by Brian Murray
“There is one more issue I should clear up, but do not let it stop you from completing your task.” Gan-Goran paused and took a deep breath. “I have a twin brother. His name is Naats Flureic and he is the Darklord. All goodness was removed from my brother many hundreds of years ago. Do not hesitate if you face the man—destroy him swiftly if you can. But remember one thing, he is a powerful mage and his ability to use necromancy is mighty, second only to the Dark One himself. I tell you this now in case the man tries to use this knowledge against you.
“Now go and destroy the Dark One and his Dread. Why I tell you everything now is to warn you to be cautious.” He looked again at the three men, gauging their reaction. All of them wore shocked expressions. The magic-master had purposely left out a couple of key pieces of information. He left those out because he did not want the men to go into battle worrying. He would prefer them to go into battle feeling they could destroy the enemy—that they could win . . . could.
Now the king of the Rhaurns waited in a canvas city preparing for war, gathering the remainder of his army. He prepared to travel across the Steppes to help his friend, the Chosen, Emperor of the Phadrine, fight the Dread. The balance of his army already travelled to the white city, Kal-Pharina, by ship under the command of Admiral Rendel. They were due to disembark at Calcalion and then travel north to the city being held under siege.
The major problem for Zane was the fact that his warlord and friend, General Brooks, had been killed during the charge against the Dread at Teldor. Zane was now totally in control of logistics and strategy, and this played heavily on the young man’s mind. Dax, who Zane had appointed his warlord, did his bit keeping moral high. He walked amongst the men, joking and talking to the warriors. But Dax reluctantly did the logistical aspects of his role. So, they struck a deal where Dax would ensure the men were ready and Zane, with the help of Thade, made sure of supplies and weapons. But this still proved a heavy burden.
Zane walked through the splashing rain and found Dax talking with several axe-wielders, sitting by a campfire. The king joined the men, who immediately stopped their bantering, rose, and bowed to him. This annoyed Zane. He just wanted to listen to idle chat, but he was king and respected by all of the men following his exploits at Kal-Pharina months earlier against the Kharnacks. To the young king, that battle seemed to have happened a lifetime ago. Zane sighed and beckoned Dax to follow him.
“How goes it, Dax?” asked Zane.
“The men are ready and now eager to be on their way. They want to fight.”
“I’m just waiting for numbers so I can establish the best route through the Steppes.”
“It is going to be a long hard journey across the Steppes.”
“I know, but we have to get there as quickly as possible.”
“How’s Thade doing?” asked Dax.
“Not too sure. He had a bit of a fever when we left your home. But now I’m not too sure what’s wrong. I think he really misses Tanas.”
“They were starting to get close,” commented Dax, staring blankly at nothing, thinking of the blind warrior.
“King Zane!” someone called out through the sheeting rain. “King Zane,” the man repeated.
Zane instantly felt annoyed, for he hated been spoken to so formally.
Dax saw the irritation on the younger man’s face and answered. “Here.”
A scout came rushing to the sound of Dax’s voice and bowed deeply when he arrived and stood before his liege. “Sire, I have a man waiting in your tent.”
Zane looked at the man questioningly. There must be more the scout could tell him.
The scout looked at his king and realised he should give more information. “Sorry, your Highness, he has travelled from Mandeville and by the looks of the man has trekked non-stop. He brings a message from their baron for you, which he says is of the utmost importance.”
Zane digested the information and looked at Dax, who just shrugged. “Better go see what the man wants,” said the older warrior.
***
Jayson waited in King Zane’s tent, tired beyond description. Every bone and muscle in his body ached and all he wanted to do was sink into a hot bath, then sleep for a week. Yet here, cold, weary, travel-stained, he waited for his king. He had made the mad dash from Mandeville to the camp in record time. He had left Mandeville as soon as the baron had written the note for King Zane and had not stopped, crossing the rain-sodden hills of the Kingdom to reach his king. Jayson rubbed his chin and realised he had not shaved in many days. He sighed. And as he rolled his neck, a trickle of cold water ran from his shoulder-length, silver-streaked hair and down his neck. He swore aloud.
