《Emerge Chronicles: The Battle of Kimmer Sea Plains》


 Stained yet with Blood

    ....PLEASE READ AUTHOR''S Pre chapter Note....


    The summer wind blew, causing the tall grasses and wildflowers of the field to sway back and forth gently as if a mother were caressing the cheek of her baby. In the sky, birds sailed lazily on the higher air currents without care, releasing high pitch shrills randomly. The weather was beautifully mild, with no malice of summer¡¯s heat in sight. This day was perfectly made to lay about and forget about one¡¯s worries. Just right for a visit to one¡¯s favorite swimming or fishing hole or to receive a proper scolding from one¡¯s mother or father for skipping out on your chores. One could be lulled to sleep in the shade of a tree comfortably while looking at the clouds in the sky, trying to figure out what animal they most resembled. This day was perfect; it was as if the Gods orchestrated it for men just to test their resistance to lazy tendencies.


    The land was a brilliant ocean of yellows, oranges, purples, and blues. A stronger gust of wind moved across the field suddenly, stirring the sea of flowers, and the insects surfed on the waves of pollen dust and seeds surfing the air currents, looking like the waves on a beach. The plains were vast, stretching out as far as your eyes could see. It was why these lands earned the name of the Kimmer Sea Plains. The way the wind caused the flowers and grass to sway with an almost hypnotic type of rhythm, visually tricking the eyes into thinking one was looking out upon an ocean. Clutches of trees dotted the landscape, reminding one of the breaks in a wave before it came crashing down. Now and then, a hill would rise somewhere in the distance, or a valley would carve its way through the land, sticking out as a blemish.


    A faint rumbled was felt in the land; it was a rhythmic rumble mingled with the sounds of metal scraping against armor, feet marching, and hundreds of men talking, all mixed together in a chaotic clamor. The noise came from a mass of men formed into ten squared formations. Each squared formation was composed of a thousand fully armed soldiers with an assortment of weapons, ranging from swords, spears, pikes, axes, and bows. Each soldier was wearing their respective tunics embroidered or patched on insignias of the lord they served. A sea of flags carried by young boys waved in the wind. The banner men represented each of the houses gathered in the army. There were the Sea Falcons from house Cenarus, the Oak Dragons of Tyrus, the Storm Hawks of Anathma, the Crow Daggers of Mulan, and many other lesser houses. One banner stood prominent amongst the throng of flags, mixed into each formation and larger than the rest. It was the Crystal Dragon banner of House Loudas, a dragon clutching a rose, and it was the banner of High King Danyais Hathat Loudas.


    ¡°The day is perfect, is it not my friends?¡± Danyais asked the nobles riding near him from atop his horse. Several of them nodded in acquisition to his statement. Danyais dismounted, and each of them dismounted, following their king¡¯s lead. He stood still and sucked in a deep breath. ¡°Enjoy this,¡± standing erect with his eyes close, feeling the wind pass over his face.


    The nobles did as their king suggested, taking the day in and looking around. Some joked and others talked about smoking a pipe, while some talked about on days like this how they would have invaded the kitchens to lay siege and torment the cooking ladies while stealing baked pies or sweetbreads before being forced into a sticky retreat by head cooks or wives, and others talked of fishing.


    Hearing the laughter and conversations from his lords and lesser nobles shamed Danyais. These stories and tasks they all wish they were doing right now were just a reminder of his colossal failure as a king. Danyais was fully aware he was responsible for leading his friends and, more importantly, his kingdom to this point. If only I were a stronger king three years ago, Danyais criticized himself. The King apologized to them all in his mind and begged forgiveness from those no longer with him, especially the ones who would have this last perfect day as their final good one. There was a battle to be fought, and for all he knew, this perfect day could be the last one he would experience.


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    Four years ago, it was a year of misfortune and sorrow. A massive storm approached from the ocean and laid waste to a quarter of his kingdom. The dead and missing were too large to count. The storm ruined entire cities, leaving no trace of some villages except the wells dug. Many of Loudas¡¯ southern inhabits abandoned the south, moving inland, making small villages into towns, towns into cities, and swelling cities beyond capacity. The overpopulated cities and towns had to deal with an increase in crime and sickness.


    As if the storm was just a prelude to catastrophe, shortly after the recovery efforts started, the vrollocs crossed the mountains in a massive dread raid and ravaged the northern regions. Their monstrous¡¯ existence until then was just tales used for stories to scare kids. King Danyais abandoned the recovery efforts in the southern portions of his kingdom and marched his army to war in the north to end the vrolloc incursion.


    During the campaign, Danyais¡¯ wife, Queen Sarinah, fell ill with child and died birthing their son, Ryghton. Both mother and child would have perished together if Cina, her childhood friend, and handmaid, had not cut the Queen¡¯s womb opened when none of the court physicians wanted to mutilate her body to retrieve Ryghton. Eventually, the vrolloc dread horde was vanquished at a considerable cost. Loudas lost about sixty percent of its fighting strength, and if it were not for Clyden, then the war would have been lost. Clyden used his magic to call fires from the sky to decimate the dread horde in a decisive battle.


    After the dangers from the vrollocs ended, Danyais disbanded his army and returned to his castle, Rose Claw, surrounded by Dragon Crest, the capital city of Loudas. In his grief, King Danyais ignored the state of his kingdom, and the recovery efforts were slowed in the south. In some of the areas of southern Loudas, the land became wild again, overran by feral pigs, and giant dire wolves the size of horses. The neighboring Kingdom of Sukkan, Loudas¡¯ former ally, took notice of the neglect and invaded the southern region, claiming the land as their own.


    It angered Danyais to think about how Sukkan invaded his kingdom. It was the catalyst he needed to pull him from his perpetual grief and motivate him to be a king worthy of the legacy his wife believed in. For the past two years, Loudas has warred with Sukkan bitterly, forcing them from the southern regions.


    Danyais patted his horse¡¯s cheek, handing the reins of his horse to one of the guards near him, and walked to one of the open bed wagons meant for ferrying the wounded or dead. Danyais raised his hand to the driver, and he pulled on the leather reins, easing the horses to a stop. Bowing his head to the king and touching his fist to his heart, Danyais approached the rear of the wagon, looking at the fresh wood of the wagon¡¯s bed. It isn¡¯t stained yet with blood. Danyais climbed into the back wagon¡¯s bed so he could be seen.


    He looked out into the crowd of men searching for his Lord General, and when he locked eyes with him, Danyais nodded to Clyden. The Magus Clyden wore the Crystal Dragon tabard of House Loudas, his head shaved except for a black braided side knot held together with a silver hair ring. On Clyden¡¯s shoulders were smelted heads of a dragon skull with the bottom jaw missing, marking him as Danyais¡¯ Lord General.


