Prethos raised his chin and his voice was stern. “You would be surprised what I know, Ieran. I heard of the attempt by Thedris to take my son back to me, and I know that order has been restored by Gabrion and Brallok.”
“Y—You… How could you know that?”
“As I said to you before. I have my sources. I did not send a reply because I have been waiting for you to tell me the news that you received from the official messenger. But perhaps you have been too busy to notify me?”
Ieran hissed, “Yes, that blasted list of nonsense supplies; that’s why I forgot to inform you immediately.”
“That blasted list of supplies,” Prethos informed him, “was my way of keeping you busy and watching what moves you were making. Dariak has been ready to depart for days and had no need of those things.”
Ieran paled. “What!”
“I was warned about your loyalties, Ieran. I tested them. And you failed.”
“It was… a ruse?”
Verna gave a rough laugh. “And so was promoting your friend over there to captain of the guard.”
“What?” Mzark barked.
Prethos nodded. “I thought she was insane to suggest it, but it certainly was enough to nudge you further along your traitorous path, wasn’t it, Ieran? And you, Mzark, were never one of my best commanders: Why else would you be camped out on the front lines at an undeveloped stage of this war? You were among the most expendable and so you were sent out there on your own long ago. I keep my best men nearby until we are ready to fully proceed.”
Mzark took the words like a blow to the chest. He realized the truth of them and all of his bluster faded away.
Prethos stood up ramrod straight and adopted his most regal tone. “Chancellor Ieran and Captain Mzark of the Royal Guard, I hereby charge you with treason against the crown of Hathreneir. Have you any words in your defense?”
Mzark couldn’t find anything to say, but Ieran snarled. “Mark me, Prethos. Follow this path and you will bring ruin to us all. There is time still to correct your errors. I can help you. I have tremendous support for the old ways. Let us rebuild this kingdom into the grand force it was in your father’s day.”
Prethos waited but Ieran could see the words fell uselessly away and he stopped speaking.
“By decree of His Royal Majesty, King Prethos of Hathreneir,” the king announced officially, “Chancellor Ieran and Captain Mzark knowingly admit their involvement in a plot against the king and will therefore face immediate punishment for their crimes.” He reached his hand out and Barrith offered him a sword.
Dariak took a step forward. “Is this necessary?”
“We strive to build a peaceful society,” Prethos proclaimed, “but to ensure that, there are times where punishment must be administered for heinous crimes. These two cannot be contained in a prison cell. They will not reform. And so, I decree that they will be executed.”
“Others may rise up in their defense. You may be creating martyrs,” Dariak warned.
“I will deal with them as I must, if I must. Just as I will deal with these two now. I will not tolerate treason.” He stepped forward and pressed the sword through Ieran’s heart, followed by Mzark’s. As their bodies slumped to the ground, the rest of the fighters who had followed them squirmed uncomfortably, fearing they would be next.
Prethos had other ideas for them, however. “The rest of you will endure a period of servitude to the kingdom. When and if I decide you have earned your redemption, you will be released and free to go about your lives. I assure you, however, for rising up against me, that your future will not be easily won. If you attempt to free yourself before my decree, then you will be slain. If you find this unacceptable for your actions here tonight, speak now and I will administer your punishment more acutely.” He pointedly looked at the bodies of Ieran and Mzark. Cowed, the fighters remained silent.
“And so, Dariak,” Prethos turned at last, lowering his tone, “I may not be the most reputable or beloved king to grace this castle, but I will obey your edicts for the time allotted. If you are successful in convincing my counterpart in Kallisor within that time, then perhaps the future you envision will be possible.”
“Together, we will make it so.”
“Together, then.”
Chapter 34
The Outpost Revisited
Dariak and the others didn’t remain at Castle Hathreneir for very long. Once Kitalla was on her feet again, they borrowed the king’s best horses and headed east. The beasts of burden were expert sand runners and were able to maintain sprints for relatively long periods of time. Prethos had also given them a family secret before leaving, a special blend of herbs and grasses that, when burned, staved off most of the feral predators. The drawback was the terrible scent, and Kitalla almost preferred facing off against sandorpions and eaglons.
