An Empire Forged

by Michael Greenfield

  “An honour Commander,” The older of the two spoke, “I’m assuming that you’ll enlighten us as to what’s happening?”

  “Nothing good,” Farsighter grunted, “but that’s about to change.

  Ramon is moving the Bor’a garrison west, toward Holdur. Collett will bring the Joorat garrison north to meet up with them before retaking the keep at Holdur.

  We need that as a base for moving on the Shaler to the northwest and the J’dar to the northeast.”

  Looking disgusted, he continued, “The delay to our response has been caused by treachery, firstly at Holdur, then Bor’a.” He went on to explain what Dorrin and himself had discovered when they had reached the capital.

  “So, we’re to provide intelligence for Collett and Ramon?”

  “No, Collett already has scouts out taken from nearby villages and Ramon’s moving west to join him.

  We need to prevent the J’dar from moving to assist the Shaler force at Holdur and north of there.” Farsighter looked at the men about him, waiting for a response. It came from Balton.

  “I know we have quite a reputation in the Rangers, but I’ve got less than two hundred men, and that includes those out on patrol at the moment. I think taking on a couple of thousand J’dar might be stretching it.”

  Farsighter grinned at his old friend, “Only face to face. I don’t think we need to fight them at all.”

  “Supplies?”

  The two younger Rangers started to smile as Farsighter carried on. “Her Majesty discovered that all is not rosy with our J’dar friends. There’s a good number that don’t want to be fighting alongside the Mythraan and Shalers.

  We need to prevent those that do from joining the fray around and above Holdur, so all we need to do is stop them moving.”

  Quickly he outlined his plan, “If we start burning their supply points, they’ll have to move troops to protect them. I’m pretty certain that after three months of sitting around, doing nothing, the guards at those camps will be half asleep.

  We send half a dozen patrols out, ten to twelve men to a group, with instruction to find as many camps as possible and then cause as much damage as possible.

  Don’t engage in any pitch battles. Hit hard and fast, then get out.”

  Balton smiled appreciatively, “They’ll be frozen to the spot. No army can move with a hostile force to its rear. How far do we push?”

  “A couple of days along the Deeps. Any further and we’ll not be able to get to as many camps. If we can stop messengers from getting through as well, that’ll cause even more chaos.

  Leave them guessing as to exactly what’s going on.”

  “I’ll get a couple of lads to run down to Collett and let him know what we’re up to.”

  “Good idea. We need to move quickly, its almost certain that Nagril will be aware of what’s happened at Bor’a and will be getting the word out.

  We need to start the attacks before they can reorganise.”

  “Agreed. Gentlemen,” Balton addressed the other two officers, “you’d better get going.”

  “Sir!” Both responded in unison, before turning and leaving the office.

  “The first groups will be gone by sundown. So, what do we do?”

  Farsighter grunted, “We’ve got the worst job. We’re both too old to keep up with the youngsters on this one, we get to sit here and wait.”

  “Bugger!”

  Southward

  Harlin’s temper had been greatly reduced by the dwarven force’s early departure to head south. It felt good to be doing something rather than sitting back at Dwarfhome awaiting news.

  The weather had held fine as they made their way out of the mountains and started across the rolling hills that led to the M’ur Plain. The plain itself covered almost half the country, leading from those hills down to the coastal marshes that stretched between Ketla, the capital, and the sea.

  Now they were in M’ur proper, rather than the lands at the base of the mountains that were occasionally disputed by just about everyone in the area. The dwarves had long held that the lands were theirs, M’ur held to the same belief, and even Galorn occasionally turned up trying to expand westward.

  If Harlin were being honest, he would admit that there really wasn’t much about the lands that the dwarves actually wanted. It was more one of those things that had been argued about for so long that they continued more out of habit, rather than desire.

  He eased the rugged mountain pony he was riding over to the side of the trail. Pulling her to a stop he turned and gazed back along the column he was leading. As a rule, dwarves didn’t really ride much. For this march the bulk of the ponies they had with them were pulling wagons of supplies. Most of the warriors were marching on foot ahead of them.

  Coming toward him he saw Arlor, his younger son, approaching.

  “How bad’s the grumbling?”

  Arlor grinned as he pulled level with his father, “Not all that bad. It’ll change once we find someone to fight.”

  Harlin returned the grin, “Shouldn’t be too long now. We’re clear of our traditional holdings and can’t be more than a day or two from Darlin. Last I heard M’ur had a small garrison there.”

  “We’ve got scouts out that should be back any time.”

  “Good.”

  Almost as if his son was a prophet a shout went up the head of the column that had passed them while they spoke. Harlin turned back to regard the commotion.

  “What now?” As he looked, he saw two dwarves approaching. Both looked slightly out of breath as they jogged up.

  “My Lord,” the first started, “we’ve got news we don’t think you’ll like.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The second dwarf was the older of the pair, and had known Harlin for more years than either cared to count, “There’s no-one home Harlin.”

  “What do you mean there’s no-one home? I think your brains are not home!” Harlin sounded troubled.

  “We reached Darlin with no problem, but when we got there, we were alone.