    Clyden walked toward King Danyais, and the men in his way parted for Clyden as if a mountain were walking through a river. They divided out of fear and respect, touching their fists to their hearts in a salute. Or maybe it was the fact Clyden was carrying Witch Devil, the ominous black war glaive in his right hand driving them away in respectful intimidation. Witch Devil¡¯s blade was a metallic black, and upon closer inspection, runes of silver and gold were engraved from the tip of the blade and even wrapping around the staff portion. The wicked glaive was more than just a weapon. It was the magus¡¯ focal thaumaturgy, aiding Clyden in using his magic. Where the blade met staff, leather tassels with bones tied at the end dangled freely. Clyden held the glaive upright, so the blade pointed to the sky. He wanted to avoid stabbing someone on accident in the thick crowd gathering before the king.


    Coming to a stop at the wagon Danyais was standing in, Clyden cast a spell. Witch Devil¡¯s blade glowed a reddish-orange color. All the banners and flags throughout the army became rigid, surrounded by an orange glow, and no longer moved freely in the wind. Three years ago, magic was just a parlor trick. No one believed in it, and this sight before them would have been frightening. Not today, though. Because this was a common occurrence when Danyais wanted to talk to his troops or orders needed to be issued throughout the army, all the flags would become rigid. Many of these men here had witnessed Clyden¡¯s magic during the Dread Horde campaign. The tales of Clyden, the magus who worked wonders with magic, the magus who slew countless vrollocs with the ¡°fires from the sky¡± spread throughout Loudas. The stories were even carried by merchants to other lands, fostering his fame even more.

 Just Hungry, My King

    Clyden¡¯s ¡°fires from the sky¡± was a last-ditch effort to end the war with the vrollocs.  At that time, King Danyais was not in the proper mindset to lead a war after receiving the news of his wife¡¯s passing.  What everyone did not know was that the victory over the dread horde was a pyrrhic victory for Clyden.  The ¡°fires from the sky¡± consumed and stressed Clyden¡¯s magical essence, pushing him perilously close to the edge of mental collapse and death.  Since then, Clyden¡¯s magic was just a former reflection of what it used to be, and he would never gain his strength back magically.  The penalty for using too much of his magic after abstaining from using it for over thirty years.  Still, Clyden would not have changed his mind at the time if given the option to redo things.


    In his current condition, Clyden could only manage non-complex spells with the amount of essence he had left.  He was fearful of using his magic for anything significant now without the aid of his glave, Witch Devil.  No one knew this secret but him, and he would not even share it with Danyais, whom Clyden now considered a friend since their first meeting in his forest home almost three years ago.


    Clyden handed Witch Devil to the king.  The spell he just cast would allow the war glaive to transmit Danyais¡¯ voice or anyone talking near it through each banner in the army so long as a person was touching the glaive.


    ¡°Is it ready?¡± King Danyais asked, taking Witch Devil in hand.


    ¡°It is, King Danyais,¡± Clyden said.  As if to confirm his answer, those near flags started gathering around standards. Others began to shush their fellow soldiers with fingers to lips.  Danyais gave them a few minutes, and silence fell over the gathered army.


    ¡°For four years, we have pushed and fought for today,¡± Danyais said, his voice passing through the stiffened banners affected by Clyden¡¯s magic.  ¡°We have bled over our lands.  It started in the south four years ago, beginning with the storm, countless dead and missing.  Then the dread horde three years back where we bravely fought and drove the vrollocs back over the mountains.  Then two years ago, Sukkan, who supposedly was our ally.  Sukkan, who ignored our calls for aid when we held the dread horde in check.  Sukkan, whose army invaded and took the south.¡±  Angry murmurs and vows of revenge meander through the crowd.  ¡°Today!  My Lords, my friends, and comrades, the south is ours again.  The Sea Falcons have returned,¡± Danyais paused, looking at Lord Elton Cenarus; he raised his wicked double-bladed axe to the air, cheering.


    The blades of Cenarus¡¯ axe were designed as sharpened metal wings of a falcon.  The bladed wings attached to a falcon¡¯s head with its beak pointing up, offering Cenarus another way to dispatch his enemies.  Cheers roared forth from Cenarus¡¯ men as they saw their Lord raising his axe into the air.  Much of the southern region and port towns along the sea belonged to Lord Cenarus.


    Danyais raised his hand and waited for the cheers to subside.


    ¡°My son will be three years soon.  Three years and he has not known his mother, will never know his mother.  I have not seen him but a few times during these turbulent years.  I have not heard him laugh nor witnessed his first steps.  I have seen him cry.  My own son is fearful of me and does not know me, his father.  I am but a stranger to him,¡± Danyais said, fighting the torrent of emotion in his heart and voice.  His men saw the struggle in their king, they felt the regret in Danyais¡¯ words, and it motivated them even more.  ¡°I am told he likes to chase chickens.¡±


    ¡°He is just hungry, My King!¡± someone blurted out.  Witch Devil caught the comment and carried it like lightning throughout the army¡¯s banners, followed by thunderous raucous laughter rolling over the mass of gathered men.  Danyais silently thanked the man who said the joke.  It allowed him a moment to recompose himself.


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    ¡°Even though it grieves me to my core on what he has not known, there is still something of far greater significance than the loss of his mother, my wife, and your Queen.  Something far worse than the time taken from my children and me.  My shame!¡± Danyais¡¯ voice heated as he admitted his failure aloud for the first time to his army.  ¡°I regret that he has not seen Loudas at peace!¡±  He observed his men¡¯s heads shake in agreement with him.  King Danyais saw the white knuckles of those closest to him grabbing their sword hilts, spears, or whatever weapon they had in hand.  ¡°I regret so much, but none more than the peace he has not seen, the peace we have not all seen.  Three years ago, none knew we would be here standing in these fields on this beautiful day.  None of us knew we would sit at our fires at night and think of friends, brothers, sisters, sons, husbands, or wives taken from us in bitter remembrance.  Tomorrow when King Uthman¡¯s army enters the Sea Plains.  I ask, no ask, it is not strong enough.  I command tomorrow shall be the last day we ask any of our countrymen to have to sit by fires in bitter remembrance.  I command that you do not let me have to ask our sons or daughters to sit and share those bitter flames with us.  I command no one shall die until they take at least five men with them, be it soldier, blacksmith, or cook.  I command!  I command we shall have peace!¡±  The crowd exploded in a frenzy of cheers as Danyais lept down from the wagon, handing the glaive back to Clyden.  With a nod at his Lord General, the king walked away, leaving the following matters to Clyden.


