Chronicles of Den'dra: A land on Fire

by Spencer Johnson

  “Is that…?” Tarth pointed towards the scroll held protectively by Incrin.

  “The writings of Forest Wing, or Green Wing. The word for forest and green are almost identical and only differentiated in later dialects of the ancient tongue. Even then, they are often interchangeable. Wherever they came from, there must have been a lot of ever summer forests.”

  “You are right. Alban would bust a vein on hearing that we actually have some of the Dragon Lord’s writings. I am guessing that it is the reason that you are so stubborn about picking your apprentice record keeper.”

  “Most those young ones have no appreciation for history. Since Alban took over, many would be more interested in burning these priceless scrolls. Besides, I am not so old as to need an apprentice's help.”

  “I wasn’t calling you old. It is just better to have two archive keepers rather than one.”

  “I will keep an eye on the new ones coming in. Mayhap I find one that isn’t indoctrinated yet.”

  “You said that you found something?” Tarth deftly turned the conversation away from points that were considered dangerous if overheard.

  “I never said that. You always assume.”

  “I am an empath, meaning I never assume.” Tarth knew that there was no rushing Incrin. Attempting such would only work the opposite.

  “Fine, I did find something. I believe that Stone Walker lost his mace, Iron Earth in the common vernacular, during one of the last battles of the Millennium War.”

  “Is that all you found?” Tarth looked askance at Incrin who scowled back.

  “It was in the southern Vaulwar near the cracked mountain. There was an army composed of humans and dwarves present, if that helps.” Tarth merely shook his head slightly.

  “It doesn’t help much. Have you read anything about a mace of rare quality in human hands?” Tarth pursed his lips thoughtfully after asking.

  “Well, there was Tarl’ilk, the mighty, clan master of Brea who had a fine mace until he broke it in a battle with Safrym. Giansar’thrack would never have broken so that wasn’t it. Silmn, the beggar lord, who had a mace, but it is supposedly on display in Loneka Manor. I doubt that could be it because I have read of the account of its forging by human hands. There are other tales that mention maces except none of them are extraordinary. The dwarves though, they are another thing altogether. I have few, if any, tales of them after the decline. It could be in one of their tombs as we speak.”

  “How do you know Stone Walker lost it?”

  “Because, he had a great battle with one of the Wraith at the end of the Millennium war. Green Wing says that the Dragon Lords that lost their soul forgings died within a couple years of the curse. Stone Walker died within a couple years and spent those years digging tunnels through the Vaulwar. It is where the dwarves found his body. The recounting of his burial says that they left Giansar’thrack so he would have a familiar shape in the next life. There was damage to the original manuscript, but I believe it says that the best crafters in the land placed Giansar’thrack at his side. There is just enough room in the damaged line to say that. It all fits together when you step back and look at it.”

  “If you say it makes sense. If it is all the same, I will not be telling Alban about Green Wing’s contribution or whose side of the story you were reading concerning the last battle.”

  “Suit yourself.” Incrin murmured absently. He was already sinking into the scrolls and didn’t notice Tarth’s departure.

  Chapter Twenty-One: Fulfilment

  The languid sun did little to warm the Garoche Heights, even at this point in the summer. In a few more weeks of time, the temperatures would begin declining and the slowly melting glaciers would refreeze. It was unlikely that it would snow at this time yet there was always the chance for an early storm on the east facing slopes of the Garoche. Urake stepped out of the lead and let the next person break trail. He was untouched by the frigid air and unlike the rest, he had discovered a seemingly boundless energy that allowed him to forge onward for hours. He had to remember that the people following were not so gifted. When he wondered why, he sensed something akin to laughter. Urake glanced at the sword pommel sticking out of his belt. He considered hanging it on his back, but he knew that he would still be feeling for it every few moments. With it on his belt, the gesture was hardly noticeable.