“That’s no way to greet your king,” said Zane jokingly, entering his tent.
Jayson had not seen his king in person before and was impressed by the man who faced him. He was tall, with long black hair tied at the nape, and strong broad shoulders tapering to his hips and legs. His eyes were true Rhaurn, stormy-grey in colour.
Jayson had heard the stories of his king in the battle at Kal-Pharina and looked forward to meeting him. He nearly forgot to bow.
“Sorry your Highness, no disrespect meant.”
“Ah man,” said Dax, walking in behind Zane. “We can all see that you are wet and tired, so let’s make this brief so you can rest.”
“I’m not sure if I will be resting any time soon sir,” replied Jayson, handing the precious parchment to Zane.
Zane read the parchment, then closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose between his middle finger and thumb. He slumped into a chair and without saying a word, handed the parchment to Dax to read:
***
My King,
I have been informed that an army of considerable size is gathered just north of the Great Mountains. It is believed that this army is not on manoeuvres but amassing ready to strike south at the heart of our lands. As you may be aware, the only pass for a group this size to cross through the mountains is Reach Pass, north of Mandeville. Unfortunately, the snows this year are late arriving and the pass remains open. I believe that this Rafftonia force will be heading south through Reach Pass within a week to strike at Mandeville, then head south.
Carrying this message is my senior scout, Jayson, the man who saw the camp. I thought a first-hand witness would prove more reliable when questioned. I know that you are gathering an army to travel east across the Steppes, but I believe that we have a more desperate threat to Rhaurien from the north. I hope you can aid us, for we only have two hundred and fifty men to defend against any invasion.
Your loyal subject,
Baron Daviton.
***
Dax finished reading the parchment and looked into Jayson’s eyes. The scout could feel the man’s anger growing but stood still, waiting to be questioned.
“You are Jayson?”
“Yes sir.”
“And you saw the camp?”
“Yes sir. The camp is situated three days east of the northern exit of Reach Pass. I estimated that the camp had ten to twelve thousand men.”
“And you believe that they are an invasion force?”
“Yes sir.”
Dax cursed and poured three goblets of watered wine. He placed one in front of Zane, handed another to Jayson, and sipped his goblet. “This causes us a small problem,” he concluded, talking to Zane.
Zane opened his eyes and smiled weakly at the older warrior. “That’s an understatement, my friend.”
Dax remained silent for a while, thinking. “Twelve thousand men?”
Jayson realised the older warrior was talking to him. “Yes sir, if not more.”
“I have been to Reach Pass. Is the wall still being maintained?”
“Yes sir, every summer the wall is checked by stonemasons and repairs carried out. The ditch north of the wall is dragged out every summer and the gate treated for any decay. The wall is fully functional.”
“That’s one positive point,” muttered Zane.
“
Built by masters in the old days,” muttered Dax, who looked at Zane. “We have to go.”
“All of us?”
Dax thought for a while and Thade entered the tent, beaming a smile.
“Oh, we have visitors. Greetings, my name is Thade,” said the former gladiator happily, removing his wet cloak and offering Jayson his hand. Jayson was thrown for a moment at the obvious likeness between Thade and his king. Like Zane, Thade had long black hair, broad shoulders, and steely-grey eyes. If the scout had not known any better, he would have said they were brothers. But he knew better—Zane was Logan’s only known son. The royal men were renowned for sowing their “royal seeds” but Logan was not one of them, or rather had never been caught. The scout gripped the man’s offered hand and smiled in return.
“Well met, my name is Jayson.”
“This is not good, Thade,” said Dax, handing Thade the parchment.
Thade quickly read the parchment and cursed aloud.
“What is the last count?” asked Zane.
“We have fifteen thousand men here now. I believe that Admiral Rendel has taken ten thousand and another five thousand are due to come here.”
“Twenty thousand men,” whispered Zane, looking into Dax’s violet eyes.
