An Empire Forged

by Michael Greenfield

  Faruk’s decision not to pursue the Boraan queen and her rescuers had not sat well with the elders. Many of them were deeply under the Mythraan’s thrall and still fully believed the promises they had been made. Faruk knew different. And that explained why he and his men now stood guard on a caravan route instead of taking part in the attacks against their southern neighbours.

  Although he wasn’t with the warriors that had gone west to support the Shalers in their invasions of Boraan and M’ur, he still had many friends that continued to pass information to him.

  Since they had started this foolhardy attack he had seen little from their supposed allies, the Mythraan. He knew they had joined in the initial attack into M’ur, though he didn’t know why they had launched that assault. Everyone knew that M’ur’s military might was more concentrated at sea. He lived in a desert and even he knew this fact.

  His musing was interrupted by the sound of someone approaching from behind him. Glancing back he saw one of his more experienced warriors making his way to his solitary refuge.

  “News?”

  The man halted before his leader, bowing briefly in respect, “A messenger from Hamat Morla.”

  Faruk stood swiftly and returned his attention to the camp, “Then I guess we need to hear what the man has to say.”

  His lengthy stride quickly ate up the distance back to the collection of tents that had been their home for the last few weeks. Even as he entered the small camp he could see the messenger, stood by his horse, waiting patiently.

  “Greetings, please.” Faruk indicated that the man should enter his tent, though during the days the sides were rolled up to allow a breeze to pass over any occupants, so it didn’t really look like something a southerner would think of as a tent.

  The man nodded his own greeting and entered to sit at the indicated place. Faruk motioned for one of his own men to fetch refreshments for them both, maintaining his people’s traditions, even though he burned to know what was happening elsewhere.

  They spoke of small things whilst they waited for bread and water to be brought to them. When it finally arrived and tradition was satisfied, Faruk spoke more urgently.

  “What news from the west?”

  “My Lord sends word that the Mythraan are not keeping to their promises.”

  Faruk spat to one side, “That brings me no surprise at all. What of the campaign?”

  “It is failing. The disorganisation they promised amongst the armies of Boraan is no longer apparent. They have retaken Holdur and are advancing on Miri.

  As you already know, the dwarves aid their cause, and we have word that a Helmer force has been seen progressing south to join with Boraan. If we do not act soon, we will be like a piece of steel between the anvil and the smiths hammer.”

  “How do our own forces fare?” The tribal leader looked heavily troubled by what he was hearing.

  “They are the ones that now act with no organisation. Those damned Rangers that the Boraan make a big deal about, they really are nearly as good as they claim.

  Our supply camps are being targeted all throughout the land we have taken. We have tried to group them together for added protection, but it seems to make little difference.

  Morla feels that he has no choice but to retreat back to Miri and hope that their numbers may forestall any action by the Boraan and Helmer force.”

  “I told them that this was foolish, that we would pay a price for joining the Mythraan.” He paused as he thought on what he was being told. Eventually he continued, “I want you to head back immediately.

  Inform Morla that I will meet him at Miri. I need to speak to some others first, so I’ll probably be a few days behind you.

  His move to pull our men back to Miri is the sensible thing to do. We have to find a way to save as many of them as we possibly can.” Standing, he continued, “Take what refreshment you need and then make all haste.”

  The messenger rose also, acknowledging the offer of proper food and drink before he was required to again make his way across the desert and down to where Morla had already begun the J’dar withdrawal.

  Faruk was left to contemplate what he had been informed of, and compose his thoughts when he spoke to the men he needed to convince of the actions that he now saw were required, if he was to avoid his people suffering heavy casualties at the hands of a Boraan army that would no doubt be after revenge.

  Beginnings of Empire

  The news, for once, was good. Well, better than they had been used to receiving. Periman’s had sent his people out to discover the exact situation in the city, and as such had discovered that it was indeed the army that had been tasked with securing the entrances to Mid’gra.

  The city was begin tightly held, but it was not completely sealed. Travel in and out was possible, but stringent checks were being carried out by the troops manning the gates.

  If Kormick had tried to gain access on his own, he would almost certainly have been detained, though the soldiers detaining him would probably have had no clue as to the real reason for it.

  One piece of news that hadn’t been received very well was that of one of Periman’s captains. His ship had just come up the coast from Joorat, stopping over at Leema, M’ur’s principle port situated to the south of Ketla. He reported word that Ketla itself was completely sealed, no-one in or out.

  Kormick and Jerito had discussed this at length, and both agreed that it stank of exactly the same duplicity that they saw here in Galorn. Myriana desperately wanted to do something to help M’ur but was acutely conscious of the fact that they were unable to do anything until they had resolved the situation here.

  Kormick had made the suggestion that their best chance was to wait until the outer garrisons had made their way to the capital, but Jerito felt that it would take too looking and ran the risk of looking too much like a mutiny. They needed to act with the troops that were already here.

