We have managed to regain the initiative in Bor’a, and even now are pushing the J’dar back to Miri and the Sand Wall. The Shaler already flee back to their lands in the north.
We have also gained the assistance of King Maargsson, of Leefs’elm. His troops are also heading for Miri, where we’ll meet once decisions have been made here.”
Jerito shook his head in appreciation, “You have been busy.”
Collett continued, “When we heard what was happening here, we sent some of our troops on to meet up with Maargsson and brought the rest here to see what we could do.
We also brought information provided by some of Maargsson’s people. They discovered an old dwarven city inside a mountain in their northern mountains.
This is not something of which I have any prior knowledge, but the Lady Edit reported that the site was already being worked on by J’dar and that they were attempting to dig out and remove some of the forges.”
Dorrin nodded toward Tamala, “We have something to add to that when you’ve finished.”
Collett looked curious but continued on. “We’ve also heard rumour of unrest amongst the J’dar. We know that not all of them wanted to be involved with Mythra in the first place, so we may have an opportunity there.”
There were several rumbles of agreement from about the table.
Kormick cleared his throat as the Commander stopped speaking, “Well, it would seem we’ve all been having a tough time of it.
I agree with Commander Collett that everything we’ve seen appears to be an attempt to delay the reactions of Bor’a and Galorn, and to leave M’ur open to uncontested attack.
The pattern appears almost identical, someone in the government being led to commit treason and confuse the ability of the military to respond, or even know who they could give orders to.
In Galorn it was Chancellor Baridon, and like Nagril, he also escaped when we managed to retake the capital. Unlike here, though, it appears that our Royal Family refused to help.
When we managed to gain access to the palace, they had all been executed. Man, woman or child, not one member of the family was spared.”
Stunned silence filled the room. Qar’a looked about to speak, then changed his mind. It was Tamala that broke the silence.
“Awful as that news is, I’m afraid that I have worse.” Eyes turned to her as she continued, “As some of you know, I have spent the last few months at the Temple of the Seers in the mountains to the north of Boraan.
Recently we have discovered that there are other ways to perform magic, other than the method we currently use that utilises either the mages life force of that of sacrifices. For those that don’t know, there are legends that mages in times past used what they called the source, which is where we get sorcerer from.
It would appear that I am able to use this power, and I was using the texts kept by the Temple to try and learn how to use it to our benefit.”
“I would usually ask how you could expect us to believe that,” Qar’a waved his hand dismissively, “but after the other things I’ve seen, how could I possibly question what you say.”
Tamala smiled, “Believe me, it came as quite a shock to myself as well.
Part of the legend is the Source Guides who help to maintain the balance between what we would call good and evil.
Two weeks ago, the Temple itself was attacked. The attack was conducted by Eshek,” Cal sucked his breath in sharply, “who is one of the Source Guides and is supposed to stay out of direct action in the world at large. He was aided by a daemon.”
This time the table dissolved into uproar. They were having to stretch the bounds of their belief as it was, and now they were being told that a creature of legend was also involved in whatever was happening.
Harlin was the first to regain his composure, “How can that be? We have records of daemons, and they are locked in their own world, unable to act within ours.”
“You know more than us then, My Lord.” Qar’a looked around the table, “I was of the belief that they were a fairy story used to scare children. We have no record in the Royal Library relating to them, of that I’m sure.”
“We have some record in Bor’a, but not much.” Dorrin shifted uneasily in his seat, “What Tamala hasn’t spoken of yet is what else I found in the library.
Firstly, it’s our belief that some of those taken from M’ur will be used to bring more daemon through to our world. The one that attacked the Temple inhabited and controlled the body of a Koldari warrior we know of, by the name of Cor’dell.”
Luda looked toward Cal, whose face was a picture of surprise, “Looks like you need to kill him again, Cal.”
“That’s not all,” Dorrin gave Luda a sharp look to stay silent, “I found works in the library that speak of the forges found in the mountains to the north of Leefs’elm.
Harlin, what do you know of Mage Smiths?”
“Mage Smiths? That’s a title I’ve not heard since my childhood, and then only as tales. They created the weapons of power.”
Dorrin already knew that fact, but knew also that the others didn’t, so he just nodded at the statement.
“Tamala and I belief that the Mythraan intend to use the forges to arm the daemons. We don’t know how many there will be, but we are hopeful that other issues will restrict them from bringing more than a few dozen through.”
“A few dozen, armed with Fireblades? We have one whom will be able to fight them as an equal, how do you fancy that Cal?”
Cal was grimacing, and Tamala grabbed his hand as that thought filtered through them all
“We need to stop them.” Kerin’s voice was higher pitched than usual as the enormity of what they were facing settled in.
“How?” Collett looked toward Jerito, “It’ll be what, four to six weeks before your men are ready to launch an assault?”
“At least, and it will take at least that long just to get enough of your men to Galorn to even begin to make a difference to our numbers.