  The trail had been far easier to break once Kosovo had shown up. Aleest was delighted whilst almost everyone else was apprehensive at the giant white bear’s presence. Tusul was huffing and puffing, but he hadn’t uttered a single complaint since leaving Warton. Neither would he let anyone touch the large pack hanging on his back, let alone give it over to Aleest for the bear to carry. Even with Tusul’s addition, the party was considerably smaller than when Urake had traversed the mountain going in the other direction. Tusul had virtually demanded to be allowed to come along. Turana had boarded up the shop and moved to the Golden Thistle for Tusul’s absence. Emeck followed Tusul and shot a smile at Urake who grimly smiled back in acknowledgment.

  They had spent several days longer in the Height than had earlier been anticipated. Emeck had volunteered to go ahead before they came out of the mountain at the same place they had the first time, but he had returned and said that there was an army down there and one none too friendly towards the rebels. Urake knew that they would have to cut over to Keom to be safe. It made for slower travel, but there was not anyone else up in the Heights along the route to hinder their movement. They had to remain high enough to avoid the beginnings of the glacier melt river that form part of Keom’s defenses. The detour was exhausting and had required a couple nights to be spent in snow caves carved out of the melting glaciers.

  Oscarion was currently tied hand and foot with a blanket wrapped around him. Urake shot a displeased glance towards the bundle draped across Kosovo’s back in front of Aleest. The last of the sleeping potion had been used up hours ago. The lordling was bound to be waking soon. If they had been able to travel through the forest on the lower slopes, they would have been able to move much faster and would have been at Keom by now. Oscarion would have been securely in a cell and it wouldn’t matter, but if he woke up here in the Heights, they would have to deal with him in one way or another.

  Urake flinched as he saw the blanket move. A moment later he relaxed. It was only the wind toying with the blanket edge. That was when he saw the boot twitch. Only a matter of minutes before the lordling would groggily begin struggling. Savoring the few minutes of blissful silence broken only by the crunching rotten snow beneath his boots, Urake caught up with Kosovo and walked alongside until Oscarion began waking in earnest. Catching a flailing foot, Urake yanked the lordling off Kosovo and jerked his head at Aleest who whispered something to the bear. A moment later and they were galloping through the snow effortlessly. Urake waited until they had disappeared over the edge of a rise before unwrapping Oscarion and cutting his ankle bindings. At first the man stared stupidly about, blinking his eyes and squinting. This changed rapidly as Urake seized a handful of slush and began scrubbing his face vigorously.

  “Thundering fool! Unhand me at once! My father will have your head for laying a finger on me.”

  “Your father is dead if you don’t remember.” Oscarion was still squinting, but he fastened his gaze on Urake and tried to arrogantly smile. The effect was made humorous by the red crease left by a fold in the blanket he had been wrapped in.

  “That is right. That murdering elf whore killed him. That also means that I am Lord Loneka. Unbind me or your life will be forfeit.” This time, Oscarion managed a haughty air to his voice.

  “Look around you boy, see any wolf sigils?” Urake growled before waving at Emeck and Tusul to continue.

  “Hold your place knaves, I will have an explanation at once.”

  “Go on, this brat will be following shortly under his own power even if I have to thrash him for every step.” This elicited some chuckling from Emeck and Tusul before they continued. Oscarion was
properly horrified and struck speechless for a moment.

  “You wouldn’t dare lift a finger against the Lord of house Loneka!”

  “I would, just try me you traitorous dog.” Urake’s tone was enough to get Oscarion stumbling on awkwardly, trying to keep an eye on Urake and the snow ahead.

  “I am not the traitor. You are the one committing treason. I am to wed the princess and be the king of the Braebach.”

  “I very much doubt that you will be marrying any princess, however the truth will soon vindicate itself. We are going to visit the Princess so this should all resolve itself shortly… I hope.”

  “You take me for a fool! This isn’t the way to Shienhin. There is no snow on the road. By my estimate, we are in the highlands. They have snow there all the year around. How you managed to get me this far is a wonder, that much I have to give you credit for. Name your price.”

  “Name my price? Why?” Urake narrowed his eyes enough to keep Oscarion from pausing to negotiate.

  “Loneka is the wealthiest house in the Braebach. You took me for ransom. What is your price?” Oscarion attempted to negotiate while walking but found it difficult.