    ¡°War Council to me!¡± Clyden boomed loudly, his voice carrying through the banners before the glow around Witch Devil faded, freeing the flags in the army to move naturally again.  He held Witch Devil high in the air so people could find him easier in the throng of men gathered in front of the wagon Danyais had just delivered his speech.  Clyden looked at the nobles surrounding him to make sure all the King¡¯s war council was present.  ¡°Ready your men. Set the formations as ordered earlier.  No mistakes!  If we fail here, Sukkan will be at the gates of Dragon Crest in two weeks.  We war for ¡®peace¡¯ tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°For peace!¡± the nobles responded with heated passion around him, touching fists to hearts.


    Clyden started to walk away but turned around when he heard Lord Cenarus shout, ¡°For Peace!¡± Moved by his King¡¯s words earlier, Lord Elton Cenarus climbed into the back of a wagon.  ¡°For Peace! For Peace!¡±  He repeated over and over, raising the winged double-bladed war axe into the air.  Soon, the call was taken up by the men near him, rippling out through the rest of the army.  The call for peace traveled throughout the Kimmer Sea Plains.


    Clyden smiled and walked over to his horse, placing his foot in the metal stirrup, flinging his leg over the horse, and settled in his saddle.  Resting Witch Devil across his lap instead of securing the weapon in its harness.  Clyden applied a gentle kick to the horse¡¯s side, and it began to trot away from the army.  Pulling up on the reins, Clyden brought his horse to a slow walk before letting the animal meander in the field, eating its fill of the wild grasses while he studded a hill in front of him.


    Out here in the flatlands of Kimmer, the hill seemed like a mountain.  It had a long cliff face with rock stabbing into the ground.  Clyden rode along the cliff wall¡¯s face until he pulled the horse¡¯s reins, bringing the animal to a stop.  He dismounted and secured Witch Devil in its harness.


    ¡°Go get you something to eat,¡± Clyden said, patting the horse¡¯s rear.  Neighing, the animal walked away lazily, searching for more grass to eat.  Clyden walked to the stone of the cliff and touched it, turning around to judge the distance of the Loudas army from him.  This will work.  He curled his tongue in his mouth and parted his lips, whistling loudly.  His horse looked up from the grass he was assaulting hungrily and trotted back to him.  He patted the horse on the cheek. ¡°What do you think?  This will work, right?¡± he asked the animal, hoping the animal would agree with him.  As if sensing Clyden¡¯s uneasiness, the horse neighed and shook its head in affirmation.  ¡°Your right.  It has to work no matter what,¡± unbuckling Witch Devil from its harness.  ¡°Help me out this one last time, old girl,¡± he spoke to his glaive, kissing it.


    ***

 The Lucky Dead

    ***


    BANG, BANG, BANG!!!


    A repeated loud knocking woke Zander from his slumber; his eyes opened slowly before he closed them again because of light spilling through the windows.  Zander pulled the woolen blanket over his head with a moan.  It is far too early for this. Just poison me now.  Take me, Gods!  Please, I won¡¯t complain at all!   The bang repeated against the door to his room as if the Gods were showing Zander contempt.  Bah, you all never paid attention to me anyways.


    ¡°Lord Zander!  Lord Zander!  You have to come see this!  They sent me to get you!¡± a voice screamed through the door as the knocking continued at a frantic pace.


    Zander took one of his feathered pillows, ever intent on drowning the sound out, and placed it over his head.  But the sounds of Dragon Crest¡¯s warning bells roaring to life spurred him into action quicker than any man could wake him.  Zander cursed his life and mumbled something about poison as he jumped out of bed.  He twirled around in the room, looking for his pants.


    Where is the servant girl when I need her?  He noticed his pants crumpled up on the floor, lying near his bed.  Zander wobbled over to them, bending over to retrieve them and quickly pulled them up over his waist before securing them.


    ¡°Are we under attack?!¡± Zander asked, making his way quickly to his door and opening it immediately.  The door groaned with the seasoned aged hinges in dire need of proper oiling.  I wonder why all the hinges squeak in the castle.


    ¡°No, Lord Zander! At least I do not think so,¡± the boy yelled.  Zander winced at catching the full audio force of the announcement with no door to buffer his eardrums.  The messenger¡¯s eyes went wide, staring at a shirtless Zander.  ¡°I am sorry, My Lord,¡± he apologized quickly.


    ¡°Alright! Alright!  Tell them to cut noise!¡± Zander yelled at the guard down the hall.  ¡°If I am awake, then only drunks and the lucky dead are left asleep!¡±


    ¡°Sir!¡± the guard replied with his fist to his chest before motioning for a replacement from another post to take his spot before darting off at a run to carry out Zander¡¯s order.  Even after all these years since being raised to the peerage and given responsibilities, Zander thought the notion of him giving any orders was ludicrous.  What right did a former slave have to be in a critical position to give anyone orders?  But as far-fetched as it was, here he was in charge of the defense of Dragon Crest and the safety of Danyais¡¯ greatest treasures.  The King¡¯s two children, Crown Princess Arinah and her younger brother Prince Ryghton.


    Zander pivoted, spotting the shirt he wore yesterday draped over the back of the chair pushed under his desk.  Leaving the doorway, he walked over to it using his right foot, hooking one of the chair legs with it and pulling it out, the wood scraping across the wooden floor while he struggled to put the shirt on.  Zander sat down in the chair, pulling the shirt finally over his head.  The young boy was looking at him curiously just outside Zander¡¯s door.


    He is probably wondering how I got in charge.   You and half the other bloody nobles, also kid.


    Zander¡¯s story was widely known throughout the kingdom.  Many tavern bards often told tales of him and sang songs of his comedic and sometimes heroic platitudes.  The slave friend of a king who was raised to the peerage due to bravely fending off an assassin¡¯s poisonous dagger meant for King Danyais, nearly almost costing his life.  Or of the story of the goat in the royal quarters, which seemed to be a favorite of everyone.


    Zander¡¯s eyes quickly scanned the room again, looking for his boots. With his hand, he flung the covers draping over the edge of his mattress back on the bed, exposing the boots just tucked underneath.  He fished his boots lazily out from under the edge of his bed with his feet.


    A slave was still a slave, after all.  It would take generations for his family to erase the stigma of being branded as such.  Never mind the fact Zander thrashed and outperformed most of King Danyais¡¯ generals in mock battles and siege warfare.  He often out maneuvered the nobles in their schemes, mostly out of boredom or pettiness.  Even more importantly, King Danyais appointed Zander himself to the position; therefore, there should be no qualms about his status within the kingdom.  A lot of Zander¡¯s current success was due to Clyden¡¯s harsh and forced education the magus subjected him to.  He feared the magus¡¯ threats of stopping time in his body and dressing him in a suit of armor.  The picture of being left to collect dust in some corridor of Rose Claw if he did not submit to the magus¡¯ forced curriculum was all too vivid.