  They had moved from the relative security of Periman’s house in the town to a small camp set back in some woods, just off the main route into Mid’gra, that afforded them a good view of the walls and gates. The palace stood resplendent upon its elevated location and it seemed hard to believe that all was not well.

  They could see down into the docks and all looked normal there as well. In fact, the captain that had brought the news about Ketla had sailed into Mid’gra, and after establishing his identity to the port authority’s satisfaction, had been issued with a pass that allowed him to leave the city. At first this had been viewed with suspicion, but no unwanted guests had come knocking on the door, and now they had the support of Gunnarson’s men as well.

  Jerito stood now on a small hillock that afforded the best view of the western gate, using a small telescope to watch what was happening. Periman had explained how the telescope worked to Cal the previous evening, and he had marvelled at the skill and craftmanship that must have gone into preparing the lenses, as well as forming the leather body that encompassed them.

  Something caught the General’s attention as he watched. Abruptly he was moving down the western side of the hillock to where his horse had been left. Astridson, who had been stood with him, raced to keep up.

  “What did you see?”

  “Not what, who?” He leapt onto his horse and immediately started toward where they were camped. It was only minutes to the camp, the only reason they took their horses to the mound was in case they needed to flee from some sortie out of the city. Otherwise it would have been a pleasant fifteen-minute walk.

  The camp roused quickly as he approached. By the time he was dismounting Cal and the others were stood waiting.

  “Myerscough is doing his rounds of the gates.” They had noticed a few days earlier that the Chancellor’s assistant did these rounds every few days. “If we grab him, he’s the kind of spineless weasel that will probably spill everything.

  If he does that in front of the men at the gate, then we’re in. Word will spread quickly, and it should then be Baridon who mu
st flee.”

  “Then we need to move quickly.” Gunnarson stated the obvious before continuing, “We have three covered wagons that can get the men close without giving cause for alarm, but which gate? We need to be at one the Myerscough’s inspecting.”

  “He’s only just arrived at the western gate, so if we ride separate from the wagons, they should make good time round to the Evening Gate.” Cal knew that the Evening Gate was the name given by city dwellers to a gate to the northwest of the city centre, as it was the one most of the farmers left through after selling any produce they had brought.

  “The road dips about half a mile out of the city and we should be able to board the wagons there without being seen.”

  “Why not board the wagons here instead of riding separately?” Myriana was looking bemused as she asked the question.

  “Empty wagons travel faster Your Majesty.”

  “Oh.” She looked at Cal, “Don’t say a word.”

  Cal smiled, but remained silent. Being a country boy, it had been obvious to him why they wouldn’t board the wagons until they had to.

  “I’m still not happy with you coming with us Myriana, but I suppose if Commander Collett couldn’t keep you in Boraan, then I’ve not much chance of talking you out of this have I?” Jerito fixed the young Queen with what he’d always considered a pretty hard scare. It didn’t faze Her Majesty at all.

  Gunnarson left them to get his own men organised whilst Periman speedily got the three wagons hitched up and rolling toward the Evening Gate. Without further comment the rest mounted their horses, or Makkisen in the case of Cal, Myriana and Astridson, and also started north.

  As they neared the small dip in the landscape that they had decided to use for cover whilst they prepared to move on the gate, Jerito took the occasional opportunity to ride just within site of the wall to see if he could tell whether Myerscough had reach the place they wanted yet.

  They had actually reached their rendezvous with the wagons when he finally saw what he wanted.

  “Let’s move. Gunnarson, hold until we’ve grabbed Myerscough and the try and be as intimidating as possible.

  We want the men on the gate to hesitate, that’s the only way we’ll get a chance to pull this off without bloodshed.”

  “Understood. The men have been told to stay by the wagons until you indicate differently.”

  “Good.

  Cal, you might want to stay back as well to give your bow some room.”

  Cal’s face was set in a look of grim determination as he answered, “I’ll be on the second wagon, covering the guards in the hope you can get them to talk, and fast.”

  Jerito nodded his appreciation.

  The wagons began their steady roll toward the gate. Myriana was in the back of the third wagon, whilst Astridson and Jerito were in the first. Periman had remained at their camp, along with several of his servants, clearing things up and making ready to join the others if they were successful. He was also tasked with getting the word out if they weren’t.

  Kormick sat behind Cal, using the canvas covering to hide his features in case the guards recognised him. It was certain that they would have orders to arrest him on sight, so they were taking no chances.

  Cal felt himself tense up as they approached the guard’s position. He could see the man he assumed was Myerscough talking with one of the officers. He assumed it was him because, although they had met briefly last time he had been in Mid’gra, it was just that, a brief introduction and then he hadn’t seen the man again and he couldn’t rightly remember what he looked like.

  Jerito wore a short, hooded cloak, barely more than a cowl, but all he needed it to do was conceal his identity for a few, short moments. In this role it succeeded. The first guard to approach the wagon was concentrating on the man driving the sturdy horses that pulled them forward. The driver was one of Gunnarson’s men and his orders were to distract the guards so that the others could act.

