An Empire Forged

by Michael Greenfield

  “Gentlemen, I want you to take careful note of this conversation, you may well be asked to repeat it during the trial.”

  The guardsmen looked confused. Bor’a was their Lord and commander, but Dorrin looked totally calm and unconcerned by their presence. Not the actions of someone who felt they were on anything but safe ground.

  “My Lord,” Dorrin continued, “would you like to explain in front of these men why you’ve seen fit to deprive Commander Ramon of vital information he needs in order to fight off the invasion our lands face?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My recommendations are made with the full knowledge of the Royal Council.” Sweat was starting to form on his brow as he spoke.

  “And you’ve advised them that they should take no action. You have the full information provided by the Rangers and yet you are happy to watch troops sat around doing nothing.”

  Several of the guards started to raise their swords again, although this time they were looking squarely at Lord Bor’a.

  “It’s lies. You have no proof, just the word of men that have stolen into the palace and attacked palace guards.”

  “Well I believe them.” The words cut across the room from where Ramon stood, silently observing from the shadows in the corner. Heads turned as he stepped forward. Voices could be heard murmuring as the Commander revealed himself.

  “Bor’a,” he purposefully left out his title as he addressed the man, “I confirm Colonel Dorrin’s actions. You are hereby charged with treason.

  Your actions have been complicit in a plan that has included the murder of His Majesty the King.” This time the murmuring was distinctly louder.

  “You will also be charged as an accomplice to the kidnap of Her Majesty Queen Myriana, and providing misleading information to the military commanders here, thereby infringing upon their ability to defend the Kingdom.

  If I were you, I’d have a good, long think about whether its all worth it, and how much you need to tell us before we think you might have saved your life.”

  Bor’a slumped back in his chair, a look of total defeat on his face. “It was Nagril, he’s the one you want.”

  “Nagril? Tamala saw him helping the Shalers at Holdur.” Dorrin stepped closer to Bor’a, “I think you need to talk very fast.”

  Farsighter turned to one of the guards, “Is Nagril in the palace?”

  “He left for the camp two days ago.”

  “Well, we know he didn’t go to the camp. So where did he go?”

  Morning View

  Cal, Myriana and Astridson had left the dwarves behind several days earlier. The area surrounding her uncle’s country residence was well known for its quiet, rolling hills and beautiful scenery. A reputation that he had worked hard to maintain. Regular patrols made by his own men ensured that no brigands felt safe enough to take up residency nearby, and travellers were confident they would pass unmolested.

  The only risk the trio feared was if they met up with any of the patrols of the Galorn army, though the Makkisen were able to give warning if they smelled or heard the approach of any large group.

  Cal had been pleasantly surprised at how easy the trip had been so far, not to mention the stunning views. It seemed strange that he could enjoy the journey so much when he knew what was riding upon it.

  “Gorgeous isn’t it?” Myriana had spotted him daydreaming.

  “I was thinking of Tamala’s wanting a house with a view of the mountains, perhaps I might try and convince her to move here.”

  Astridson nudged closer to the other two, “You could do worse. Duke Kormick is known to be a fair lord, looking out for the people who live within his lands.”

  “Nice to know, as we’re about to fling ourselves upon his mercy.”

  “Cal!” Myriana feigned being shocked, but a sparkle in her eyes made it certain she was teasing, “How could you suggest such a thing?”

  Cal grinned, “Only making sure we’re ready for anything.”

  “I think I need to speak with Collett about your recent promotion,” she stuck her tongue out and then spurned Halsturm to quicken their pace toward the country house they were rapidly approaching.

  The main building was large, Cal couldn’t begin to guess at how many rooms, and the immediate surrounding area held a stunningly maintained garden. A low wall surrounded it all, with an ornate gate standing where the road entered the grounds themselves.

  He could see several people tending to the gardens, and around the side of the house he could here the usual commotion caused by people hard at work. The main entrance was a pair of sturdy looking wooden doors, of which one stood open to allow the cooling breeze to filter through the house itself.

  From the doorway they could see a pair of men shouting back inside, whilst a third strode down the short pathway between the house and the wall.

  Myriana arrived ahead of the other two, calling to the nearer man.

  “Hello the house!” Halsturm came to a halt, and the young queen swiftly dismounted.

  “Welcome to Morning View, how may I be of assistance, my Lady?” The man was barely older than Cal and wore what he took to be the house uniform for Duke Kormick’s servants.

  “A beautiful name, is the Duke in residence?”

  “He is, my Lady. Would you like me to announce you?”

  “I don’t think that will necessary.” As she spoke Cal saw a distinguished looking, middle-aged gentleman striding down the pathway toward them. His iron grey hair was cut short and he also sported a tight cut goatee. Despite his age, there was no sign of the usual middle-aged spread that Cal had come to associate with many of the older villagers he had known. He looked and acted a lot more like Collett, moving with a feline economy of movement as he strode.

  The man’s face lit up as he recognised the young lady in front of him. “Myri! Gods, what are you doing here?”

  Throwing herself into her uncle’s arms, Myriana couldn’t contain her delight at seeing him. They held each other for a moment before he laughingly repeated his question.