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    Thinking back, Zander wished he had paid better attention to the lessons he was allowed to attend with Danyais when they were young, a special privilege granted to him by the former king.  Out of all the curriculums Zander was subjected to, he only paid attention to two topics.  Sword fighting and court etiquette.   Sword fighting because what boy did not want to slay dragons and vanquish their foes?  Etiquette because it always pissed his teachers off that he acted the part of a wild heathen animal around them, forcing them almost to multiple aneurysms but would be the epitome of nobility the next when in view of any nobles other than Danyais.  Later, when he was older, Zander realized etiquette would work on the ladies and it was off to the races for him.  At this point, Zander figured he could even out king the king with his manners.


    ¡°What is your name, boy?¡± Zander asked, looking around his desk for the pitcher of ale from last night.  Spotting it, he noticed there were no glasses.  One of the servants must have grabbed them already, but it did not stop him from raising the pitcher to his mouth, guzzling the last few gulps down.  The kids¡¯ eyes could not hide their shock at seeing a noble gulp ale from a pitcher.  ¡°Have to have breakfast,¡± he smiled at the boy. ¡°Your name was what again?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I am Yancey, Lord Zander,¡± he said, bowing the best he could, trying to hide his embarrassment.


    ¡°Alright.  Yancey, what is it that I have to see?¡± Zander asked, smelling the collar of his shirt, his nose scrunching up in reaction to the odor infused in it.


    ¡°Follow me, my Lord.  I have them saddling your horse already.  I do not have the words to describe it.  You just have to see it,¡± Yancey said, taking off at a run.


    ¡°Try,¡± Zander was saying, but he cursed Yancey¡¯s quickness as he watched the boy disappear around the corner.  Quick as rabbit, that one.


    Zander grunted as he slipped his boots on and exited out of his room at a brisk walk, trying to catch up to him.  Zander never managed to catch up with the young messenger until he arrived at the stables.  Yancey sat atop his horse, already waiting for Zander.  A stable boy led Zander¡¯s saddled horse, War Hag, a really inappropriate name that did a disservice to the horse since it was the sweetest animal in the King¡¯s stable.  The horse¡¯s demeanor was nothing like the person who gifted it to him, whom Zander named it after.


    Yancey was looking nervously at the lowered gates of Rose Claw leading out into the city.  ¡°Open the Gate!¡± a guard yelled.  The gates groaned as the portcullis rose in preparation for their departure.  Wendell of the King¡¯s Guard was standing there with ten of the King¡¯s Guard.


    ¡°Secure the eggs,¡± Zander said, ordering them to keep Danyais¡¯ children safe, ¡°and Cina,¡± he added while mounting War Hag.  The men and Wendell touched their fists to their chest before disappearing back into the castle quickly.  At least they don¡¯t give me any pushbacks.


    Zander rode towards the rising portcullis. When it was just high enough, he ducked under it, with Yancey and several of the King¡¯s Guards following him, escaping into the city of Dragon Crest.  Some of the guardsmen sped up their horses and were already screaming for the streets to be cleared.  Although the warning bells had already done most of their job for them.  They picked up speed as the streets emptied, riding towards the main western gate.  Zander could see the guards on the wall rushing down the walkways, converging on the same point he was being led to by Yancey.  As Zander neared the massive gate, the warning bells finally went silent.


    Laying in front of a smaller door built into the larger gate, he saw a man breathing heavily, sitting down, and leaning his back on the door.  To the left of the man on the ground was a black war glaive.  Witch Devil, it¡¯s Clyden.  Zander¡¯s mind raced with a sudden surge of fearful thoughts.  Zander pulled on the horse¡¯s reins, dramatically slowing its pace; he hopped down before the horse even stopped, covering the rest of the distance on foot.  Kneeling, Zander grabbed Clyden¡¯s shoulders and jostled him.


    ¡°Clyden, what is going on?  The King! Where is Danyais?¡± Zander fearfully asked.


    Clyden¡¯s eyes opened weakly, and he pressed a note into Zander¡¯s hands.  Clyden spoke in broken, incomplete sentences, born of exhaustion.  ¡°The soldiers, are they ready?  Prepare¡­  now¡­Sukkan tomorrow¡­battle¡­¡± sucking in breaths between words, ¡°at least twenty¡­I must stay¡­¡± he trailed off as exhaustion took him, Clyden slumped into Zander¡¯s arms.


    ¡°Clyden! The King!¡± Zander said, pushing Clyden back against the wooden door he was leaning on initially.  When the exhausted magus did not respond, Zander sucked in a long breath filled with uneasiness.


    ¡°Is he dead, Lord Zander? I have never seen a dead man.  Who is he, my lord?¡± Yancey asked, firing off a quick sequence of excited questions.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be daft!¡± Zander said, momentarily looking at the giant gate, his eyes traveling up the wall.  ¡°Hey, you up there!¡± he yelled at a guardsman at the top of the wall.  The man looked down, eyes widening in disbelief.  ¡°Stop gawking and send for a doctor.¡±  Zander opened the note and was relieved when its contents revealed the King was safe, at least for the time being.  The letter was a set of instructions Clyden wrote for the impending battle with Sukkan.  If they failed, then King Danyais would die.  ¡°Don¡¯t cha worry, Clyden.  I know what to do.  I will even make sure you sleep comfortably,¡± he said, smiling.  Zander looked back up the wall and shouted at another guard, looking down at them, ¡°Bring me a carpenter!¡±


    ***

 The Farmers Wisdom

    ***


    Prince General Uthman Sukkan II looked at the roughly made sand table constructed while drinking from a goblet filled with fermented berry wine.  On the sand table, multiple rocks that were painted purple and red sunken into the soft sand.  The purple stones represented military forces under his command, and each stone was equivalent to a thousand troops.


    Eighteen thousand troops, Prince General Uthman counted the purple stones for what had to be the hundredth time.  He looked at the sand table, studying the positions of his infantry and archers, tapping the side of his goblet with his finger.  In his other hand, he held two green rocks that he kept rubbing together in a circular motion.  The green stones represented his mounted forces, another two thousand soldiers.  There was another white stone painted with a green scorpion sitting on top of a larger rock marking the position of his headquarters.  His headquarters rested on top of the only large hill in the area with a cliff face pointed at the Loudas¡¯ enemy lines.  A solid strategic point the idiotic commanders of Loudas missed.  The blunder was a monumentally egregious act of negligence, and if Uthman were the one to make it, he feared even his father would contemplate having him executed over such an oversite.


