The commander pulled off the gauntlet and looked at his hand. It was still stained with blood, but the cuts were gone, the broken fingers as good as new. He flexed his hand incredulously and then looked at Zollin, who was lowering his hand and leaning on the sword which was stuck in the ground. Then Billips threw down his gauntlet and called for his horse. An aide rode up leading the black charger. Billips climbed into the saddle and then ordered his men to see about the wounded. Finally he turned to Zollin. Brianna had come up to stand beside him. She had torn off the sleeve on his wounded arm and was pressing it against the cut to slow the bleeding.

  Billips rode close, looking down at them disdainfully. “You’re free to leave,” he said. Then he turned his charger and rode away.

  Zollin sank down to his knees. He was exhausted and weak.

  “Are you okay?” Brianna asked.

  He nodded but didn’t speak. His mouth was so dry he could hardly swallow.

  “Come on, we need to get you out of here.”

  She pulled Zollin back onto his feet, and they left the sword in the ground as they walked slowly away from the scene of the battle. There were soldiers looking after the wounded knights and guards. They all looked at Zollin with awe, giving him and Brianna a wide berth. They were almost out of the army camp when a soldier came riding up with Zollin’s horse and Lilly. They were saddled, and their weapons were packed neatly on the horses. There was even a haunch of the venison that Brianna had killed, hanging from her saddle.

  “Well, all’s well that ends well,” Brianna said as they climbed up onto their horses. “I shot a deer,” she told Zollin.

  “And a soldier, from what I hear.”

  She smiled and they rode away, laughing.

  Chapter 30

  Quinn spent the night in the lavish White Rose Inn. After his meeting with Pavic, he slept for several hours and then was escorted through the city. It was late and most of the citizens were sleeping, but in the Grand City someone was always awake. Still, the streets were clear for the most part. Quinn walked his horse behind a servant who led him through the winding streets to a brothel in the northern part of town. Pavic and Prince Wilam were there waiting. Wilam was dressed in very plain looking clothes. He had a sword, but it was a simple-looking weapon, with a leather wrapped handle in a plain brown scabbard.

  “Prince Wilam, this is Quinn,” Pavic said, making the introductions.

  “How do I know that my father sent you?” Wilam asked suspiciously.

  “Didn’t Pavic show you the letter?”

  “Letters and seals can be forged,” Wilam said. “Tell me what my father looked like.”

  “He has aged, sire,” Quinn replied. “He was sick for many months.”

  “What color are his eyes?”

  “Brown, I think,” Quinn said.

  “You’ve been a member of the Royal Guard, so how do I know that you aren’t lying?”

  “I give you my word.”

  “I’ll need more than that if I’m going to slink out of the city with you,” Wilam said in a haughty tone.

  “Well, I’m not sure how to prove my intentions,” Quinn said. “Your father asked me to come and help you because your brother ordered assassins to kill you.”

  “And you say my father has retaken the throne?”

  “Yes, my son is a wizard and he healed the King.”

  “And what of my brother? Was he held to account for his actions?”

  Quinn hesitated.

  “It was my brother who was poisoning the King?” Wilam said, not really asking a question.

  “Yes.”

  “And has my father brought Simmeron to justice?”

  “No, sire. He has been removed from the castle, I believe, but I haven’t heard where he is or what has been done to him.”

  “Well, you’ve at least been in Orrock,” Wilam said. “My father always coddled Simmeron. I’ll go with him, Pavic.”

  “Good, my Prince. I think that would be the best thing to do.”

  “What is your plan?” Wilam asked.

  “Pavic thinks returning to Brimington would be a mistake. I thought we could ride north, and perhaps take passage on a ship just across the border.”

  “Alright, well, we shouldn’t waste anymore time. Let’s ride, Quinn.”

  They mounted up and Pavic stepped forward.

  “It has been an honor to serve with you,” Pavic said. “Relay my highest regards to your father and tell him I hope my actions pleased him.”

  “I shall, Pavic. It isn’t too late for you to ride with us. You don’t have to stay.”

  “No, we’ve discussed that. Now ride on, my liege. Ride fast and be careful.”

  “I shall not forget your service.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  They rode away, passing through the final set of gates an hour later. There were soldiers on the city walls, but all they saw were two travelers, certainly not the Crown Prince of Yelsia. They rode in silence for a long time, following a road that led them north. They passed the small villages that surrounded the city and the shanty towns of the poor. When the sun finally came up, they were far enough north that they could no longer see the Grand City, but the tower of the Torr was still visible. It was the tallest structure in Osla, a plain, round tower that rose high over the city. Seeing it in the distance made Quinn nervous. He couldn’t imagine Zollin going there.

  “Tell me about your son, Quinn,” Wilam said at last, breaking the silence between the two men.

