An Empire Forged

by Michael Greenfield

  I’m guessing he thought he could stop anyone getting through to me, and so didn’t think through what would happen when a corporal bumps into a general.”

  “That would be a bit of a mismatch.” All four of them started to laugh, only for the frivolity to be interrupted by a female hurricane tearing through the door.

  “Cal!” Myriana ran straight across the room and threw her arms around him, prompting the youngster to start blushing furiously. “Gods, I’m so glad to see you are alright.”

  She stepped back, brushing her dress straight before continuing in a more restrained voice. “Sorry, but I’ve been worrying about you going off on your own.” She paused and arched her eyebrow, “More to the point, I’ve been worrying what Tamala would do to me if anything happened.”

  The group started to laugh again, including Cal. “Thank you, Majesty.”

  “Enough of this,” Kormick broke the mood, “I think the General and Baron may want to freshen up before we eat, and then I’m guessing we’ll be talking well into the night.”

  With that, he motioned Periman who signalled for a servant to show the General to his room, whilst Cal headed upstairs to the same room he’d used before the trip to Ren.

  Dinner passed quickly, before they retired to the small library and settled down with some wine.

  Kormick started, “I’m guessing you know broadly why we sent for you?”

  “Certainly,” Jerito smiled as he replied, “you need my army.”

  “Well, we need His Majesty’s army, but as we don’t know where His Majesty is or whether he’s even still alive, I guess we need your army.”

  “Getting into Mid’gra is going to prove the hardest part. A lot will depend on whether the gates are manned by regular army, or city guard.”

  Myriana spoke up, “Why would that make a difference?”

  “Regular army has set procedures for everything. If someone claims to be a General, then the soldier or NCO he faces will see that this is a problem that needs to be dropped on his officer.

  Junior officers will obviously decide that a more senior officer needs to make the decision, and by the time we get to a Major or above, we’ll be dealing with someone that should recognise me by sight.

  That would be the easy way, but if Baridon’s put the city guard on the gates, then there’s a good chance we’ll end up in a cell until someone investigates and that Baridon could learn off our presence before we’re ready to act.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that we need to have a good look at who’s guarding the gates before we start to decide anything else?” Kormick’s question hung in the sir for a moment.

  “Pretty much.

  Then we need to ascertain who we can trust amongst the army in the city. It’s pretty obvious that Baridon wouldn’t have been able to get away with this if there weren’t someone in the chain of command assisting.”

  “So, you’re saying that we have to hope it’s the army guarding the gate, and even then, we won’t be sure whether we can trust them or nor?”

  “No. That’s were Baridon’s plan starts to fall down.

  Whoever is on his payroll in the High Command will be a senior officer. It would have to be in order to be in a position to give orders that would be followed by the majority.

  If we find ourselves dealing with a Major or Colonel, the chances are that they would be deemed too lowly to attract the Chancellor’s interest.”

  “Well,” Periman straightened himself in his seat, “I better send one of my men to see what the good Chancellor has prepared for us.”

  Cal spoke up, “Would it be worth bringing Gunnarson up here to support us?”

  Jerito raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Well,” the younger man continued, “even if there are troops loyal to His Majesty when we get to the gates, inside the city we could find a situation where friends are arrayed against each other.

  I think even I’d baulk at the idea of drawing on Dorrin or Farsighter.”

  Kormick nodded in appreciation, “You’ve a good man there Myri. He raises a very good point.

  Many of the men we may have to fight will not be knowingly supporting our enemy, and those that might help us will know it.

  Gunnarson’s men won’t flinch at any order we give, and if we’re really lucky, that will tip the balancer in trying to avoid an outright pitched battle in the middle of Mid’gra.”

  The Queen acknowledged the compliment aimed at Cal, before speaking herself.

  “Once we manage the small trick of getting past the gate, how do we get into the palace? If the guards there believe that His Majesty’s in residence, they’ll fight anyone who tries to gain entrance without permission.”

  “Franc,” Jerito looked to the lighter, “do you know anyone in the palace garrison we might be able to contact?

  Astridson thought about it for a few moments, before finally responding, “There’s a few I can think of, but I’ve been away for several months and have no idea whether they’d still be here, or whether they’ve been sent out on patrol.”

  Kormick grimaced as he listened to the answer to Jerito’s question, “Gods, this would almost be easier if we did have an army and just stormed the walls.”

  “Easier, my dear Duke,” Jerito cast his eyes heavenward, “but oh so much more messy. I don’t like messy.”

  Periman let his gaze rove round the group, “So, let me get this straight.

  Firstly, we need to find out who’s actually guarding the gates.

  If it’s the army, we should be able to gain access.” He grinned at them before continuing, “Then, we have to get a message to one of the Major’s friends, hoping that they’re actually here in the first place.

  Then, if we’re really lucky, we have to gain entrance to the palace, arrest Baridon, and rescue His Majesty if he’s still alive.”

  “Almost. I’d send the message to the palace first. It would be nice to know before we go inside the walls what aid will be forthcoming.”

