An Empire Forged

by Michael Greenfield

“Dear Gods, get a tent set up and see that he’s tended to.” He swung his head about, looking for Garron. His son, he saw, had followed his father over to the group and was waiting for his instruction. “We set camp here. Make sure we get a healer over here immediately. I want this man fit enough to talk as soon as possible.”

  “Of course, father.” Garron headed straight toward the rear of the column, where he new the few wagons carrying medical supplies and the healers were.

  “You men,” Harlin returned his attention to the dwarves that had first caught his attention, “get some water and see if you can clean him up. And try and find some decent clothing for him.”

  He turned back to the column itself and went in search of nearby clan chiefs to appraise them of what had been found.

  Harlin waited some time before he made his way to the tent where the man was being seen to. From the short time he had seen him earlier it was obvious that he was in shock and probably scared for his life, he was in the middle of a dwarf army.

  The sun had set, and the camp was lit by small cooking fires and the occasional torch, though most of the dwarves refrained from lighting too many torches as the wanted to cut the glow cast by the camp to a minimum. You couldn’t stop the light from the camp completely, but every little helped.

  In front of the tent stood a single guard, who nodded as he approached.

  “How is he?”

  “The healers say he should recover, though he’s not eaten for a while. They got him something and he seems to be talking, so I’d say he’s going to be alright.”

  “That’s something,” he drew back the entrance to the tent, glancing back at the guard, “make sure we’re not disturbed. I don’t want to spook him by crowding him before he’s ready.”

  The guard nodded his agreement, leaving Harlin to enter the tent. A small torch provided light, and by it he could see the man lying on a cot that had been provided from their supplies. He seemed to be asleep.

  Harlin considered whether to leave him to get some rest, but almost as he made the decision a deep voice interrupted him.

  “I’m guessing you want answers?” The voice was deep, and sounder younger than he had expected.

  Taking a seat opposite the resting man, Harlin responded, “That would be nice.

  Let’s start with who are you?”

  Pulling himself upright, the man swung his feet over the edge of the pallet and looked directly at the dwarf Lord.

  “I’m Captain Jared Qar’a, formerly of His Majesty’s Guard.”

  “You’re a soldier? What happened?”

  The Captain waved a hand in frustration, “What hasn’t happened? We responded to calls for help from some of the outlying villages, but when we got there, we found no-one to help.”

  “We’ve seen the same as we’ve marched.”

  “We withdrew to Nella, there’s a small garrison there and we thought to combine our forces and get messages to Ketla, but we never got a chance to move back out.

  The second day at Nella we were surrounded by a force of Shaler and J’Dar. Gods, there were so many of them. We tried to organise our defences, but as soon as we thought we were ready something else appeared.

  I don’t know what it was, or where it came from, but it tore through us like we were wheat just ripe for harvest. Then the cloaked one turned up.”

  “Cloaked one?” Harlin leant forward to hear better.

  “I couldn’t see him too well. His cloak had a hood that covered his face from view. He started some sort of incantation whilst the others started rounding people up.

  They even took the wounded!”

  The dwarf stared hard at the Captain. “Why would they take the wounded, and what happened to the dead?”

  “I don’t know about the wounded, but the dead were piled high and then some sort of magic fire was used to burn them away. Nothing was left, not even dust.

  Those that were still alive were taken to some sort of passage created by the cloaked one and forced through it. That was the last I saw of them.”

  Harlin was disturbed by what he was hearing, but he nodded for the man to continue.

  “I managed to escape the round-up and decided to make my way to Ketla to raise the alarm and call out the army, but I wasn’t the first to arrive.

  Many had managed to escape the attacks, but the gate to Ketla itself was barred. They’re not letting anyone in.”

  Harlin’s eyes opened wide in shock, “They’re not moving the people behind the walls? But if they’re left outside, how do they expect to protect them?”

  “They don’t. The King has ordered the gates shut and they’re to stay shut. He fears that whatever this is, it’s heading for Ketla and he doesn’t want to risk letting it in.

  I spoke to several other officers outside the wall, all reported similar stories. Villages, towns, it didn’t matter the size, they all suffered the same fate.

  Our people are being systematically taken and the King won’t do anything about it.”

  Harlin started cursing, and he wasn’t very quiet about it. The guard outside the tent entered, looking for any obvious sign of danger, but saw none other than the older dwarf himself. Harlin looked ready to explode.

  “Get Garron and Arlor. Let the others know that we move at pace as soon as it’s light enough.”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  “And send a messenger to Collett. This can’t wait, he needs to know what’s happening here.”

  He returned his attention to the man on the cot. “Captain Qar’a, perhaps you’d like to accompany us back to the capital. If your King is willing to leave half his population out on the plain before the city walls, then I think he needs reminding of his responsibilities.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, My Lord.”