We’ve still got the J’dar in the way, who we would have to fight our way through. I don’t see how we can get any where near Mythra in time to be able to stop them.”
Miri
Maargsson watched across the plain before the town of Miri as a small party approached on foot. The town backed on to the ‘Sand Wall’, an immense wall that stretched nearly a hundred miles west and another twenty east separating the desert, and the people of it, from the Southern Kingdoms. The heat haze from the edge of the desert could actually be seen rising into the air behind the wall.
About the town itself he could see the J’dar army camped, and along the wall he could see their banners, proclaiming that they controlled it.
The King got down from his horse and started to make his way to meet whoever approached. Edir also alighted her mount and started to walk with him.
“What are you doing?”
“Says the monarch who was about to walk toward the enemy unescorted.”
Maargsson grunted but said nothing further.
As they strode out to meet the J’dar, Maargsson noted that all but two of the group had stopped, hopefully to meet his own pair on friendly terms.
Faruk watched the big Helmer and the woman walking toward him. They looked confident, which he couldn’t really dispute, but they also looked as if they didn’t want to fight if they didn’t have to.
In the last couple of weeks he had been almost constantly apologising to his horse, as he forced the poor animal to take him to several camps where he needed to speak to the chiefs.
Finally, he had spoken to those he needed to, and got the agreements he required. Now he had to hope that he could convince the scary looking man approaching of what he had gained.
He stopped a few paces from the Helmers, waiting for them to speak first.
Maargsson obliged him, “Greetings to you, have you come to surrender?”
Faruk grinned, “Straight to the point, I’ll give you that.”
“You know
that we’ve only part of our force here, the rest is following,” Edir waved at the town as she continued, “Dwarven engineers will make short work of those defences and then it’s a long way to run over the desert.”
“It is isn’t it.
I don’t like running, how about we try something else?”
“And that would be?” Maargsson was content to let Edir carry the conversation on whilst he studied their foe.
“I have a better idea, I’m just apologetic that I cannot speak for all of my people.
How about we open the gates and help you through?”
That was not what either of the Helmers had expected to hear.
“Several months ago, a young warrior from Boraan showed me that you people of the plains can be almost as honourable as those of us of the desert.”
Edir pieced it together quicker than Maargsson, “Cal?”
“So his friends called him. Calmagyr Ironsson, a young man of exceptional courage and a very big sword.”
Edir started laughing. Neither she nor her King had actually met Cal, but they had heard the story of how he fought Cor’dell using a legendary Fireblade.
“You must be Faruk?” He bowed briefly in acknowledgement as Edir continued, “This is His Majesty, King Maargsson, and I’m Edir. We know the story, and in it you were spoken of with great honour.”
“I am pleased that it is so. Is Calmagyr with you?”
“No, he was entrusted with the task of protecting Queen Myriana.”
“As it should be for a great warrior.
Whilst I would enjoy talking all day, my men complain that I am very good at that when they think I can’t hear, we really should sort the misunderstanding we currently appear to have.”
“Go on.”
“As I told Cal, not all of the J’dar wanted to support the Mythraan with whatever they have planned.
During the last few weeks I have been speaking to those of my people who would listen about just this point. I’m sorry to say that I can’t speak for all of my people, but I can tell you that the tribes of the western desert no longer feel we should listen to our elders from the east, for they have obviously been misled in their beliefs.
We wish it to be know that your people will not be attacked by any of those tribes. We wish to talk of an alliance with your leaders.”
Edir had signalled for one of the men and quickly given instructions. Maargsson and Faruk continued to talk as she arranged for a message to immediately be sent out for Ketla describing what was happening at Miri, whilst the King and the J’dar started to work out getting the Helmer army settled.
They finally had pigeons for Ketla, but with the time it would take for any message and reply to complete their journeys, it was obvious that they would be here a while.
Imperial declaration
They had reached Ketla a week ago. Since that first meeting Collett and Jerito had sealed themselves in one of the available rooms, with a stream of military officers and messengers passing back and forth, and apart from heading to their rooms to sleep, had hardly been seen at all. In fact. Luda had mused that if they just gave them a room with two beds in it, they would possibly never see them again.
Cal had laughed at the time but was fully aware that the two of them were trying to come up with a plan for taking the fight north.
Tamala and Dorrin were busy exploring the library in the palace and at the buildings used by Ketla’s small, magical community. This left Cal at a bit of a loose end to start with, but his sense of rightness soon saw him drifting outside the city to help with the refugees.
A sizable, but temporary, town had now grown beneath the walls, and the dwarves were at the heart of the building project. He had heard before about how gifted they were as engineers, as evidenced by the mines they dug, but he had never really appreciated that those skills could be applied to so many things.
It had been decided that until the current threat was over, it made more sense to keep the people close to the relative safety of Ketla’s wall. What Cal really wasn’t sure about, was what they could possibly do to end the threat.