  “Safrym was the wealthiest house.”

  “What does that have to do with my ransom?” Oscarion demanded abruptly.

  “Only this, your grandfather betrayed house Safrym to Illiad. I saw that he didn’t live long to enjoy the fruits of that betrayal; however, it would seem that poor foresight was hereditary.” Urake breathed a sigh of relief when topping the next rise revealed a line of trees the marked the edge of the Heights.

  “I won’t listen to a common bandit impugn the name of my house. Hear me? I will not take another step until this is settled.” Oscarion turned and planted his feet stubbornly. Urake smiled ruefully before striking the lordling in the middle of his chest with an open handed punch. It was still enough force to send him skidding over backwards and gasping for breath like a fish out of water.

  “I warned you what would happen if you tried me.” Urake spoke with a dangerously quiet voice as he pulled Oscarion up by the front of his jacket. The lordling walked a few paces before unwisely trying to pick up negotiations again.

  “I don’t believe that my house has the dishonorable past that you ascribe to it, but with that aside, how much do you want for my ransom?”

  “House Loneka pillaged and looted when Safrym fell. A large portion of Loneka’s wealth was Safrym’s.” Oscarion’s eyes widened and his nose flared in anger, although he had enough sense to not argue again.

  “Why do you care so much about this Safrym and what does it matter if a little of the gold in my ransom came from Safrym?”

  “A little? Loneka raped, pillaged, and burnt m… Safrym’s estates. No other house was so foul in their dealing. Even the houses that had opposed Safrym from the beginning censured Loneka.”

  “How can you dare say such things? You weren’t there!” Urake shook his head sadly and smirked slightly on seeing the rage spring into Oscarion’s eyes.

  “I was there, a banner man to Lord Ermor.” The rage died a little and was replaced by a morose silence as Oscarion tried to puzzle out what Urake wanted without outright asking. Urake didn’t volunteer any further details and was relieved when a couple mounted soldiers emerged from the trees a few minutes later.

  “Urake?” One of them queried as they rode up.

  “Indeed, I take it that your met the three I sent ahead?”

  “We met two but not a third.”

  “It is all right. You would have remembered having met him.”

  “We sent a soldier on ahead for a few more mounts.” Urake smiled, the idea of getting to Keom as fast as possible was appealing. He flinched as Oscarion boldly broke in.

  “I see you bear the sigil of the Queen. Take this man and his accomplices into custody at once pending their trial for treason.” The red line that marred Oscarion’s face had faded so he was able to pull off a convincingly arrogant look.

  “Interesting one you have here. A little feisty isn’t he?” The two soldiers chuckled as Oscarion turned beet red.

  “He is Lord Oscarion of House Loneka.” Urake smirked again at Oscarion’s look of vindication. His smirk deepened a little as he noted the scowls the soldiers now wore.

  “He should be the one sitting trial for treason. Loneka troops have been giving us the most trouble at the front.” The second soldier growled loud enough that Oscarion paled.

  “Oh, he should be sitting trial, just not for treason. He should be on trial for murdering his father.” Oscarion paled a little more at Urake’s accusation.

  “Patricide is a serious charge.” The soldier would have continued if Oscarion hadn’t interrupted.

  “I told the fool that it was the elf whore that killed him.” Oscarion stopped short in his explanation as Urake’s hand tightened painfully on his shoulder.

  “She told a different story. Your house will also be charged with conducting slavery.” Urake’s tone brooked no argument, but Oscarion lived up to expectation and retorted anyway.

  “She is a liar. You are both liars!”

  “That is a dangerous thing to call the Asgare. You had best watch your tongue before he puts you out of our misery.” The black look that Oscarion received from both men was enough to make him swallow. Just then, Aleest came out of the trees with his pack. He seemed busy picking stiff white hair off of his clothes. The soldiers relaxed after Urake nodded to them. No one said anything until they joined up with Emeck and Tusul waiting with the rest of the patrol. A half hour passed before the promised mounts arrived, during which time Oscarion brooded silently and only received a glance every few moments to make sure he hadn’t loosened his bindings. The ride into Keom was uneventful until the soldiers escorted them to the gates leading into the Sea Fort.