As they drew further from the castle, Dariak felt an improved connection to the energies. The dead zone was weakening, but it still had its effects closer to the castle. He flexed his skills and summoned a few random spells for practice’s sake. Likewise, Verna, Kitalla, Ruhk, and Carrus took shifts sparring with each other while Randler accompanied their bouts with some rapid music.
In three days, they left the desert behind them, reaching the border between the two kingdoms where the outpost stood upon the horizon. As they gazed upon their destination, Ruhk brought up his horse in consternation. “This is madness!”
In the three months since his last visit to the outpost, the white-washed walls had been splattered with a dark, dingy mud color. Green and gold flags hung from the battlements and no less than twenty warriors could be seen patrolling the narrow ledges across the top. A huge fence has also been erected around the place, superseding the original stone wall that had marked the boundary before. Ruhk surmised that the wild obstacle course that Gabrion and Urrith had created was dismantled to house the added forces that were milling about.
“It looks like we’ll have to take this place,” Kitalla commented, flexing her fingers in anticipation.
“Should we wait for the reinforcements from Prethos?” Randler asked.
“No,” Dariak decided. “They won’t be here for several days and if they arrive, I don’t want this to become a major war zone.”
“Perhaps we can knock on the door and ask nicely to have the place handed over to us?” Verna offered sarcastically.
“Good thinking,” Kitalla grinned. “How about you and I strip down to our unders and sidle up to the men in there and work our way through to the captain? It’s been a while since I’ve had such fun.”
Carrus gave her a glance, then realized she meant playing the part of some form of group subterfuge. “They wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”
Verna started untying her tunic. “Sounds good to me.” She saw the shocked expression on Ruhk’s face and burst into laughter.
“Someone’s coming, anyway,” Dariak said. From behind the fence, they could see a man atop a horse hoisting the banner of the kingdom of Kallisor.
“With all those guards, it’s a wonder they didn’t greet us out on the sand,” Ruhk growled.
“Hmm,” Carrus grumbled, placing his hand on his war hammer and looking around suspiciously.
An opening appeared in the fence as the captain rode through. “I am Gevvin of the one true kingdom of Kallisor. State your purpose for coming to this outpost of the Great King Kallion of Kallisor.” The captain was flanked by ten fighters, all in iron armor with shields and swords at the ready.
“The one true kingdom?” Verna whispered to Kitalla, who shrugged.
Dariak stepped forward. “I am Dariak, son of Delminor, and I have come to this outpost to put an end to the wars.”
The captain laughed. “Your name is known to us. Were you not held prisoner in Our King’s dungeon some time ago? Were you not slated for public execution? Were you not deemed a traitor to the land of Kallisor?”
“It is all true,” Dariak said lightly. “However, your king�
��s decision was mistaken. I merely want to end the wars and find a way for both kingdoms to work together as one united force.”
“Ah,” the man returned. “You are among the oddities who occupied this outpost before. I assure you that your ways are flawed and you will not retake this place.”
“It’s not our intention to fight,” Dariak said. “But if it is necessary, then we will defend ourselves.”
“Then defend!” Gevvin shouted. “Take them out! Attack!”
Immediately, the team was surrounded, for five pairs of fighters were hidden beneath the sand. They jumped up in ambush, pressing the six companions tightly together while the captain’s entourage raced ahead.
Kitalla wasted no time channeling her dance skill. She knew deep down that they could overcome this fight by hand, but the power of her skill had been overwhelmingly successful and she wondered how long it would last. Her initial reason for joining Dariak’s quest had been for augmented power, and now it seemed she had acquired it. There was no point in keeping her skill at bay when it could make this skirmish all the easier.