“Do you want to split the force, Zane?”
“So, how many men will it take to defend the pass?” countered Zane.
Dax looked at Jayson, who shrugged.
“I do not want to split the force, but it seems the only way,” started Dax. “We need all
the men possible to fight the Dark One but also, we cannot allow an invasion from the north, our backs will be exposed.”
“What about Kal-Pharina?” asked Zane, rising to his feet, his anger boiling up.
“Zane, we have to ensure the safety of the Kingdom first. Remember, we have left Teldor relatively unprotected. We cannot let the Rafftons loop in behind us. We must stop them in the mountains. Once the snows come and if the pass is blocked we can then travel to Kal-Pharina. But we must ensure they do not make it through the pass.”
Zane sat down again in silence and for a long while looked down at a map spread out on his desk. He looked towards Kal-Pharina, then followed a line northwest to Reach Pass. He estimated it would take his army several days to travel to Mandeville, then another three weeks’ hard marching across the Steppes to reach Kal-Pharina. That meant the Chosen might not receive help from the Rhaurns for over a month.
Zane took a deep breath. “We will take ten thousand men north to Mandeville. But I want a reserve army left here. If we do not send back word within three weeks, I want the reserve army to march to Kal-Pharina and help the Chosen the best they can.” He looked up at Dax. “You’re right my friend, I need to ensure the safety of my people first. Prepare my army to march. We go to Mandeville.”
Zane turned to Jayson. “I know you have not rested for a long while, but will you remain behind and tell my friends and me exactly what you saw in the camp?”
Jayson smiled broadly and nodded, feeling the relief that the army would march north.
Dax left the tent for a while to organise the march north. He sent scouts ahead and ordered the company captains to break camp immediately and prepare to march north. When asked, he told them the destination was Mandeville, but he did not yet tell them why.
When he re-entered the tent, he just heard the end of Thade’s question. “Why now? It seems too much of a coincidence they prepare to march south when we are going to Rowet’s aid.”
“They must have spies,” said Dax, lowering his large muscular frame into a foldaway chair that creaked in protest. “And they must be in a place of trust to know what we have been planning. I would say it would be someone that we would call a friend.”
“A friend?” asked Zane, puckering his brow, showing his anxiety.
“Yes, I believe that the man who has been giving the Rafftons information must be a man we would call a friend. He must be someone in Teldor until recently and furthermore, knew your movements.”
“There are only a few men with such knowledge,” commented Thade, hiding his rising anger.
“That’s why it must be someone close to us.”
All of the men sat for a while, thinking over the problem. “Well, there is only one thing to do,” said Dax, refilling his goblet.
“And that is?”
“If he shows himself, I will kill him,” Dax replied, his voice cold, icy cold and threatening. He then turned his attention back to Jayson and questioned the man for a further half an hour. When he considered he had all of his questions answered, Dax sent the man to get some hot food and rest before they travelled north.
Jayson left the tent, leaving the three friends.
“Do you believe him?” Zane asked Dax.
“Yes, there is no foulness in him. He is a true Rhaurn.”
“So, we’d better get ready to march.”
“Aye,” answered Dax, thoughtfully sipping his wine.
***
All three men were very concerned about the possible invasion of the Kingdom by the Rafftons. The Rafftonia was a vast expanse of land beyond the Great Mountains where very few Rhaurns had explored. There were stories of massive stone cities that would make Teldor look like a small coastal town. The buildings were all designed on a grand scale. But again, this came from small pieces of information gathered by Rhaurn spies. One thing for sure, the Rafftons could call on well over four times the number of warriors than the Kingdom and their solders were all well trained and disciplined. The Rafftons were as protective of their border with the Rhaurns and they saw the Rhaurns and the Phadrine as barbarians. As for the Kharnacks, the Rafftons loathed the mountain people and many Rafftons hunted them for sport. But if the Kharnacks hated the Rhaurns and the Phadrine, their loathing of the Rafftons was indescribable.