    On the opposite end of the sand table were ten smaller red rocks standing in contrast, marking the Loudas¡¯ army positions.  A single white stone marked what they believed was King Danyais¡¯ command tent.


    ¡°They only have ten thousand men and no cavalry.  Are you sure, Meckus?¡± Prince Uthman asked his second in command and uncle.


    Meckus was a tall man, corded with muscles, and his beard was long with gray streaks, matching the dark and gray streaks in his hair.  Like many of his countrymen, Meckus was tan because of the scorching sun in the Sukkan desert.  Over his right eye, there was a gold ring piercing his brow.  Meckus was a supremely skilled tactician and an even more vicious warrior.   He had to be.  After all, Meckus was the half-brother of King Uthman Sukkan I and the only living sibling outside their sister Princess Shevannis.  Both Shevannis and Uthman shared the same mother, the only reason she survived her older brother¡¯s murderous rampage.


    Many of Prince Meckus¡¯ half-siblings were murdered by Uthman, purged in his pursuit of the throne.  Meckus proved elusive and escaped his brother¡¯s treachery during the early days.  Still, the king pursued him, unwilling to leave a capable heir to the throne alive.   After losing scores of men to Meckus, King Uthman eventually contracted the assassin guild, and they sent one assassin after another to kill Meckus.  He kept sending the heads of each killer to King Uthman as gifts.


    The assassination attempts continued, and it was not until Meckus stealthily sneaked into his half-brother¡¯s chambers one night that the contract was withdrawn on his head.  Meckus woke his brother using the King¡¯s own dagger, cutting Uthman under the right side of his jaw.   That night Prince Meckus offered his brother two options, the gift of King Uthman¡¯s own life and faithful service from him, or else he would have killed King Uthman where he slept.


    Prince Meckus had no intention of ever sitting on the throne.  Meckus always enjoyed wandering about the sands of his country or traveling to faraway lands in search of adventure.  He would rather enjoy the privileges of royalty with none of the responsibilities.  So, the thirst for power did not even interest him at all.  King Sukkan accepted his brother¡¯s generous offer, and the scar on the right side of his neck was a constant reminder of the bargain struck between them.  After their conversation, King Uthman lifted the assassination order on Meckus.  It was rumored that the king had to pay a hefty penalty fee for the loss of the guild¡¯s resources and for them to set their pride aside.


    ¡°My Prince, it is as we all reported.  Our scouts are pushed to a day out, and not even a whiff of them,¡± Meckus said.


    ¡°What army travels without cavalry?¡± Prince Uthman asked, his men shrugging their shoulders.  The lack of any calvary was odd, idiotic at most, but its lack of was nonetheless disconcerting.


    Another man who somewhat resembled the prince spoke up.  It was his cousin Ahshean by way of his father¡¯s sister, Princess Shevannis.  ¡°Our spies say the cavalry lags behind trying to purge the northern portion of the south of dire wolves.  The Stone Wolves will be disappointed at the prospected loss of new pups.¡±


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    ¡°I wish my father would have given me the Stone Wolves to command,¡± Prince Uthman said.


    ¡°They would have mauled them to death for sure.  Remember, cousin.  Great King Uthman sent you here to secure the plains before our main army arrives.  Maybe King Danyais marched here ahead of the cavalry for the same purpose as your father sent us,¡± Ahshean said, offering a feasible explanation.


    ¡°Uncle, you have always said that war is moving forward for victory,¡± Prince Uthman said, repeating one of his uncle¡¯s teachings.


    ¡°It is as such, Prince Nephew.  War is like the weather and seasons that farmers watch.  They never know if the Gods will grant them a favorable harvest or curse them to starve.  But the farmers will still sow their fields because they know you cannot eat if you do not plant.  There will be no victory without blood,¡± Meckus said.  Several commanders, including Prince Uthman, who was on the fence about attacking, nodded or voiced their agreement, won over by the sound advice of his uncle.


    ¡°We have no way of knowing if they have a reinforcement army on the way in the next day or two, just like us, and what of the Magus?¡± Prince Uthman said.


    ¡°Even if they have reinforcements, we can hold this position,¡± Meckus said, getting up from his seat.  Walking to the sand table, he tapped the larger rock representing the higher ground they held.


    ¡°It is a superior defensive position,¡± Ahshean said, siding with his uncle.


    ¡°It is as my noble nephew says, my Prince.  We can easily hold for a week if need be, to allow your father to come up with our main army to smash them.  As to the rumor of the magus, even our Great King, your father, believes they created the legend to act as a deterrent in Loudas¡¯ weakened state.  Both he and I don¡¯t believe in the stories of the fire rain.  It is nothing more than arrows dipped in animal fat.  Besides, no scouts have seen a glaive wielder amongst their army since our arrival.¡±


    ¡°Send more scouts to look again,¡± Prince Uthman ordered.  Best to be cautious.


    ¡°Prince, you can sweep Loudas from the field before your father arrives.  They have no cavalry, and we have the high ground.  It will be a great victory if we manage to kill King Danyais in battle and end this war before your father shows up,¡± Meckus said, picking up the white stone representing Danyais¡¯ command tent and tossing it to the ground.


    ¡°It is a sure victory.  Should we not wait for Father so he can have the honor of taking Danyais¡¯ head,¡± Prince Uthman asked.


    ¡°Your father would hang me for being negligent if we do not attack when the victory is overwhelmingly ours for the taking,¡± Meckus said, putting his hand around his neck and mimicking a choking motion with an exaggerated gagging noise.  ¡°Maybe even hang you, eh?¡±


    Prince Uthman smiled at his uncle¡¯s joke.


    ¡°I guess we best save our lives then,¡± Prince Uthman said.  His war council spent the night planning for the battle the next day.


    ***


    ¡°Peace! Peace! Peace!¡± the Loudas army shouted in answer to the Sukkan army¡¯s war cry.  The men on the frontline of the Sukkanian army were nervous about the Loudas¡¯ army reply.  The way the Loudasian army said peace was not as if they were asking for it.  It was said in a way that death would be the final peace for the Sukkanian army.


    Prince General Uthman Sukkan II watched the Loudas army and smiled.  This will be a glorious victory.  He did not read the tension in his men well, and he just assumed it was the nerves of the coming battle.  Right now, the Sukkanian squad leaders would be assuring their men about how they outnumbered their enemy.  Encouraging them to take comfort in their numerical advantage.  They would emphasize to their squads the lack of cavalry among the Loudas army and how theirs would break the back of Loudas army with them doing little more than clean up duty.