The rest of the team, however, launched into action. Randler fired off his bow at the enemy, seeking to distract the fighters and to cause minimal damage to their limbs while knocking them out of the fight. Many of the arrows thudded against the iron armor, but if he could aim it just right, he knew he could strike a few good hits anyway.
Dariak’s arms and body waved around as he called to the earth below their feet. He drew on his inherent connection to the energies and worked to loosen the soil underneath the hooves of the captain’s horse. Gevvin may have remained at a safe distance to guide the battle, but Dariak was hoping to unseat him anyway.
Carrus, Ruhk, and Verna became blurs of activity, their weapons flashing in the daylight. Splitting up, they surrounded the other three companions and parried the incoming fighters. Sparks flew as weapons crashed together and soon the air was filled with the sounds of battle.
Above the din of shouts and stabs, the captain’s horse let out a terrified cry. Dariak’s spell had pinned the beast and it strained to be free. Bucking wildly, the horse threw Gevvin to the ground, where he hit with a resounding clang of armor. Carrus kicked off two of his attackers and ran to capture the captain, hoping it would put a quick end to the bout.
Kitalla moved with increasing speed, sweat pouring down her face. Dariak could feel the energies exuding from her, but it appeared as if they were having no effect. Kitalla groaned in frustration, wondering why her skill was suddenly so useless. With a disappointed sigh, she dropped the attempt and caught her breath quickly, taking up her daggers and filling in the defenses where Carrus had left them to pursue the captain.
Kitalla charged ahead, screaming wildly, her arms rising up high and then cutting low. Her blades struck the chestplate of the fighter before her. The soldier brought his shield about to bash her away but Kitalla pivoted and brought the daggers around the other way and upward, cutting into the armpit and scoring a nasty blow. The man wailed in agony and Kitalla threw him to the dirt, leaping onward to her next foe.
Verna saw Kitalla in action and smirked inwardly. She always had such finesse to her attacks, but Verna did not. Instead, she barreled her way into her opponent, smacking the fighter with frantic sword strikes and keeping him on the defensive. Back and back he stepped, trying to bring his sword or shield into place so he could turn the attack around. But Verna did not relent. She pounded fiercely, delighted in the growing panic in the man’s eyes as she battered his armor, crushing it in places and making it harder for him to breathe.
Ruhk used grand swings of his sword to keep the enemy moving. Facing off against two fighters, he swept wide, twisting sharply and cutting back with great agility. The two fighters were unable to step through his attacks, for they were slowed by the weight of their armor and lacked the easy strides Ruhk was able to make. Ruhk himself used to wear the heavier trappings, but his short time with the companions had shown him the benefits of dressing more for speed.
Though he was bruised from his fall, Gevvin rose quickly and met Carrus’ attack. The left-handed captain stood up and deflected the first strike with a gauntlet, then turned and punched the warrior in response. Carrus dodged the blow and turned quickly, bringing his war hammer crashing into the captain’s side. The iron armor accepted the blow but Gevvin moaned in pain. The captain retaliated by bringing his sword in, which Carrus ducked underneath and grabbed. He shook fiercely, trying to get the captain to release the weapon.
Gevvin reacted by pouncing forward, knocking Carrus over and trapping him on the ground. The edge of the captain’s shield dug painfully into Carrus’ shoulder and he struggled to flip the man off himself. After several tries, he managed to free his left arm and reach for the captain’s helm, hoping to pry it off and then punch the man in the face to subdue him. Gevvin released his sword to push away the groping hands and Carrus grabbed hold of the unarmed fist and rotated the other way. Gevvin flopped off the warrior and onto the dirt, scrambling to rise up before he was slain.
Carrus was faster, however, and he claimed his war hammer and Gevvin’s sword, aiming them at vital organs and threatening to end him, though the captain didn’t know he was bluffing. “Call off the fight,” Carrus commanded.