  Each nodded at the statement, then Astridson spoke again. “If that’s the case, I need to figure out who to contact and we need to decide what to say.”

  Murmured agreement greeted him as each began to start thinking about what to put in the message. The only exception was Periman, who summoned two of his servants, the first to pass a message to Gunnarson to leave their accommodation in Manin and make his way to the west gate, instructing him to set up camp a couple of miles out so as not to alert anyone on the wall. The second was to await whatever message they came up with and then proceed into Mid’gra to deliver it, thus also discovering who was guarding the gate.

  “He should be alright with an army missive. The chances of him being stopped are minimal, even as things stand at the moment.

  That gives us two days by my reckoning to decide exactly what we’re doing.”

  Cal signalled his understanding, even as the others did the same, before raising a question, “What of the outer garrisons? We’ve sent messages to them and they’re probably on their way now.”

  “I don’t think we can wait that long.” Jerito looked at each of them as he spoke, “We have to act immediately, or I believe we’ll lose the chance.”

  Ketla

  The column of dwarves was now within sight of the M’ur capital of Ketla. Its proud walls stood as testament to the intention of their original designers plans that no-one would ever conquer the city.

  The further south they had marched, the more survivors of the Mythraan and J’dar attack they found. For the last day they had seen no sign of actual attack, only hasty evacuation, which led Harlin to believe that the attack hadn’t actually progressed this far.

  Not that it mattered. The people had obviously panicked and made straight for the supposed safety of those walls. Now they could see the ragtag camp that had sprung up around Ketla, at the base of the battlements rather than within.

  Garron rode beside his father and could only shake his head in disgust.

&nbs
p; “How can any man just leave these people outside, let alone a king. They could have been massacred just as badly as those to the north?”

  Harlin had been asking himself the same question.

  “Aye, that’s one question I want to ask His Majesty.” He paused to look about the walls, taking in the numbers of people desperately huddling as close as possible for safety.

  “Garron, fetch Captain Qar’a.” He signalled another of the dwarves, “We set camp here.”

  His son rode away in silence, barely able to accept what he was seeing, whilst the other dwarf started passing the word that they were to stop where they were.

  In the few minutes it took Qar’a to appear, Harlin noticed that some of the refugees had taken note of the Dwarf army, and some of the braver ones were starting to approach.

  As Qar’a rode up to him the dwarf waved his hand toward the bedraggled mass before them. “See if you can find someone in charge. We need to organise food, blankets, medicines, whatever they need that we can spare.

  Co-ordinate with Arlor, he’s acting as our quartermaster. Try and avoid a mad crush if you can.”

  Qar’a could only nod. Harlin could see that the Captain was having a hard time struggling to hold back tears at the sight before them

  The Captain rode out from the force of dwarves and approached some of the bolder refugees who had started to approach them.

  “Hold!” He bought his horse up short of them, but within easy talking distance, “Is anyone in charge here?”

  An elderly woman stared at him before replying, “Lady Kerin does what she can, I suppose she’s in charge.”

  Qar’a knew of Kerin. She was married to a court Baron who had made himself a profitable business in shipping and transport. He also knew that the Lady and her husband lived on the coast, not inland where all of these people had come from.

  “Would you please send someone to find the good Lady.

  The rest of you hold here, we have plenty of supplies that can be shared with you, but we need to make sure that everyone gets the help they need.

  No-one will be left, but you must be patient.”

  He watched as several of the people he spoke to started to murmur, obviously not happy at having to wait.

  “If you don’t have the patience to wait, consider how patient a dwarven warrior will be with you if you try and take without permission.”

  Some of the looks were still unfriendly, but the muttering seemed to quieten down.

  It took just short of a quarter hour for the elderly woman to return with another, younger, woman. This one was dressed in much finer clothing, well cut travelling attire, though it had seen better days

  “Lady Kerin?”

  “Yes.” She looked exhausted, thought the Captain.

  “Captain Jared Qar’a. You look as if you could use some assistance?”

  “Qar’a, I’ve heard your name Captain. Are those your friends behind you?”

  Qar’a glanced back over his shoulder to where the dwarves were busy creating a camp.

  “Yes, they are.” He swung his leg over and dismounted, to put him at the same level as the Lady, trying to take some of the tension out of the situation.

  “I’m told that you’re in charge here.”

  Kerin snorted in disgust, “Well that bastard behind the walls doesn’t want to do anything.

  These people have nothing except what they carry or wear. They ran for the safety of the castle and were turned away.”

  “I know,” Qar’a’s voice softened, “I was one of the first to reach here after the attack began. I ended up wandering north again, just trying to stay hidden.

  If Lord Harlin’s people hadn’t found me, I would probably be dead by now, or worse.”

  Kerin’s stance softened as well, “I didn’t know.”

  Qar’a smiled, “No offence taken, you couldn’t have known I’d been here before.

  Speaking of such things, how is it that you’re here?”