Dax and Zane decided to send a small force of men ahead of the main army. Dax and Thade led the small force made up of a company of veteran axe-wielders and light cavalry. Jayson helped Dax plot the quickest route back to the outpost and therefore the pass. Being a smaller force, the men did not need the supplies of the whole army and, therefore, could move quickly. They camped only briefly, mainly to rest the horses. While they camped, the axe-wielders would jeer the cavalrymen for having to stop. Needless to say, Dax set a rapid pace for the men to maintain. He wanted to reach the outpost within a couple of days and that meant they would have to march throughout the night. He did not want the Rafftons to have reached the pass wall before any form of defence could be readied. Through pouring, icy rain and a biting cold wind, the men marched on ever northwards towards Mandeville.
One thing still troubled and infuriated Dax more than anything else, more than the threatening invasion—who was the spy? As he had told Zane a day earlier, it must be someone they all knew. It must be someone they had trusted and held in a position of responsibility or next to someone who had such knowledge and access. The older warrior pictured many faces in his mind, but could not filter out which person would have betrayed Zane and the Rhaurns. While they marched, he and Thade spent much time talking about whom they had met. Neither could work out who the spy, the traitor, was. Dax thought of his friends in Teldor, including Zorain and Emyra.
***
Zorain had changed since Conn left the city. His long-time friend was the only City Watchman remaining since all of the problems at Teldor had started months earlier. Now he was left with Emyra’s former bashers, members of the Night Band gang, who had been enrolled into his Watch. This, at first, bothered the City Watch captain, but he got to know the men very well. He soon found out that they were all very loyal and dedicated to their new roles. He knew both Emyra, known as the Mistress, and some of her former bashers still had side-lines going with contraband and such likes. This Zorain thought was good, as it meant that no one else could make a move into the city.
However, Zorain felt lonely. His friend had been gone for a couple of weeks and he patrolled Teldor, the capi
tal of the Kingdom, alone. He wondered what his friend was up to and whether his family problems had been resolved. He wanted his friend to return. Sitting in his office, the large captain leaned back in his chair and started to reminisce.
Not that long ago. the Darklord and his force known as the Dark Brethren had invaded the city. At that time, he met King Zane and his friends Dax, Thade, Tanas, and Gammel. The queen and her daughter had escaped the palace when the Darklord arrived and hid in the city. At the Flying Vessel, a tavern owned by Rayth, the royal family had hidden and the group of friends had met to plan the overthrow of their unwanted tenants. One night, Thade had been captured by a beast called a Shadow and their plans were forced upon them. Thade was to be sacrificed to resurrect the Dark One. The friends, with the help of a couple of companies of axe-wielders, had stormed the palace where the ritual was being conducted. At the same time, Zorain and Rayth had led the city reserves to regain control of the outer-wall gates. The Horde, bands of mercenaries, slavers and some ex-soldiers who marched under the Darklord’s black banner had held the gates. It was a time of huge pride for Zorain. Even though Rayth got injured and Gammel died, the friends had succeeded in liberating the city.
Zorain smiled to himself at the memories. Those were good times, he thought. He looked up at the ceiling. “Aye, dark times but good friends were made for life,” he whispered. “I wish them well.” Zorain rose from his chair that creaked with relief, retrieved his baton, then walked from the City Watch offices. He had a meeting with Emyra and so he made his way through the quiet city. It was just after dusk, and most of the populous were inside. There was no curfew in the city, but most people remained off the streets after dark, many still fearful since the evacuation. Only a few men and women visiting friends or taverns walked the streets. Most people who Zorain passed greeted the red-coated City Watch captain warmly. The stories of his part in retaking the city were constantly being re-told in the taverns and marketplaces. He had become quite a hero. He did not like the label, but was happy that people had warmed to him. Even his wife received extras, small things like extra bread, meat, or milk. She was embarrassed at first but then heard the stories of Zorain’s exploits. At first she was mad with him, putting his life in such danger without telling her, but one night he told her the whole story. Now, more than ever, she felt proud of her husband and what he had achieved.