  “Oh Uncle. Just the usual, usurping power, saving the Kingdom and defeating a great threat to us all.”

  “What? What do you mean usurping power?”

  She stepped back from him a pace, “Inside.” Kormick raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more on the issue, “Allow me to introduce you to my companions.

  The tall youth with the big sword is Baron Calmagyr Ironsson, Knight Lieutenant of the Royal Guard. His smiling friend is Captain Franc Astridson of the Galorn army.

  He would have a better title, but as a Galorn he won’t let me give him anything.” He pulled a face as she stared at him.

  “Welcome gentlemen, let us adjourn inside where we can have a cold drink and talk of the real reasons as to why you’re here.” He motioned for two of the servants to come over and look after the ‘horses’.

  “That won’t be necessary My Lord.” Astridson noted. He and Cal dismounted, removing their packs once they had and passing them to the servants. One of them took Myriana’s pack as well, before Astridson turned to Kosmiir, “We’ll call if we need anything, but I think we may be here a while.”

  This time Cal could enjoy the moment, as Kormick heard the voice in his head of the Makkisen lord responding. “As you wish, though we might be back to use the stables if the weather turns.”

  Kormick bowed profoundly, “My Lord, whatever you require is yours but to ask.”

  The horse-like Lord whinnied in thanks. All stood and watched them gallop off into the distance, heading toward a small copse to the north of the estate.

  “Makkisen, I never thought I’d see the day we were so graced in my humble home.” Kormick turned away from the sight of their departure and faced Astridson, “Then you would be a Lighter?”

  “I am My Lord.”

  “Then my House has been doubly blessed. Please.” He motioned toward the doorway and they briskly followed their host.

  The main hall of the house passed all
the way through to a pair of large, glass doors that opened out onto the back, where an even larger garden spread away into the distance.

  Kormick led them into a large room off the right-hand side of the hall, toward the rear of the house. Servants had already placed a tray on one of the several small tables, upon which was a pitcher of cool fruit juice and four glasses. Several large chairs also were also dotted around the room, with a large bookcase taking up the far wall.

  A single servant stood near the table with the pitcher and as each of them took a seat a drink was swiftly brought to them and placed on smaller tables by each chair. Once all were seated, the servant nodded once to the Duke and then left.

  “So, as I was saying. What do you mean by usurp?” Kormick raised the glass to his lips but didn’t take his eyes of the three of them.

  Myriana answered with a question of her own, “What news do you have from Mid’gra?”

  Now the Duke’s expression clouded. “Nothing good. What do you know of what’s happening there? I’ve an uncomfortable feeling more than I do.”

  “Probably. Astridson, would you explain?”

  The Lighter pondered for a moment before starting to explain. He began with things that Cal and Myriana were unaware of, as they happened before Cal arrived aboard Dorrin’s brother’s ship, the Hurricane. Talk of officers being sent from Mid’gra with no reasonable explanation, the absence of the King, and news that Baridon was in control of the capitol.

  He continued with Cal and Tamala’s journey to Agorel and onward to rescue Myriana from the J’dar. The Duke remained silent as the tale was told, maintaining the same calm look of thoughtfulness as Cal took up the story to fill in some of the detail before they reached Galorn, including Myriana’s kidnapping at the hands of the Mythraan.

  The Duke silence continued as the youngster spoke, waiting for the tale to be complete before commenting. When Cal had finished there was a pause before he responded.

  “We’d heard that there was trouble at the palace, but we thought it was the usual to and fro of politics. We have still been receiving pronouncements under the royal seal, but a lot of what you say does fit with ugly rumours that have begun to surface.

  I was planning to make my way down to Mid’gra next month to attend the Seasonal Council.”

  “It may be a better idea if you held your own council here uncle.” Myriana pressed on, “We have no idea where the King is, or if he’s even still alive. My own father is proof that our enemy will not shirk at the idea of regicide.

  Who do you know that you trust?”

  The tall Duke sat back in his chair and thought for a moment, “I can think of three Dukes I can be certain would not be involved in this, and probably half a dozen other lords.

  Of the army I can only think of one man we need to contact. Word reached me a few weeks ago that General Jerito had been dispatched to Dorn, but to Ren, not the capital Tol.

  If he was arranging some sort of military agreement he would have gone to the capital. Sending him to Ren smacks of keeping him out of the way.”

  “Why not just remove him and replace him with someone they can use?” the question came from Cal.

  “He has too much influence with too many people, keeping him out of the way is easier than the questions that would arise otherwise. We’ve seen the power of the throne being misused, but without someone like Jerito to stand up to it people are too scared, or unsure of themselves, to be able to act.”

  “Then we need to talk with your Dukes and Lords firstly. Once we’ve decided on a course of action we can act.

  If that’s sending for Jerito, that’s what we’ll do. How quickly can you organise a meeting?” Kormick had never heard Myriana speak as a commanding Queen before, but he almost jumped to attention at it now.

  He looked to the other two, “She doesn’t wait once a decision has been made, does she?”

  Cal laughed, “Do you really think I’m going to answer that?”, the young queen glared at him.