  “Zollin’s a good boy. I raised him. His mother didn’t survive the birth. He was always a quiet boy, but a little over a year ago he discovered that he was a wizard. No one in our village knew it, including myself, until some wizards from the Torr showed up. They wanted to take Zollin away. I couldn’t allow that, as you might imagine. We fought them and fled into the Northern Highlands. I figured the winter snows would give us a chance to figure out our next move. As soon as the spring thaws came, the wizards showed up, leading a legion of the King’s Army.”

  “Thanks to my fool brother, no doubt,” Wilam said.

  “Yes, sire. Branock, that’s the wizard from the Torr, promised him all sorts of things, I imagine. Anyway, it just so happened that the Skellmarians attacked the village of Brighton’s Gate that same day. The army tried to stop them, but they were outnumbered.”

  “There was more than a legion of Skellmarians?”

  “Yes. The clans have banded together. I’m not sure why. And it was during this attack that the dragon showed up.”

  “The same dragon that the rumors are about?”

  “Yes, sire. The very same. I saw it sometime later when the Felson cavalry legion was hunting it. It’s the same beast.”

  “So what happened in the village?”

  “Zollin fought the dr
agon. He pulled one of the village inns down on the dragon using his magic, and the dragon fled. During the fighting a young girl from our village was taken by Branock and we pursued them. Zollin defeated Branock in Orrock, but was rushed to heal your father and the wizard escaped. Then your father sent us south and sent Zollin to fight the dragon.”

  Prince Wilam contemplated this news as they rode. Pavic had packed supplies for their journey. They both had bread, dried meat, and fruit. There was also cheese, wine, and even some smoked fish and sausages. They stopped long enough to stretch their tired muscles and retrieve some food. Then they pushed on again, riding through the day. Quinn offered to let Prince Wilam wear his straw hat to keep the sun off his head, but the Prince refused. He rode in silent misery as the sun beat down on them.

  At midday they rested in the shade for one hour, then walked their horses through the afternoon. By evening they were exhausted, but they rode on, past villages and inns. They ate dinner in the saddle and let the stars illuminate the path before them. Quinn had expected to have to take things easy with the Prince, but he was just as determined to keep moving as Quinn was. Finally, shortly before midnight, they made camp in a grove of trees. Quinn took the first watch, trying to let Wilam sleep as long as possible. It was only a couple of hours until daybreak when he finally roused the Prince.

  Wilam rose without a word and took up the watch. Quinn had not known what to expect from the Prince, but was pleasantly surprised by the man’s resilience. He wasn’t much older than Mansel and had a sturdy build. It was obvious that he was a man of action, not words, and his military training was not wasted on him. When Wilam woke Quinn, the sun was rising and their horses were saddled and ready to ride. The camp had been packed—all Quinn needed to do was get on his horse and ride. He felt a little guilty letting the Crown Prince do all the work, but he hadn’t asked Wilam to do it.

  * * *

  “Where is your Prince?” Belphan asked Pavic. “Does he not realize that the Council of Kings is meeting because of the negligence of his kingdom?”

  “I’m sorry, my kings,” Pavic said, “but Prince Wilam is indisposed. I’m sure that he would be happy to attend the council tomorrow, or the day after at the latest.”

  “No,” came a rasping but loud voice from the far side of the court. “Prince Wilam has fled the city.”

  “Who dares accuse the Crown Prince of Yelsia of such a crime?” Pavic said, his resolve faltering even as he spoke.

  “I do. I am Offendorl, Master of the Torr, eldest wizard of the Five Kingdoms. I call into question the behavior of the Prince and that of his high counselor.”

  Offendorl wore thick robes over his skeletal frame. He had only wisps of white hair still on his head, and his beard was scraggly as well. He looked weak, moving slowly across the polished stone floor and leaning heavily on a staff that was taller than he was.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Pavic asked. “This is a Council of Kings. You serve no kingdom and have no authority in this court.”

  “I have invited Offendorl to this council,” said King Belphan.

  “As have I,” said King Oveer.

  They both looked at Zorlan, the King of Falxis. He was a fat man with dark circles under his eyes. He did not look happy, but he added his voice to the others.

  “And I,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “This is highly irregular,” said Ricard, King of Baskla, who had only just arrived in the Grand City the day before.

  “I must protest,” said Pavic.

  “And who are you to protest?” said Belphan. “You are not even the ambassador for your kingdom. Merely a servant who dares protest the will of kings.”

  “He is a distraction. It makes no difference,” said Offendorl. “I have already sent orders to every port city between here and Yelsia. The Prince will be made to answer for fleeing the city.”

  “Then let us begin the council,” said Belphan.

