Kingdom Come (Price of Power Book 1)

by Blake Bisciotti

  “What I mean is,” Argorok looked around as if someone may be listening, then he lowered his voice “the issue you have mentioned several times to me…regarding the orcs.”

  “I continue to worry about that. I feel like they have become too powerful, like they would have no need for us. Sources have even told me of meetings of top level orcish commanders.” Frick said as he ran his hand through his long brown hair.

  “Why would they turn on us? We have not taken anything from them, or prevented the expansion of their power? Also, wait till they see the devastation that a group of ten giants will cause in war when the two armies encounter the humans. They will become both happy to have us on their side, and timid to ever try us physically.” The giant leader said with a smirk.

  “I know Argorok, but stay alert. Orcs crave power excessively, it is their flaw and they have never had so much power in the history of Herridon. Now they have tasted its fruit. It is like a shark tasting blood in the seas…a frenzy ensues.” Frick sighed and leaned back in his chair. The fare skin of his face was flush from the days work. “You know, I have never been one to be so paranoid, but I have been losing sleep over this. I should perhaps just forget the notion, and put my guard down a bit.”

  “No Frick.” Argorok reached out and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Perhaps you worry too much, yes. But they are orcs. Just because you are paranoid my friend…. does not mean that they are not plotting on us.”

  ***

  Victus slowly circled the body that lay on the table. His long brown hair dangled in his face and he didn’t bother to move it. The Captain looked exhausted.

  “So you all heard that song as well? That strange divine hymn?” He asked all the men in the room with him. Some men nodded, others spoke. Everyone’s response indicated yes.

  “It was incredible. I have never been part of anything like it. It filled my mind and my soul. It made me concentrate; it gave me strength and poise. Someone please explain this to me at once.” Victus looked again at the dead body of the priest that lay in the center of the room. His eye sockets were burned out. The whole body was charred. The Captain and then everyone else present turned their attention to the group of priests in the large room. There had been twelve clerics of Phelios in the battle. One, the priest who sung the divine hymn, was dead on the table. Another had perished in battle. Ten stood together now.

  This was a topic with which Elberon was familiar. He had encountered stories of this in his studies and he suspected at least some of the other priests had as well.

  “It is hard to say but I believe it is called The Song of Calaris, a rare and powerful spell said to be sent by Phelios himself.” The stares and silence of the room told Elberon that everyone wanted him to continue. “It is said to only be possible for the most dedicated of priests and at a time when Phelios offers his support to his followers’ cause. I have heard of this in my studies, but…but…never thought it would be something I…or anyone would ever experience.”

  “And this spell or song is performed at the price of death?” Someone asked.

  Elberon thought about the question. He did not have a definitive answer, but had read enough to provide a reasonable response. “I believe death is the result if the priest is not powerful enough to handle the spell, so it is written. It is possible to live on. When I read about The Song of Calaris it was chanted centuries ago, when the kingdoms north of the plains were united, and the cities of the south not yet founded.” The time referenced by Elberon was at least three hundred years earlier and little was known about it.

  “Who is Calaris?” asked Victus as he leaned back against the table and cuffed his chin in his hands. He then added, “Forgive me if I should know.”

  “Calaris was the greatest follower of Phelios. It is said that Phelios would take human form and teach Calaris himself. Over a thousand years ago Phelios gave Calaris this song when Calaris’s people faced decimation by warring invaders who arrived by sea. As you noticed and felt, the song gives all those who hear it, which would only be allies of the chanting priest, added divine strength, courage, and speed granted by our god himself in his divine grace. It is one of the greatest gifts of Phelios, it can make a small army capable of accomplishing astonishing things.” Elberon unconsciously squeezed his sun pendant that he wore around his neck.

  Another priest of Phelios spoke up with passion in his voice, “It cannot be over looked how monumental this is. It is a gift greater than any that has been given in our lifetimes. In centuries!”

  The Captain turned and slowly walked about looking at the other soldiers in the room, then back to the dead priest on the table, “You see…Phelios backed our cause today, let us not let this fact escape us. A god supports us! Keep this in mind as you consider our cause. Remember this as we bury our dead.” He turned to the group of priest of Phelios. “Bury him according to your customs.”

  The ten priests went about their business over the body. They would anoint him in oil and perform other rituals before burying him. Victus walked over to some of his top men. The rest of the soldiers began to disperse.

  “What were our losses?” He asked quietly.

  “Just over five hundred and seventy men. Would have been more but the priests saved scores of men; however there are also many injured.” Replied Andres who wore a bloodied bandage around his head, his fair skin flushed.

  Some men in the room wore expressions that showed they were surprised that the army’s losses were so few. Victus seemed to wince as if he felt it was far too many. “Yes, the priests’ contributions have been invaluable. We must repay them and their causes when things settle down. We will do so in a proper manner, not by throwing money at the matter. This is important.” Victus said and looked at another of his men, Ryon Ludlow, and declared, “I want Irick and Stefan honored. They will be buried in glory, and to the customs of their gods.” The Captain spoke of the two men who had given their lives after they rode bravely against the cloud giant. He wouldn’t forget that they distracted him, which enabled Victus to kill the beast. The two men were his young, promising commanders. They had given the ultimate sacrifice for their leader and their cause. He couldn’t help but think they knew they were riding to their death when approaching the dangerous giant to defend him.