  Revelation

  Tamala raised her head as she heard someone approach. She was, as she had been for too many hours over the last few weeks, sat in one of the many large chambers beneath the temple. It was well lit, but very dusty, causing many sneezing fits. It was the kind of place most people would avoid if possible, or only stay a short time if not. Tamala spent more time than most here for one simple reason. The room was full of books.

  She was sure that amongst the multitude of written works contained in this chamber, and the several adjoining ones, the Seers held most of the knowledge of the known world, and probably quite a bit from worlds unknown.

  That there was information down here that would help her friends and herself in their respective tasks there was no doubt. Unfortunately, the Seers had no organised way of keeping the volumes. They were haphazardly shelved in no particular order, not even by general subject.

  The source of her disturbance came into view in the form of a young boy, no more than twelve or thirteen years old. He carried several old tomes in his arms and looked to be struggling slightly with the weight.

  Tamala nodded toward the far end of the table she sat at, “Thank you. I’ll take them back once I’ve finished with them.”

  “Of course, my Lady. Arlena asked me see if you would join her in the garden.”

  Tamala smiled, the first time she had been asked to go to the garden she had been confused, as she had seen no garden since entering the temple. It had never occurred to her until then that the flowers and plants she saw every day around the temple had to come from somewhere.

  At some time in the past, it had been decided that much of the man-made defences of the temple weren’t really needed. The walls were topped with archer platforms and towers for defence from attack that was only ever going to come from the direction of the path leading up through the mountains to it’s gate. There was no route of attack from any other direction due to the natural obstacles presented by the mountainous terrain on all the remaining sides.

  As such, large areas of the tops of the remaining walls had been converted. Shallow walls crossed the walkways at the top, providing a barrier allowing soil to be laid down and, with careful nurturing, a more than decent
bounty of vegetables and flowers was present most of the year round.

  It took several minutes for her to reach the gardens, where she found Arlena working her way through a patch of potatoes, removing weeds from the rows of vegetables.

  “You wanted to see me?” Without thinking the young sorceress knelt beside the Seer and started to weed a small section herself.

  “Ah, Tamala. How goes the studying?” Arlena never raised her head but kept her attention on the invading plants in front of her.

  Tamala smiled, “Not quite as expected.”

  “Oh?”

  The redhead laid down the small trowel she had picked up and turned her head to face the older woman. “I’ll be honest that I thought when Asrak directed me to come here, I thought that there would be someone here who would actually teach me.” She shook her head ruefully.

  “I hadn’t expected, or even dreamt of, the fact that what you actually have here is a vast library for me to study. God’s, I’m only just now beginning to get an idea of what I need to study.”

  The Seer turned her own attention fully to the young sorceress, “Then your learning is truly beginning. It’s a shame that I don’t think you’ll have as long as you want.”

  “Why would you say that,” concern filled her voice, “have you heard something?

  “No,” Arlena smiled, “and I may be making much out of nothing.

  The watchers down the mountain by the gate have noted that the patrols around there have stopped. Some went in search of them to see if they were perhaps just changing men or something, but they found hastily abandoned camps.

  I would guess that some of your friends have started to cause serious trouble for the Mythra.”

  “That’s good news!”

  “Possibly not.” Tamala almost jumped out of her skin at Luda’s voice directly behind her, and Arlena could not resist laughing out loud.

  “You can move quietly for one so big, My Lord.”

  “My Lady.” Luda bowed to the older woman and then turned a grin to his father’s former ward. “Our host asked me to join you up here as well, but I was practicing with my sword so I thought you might appreciate me freshening up first.”

  Tamala laughed as well, “You’re right about that. Why do you say possibly not?”

  Luda sat on the side of the wall, staring off into the distance as he composed his thoughts. “We have to assume that the enemy know where you’ve gone. You already demonstrated to them that you have access to this ‘Source’ as you call it. And if that’s true, then I would guess that they know of the library here.” He glanced to Arlena for confirmation and she nodded her head.

  “That makes this the obvious place for you to learn more.

  If that’s true, and our friend’s have given them a bloody nose somewhere, then I would guess that their next move would be possibly to try and do something here.

  I don’t know if there are any mystical wards or something protecting this place, but they may feel the need to try and either slow you down or take you out of the equation all together.”

  Both ladies nodded at Luda’s supposition before Tamala spoke.

  “From what little I’ve learned so far I would be surprised if there were any permanent kind of magical defence here. Arlena?”

  “You’re correct. Certain spells can be maintained indefinitely, such as the one that hides the gateway to the path leading here, but even that needs topping up with life energy every few days. Not much, and all are volunteers, but it still requires some.

  To maintain some sort of physical barrier would be beyond what we could safely keep going. Even for one such as Tamala, who can access the source, she would have to concentrate on maintaining it round the clock. She wouldn’t need any extra life force to do it, but eventually exhaustion would catch up with her purely from lack of sleep.”

  “So why is Tamala here if you’re unable to use this source magic yourself?”

  Tamala responded before Arlena could, “Knowledge.

  Source magic is very similar to what we term normal magic, but there are subtle differences.