  There wasn’t a single soul in the whole town. Garrison was empty as well. It looked as if everyone had simply upped and left. There were signs they had left in a hurry, but no trail southward.

  I’ve no explanation. Word of our advance wouldn’t have caused them to flee, and looking at what we found I’d say they’ve been gone for a while. Several months at least.”

  Harlin regarded what he had been told for a moment before speaking again, “Make camp here. Arlor, pass word that I want to see the chiefs as soon as we’re set.”

  “Yes father.” He quickly spun his own pony about and started along the line of dwarven warriors, searching out the chieftains.

  It was dusk by the time the camp was set. Harlin had a feeling that they would be here for several days, if not a few weeks.

  Outside his own tent he had set a fair size fire with several stools arrayed around it. He wasn’t sure where Arlon had found the stools, but they beat sitting on any old log they could find.

  He had already spoken to the cooks and shortly roast game and ale would be arriving. Maybe it was dwarf thing, he mused, but just because you’re having a meeting doesn’t mean you have to ignore everything else.

  Garron came strolling across. “So, you’ve got a plan?”

  Harlin glanced at his son, “I’ve always got a plan, but I don’t deny that someone may have a better one.” He laughed, “Not often though, and I’d never admit it in public.”

  “Of course,” Garron laughed with him, “they should be here any time.”

  “Good. Have any more scouts reported in?”

  “No, though I wouldn’t expect any until tomorrow at the earliest.”

  Any further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the first couple of chieftains. They acknowledged Harlin before taking a seat around the fire. It wasn’t a particularly cold night, but there was a slight chill to the air, so the fire was welcome.

  Harlin nodded to each of them
in turn, before taking his own spot around the blaze. Seven other chieftains turned up in the next few minutes. A dwarven chieftain was really the head of an extended family, not the clan chief that a lot of humans assumed they were. Several families made up the clan, though each individual family carried a lot of influence.

  Once they were all set, and food and ale had been distributed Harlin decided to get the meeting started.

  “Gentlemen, I’m sure you’ve heard some of the rumours that started flying about this afternoon.” He got several nods from those assembled.

  “Our first scouts have returned from Darlin where they have found precisely nothing. And by nothing, I mean exactly that.

  The town has been deserted, no-one left behind.”

  Muttering erupted around the circle. “How can a town disappear?” The voice came from Listgar, head of the Family Garn.

  “That we don’t know yet. I’ve ordered more scouts to Darlin and to the area south of the town to see if they went that way.”

  “The rumours say that it appeared to have been cleared out months ago.”

  Harlin nodded, “That appears to be true.

  Gentlemen,” he held a hand up to stop the sudden outburst of voices, “we don’t have all the information at this moment. Until we do, I’m ordering the march to be halted.”

  The muttering started again so he raised his voice, “We need to know what we’re marching into.”

  “What’s out there that we can’t handle?” Listgar had always been hasty in his decision making.

  “That’s what I want to know. We have Shaler and J’dar to our west, and an unfriendly Galorn to our east. The idea for this march was to place ourselves where we could best help our friends from Bor’a, but that doesn’t include walking into another force about which we know nothing.”

  This time the murmurs appeared to be in agreement with the Dwarf Lord. “So, we sit and wait?”

  “I don’t see another option for the moment, unless one of you can think of something?”

  This time it was Velnar, of Family Kern, who responded, “You’re right, none of us want to walk into something we don’t know about.

  I suggest that we step up the patrols leading the column and reduce our pace. That way we can still keep moving, but we increase our safety margins if we do find anything.

  I also think we should spend the time to investigate Darlin properly to see if we can learn anything the patrol may have missed.”

  They all considered this for a moment, several of the Chiefs whispering with each other.

  “We’ll camp here for a couple of days,” Harlin spoke quietly, “then move to Darlin when we’re sure the area’s clear. We can send some dwarves to investigate the town whilst we wait.

  I prefer to hold in the open where we can see what’s coming at us, and the ridgeline behind us is reasonably defensible if needs be.”

  “Agreed,” Velnar glanced to see if anyone else wanted to add anything to the discussion, but everyone was nodding or keeping their thoughts to themselves. “Very well, let’s stop being maudlin and get serious about the drinking.”

  Harlin joined the laughter as his eyes sought out Velnar’s. He nodded his thanks to the other dwarf who raised his mug in acknowledgement.

  Introductions

  Three weeks after dispatching his messengers, even Kormick was starting to get irritable at the lack of anything to do. During that three weeks there had been nothing productive that could be done. Myriana had filled him in with as much detail as possible, but until the Lords arrived it was all for nothing.

  He had taken the opportunity to get to know the Makkisen better and had nearly fainted with excitement the day Kosmiir had allowed him up onto his back for a brief ride around the grounds. Cal had demonstrated his prowess with his Lighter bow, hitting randomly picked targets as if they were no more than twenty yards away, no matter how difficult the shot.

  But even those brief interludes had done little to relieve the tedium. Kormick smiled to himself as he admitted that most of the problem was caused by his own desire to own a nice house in the country. It was lovely for when he wanted to get away from it all, but completely useless when he wanted to see anyone quickly.