“My Lord,” Cal’s thoughts were interrupted by the voice from behind him. Turning, he saw one of the palace guards stood waiting for him to acknowledge him.
“Yes?” Something else he was still getting used to was Myriana’s insistence of his use of the title she bestowed upon him. Court Baron was a long way from being one of the more senior nobles that were now starting to congregate in the city, but it was still something he was uncomfortable with.
“Your presence is requested back at the Palace.”
Cal nodded, “I’ll make my way straight there. Who requested my presence?” The question was almost an afterthought.
“Commander Collett, Sir.”
That gained his full attention, the guard being surprised at Cal’s pace as he suddenly started back toward the city.
The soldiers at the palace entrance directed him back the main hall, where the council had been meeting whenever they felt necessary. There were several more seats about the table now as some more of M’ur’s nobility had made their way to the capital. Cal noted that questions as to where they had been during the attack and aftermath were diplomatically avoided.
A good number of people had already arrived before him, and he took a moment to glance over the crowd, looking for familiar faces.
It seemed strange that there were now more M’ur attending these meetings than the Dwarves, Galorn or Boraan, but they were the military power, so it proved a fairly even distribution of weight on the council.
He spotted Qar’a just moving from one group he had been speaking to, so he waved and headed over.
“Cal, I’ve not seen you for a few days.”
“I’ve been helping outside.”
“So Kerin told me. Thank you for that.”
“What’s going on?” He noted that Jerito and Collett were not there yet. Actually, he saw now as he concentrated on the fact, there were no military here.
“We need to settle some things. Whilst we all agree with Collett and Jerito running our armies’ campaign, there’s still a lot of other things which need clarifying and don’t come under their purview.” He grinned at the blonde youth, “And before you ask, you’re not here as Knight Lieutenant, you’re here as Baron Calmagyr.”
“Then I’m guessing I’ll be sat with Her Majesty?”
“You, Luda and Dorrin will comprise the Boraan delegation. Lady Tamala has begged off, citing that she’s making headway in the library, but I think it’s more to avoid intimidating the others.”
“Being told that possibly the most powerful mage we have is sat opposite you would have the effect of quieting some of the more boisterous amongst us.”
Qar’a slapped Cal’s back as he laughed at the comment. “Just a little. It doesn’t matter how often we explain that she’s firmly on our side, some still can’t seem to accept it.”
“Not surprising allowing for what’s happened here recently.”
“True.” They both noted Myriana entering the hall.
“I guess I’d better go.” Cal rapidly made his way to Her Majesty’s side.
She smiled as he joined her and lead them both to join Luda, who was already at the table.
The seats quickly filled with the Lords, Ladies and single Queen. Qar’a sat at the head of the table, with Myriana to his immediate left, followed by Luda and Cal. Cal found himself sat next to Kormick, who winked as they settled. Beside Kormick was Periman, and beyond him a Lord that Cal had seen on the ship from Mid’gra, but hadn’t spoken to, though he knew him to be a close associate of Duke Vilstrom.
Opposite them sat representatives from M’ur and the Dwarves, represented by Harlin and his elder son. The only other M’ur noble he knew was Lady Kerin, who sat to Qar’a’s right, with another three Lords sat down the table from her.
Qar’a waited for the buzz of conversation about the table die down, and then tapped the wood when it didn’t
die out completely.
“Majesty, Lords and Ladies. We have things we need to discuss, and we need to make decisions about those things now.” He had their attention, so he continued, “We have major disruption throughout the Southern Kingdoms, in the case of my own country it could rightly be described as horrendous or horrific.” Kormick coughed politely, and Qar’a nodded in agreement.
“Yes, My Lord Duke. Your royal family was murdered in cold blood and some of your nobles and officers have gone missing, but you will forgive me if I point out that we have lost thousands.”
Kormick nodded and Cal noted that the other Galorn Lord didn’t look overly happy.
Myriana kept her own council, content to just observe for the moment.
“We have to arrange some way for our three nations to co-operate over the coming months, possibly years, and we need to arrange that now.
Lord Harlin, your people are not traditionally acknowledged as being one of the Southern Kingdoms, but I’ve asked you to this meeting as I’m pretty sure that whatever we do agree, we will need your people to accept it and assist us.
Therefore, I think all would agree that you have just as much right to speak at this table as any other?” He looked at the faces arrayed in front of him. Some didn’t look happy at the idea, but none spoke against it.
“Very well. Does anyone have any suggestions to start?”
Kormick cleared his throat in what looked suspiciously to Cal like a predetermined signal.
“My Lord Duke?”
“I would say that the first thing we need to rectify is the power vacuum that exists in both my Kingdom, and your own.”
There were several murmurs of agreement from both sides of the table.
“But I have to say, I think this will cause as much of an issue as some of the other challenges we are faced with.”
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