  “You cannot convene the Council of Kings unless all Five Kingdoms are represented,” said Pavic.

  “He’s right,” said Ricard.

  “Then let him answer for the crimes of his kingdom,” said Offendorl. “That is what this council is for. Yelsia has broken a treaty that has stood for three hundred years.”

  “That is a lie,” said Pavic loudly. “Yelsia has done nothing to break the treaty.”

  “Is that a fact?” said Offendorl, moving closer to Pavic, but his voice boomed magically all around the room so that everyone could hear him.

  “The reports of a dragon in the north are nothing more than rumors,” Pavic said.

  “The dragon is disturbing, but that is not why we are here,” said Belphan.

  Pavic felt as if he had been stabbed with a blade made of ice. He had no idea what the other Kings were going to accuse them of. He chanced a glance at Torrin, who stood behind King Oveer with the other councilors. The young spy was staring down at the floor.

  “Is it not true that Yelsia has broken the treaty by bringing a wizard into service?” asked Oveer.

  “No,” said Pavic.

  “Can you prove that?” asked Belphan.

  “I don’t have to. It is not the burden of the accused to prove their innocence, but the accuser to prove their accusations.”

  “And we shall,” said Belphan. “These and more,” he said as he shifted his gaze from Pavic to Torrin.

  Pavic had no illusions that he would somehow survive the Council of Kings, but he had hoped to buy Quinn and Prince Wilam time to escape the plans that Offendorl and the kings loyal to him were hatching. Now those hopes were dashed. His Prince was heading straight into Offendorl’s trap, and Pavic had no way to warn him.

  “Let us start with the charge before the council,” said Ricard. “Is it true that Yelsia has a wizard?”

  “No,” Pavic said.

  “Yes, in fact, they do,” said Offendorl. “I am a wizard and I have served the Five Kingdoms for decades. As the foremost authority on magic, I will bring irrefutable proof that Yelsia is, in fact, harboring a wizard.”

  There was some murmuring in the court, and Offendorl paused to give everyone a chance to process his claims.

  “As you know, the leaders of the Five Kingdoms gave up their wizards over three centuries ago and entrusted all magical power and knowledge to the Torr. Since that time, peace has reined in the Five Kingdoms, with no realm rising up to challenge its neighbor. Of course, the Torr does not control who becomes a wizard and who doesn’t, but our gifts allow us to recognize and detect magic even from across the five realms. I detected a young wizard in Yelsia long ago and sent members of our order north to find him. Last year they found a boy in a small village, a young man, really. Unfortunately, he refused to join us and fought the men I had sent to welcome him into our fold. Two of my men were killed, a third is missing. I cannot say what happened in Yelsia, only that the fugitive is being protected by King Felix, who insulted us by refusing our summons to this council.”

  “That isn’t true. King Felix has been ill. That fact is widely known,” Pavic argued.

  “Perhaps, but that doesn’t negate the testimony we have been given,” said Belphan.

  “The testimony of one man is not proof,” said Pavic.

  “He is an expert witness,” said Oveer. “There is no need to corroborate his sworn statement, which I have here.” The King unrolled a scroll with the Torr’s seal plainly visible.

  “Nor is my testimony the only proof we have,” said Offendorl. “The news of a dragon in the north is further proof that a wizard dwells in Yelsia.”

  “This is absurd,” said Pavic.

  “The high counselor will use caution when addressing this court,” bellowed Belphan. “Do not forget that you speak in the presence of royalty.”

  “I meant no offense,” Pavic said. “But the rumors of a dragon in Yelsia are just hearsay, there is no proof that a dragon exists—and even if it did, how is that proof that there is a wizard in Yelsia?”

  “For
over three centuries, the Torr has kept the Five Kingdoms safe from magical creatures,” Offendorl said. “By concentrating our power in the Torr, we have kept the magical world in slumber so that mankind has flourished. One of the dangers of wizards roaming through the kingdoms using magic is that their power leaches out and gives rise to all kinds of dreadful creatures. This dragon is a perfect example.”

  “Are we supposed to simply take your word for this claim?” Pavic said.

  “No, I have here the writings of three ancient and revered wizards. Come and see the proof for yourself. A dragon in Yelsia means that there is a wizard who has not submitted to the Torr and who is recklessly destroying over three hundred years of civil order.”

  “Empty claims,” Pavic shouted.

  “A convincing argument,” Oveer shouted back.

  “Order!” cried Ricard. “Let there be order in this council. We’ve heard your accusations and the proof of the wizard of the Torr. Does the representative from Yelsia have proof that these accusations are not true?”

  “That is not the burden of the accused,” said Pavic.

  “But you have a right to bring evidence of your own. Do you have anything to add that might help us make a proper decision?”