    I hope Father approves.  Prince Uthman was always seeking his father¡¯s approval and seldom ever achieved it, but the times when he did, his father would make proclamations and declare celebrations for his son throughout Sukkan.  Prince Uthman raised his hands and colored banners raised high in the air in response.  Within the ranks of the Sukkan army spread out over the perspective battlefield, other banners raised in confirmation.


    The day before, when his twenty thousand men arrived, he sent out scouts, and they reported back on Loudas¡¯ strength.  Prince Uthman and his generals delighted in the numerical and geographical advantage they held.  Prince Uthman¡¯s men held the high ground, and his headquarters rested on top of a hill with a long cliff face, allowing for superb communications and logistics.  In an unfathomable worst-case scenario, the hill would be a horrendous fortified position for the Loudas army to assault, a bitter, grotesque mistake the Loudas army made by letting his army have it.  ¡°Be sure the archers maintain constant fire until our cavalry is in danger of our own arrows,¡± Uthman ordered.  More flags went up, and the wind whipped at them.  Both armies moved to engage each other.  ¡°This will be our victory!¡±


    ***

 Cheap Honor

    ***


    Zander looked through the peephole of the smaller door built into the massive gate. On the other side of the gate was the Sukkan army Clyden warned him would arrive today. Zander shook his head, sliding the peephole shut, turning around to look at an archer who was with him. The archer was young, and his name was Kayman. He can¡¯t be a day past 15.


    ¡°It is time, Kayman. Send the signal. The Sukkan army is gathering in position to attack,¡± Zander said.


    ¡°Are you sure, my Lord?¡± Kayman asked.


    Any other time Zander would have been annoyed since he was under stress, but today he smiled at the boy archer.


    ¡°Take a look for yourself,¡± Zander said, tapping the peephole door, leaning against the gate. Kayman walked up to the small door, sliding the peephole open, looking through it. A shocked expression flashed across Kayman¡¯s face, his mouth dropping as his eyes darted back and forth. He saw a large number of men and horses moving about 200 meters away. He could hear some of them shouting commands, and the men began to organize into formations. Kayman listened to the rumble of horses¡¯ hooves as they speed away to assigned locations. The Sukkan cavalry moved to the front of their infantry lines in preparation for a charged assault. It sounded like the thunder of an incoming storm. Zander closed the peephole, cutting off Kayman¡¯s view.


    ¡°The signal. I-I-I will send it now, Lord Zander,¡± Kayman said, his mouth robbed of moisture.


    Walking over to a fire pit nearby, the young archer removed a blunted arrow from his quiver, the tip was wrapped in a cloth soaked in oil. Kayman held it over the flames. The fabric caught fire, spewing copious amounts of white smoke. Kayman notched his bow aiming the arrow to shoot straight up. He released his fingers on the bowstring, and the wind of the string passing his cheek sent the arrow high in the sky above the western thorn wall of Dragon Crest, trailing white smoke behind it as the arrow soared higher. The white smoke stood out in the early sun of the day.


    Moments after its flight, the warning bells of Dragon Crest roared to life. Soldiers and cavalry moved to their predesignated rallying positions. The sounds of an army preparing for battle were loud, the sound carrying back up into the city of Dragon Crests. For days, the citizens knew something was going to happen and now with the warning bells tolling. You could hear the panic cries of some citizens as the inhabitants on the streets as they rushed to their homes to seek shelter.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Zander said, leaving and walking towards a tent nearby before turning around. ¡°Oh, do not open the peephole again.¡± The young archer shook his head yes in acknowledgment.


    Most people would have thought it odd for a tent to be pitched next to a gate, but not Zander, since it was his idea to pitch it there in the first place. If one were to scrutinize the tent, they would have noticed that the tent¡¯s canvas was nailed to the massive gate.


    The craftsmen who even constructed it for him all thought it was an odd thing for them to be requested to do. Yes, many would have found this strange, impractical, and certainly out of place. But within the tent, the sole occupant, Clyden, was asleep. The magus called it a genius idea during a moment of lucidness. Of course, Zander agreed with him.


    Just as Zander was about to walk through the tent flaps, he paused for a moment, and then a grin flashed across his face. Anyone that knew him would have recognized this look. It was Zander¡¯s ¡®I am about to do something I shouldn¡¯t do look.¡¯ There was a bucket full of water sitting next to the tent¡¯s entrance. Zander stuck his finger in the water, and it was cold. Grinning, he picked the bucket up and entered through the tent flaps.


    Zander stealthily approached, completely freezing in place when Clyden spoke, ¡°You know I can hear the warning bells, right? And if I couldn¡¯t hear that, the sound of five thousand cavalrymen moving into position for a battle is only a tad quieter.¡± Clyden sat up, wearily eyeing the bucket of water in Zander¡¯s clutches.


    ¡°Your hearing must be superb, really animal-like. I mean, I heard the bells,¡± Zander said as he tilted his head to the side. He took his free hand and cupped it to his ear, trying to catch any sounds with it. ¡°I do not hear any horses, though.¡±


    As if to sabotage Zander, a horse neighed while someone barked, ¡°Watch that horse over there!¡±


    ¡°What do you know? There was a horse after all,¡± Zander said. Clyden stood up and looked down, seeing Witch Devil lying in the grass. Clyden maneuvered his right foot under the portion of the weapon where the blade met the haft and kicked it up in the air, and in one smooth motion, he caught it in his right hand. ¡°I brought some water for you to wash up,¡± Zander quickly said after what he witnessed. ¡°Or drink. You know if you are thirsty.¡±


    Clyden was about to expose Zander and tell him his farce was over with when they both heard cheers being raised. The men were shouting with repeated exuberance the name of their Crown Princess, ¡°Arinah! Arinah! Arinah!¡±


    ¡°Poison me now!¡± Zander said, dropping the bucket and sending its contents spilling into the grass. He exited the tent swiftly. Zander¡¯s head was on a swivel like a starved owl peering in the dark for food as he searched for the cause of the commotion. Clyden followed closely behind, and they both were able to spot Ari riding on a white horse.


    Ari wore a polished breastplate crafted for her size, a symbolic gesture since she was only eleven, and there was no way the girl would even be allowed to fight. The breastplate had her family crest of the Crystal Dragon, clutching a rose painted on it. Ten King¡¯s guardsmen flanked the Princess, five on each side of her. Her guards eyed the crowd, ready to strike any of them down. Ari¡¯s dynamic red hair was braided in a single long braid. She wore dyed black woolen pants with white roses stitching on the side, and a Dragon patch was sewn on the right thigh. Her boots were plain black. The cheer continued as she rode her horse to the front of the gate, where Zander and Clyden stood.