Gevvin coughed and nodded, reaching up to loosen his helmet. Along the way, his fingers slipped under his breastplate and unearthed a hidden dagger, which he threw at Carrus, catching him in the throat. The burly warrior gurgled as he collapsed.
Dariak saw him fall and he ended his earth spells, running forward with healing energies. Without the support of his allies, he became the prime target, for Kallisorians were trained to take down mages at all costs. Three swords flashed through the air, hunting Dariak down. Kitalla launched a dagger and caught one man in the nape, right under his helmet, killing him. The other two escaped her throws and sprinted.
He didn’t care what the cost would be for himself; Dariak couldn’t let Carrus die for his cause. The warrior hadn’t slain the captain because of the call for peace, and now his life lay in the balance. Dariak’s cloak hindered him slightly as he went, but he didn’t care. He ignored the incoming strikes and dropped to his knees, pressing his hands to Carrus’ throat and calling frantically for the healing energies.
It was Verna who saved Dariak’s life, for she abandoned her foes and charged after the mage. With a wild battle cry, she lunged through the air, tackling one of the swordsmen. She then flung her weapon at the other man, and the impact to his helmet knocked him down.
Only the captain remained a threat to Dariak, and Verna scrambled to her feet to intercede. Her toes dug frantically into the ground, propelling her ever onward, trying to reach the visionary whose quest would change the world. The captain pursued his immediate threat, however, ignoring the feral shrieks from the oncoming scrapper. Even Randler’s arrows did not deter him. His sword cut downward, preparing to sever the mage’s head clean off.
Dariak’s arms rose up and around and then rested again on Carrus’ neck, energies pouring from bloody fingers as the mage tried to infuse the man with healing. It was the energy he understood the least, but in moments of desperation he had felt some success. He pulled again, hearing the chaos all around him and knowing his end was nigh, but he didn’t care. If he couldn’t save one of his closest companions and supporters, what good was his quest anyway? He also knew that he didn’t have the time to erect any personal protections, for Carrus’ wound was too great.
Gevvin’s sword struck Dariak’s neck and the blade bit into his skin with a fiery agony. The mage felt his body pressed to the ground as the metal cut deeply. His head crashed into Carrus’ and he lost his focus on the healing spell completely.
Gevvin stood over Dariak triumphantly and prepared to lift his weapon to strike again. This time, Randler’s arrows were shot with fatal purpose and the captain’s face exploded in blood. Kitalla, Verna, and Ruhk focused their attention on the remaining battlers, while R
andler painfully hurried to Dariak’s side, tears streaming from his eyes.
“No, Dariak, no!” the bard shouted, tugging on the mage’s body. The blade was wedged into the back of Dariak’s neck and he madly wrenched the weapon out and cradled Dariak’s head in his lap. “No, you cannot die, Dariak!” His tears blinded him as he rocked the mage back and forth.
More fighters arrived from the outpost though they stopped at the sight of their captain dead on the soil. They drew their weapons and took defensive stances as Kitalla turned toward them, a crazed look on her face. She snarled wildly, her daggers poised to kill. Ruhk and Verna joined her soon after, once they had subdued the others.
Dariak’s healing spell hadn’t been enough, especially after it was interrupted. Carrus let out a final, gurgling gasp.
Randler continued to cradle Dariak, trying to hold the wound to keep him from bleeding out. He knew the damage to the neck would be fatal anyway, but he didn’t care. “You have to stay with me, Dariak,” he pleaded.
Moaning, Dariak whimpered. “Stop… shaking me.”
“Dariak!” Randler wiped his tears and tried to focus but he couldn’t see. He felt Dariak moving around, reaching for the wound and sighing.
“The jades,” he whispered, barely able to speak.
Kitalla faced off against the new fighters. “Who else would like to perish today?” she called. “I’m in a really pissed off mood.” She jabbed her dagger at one man, who jumped. “You?” Then she targeted another man, eliciting that same startlement. “You? Weapons down or face our wrath!”
The Forgotten Tribe Page 29