  I can’t just throw the Source about the way I usually would. For some things the difference is so small as to really make no difference. Remember in the desert when I reached out with my mind to talk to Dorrin.”

  “I seem to recall that you were looking for Her Majesty and accidently reached half a continent away,” Luda was grinning as he interrupted.

  Tamala gave him a dirty look before carrying on, “As I was saying, when I spoke to Dorrin, that spell was so similar using both methods that it was relatively easy to switch my thought process and use the Source.

  You mentioned some sort of physical barrier,” she addressed the Seer, “you’re right that it would need maintaining, but the other issue using source magic is that it would have to flow through just one sorcerer. Using life force instead, the spell requires four or five magic users all casting their part of the spell at the same time.

  It requires a different thought process in order to join all the parts into a single spell.”

  “I think my head’s starting to hurt.” Luda made a show of scratching his head vigorously.

  Tamala laughed, “You’re not the only one. The books that are contained in the caverns beneath this temple hold knowledge that’s not been used for thousands of years.

  What I’m trying to do now is find works by mages from the past who had access to the Source and use their writings to frame my own way of thinking about it.”

  “So how long will it take for you to learn?”

  This time both ladies laughed, though it was the elder who answered. “I’m afraid that Tamala has set herself the task of a lifetime. Even when she’s old and grey she’ll still be reading these books.”

  Luda now looked confused, “Then what use is this to our cause?”

  “Oh, believe me, I’ll be more than able to aid the cause. It’s just that there will be so much more to learn even once we’ve restored peace.”

  Luda didn’t look entirely convinced, but he let it be, nodding as if he understood. Neither of the other two looked as if they believed him.

  “Getting back to the original subject, if the Mythra have suffered a setback at the hands of Collett and the others, then here would be an obvious target to strike next. Attempting to stop you from aiding would be the logical thing to do.”

  “I can’t leave yet, and that’s the only thing I can think of that would provide safety to the temple and the people who reside here.” Tamala looked troubled as she contemplated the danger she was putting those around her in.

  “Then I need to work on my sword practice, don’t I?”

  Smiling ruefully, Tamala replied, “I guess so.”

  A plan revised

  The afternoon had passed pleasantly enough, but Myriana was still fidgeting where she sat. She was again out the back of the house, basically just passing the time whilst they awaited word from the men that they had dispatched to carry the fake trade agreement to Mid’gra. At least this time they wouldn’t have to wait for them to complete the trip in both directions. Kormick had provided the men with pigeons so they could get word back as quickly as possible.

  Commotion from the side of the house roused her from the relaxed afternoon she was being forced to endure. Rising quickly, she walked round beside the garden to see what the noise was about.

  Her uncle Kormick stood talking to a man she didn’t know, though that was hardly surprising as there were nearly fifty people working on the estate. Kormick saw her approach and sent the man into the house. She also noted two other men disappearing round the far corner of the house.

  “News?”

  Kormick nodded but his face didn’t offer the chance of it being good. “We don’t need to wait to find out if the King will receive our agreement.” He passed the small piece of message paper to his niece.

  “Peres didn’t make it here for the meeting because he’s been executed.” Myriana’s hand flew t
o her mouth, dismay displayed across her face.

  Kormick waved toward the message, “The detail is contained in that, but it looks as if my request for him to join us was intercepted. Baridon ordered him arrested and when he wouldn’t provide any further details he was ordered hung.”

  Periman, Cal and Astridson had just arrived and heard his comment. Periman was the first to speak.

  “Peres, I can’t believe it. If Baridon’s confident enough to kill Peres, then he must feel he’s got total control.”

  “No,” Kormick interrupted, “he’s panicking. If he was confident, he’d have let Peres come here and then sweep us all up together.”

  “Which raises the question,” Astridson looked toward the horizon as he spoke, “how long have we got?”

  “Probably not long enough.” Kormick motioned for a nearby soldier before continuing, “We need to leave here and try to get the word out.”

  The man he had signalled looked toward the area of the building where his men stayed whilst the Duke was in residence. “When do we leave My Lord?”

  “As soon as we can, send someone to get the others and then get the men prepared.” He didn’t need to tell the man who then others were, he new immediately that his Lord meant the other nobles staying here. “Tell them to meet us in the library.”

  “My Lord.”

  “Shall we?” Kormick motioned toward the interior of the house.

  Just a few minutes later the others had joined them, Kormick explaining the news they had received.

  “I think this just about confirms the news my niece brought us; does anyone disagree?” he looked about him, but no-one spoke up.

  Cal now stood behind Myriana’s chair. His sword making the only statement he needed, as he had raced to his room and grabbed it immediately the captain of Kormick’s guard had left them. His purpose as bodyguard to Her Majesty plain for all to see.

  “In that case, we need to decide what to do now. Until we have confirmation or news to the contrary, we have to work on the assumption that His Majesty is dead. If not, he’s in a position where we have no choice but to act in what we believe to be his best interests.”