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    Banner men rushed, trying to secure a prominent position to display their lord¡¯s flags before the Princess. Ari raised her hand for her guards to hold as she covered the rest of the distance alone.


    ¡°Princess?¡± Zander said, taking her horse¡¯s reigns near its bit in hand.


    ¡°Hello, Lord Uncle,¡± Ari said. Even though he was not her uncle, it was a term of endearment she used for him. ¡°Before you start. I know what you are about to say. ¡®It is too dangerous for you to be here. This is no place for a future queen. Did Cina really let you come? You do not have enough guards and something about poison¡¯,¡± Ari said while attempting her best imitation of her lord uncle. Zander raised his free hand, index finger as if about to make a point before falling silent.


    ¡°What are you doing here? The battle is about to start. Why would Cina let you come? Ten guards! Not nearly enough for you,¡± Zander said, leaning around Ari¡¯s horse, eyeing the guards with malicious intent as if he could devour them with a sinister gaze. He finished his rant by trailing off, saying something about poison and peace.


    ¡°Haha, the girl. She knows you well,¡± Clyden said with a chuckle.


    ¡°Are you well, Lord Clyden? I was told you were terribly fatigued,¡± Ari said.


    ¡°I am fine now, Princess. Just ready for all this to be over with,¡± Clyden said. ¡°What of you?¡±


    ¡°I have come to do my part,¡± Ari said with determination.


    ¡°Your part? Your part right now is for you to turn around and take them ten idiots that allowed you to come down in the first place back to the castle,¡± Zander said.


    ¡°Uncle, I must do my part,¡± Ari said, staring down Zander.


    Zander was about to argue and insert his authority to the fullest. But when he saw the pleading, fierce determination in Ari¡¯s eyes, he faltered. Caving in like a drunk finding a cask of ale in his bedroom and not having to worry about working for the next three days.


    ¡°Bah, poison me now. Alright, do ¡®your part,¡¯¡± Zander said sulkily.


    ¡°Clyden, I am told you have a way for many to hear one¡¯s voice,¡± Ari said.


    ¡°I do, Princess,¡± Clyden said. Clyden looked out over the throng of soldiers and horses. The men assembled faster than expected when they learned their future queen was present. Some were still dressing where they stood or, if on a horse, rode. Banners representing the noble houses of Loudas were mixed throughout the crowd, along with squad flags and the royal Crystal Dragon banners. A lot of the men still chanted the princess¡¯s name. Clyden judged the spell would work and spoke words none around him would understand.


    The banners and flags in the gathering army grew rigid, no longer pliable in the wind, and surrounded by an orange glow. Some banner men who had never seen this before moved their flags as if trying to make them work properly again. Witch Devil glowed reddish orange at the blade.


    ¡°She is not hot. Stay on the horse when you speak. Touch her, and she will carry your voice to the flags,¡± Clyden instructed her, turning the dull side of his glaive towards her. Clyden expected her to be hesitant about touching a blade appearing hot, but Arinah grabbed it immediately. Brave girl.


    ¡°H-H-Hello,¡± Ari said tentatively. The crowd stopped moving, their collective attention focusing on the closest banner near them. Some startled flag bearers who had never seen or heard of this magic before dropped their flags. ¡°I am P-P-Princess Arinah Lizbeth Malve Loudas,¡± she announced nervously to the gathered men. Clyden thought for a moment if he should end the spell. ¡°Brave banner men do not be afraid. Lord Clyden has used his magic so that my voice could be heard amongst you through your flags,¡± those who dropped their banners picked them up hesitantly after Ari explained. Men barked orders for silence at hearing the Princess¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Yesterday, I learned of the impending battle you all will fight today. War is something I still do not understand. If I am to be honest, I hope I will never understand war. My father, our King, if he was here, I am sure he would have the right words to say to you all. The right words to steel your nerves and give you a glimpse of your impending victory. The right words to add to your abundant courage and noble hearts. However, I am not my father, and I have not the wisdom yet to know the words needed for this situation.¡± She paused for a moment. ¡°What should a Crown Princess say? It is the question I pondered all last night. I have not the words to say to you all as your Crown Princess, and I fear they would be meaningless,¡± Ari paused. ¡°Many of us have not seen our family for far too long or worse, lost some of them during these last few years. Death has visited us all, changing our families in ways we should not have had to ever see. No words as your Princess do I have to offer you,¡± she paused again, taking a deep breath. Ari could feel their eyes on her. Some of the men looked at her with concern, and other looks were gazes of protection.


    ¡°I have only the words of a little girl. So, I will speak as a daughter, a sister, cousin, a niece, and nothing more.¡± The nervousness present in her voice from before was wholly incinerated in the passion of the words she now spoke. ¡°I look at you, my brave fathers, my funny uncles,¡± she locked eyes with Zander, ¡°my irreplaceable cousins and my beloved brothers.¡±


    As if on cue, a woman sitting on a horse at the rear of the gathered troops lowered the hood, partially concealing her face. She unfurled her dark cloak. The woman was Cina, and in the castle, no other servant held a higher position than she did. In fact, one would be hard-pressed to find a noble willing to disrespect her due to the high status she held in the royal children¡¯s hearts. Cina held on to the reins with one hand, nudging the horse to walk down the middle of the formation. The gathered soldiers had no choice but to break ranks and allow Cina to pass. She guided the horse with one hand, and the other arm was wrapped around the body of Ari¡¯s little brother. Prince Ryghton was wearing his tiny crown and a long shirt with the Crystal Dragon of their house sewn onto it. His tiny legs were in black leggings, and he had little brown boots on. The soldiers noticed the small three-year-old and excited murmurs course through the ranks; some called out his name. A lot of the men¡¯s faces became like stern granite.


    ¡°Poison me now,¡± Zander muttered under his breath, exasperated at the fact both of the king¡¯s children were exposed.


    Ari picked up Witch Devil, catching Clyden by surprise. Ari positioned the glaive, hugging it with her left arm while the reins of her horse were held in her right hand. She guided her horse forward down the middle of the formation. The gathered cavalry in the front split to allow Ari free passage. She continued to speak, ¡°You all do not look at a princess or a prince today! Today we are your blood! I am your daughter! Your sister!¡± she stopped the horse. Ari pointed toward her brother. ¡°There is your son, my fathers. My beloved older brothers, see your little brother. Today I ask you not to fight for Loudas. I ask you today! No, I beg you, do not lay your life down for duty, courage, or honor. Do not sell your lives so cheaply today. I ask you to wage war for the only thing that matters. Your family!¡± Ari closed her eyes; a single tear traveled down her cheek. Her family roared louder than any storm could ever hope to sound.