  Cal came wandering out onto the veranda where the Duke was currently sitting.

  “Morning.”

  “Good morning Cal, you look as restless as I feel.”

  They both had a good laugh, before Cal pulled a seat close to the Duke. “This is the first time in months I’ve just sat around doing nothing. It feels very strange.”

  “What about your time in Agorel?”

  “That was different. We needed Tamala to spend some time with Asrak to learn more about her powers, and I spent time trying to learn some more about the Lighters.

  We were there a while, but there was almost always something to do.”

  “I know what you mean.” Further conversation was interrupted by one of the servants approaching.

  “My Lord, riders approach the southern gate.”

  “At last. Well Cal, shall we go and see if it’s the people we’re waiting for, or whether you’re going to get to play with your bow today.”

  Cal nodded, sprinting to the room he was using to grab his bow before running back down the stairs to join Kormick at the front door. Although they were expecting friends and potential allies, none of them were forgetting the fact that down in Mid’gra the King had been deposed and they weren’t sure who they could trust.

  Presently, the pair of riders they had seen coming up the road to the house eased to a halt in front of the pair. Kormick had already rested his hand on Cal’s arm to get him to lower his bow, as he had recognised both riders as they approached.

  “Marton, Torran, welcome both of you.”

  “My thanks My Lord Duke.” The taller of the pair responded.

  “Forget the titles man,” he laughed at them as the dismounted, “by the end of this we’ll be lucky if we still have them anyway.”

  “Sorry?” The other looked quizzically at Kormick whilst Cal took the opportunity to study them both. Marton, the first to have spoken was nearly as tall as Astridson, lithe and athletic, though his hair was dark. Torran was only slightly shorter with greying hair, but had the look of a man who enjoyed his food a little too much. His girth was quite impressive. His dark eyes studied Cal in return.

  “And who’s your friend Kormick?”

  “Gentlemen, Baron Calmagyr of Bor’a.”

  Cal nodded in acknowledgement as the two arrivals replied in turn.

  “Please, let’s get inside and serve up some refreshments. You’re the first to arrive of those I’ve invited, and I think we should wait until all are here before we start explanations.

  I really don’t want to repeat myself too often.”

  Kormick led them all into the house and back to the veranda that Cal and himself had been sat on shortly before.

  “Cal and his companions are deeply involved in what we need to speak of, so you may feel free to talk in front of them.”

  Torran was the first to speak, “Companions?”

  “Yes, though until the others get here, you’ll only meet one of them.”

  Marton raised an eyebrow at this, “I’m guessing this has something to do with what’s happening in Mid’gra.”

  “I should have known you would be well informed.”

  “Perhaps not as informed as I thought I was, I don’t recall a Baron Calmagyr on the Rolls at Bor’a.”

  It was Cal’s turn to smile, “A recent appointment. I did someone a favour and find myself punished with nobility.”

  All three of the other men laughed, “I like this one Kormick.” Tarron winked at Cal. “So, what of the other we may meet?”

  “That would be me.” Astridson stood by the door, watching them.

  “A Lighter!”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  Much of the rest of the day was spent basically getting to know the newcomers. Whilst some of C
al’s background was kept intentionally vague, most of Astridson’s was a matter of public record for anyone looking him up in the Records Office at Mid’gra, so there was no real need to hide any of his background.

  The following day four of the remaining Lords that Kormick had sent for arrived. Lords Yeldon and Cavana arrived accompanied by the only man invited who didn’t technically hold a rank of nobility, Master Merchant Guilmor Periman. Periman’s shipping business had made him an extremely rich man, and with that had come a great deal of influence. As far as most of the kingdom was concerned, he was just as important and powerful as any court noble.

  The last to arrive was Duke Vilstrom, whose Duchy began several days east of Mid’gra. His family was one of the oldest in the realm and could trace their lineage back to the original families that had backed Lord Galorn when he created his kingdom.

  The only one not to arrive was Duke Peres, which had Kormick troubled, though he didn’t say anything aloud.

  The Duke made sure they were comfortable, and again explained that all would be revealed that evening, after dinner. Cal made sure to keep Myriana informed, still a bit bemused by the plan that she and Kormick had come up with to wait until everyone was here before she revealed herself, though he couldn’t deny that they needed to take all the precautions they could. She had spent the last few days secluded in her own room with meals being brought up to her by the servants. The seclusion hadn’t really caused her any discomfort as it gave her a chance to think further on what they had to do.

  That evening the six lords and Periman, along with Kormick, Cal and Astridson, enjoyed a pleasant meal after which Kormick ushered them all into his library. Myriana was sat waiting for them.

  “My Lords,” Kormick began, “may I present my niece, Her Majesty Queen Myriana of Bor’a.”

  Periman was the first to recover his composure. He bowed deeply, “Majesty, an honour. I am surprised though, what happened to your father, King Sielan?”

  “Something about which we will cover in our discussions, Master Merchant.” If he was surprised that Myriana knew his identity he didn’t show it.