  This he did by the simple expedient of standing to wave to the guard and slipping. He knew how to role with a fall, so he risked little injury to himself, but it had the desired effect as everyone’s eyes followed him as he fell.

  Jerito barely had to move five paces, initially looking as if he was going to the driver’s aid, before he wrapped an arm about Myerscough’s neck, a hunting knife appearing in his hand and before the Galorn’s throat.

  The soldiers reacted with credible speed, but they were at the disadvantage of facing a foe that knew what to expect. It made them just enough of a fraction slower, before they could fully ready themselves Gunnarson’s men jumped down from the backs of the wagons, weapons already drawn.

  Cal stood high, his bow drawn, and an arrow aimed straight at the officer in charge.

  “Hold!” Jerito’s voice rang out.

  The officer’s face registered shock as he realised who it was that had attacked them. His men may not necessarily have recognised the General, but they instinctively recognised the voice of command. Even men on the wall looked down and just watched, no action being taken, though swords were unsheathed and several started cranking their crossbows.

  Cal noted this and muttered a quick prayer under his breath that they could resolve this before someone did something stupid.

  “General, what’s the meaning of this?”

  “The meaning of this is that we’re here to bring Chancellor Baridon to account for treason. I assume that you have orders to arrest Duke Kormick?”

  “We received such orders a few weeks ago, though I’ve heard that they didn’t find him at his country estate. It’s caused quite a stir amongst the officers.”

  “Well you can stop looking for him,” he gestured to the wagon that Kormick had been sat in, seeing the Duke get down from it out of the corner of his eye, “Your orders to arrest to Duke are rescinded. Who gave it?”

  “Squire Longton, head of the City Guard. He told us it came from the King.”

  “That could cause an issue. How stands the army?”

  “I don’t know about all of the army, Sir, but I can tell you that this part of it is extremely glad to see your return. Sending you to Dorn was a load of bollocks…. Sir.”

  Jerito burst out laughing, about him others began to laugh as well as the officer started to blush furiously at his outburst.

  On the wall the men stood ready heard the laughter and began to relax. It was not the sound that normally proceeded a fight.

  They were quickly taken to a small house just inside the gates. It didn’t have many rooms and was generally used by guards to rest between watches when they were assigned to this position. It now gave them somewhere out of sight to talk further and gauge what was happening inside the city and how to proceed.

  The officer had been properly introduced to the all as Captain Welland and now sat with his ultimate commander, explaining what he knew, and what he’d heard. Jerito was impressed at the fact that the man differentiated between the two things and because of that was able to give a clear and concise report of what they faced.

  It appeared that even with Jerito supposedly being out of the way in Dorn, Baridon still hadn’t trusted the army. The Palace was now guarded by the City Guard, which led them to believe that Longton was in league with the Chancellor.

  There was still no news that told them whether or not the King was still alive. A fact that caused concern amongst the group, but again, it was something that they couldn’t address until they had gained access to the Palace.

  Myerscough had proved to be even easier to break than they had expected. They hadn’t even got as far as threatening violence before he started spilling all that he knew. Unfortunately, it was abundantly clear that Baridon hadn’t trusted his assistant either, as he didn’t seem to know much more than they already did themselves.

  Although his confirmation of the things they were telling Welland and his men did promise to make things easier for them. By the time they had finished, the Captain looked ready to take Myerscough outside and
execute him on the spot.

  As the house was used by the guards, it had a small cellar that had been converted into a pair of cells. Myerscough was roughly shoved into one of the cells, with two of Welland’s men being left to keep an eye on him.

  Orders were sent out by Jerito to bring as many senior officers as could be found quickly to meet at the guardhouse, though he didn’t want to remain there too long as, even as they waited, rumours would be spreading like wildfire through the city. It was a certainty that the soldiers on the wall who had seen them seize Myerscough below them would be passing the word around and once the rumours reached the palace itself, then they would have to be ready.

  Welland returned within the hour with a pair of Colonels who were both known to Jerito. He quickly brought them up to date and set them with organising the men, passing the word about the walls of the city and reaching the smaller garrisons set in three spots in the city closer to the walls themselves.

  There weren’t as many men in these garrisons as Jerito would like, as most of the troops were billeted in the barracks within the grounds of the palace, but there would be enough to do what he wanted.

  Night had fallen by the time they were organised, and small groups of men made their way to various locations judged to be important throughout Mid’gra.

  The plan was an extension of the one they had used to gain access to the capital itself. Using the as much of a force as they could muster in the short time available, they planned to place them near the palace entrance in the hope of drawing many of the defenders to that side.

  They knew that they wouldn’t be able to draw all of them, but the General just wanted enough there to make moving through the palace easier. Astridson was the one who was going to get them in, whilst Cal had convinced Myriana to wait in a house near the palace with himself whilst the attack was carried out.

  His argument had been simple. They needed Jerito to be able to convince those he met inside that Galorn was in danger from its own Chancellor, something that might prove difficult if the Boraan monarch and one of Her officers were to be found amongst the attacking force.