  “My husband was in Ketla on business. When the King sealed the city and turned out the garrison he was at the Keep. He’s still at the Keep, he’s as cold a bastard as the King.

  One of the servants knew someone who had a way out. When it became obvious what was happening out here, and that there didn’t appear to be anyone following these poor people, I made my way out and have been doing whatever I can ever since.”

  “What I don’t understand is why they sealed the city so quickly, I was one of the first to get here, and the gates were shut already.”

  “That I might be able to answer. His Majesty was deep in conversation with some official from Boraan before he gave the order. I think he was the one that made the ‘suggestion’.”

  “Boraan?” Qar’a had had much of the recent events relayed to him by Harlin during his recovery and the trip down here, so he knew that Boraan had problems itself, and that there had been an infiltration at some level amongst there senior advisors and nobles, but didn’t know the exact extant of it.

  “Harlin needs to hear this.

  Gather some that you trust and start spreading the news about your people that the dwarves are here to help. I’d imagine their cooks are already breaking out supplies and food will be available soon.

  Then come over to the camp and you can tell Lord Harlin all that you know.”

  Without pausing long enough to respond, she span around and headed straight back toward the city walls, already calling out names of people she wanted to see.

  Harlin heard the calls as he strode about the camp in the making, ensuring that all was progressing as it should. Briskly making his way back to the edge nearest the city, he saw Qar’a leading his horse by the reins as he returned to the dwarves. By his side walked a woman who appeared to be in animated discussion with the Captain.

  Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, but it was obvious even at this distance that she hadn’t really taken care of it recently. He also noted the quality of her clothing and guessed that the M’ur captain was bringing him whoever counted as an authority this side of the walls.

  As he waited for them to reach the camp, he once more allowed his eyes to stray along the walls. He could almost feel the eyes atop of it staring, watching everything that they did. How much longer before someone from within came out to talk?

  Qar’a handed the reins to his horse over to one of the dwarves who had come across to them, before directing his attention back to the Dwarf Lord.

  “Lord Harlin, this is the Lady Kerin. She’s been doing what she can to help the people out there, but unfortunately she has not been able to do as much as she would have liked.”

  Harlin saw that Kerin didn’t shy away when he turned his gaze upon her, no matter the situation she still had confidence in herself.

  “My Lady, what do you need?”

  She didn’t hesitate in her response, “Food, shelter, clean water.

  We’ve managed to scrape some shelters together and there’s water only a short distance from here, but without food people have been getting too weak to make the journey to fetch it.”

  “Those we can help with.”

  “Captain Qar’a has said as much. I’ve sent for some of my people who will be able to help get things co-ordinated. They should be here shortly.”

  “Good. Have you had any contact with those inside the walls?”

  Kerin spat on the floor, “You would mean good King Feriton? He was hiding in the keep when I left the city, and as far as I’m aware he hasn’t come out yet.”

  “You left the city?”

  “I couldn’t leave these people out here with no hope. At first I thought to try and organise them into something resembling a civilised community, but after a few days I started just praying that I could help as many of them survive as possible.”

  “Lady Kerin, from what I can see you’ve managed an indescribable task in almost impossible circumstances. I don’t know how many you lost, but rest assured the number would have been greater if you h
adn’t tried to help.” The statement came from Qar’a. Even as he spoke he was still gazing back at the bedraggled mass below the wall. His face a mask, hiding whatever his true feeling in the moment might be.

  As night fell, Kerin had organised for the dwarves to carry foodstuffs across to the crowd, dwarven warriors ensuring that no-one tried taking more than their share, whilst Garron had managed to find some spare tents amongst their baggage train. There was nowhere near enough to shelter everyone, but it allowed the frail, elderly and young to gain some respite. He had also directed any dwarf with any skill in healing to pass round amongst them and help whoever they could. The darker side of their job was also to mark out those for who it was too late.

  It would seem cruel under most circumstances, but Harlin had to weigh up the fact that they had limited supplies and the possibility of a hostile force with the city itself. Much as he wanted to help everyone, his resources were such that tough decisions had to be made.

  Torches could be seen along the crest of the wall, several grouped in one spot. Harlin was sat with Qar’a, Lady Kerin and his two sons.

  “They’ve got to be getting ready to send someone out, if they leave it much longer then they know we’ll have the people firmly with us.

  I wonder what they’ll claim as the reason for leaving them all in the face of such danger.”

  Harlin grunted at Qar’a’s statement. “It’s too late already. You’re one of those that was left to fend for yourself, what excuse would you accept?”

  The Captain watched the flames of the fire they were sat around, no answer was forthcoming.

  Several minutes later, one of the guards approached the group.

  “There’s movement at the gate. Looks like a party approaching from the city.”

  Harlin stood, picking up his sword as he did, and motioned for the others to follow. It took ten minutes to reach the group from Ketla, as they didn’t move far from the walls.

  Most of the group were soldiers, obviously there for protection, but at the front stood three men, all wearing fine clothes and looking fresh and well fed. A fact that did little to endear them to the approaching dwarves and their companions.