  “No, perhaps not. I can have messengers away within the hour. We probably looking at anything between a week and ten days before everyone gets here, possibly as long as a fortnight.”

  Myriana didn’t look happy at that news, but she was also aware that the distances involved meant that even a fortnight would involve many exhausted horses.

  “In the meantime, my house is your house. Did Mel, the servant that greeted you, tell you its name?”

  This time Myriana beamed as she replied, “He did. ‘Morning View’, a name I assume that was not picked as just some fancy?”

  “No,” Kormick grinned in response, “I’ll have someone wake you just before sun-up tomorrow and let you enjoy the main reason I bought this humble abode.”

  Cal groaned. He had really been looking forward to a lie in for the first time in many days, in a real bed as well. “Before sun-up?”

  The tension was broken as the other three all laughed at his regret.

  Adjutant

  Captain Nega Westrom slowly rode up to the southern barricade of the camp of the Joorat garrison. A sergeant saluted as he saw the uniform partially hidden by the cloak that he wore.

  “Captain Westrom, reporting as ordered.”

  “We’ve been expecting you, Sir. If you will follow me, I’ll take you to Commander Collett.”

  “Collett?”

  “Yes Sir, he arrived a few weeks ago.”

  Westrom just nodded, nudging his mount forward to follow the burly sergeant. He was led through the now bustling camp to the command tent, where a private took his horse and led it away, leaving him carrying a small bundle he had taken from the pack as he dismounted.

  “They’ll get your pack to your tent. The Commander wants to see you as soon as you arrive.”

  Again Westrom nodded his agreement, before being shown in through the entrance. Inside he could see Collett talking to a couple of senior officers, so he stood and waited for them to finish. A few moments later the Commander glanced his way and broke of his conversation.

  “Gentlemen, Captain Westrom and myself have a few things to discuss. I’ll call for you when we’ve finished.”

  The two officers gave Westrom a sour look as they were dismissed but said nothing as they left.

  “Don’t worry about them, they’re going to have a whole bundle of other things to be worrying over shortly.” Collett held out a hand, which Westrom took, before motioning for a seat near the tent wall.

  “Firstly, did you bring it?” Collett was already staring at the cloth bundle.

  “Yes.” Westrom pulled the cloth aside to reveal a misty glass sphere, roughly six inches in diameter.

  “A Farglobe, thank the Gods. You’ve no idea how lost I’ve been without one of them to use. I found a magic-user at one of the nearby villages and he knows how to use it.”

  “Excuse me Sir, but are you saying the army marched without any Farglobes or people to use them?”

  “Believe me, that’s not the worst of it.” As they sat, Collett called for one of the guards to go and get some hot drinks. Whilst they waited for him to return, Collett asked Westrom how much Dorrin had told him when he travelled through Mor Drek on his way to Leefs’elm.

  Westrom was just finishing his explanation of what he had been told when the drinks arrived. “The message summoning me had a brief description of what had happened after, but not much detail.

  I understand that Her Majesty has been rescued, and that you are now planning for the liberation of northern Boraan. Aside from that, I’m not much further from the dark than I was.”

  Collett chuckled, “You’ve got the basics right enough. The detail is that Her Majesty hasn’t returned to Boraan. She’s off on a mission of her own to Galorn.”

  The shocked look on Westrom’s face wasn’t exactly unexpected to the Commander. “Let me fill you in on the detail.”

  Some time later Westrom leaned forward in his seat, “So we’ve basically been running around blind, jumping to whatever tune the M
ythra like?”

  “Pretty much, but now we’re going to do something about that.

  Dorrin and Farsighter were sent to Bor’a and their garrison. Now that we’ve got a Farglobe I’m hoping we can get some positive news for a change.”

  Both men stared at the sphere of glass, “I guess there’s no time like the present.”

  Collett nodded, “I guess so.” He called one of the guards again and asked that he go and get the magic-user he’d found several days ago.

  Dorrin was resting in the room he was using whilst they stayed at the palace, lying on the bed with his eyes closed but not sleeping. A sharp knock at the door brought him upright, swinging his feet over the side of the mattress.

  “Yes,” One of the palace runners, a youngster of perhaps twelve years of age, entered the room.

  “Your presence is requested in the Globe Room, My Lord.”

  “Of course. Thank you.”

  The lad took that to mean he was dismissed and turned to leave. “A moment,” Dorrin gave him an embarrassed look, “where is the Globe Room?”

  Just minutes later he entered a room about midway up the northern tower of the building. Farsighter was already there, along with Ramon and Teegan. Before them sat a magic-user, his concentration focused on the Farglobe in front of him.

  “Dorrin’s here Avrim.”

  Collett let out a relieved sigh, now that they had communications established between the two portions of the army his job became a lot easier.

  “Gentlemen, this is really just a quick get together to appraise each other of the current situation.

  The Joorat garrison is almost ready to start northward, how are things there?”

  Dorrin and Ramon speedily filled in the Commander, regarding the discovery that Duke Bor’a had been in league with Nagril, and that it was they who had been giving contrary orders to the army and others during the last few months.