  “Yes sir,” replied Ryon.

  “Also” continued Victus, “gather the weapons and armor of both their and our dead. Keep what is useful for us and discard the rest. Unto our honor”

  “Yes sir, we have already begun to do so. Unto our honor,” said Ryon and he left the room quickly.

  As Ryon made his way out, another commander by the name of Bayloff, entered the room. He was Victus’s closest commander and advisor and had always been a mentor to The Captain. This was rooted in the fact that Bayloff knew Victus’s father well from their time together in the city guard of Rogsnelk. He was a grizzled man of about forty years with dark weathered skin. Disheveled short brown hair was pushed back and slightly to the side. His beard was littered with grey hairs. He walked directly up to Victus.

  “We have tallied up the remaining Faletonians.” Bayloff said to his captain.

  “Continue.”

  “There are about one hundred and fifty women, children and elderly, mostly orcs and a few goblins. I suspect the rest of those unfit for battle fled the city in advance of our arrival. There are also eighty-seven soldiers that have surrendered; sixty-eight are orcs, the rest goblins and two humans. What shall we do with them?” All eyes now turned to the leader as the question dangled painfully before him.

  Captain Victus Antonel stood staring blankly. He had not prepared for such a scenario. He knew there would be battle and death, but the aftermaths of large war were new to him. What does one do with children, women and elderly? Do you let them go? What if the children go on to grow up to be warriors who dedicate their lives to bringing down the vile men that may have killed their parents? What if the women breed families of men with the same intentions? The s
oldiers that surrendered could report back to the one of the other cities only to fight in another battle against Victus.

  He stroked his chin in thought. He could just have them all killed and not have to worry about what they would do in the future. There would just be less orcs and goblins…and a couple of savage humans in Herridon. The thoughts bounced around in his head. He turned to Bayloff and looked at his older friend.

  “The women, children and elderly…” he looked at the faces of the people around him. They were waiting on his words. Would he be Victus the Ruthless or Victus the Merciful? “They may be released. Remind them that we spared them.” Some men seemed to shift their stances in what could have been relief.

  “And the soldiers?” Asked Bayloff.

  The captain stroked the stubble on his strong chin and looked Bayloff in the eyes as if searching for help with the question. “The soldiers are all to be executed.” He said with no emotion in his voice.

  “Yes sir.” said Bayloff without a blink and started towards the door with several soldiers following.

  Victus the Merciful? Victus the Ruthless? He would be both.

  Chapter 17

  When night fell the mood became somber. Many of the men who fought for Victus had never fought in battle before. The anxieties of battle were fresh in their mind. Hundreds of men were dealing with the painful new feelings of taking a life for the first time, others with the tragic emotions of having lost a comrade or worse, a friend or family member. Victus decided they would stay that night, perhaps a couple of nights, within the city they just conquered. They had to regroup, men were injured and broken physically, mentally and emotionally.

  Victus had sustained a rather serious injury to his shoulder in his charge to slay Bix Olan Fod; however the good Captain would not allow the priests to heal his wound. He bandaged it and insisted that any remaining healing spells of the clerics be used on his men. He would wait until the following day for any healing.

  An army had never been raised by any of the cities by the South Sea. So much was new to the men. Most had never worn proper armor or swung a real blade with the intention of killing another. They were not alone in their lack of experience; things were new to Victus as well. He had been in battle before, he had taken lives before, but never had he been at the helm of an army during or after the seizing of a city. Of course most men had heard epic stories of historic battle victory and then what transpired after, but it was different when it all fell on your shoulders. The men looked to him for guidance and comfort; his officers expected him to lead.

  There was so much to plan and consider. What could they learn from the city? Were there important documents that they should collect and review? How long should they stay or should they immediately move on? And what of the rest of Faletonia? Certainly the city of Southland was just a portion of the force. Will they march the remaining force on his army? Or worse, directly to the three cities of the South Sea, two of which were currently poorly defended because many of the men were away at war? He began a campaign to rid his land of a vile threat, and he had to finish what he started. Could he finish? Had he woke a sleeping giant? The irony of the phrase struck him like a blow to the face with a giant’s club.

  His men had done a quick scour of the city, rounding up the survivors and inspecting some sections. Victus himself had wandered about for some time. He stopped in homes and shops. He inspected houses and apartments that must have belonged to orcs or goblins. There were clothing shops, and markets, bars and blacksmiths. His curiosity was peaked and he wanted to learn more. What did the barracks look like in a city occupied by monsters? Were there religious buildings of some sort? After a few hours he decided to continue the search and exploration of the city in the morning. Victus sent his men to prepare sleeping arrangements for his army. There was ample space for the soldiers between the existing living quarters and buildings used by the Faletonians and also open areas where they would put up tents.