  “The Princess is inside. You have been announced so she should be sending someone to call you shortly.” Urake smiled as a figure arrayed in a simple blue dress stepped out between the slightly ajar gate doors. Two men followed her a stride later, one in the common garb of a soldier and the other wearing the green oak cloak of the royal guard. Urake’s escort bowed and excused themselves before Em’risi invited the party inside. Urake felt something brush his mind and glanced at Emeck who was widely smiling and shaking his head.

  “Sun, moons and stars, it is the Asgare!” A voice from within announced in shock. The thin hawkeyed young man stopped on seeing Em’risi scowling at him.

  “They’re… they are all Gifted.” Emeck announced in wonder.

  “The Princess will have you all clapped in irons as soon as she captures you.” Oscarion had not yet learned. He reddened again as a wave of laughter swept the courtyard.

  “Oscarion of house Loneka…” Em’risi paused in amusement at Oscarion’s interruption.

  “Lord Oscarion of house Loneka.” This garnered Oscarion scowls from all but Em’risi who was the continued target of a scowl from the lordling.

  “The surrender agreements for house Loneka were rather strict. It required the crown to confirm the appointment of each noble and the crown also had the prerogative to remove the appointed lord at the crown’s pleasure. It also stipulated that the Loneka estates were to have no stronghold or holdfasts. As such, seeing as I have not appointed you a lord, I will address you in any manner that I like. So, as I was saying when you so rudely interrupted me, these men answer to me and have not done anything worthy of clapping them in irons. In my eyes, being Gifted is not a crime. Ordering one’s troops against the crown is treason; however, I have no reason to believe that you were privy to that decision.”

  “I bring the charges of patricide and slavery against him.” Urake gravely announced in a ceremonial tone.

  “You should be trying that elf rather than me. She and this ruffian that calls himself the Asgare have no right to bring any charges against me. I know my rights. Only one of equal or better station can bring a charge against me. You do look as my father described the Prince
ss, but I do not understand how you could be in this place. Unless it is to protect you from the Rebels.” Em'risi smiled wryly during Oscarion’s speech. The smile grew as he spoke the last sentence. The tone had been respectful enough to avoid offence.

  “Lord Uraken has every right to accuse you…”

  “Lord Uraken? You can’t just hand out titles. He is a knave of the lowest sorts!”

  “Please don’t interrupt me again. There are those here that might take offence and neither of us would like what they might do if offended. Sir Lord Uraken has his title by birth. His title is not restricted by any treaty with the crown. On the contrary, his house and my father’s were united by marriage. He has more right than any in the land to bring charges against you. He has the right to bring the charge of alliance breaking against your house. A crime my father overlooked as it benefited him.” Em’risi kept an eye on Urake as she revealed that she knew of her relation to him. She saw a slight smile form then disappear.

  “You can’t do this to me…” Oscarion glanced from Em'risi’s feigned surprised expression to all the sets of hard eyes silently pinned on him. “We are betrothed.”

  “This is news to me, although I shouldn’t be surprised. Your father tried more times than I can count. If I wouldn’t appoint you a Lord, what makes you think that I would marry you? Or, for that matter, even share a throne?”

  “I…” The true gravity of his situation finally struck Oscarion. His mouth worked like it was forming words, except no sound gave the words shape for the listeners.

  “It is settled then. Oscarion of Loneka will be held for trial concerning the charges of patricide and slavery. House Loneka will stand for the charge of alliance breaking. Surrendering and recalling their troops would have saved them of this charge, but a house that breaks alliance then marches against and plunders his former allies is the most dishonorable. Until the time this trial can be held, you will be confined to your room and any officer who held an officer’s rank during the Clan Wars will be confined pending trial in relation to the crimes accorded to house Loneka. The treaties that were binding before and during the Clan Wars will be upheld in the ruling of the trial. So be it. Alvin, escort Oscarion to his room and appoint guards.”