  But as the night fell it became apparent to The Captain that he had to raise the spirits of the men. It was a clear warm night and Victus stood outside his quarters. A light breeze brushed his face and gently rustled his long hair. He heard voices in the distance but not many. The quiet sounds of the night were eerie considering thousands of men stayed within the walls.

  Earlier, just before dusk, some of his men discovered stashes of wine, ale and food in a few buildings. They brought them to their captain. All the men were shocked at how much food there was. Perhaps the Faletonians were considering the possibility of a long siege or perhaps they flourished more than anyone knew.

  The crackle of a nearby lantern pulled him from a trance. He had been thinking of the best way to conclude his night. His men needed rest for they were weary from battle. But the silence of the night invaded his mind again. The Captain called for his officers. They came quickly to his summons and he asked them to gather all of the soldiers in the center of the city immediately.

  His men would celebrate their victory. They would party with their commanders and their leader, among their brothers and comrades. They would drink and eat merrily and try to forget their sorrows and fears. As his men were gathering, Victus instructed that the food, wine and ale that were found remaining in the city be collected and prepared for distribution. Wisely, Bayloff advised that, in the face of defeat, the enemy may have very well poisoned their food and drink in anticipation of turning it over to the enemy. The Captain agreed and called for the clerics. The priests of Tuemis were able to casts spells that could determine if the food and beverage was indeed contaminated or harmful. It was not; the victory party would begin.

  Scouting parties on the fastest horses were dispatched to be sure that the enemy was not nearby. A victory celebration was a risky idea, but it was for the best. Fire pits were made for roasting meat and heating pots. Wine barrels were opened and cups or bowls passed out to all who desired one. Men who had packed instruments played tunes and, after a while when the mood picked up and the wine set in, songs were sung. Laughing and smiles replaced groaning and frowns and Victus was happy to see it, although he could not shake the uneasy feeling of uncertainty as to what to do next. He also knew the party could not go on too late or be too intense since there was a lot of work and preparing to do the next day. Being tired and sick from alcohol would help no one.

  The Captain walked among his men in the beginning of the night and conversed with them. He then settled in the center of the party, where chairs for him and his officers were assembled on a slightly elevated dais. Victus too was beginning to feel better. He had several uplifting conversations with his soldiers when he was walking about. Many would refer to him as “sir ” as he walked by. They happily offered him their full attention and respect.

  A smile lit his face as he watched a group of men put their arms around each other and join in a song that was sounding through the night sky. Flutes and drums matched the melody. The song eventually ended and a barrel of wine was dragged out near the officers who were sitting on their platform. A man filled a cup and walked to one of the most senior officers of Abellard named Orvious. This man had served under Orvious when invading with the siege tower to the east. The crowd quieted down and stared at the officer. Orvious took the cup and smiled. He then looked to Victus who gave him an assuring nod. The stocky officer from Abellard then put the wine to his lips and drained the cup. He then held it upside down to the delight of the soldiers. A cheer went up through the crowd.

  Another man filled a cup and did the same to his commander who, in turn, emptied the cup into his belly. As Victus watched and listened to the ensuing cheers, Ryon Ludlow, who had been noticeably missing, approached him from the crowd. The young officer stepped onto the dais and leaned down to his seated captain. Victus was waiting for him.

  Ryon leaned in and spoke directly into his captain’s ear. “The scouts have returned. They say a large army marches our way from the north. An army of orcs two to three times the size of ours...and they spott
ed several giants. They are just over a two day foot march from here.” Another cheer went up as another officer pounded his wine nearby.

  Victus nodded at Ryon then sat back straight in his chair and smiled as he watched the next officer, Bayloff, drink down a cup of wine and wipe the back of his hand across his lips. Then, just after Bayloff’s eyes met Victus’s, he hopped off the platform and grabbed a large pouring jug and filled it almost halfway with wine. All of the soldiers nearby drew closer and began to watch as Bayloff brought the jug toward their army’s leader. He dropped to one knee and held the jug up toward Victus. The crowd quieted and all eyes went to their leader.

  He looked around at the soldiers around him and then bent down. With a quick glance to Ryon Ludlow, he took the jug by both of its handles. There were over two cups of wine inside it. The news of the Faletonian army consumed his mind but The Captain forced the thought aside in order to live in the moment.

  “Victus…the conqueror!” Shouted Bayloff and the soldiers roared. The Captain looked again at Ryon Ludlow.

  “Victus…Victus the giant slayer!” Shouted another man in the crowd and again all the soldiers cheered.

  Captain Victus Antonel used both hands to bring the jug to his mouth. His wounded soldier ached while doing so. He began to drink. The ovation of the crowd grew with each sip. He drank and drank, and drank for his men. His head was tilted back as he finished the wine. Not a drop was wasted. Once finished, he turned the empty jug over and held it upside down with one hand. His other hand was raised to the other side leaving him in a stance of victory. The entire camp cheered. A loud chant of “Victus” erupted. Ryon took the jug from his captain who pumped his arms into the air. “Victus…Victus…Victus” it went on. It seemed so loud that all of Faletonia might hear it. Every man present looked back at Victus with admiration and hope, and The Captain seemed to glow with confidence.