    ***

 A Message With A Piece of History

    ***


    Arrows fell from the sky with an unhindered and cruel malice of indifference, piercing both men and horses indiscriminately.   Wounded men and horses ran around in frantic states, screaming or neighing in pain.  The sun was like a dragon¡¯s breath, scorching all those living and dying.


    The crows, attracted by the sweet smell of blood in the air, flew high above in the sky, eagerly anticipating the horribly prepared feast. The furious clashing of swords drowned out the screams of men crying for their mothers and wives.  Soldiers lay on the bloody ground turned into red mud, clutching their wounds, trying to crawl their way to safety while others of an evil and cruel nature on both sides stabbed mercilessly at them, lost in this brutal ecstasy of violence.  Few managed to be dragged away by comrades to safety.  The chaos of battle screamed across the land, and it was a ruthless storm raging in the Kimmer Sea Plains.


    Prince General Uthman looked at the glorious scene in front of him.  He was dressed in his battle armor.  The armor was pale green to match the Jade Scorpion of his house¡¯s banner.  His hair was braided with black silk ribbons intertwined through it.  Under his arm was a silver helmet with cheek guards shaped like scorpion pincers.


    ¡°Loudas will fall today! Bring me my horse! I go to battle!¡± Prince Uthman exclaimed.


    ¡°My Prince, there is no need for you to sully your sword today.  Look, they are already collapsing,¡± Meckus said, protesting his nephew¡¯s decision.


    ¡°I will go, uncle.  Perhaps you are too old for this?¡± Prince Uthman questioned his uncle with a challenging grin.


    ¡°Ha-ha-ha Come, nephew, let us see if I will leave you any glory this day,¡± Meckus said, smiling back.  Both men climbed into the saddles of their mounts.  Ahshean mounted up to join them.


    ¡°Cousin, I am sorry, but today you are meant to be the last messenger,¡± Prince Uthman said, raising a hand and stopping Ahshean from mounting his horse.


    The last messenger was the person with the responsibility of reporting to the King the outcome of a battle.  If the battle was won, then it was an honorable assignment.  But if the battle was to turn against them and they should lose, then it was an unfavorable position to be in and yet was a necessary one.  Prince Uthman could see the disdain on his cousin¡¯s face.


    ¡°I mean you no disrespect in this.  I just fear your mother would kill me if anything were to happen to you,¡± Uthman joked.  The joke seemed to work on Ahshean as he smiled.


    ¡°I will watch and report,¡± Ahshean said, pausing for a moment, ¡°And I will report of uncle¡¯s deeds of valor today,¡± he finished.  Their uncle, Meckus, laughed as he kicked his horse in the side.


    ¡°Well said. You hear that, Prince Uthman?! My glory is assured!¡± Meckus yelled over his shoulder, his horse speeding off.  Uthman smiled at his cousin and followed his uncle with haste.  Ahshean watched his uncle and cousin, along with two hundred mounted men, descend around the side of the hill to dive into the glorious rage of battle.


    ***


    Clyden looked through the peephole of the gate, studying the chaos of battle unfolding before his eyes.


    ¡°It is time, Zander.  Remember when the last man is through, you must burn the gate. It will stop anyone from trying to get through and keep it going until you are sure the gate is destroyed,¡± Clyden said, turning to look at the men on their horses.  The gate was so huge, and once opened, they could never close it again, leaving an open door into Dragon Crest. The flames would be the only thing stopping an invading army from rushing through.


    About a hundred feet from the gate, the Loudas cavalry was in formation.  There were fifty cavalrymen side by side and a hundred rows deep.  Older men carrying buckets of animal fat and oil painted the massive gate as high as they could reach.  To the left and right of the gigantic gate laid large piles of wood soaked in oil.  At the very back of the cavalry formation, there were at least thirty wagons loaded with larger logs gathered from the forests around Dragon Crest.


    ¡°Clyden, will this work?¡± Zander asked.  He had doubts about committing every cavalryman in Dragon Crest on one strike while leaving the gate open for a counterattack.  At least the sun is at our backs; a slight strategic advantage, Zander thought to himself while studying his elongated shadow stretching to the gate.


    ¡°It only has to work once, Zander,¡± Clyden said.  And this will be the last time such a feat will never be done.  Clyden was the only one who knew the difficulties of what he was about to do.  He theorized, sounding much like his beloved friend Lizbeth, that doing this would cost him his life at the most or rob him of the ability to cast magic ever again.  Either possibility was scary, and he did not know which he preferred.  Even so, he found the resolve to commit to such an action.  Maybe the guilt he carried around about his friends¡¯ deaths led him down a suicidal or self-crippling path in some distorted sense of justice he felt he deserved.  Perhaps and more than likely, the reason was that Danyais¡¯ children were his friends¡¯ namesakes, and he would never allow them to fall into the hands of enemies.  Clyden would burn the world for them.  He would return to how he was when the ignorant worshiped him as an evil god if it meant Ari and Ryghton would be safe.


    Ari sat on her horse next to Cina, surrounded by her guard, now swollen to over fifty men.  Earlier, Zander tried to persuade Ari to leave the gate area, but she refused.  Causing him to repeatedly curse and kick at the ground, wishing for peace while glaring at everyone as if they were the reason for Ari¡¯s stubbornness.  In the end, Ari offered her uncle a compromise and had her brother return to Rose Claw for safety.


    Clyden began to cast a spell, and Witch Devil glowed.  The flags within the formations glowed and became rigged like they did when she delivered her speech before.  Clyden ushered his horse quickly to Ari, with Zander following.  Clyden held out his glowing glaive in front of Ari; she laid her fingers on the blade.


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    ¡°My fathers! My brothers! My uncles and cousins!¡± Ari shouted.  Those with shields pounded their fists on them.  If they held spears, they tapped them together with others.  It was a noisy river of bravery, fear, and anticipated violence.  Ari listened to their heartbeat of war for a moment.  ¡°All that matters!¡± she shouted.


    Five thousand cavalrymen sitting on well-rested horses shouted, ¡°Family!¡± back at Ari.  They repeated it over and over.  The words Ari delivered earlier, like a single withered and dried up leaf being put into a blacksmith furnace, burned their fear away.


    ¡°Now, Zander!¡± Clyden shouted, ending the spell.


    Zander rode away, pulling a tall spear free with a purple flag stabbed into the ground near a team of ten large oxen twice the height of any man.  The oxen were blindfolded so they would not panic when the cavalry rode straight at them.  The closest oxen team to Zander was tethered with thick chains to the upper right-hand corner of the enormous gate.  Matching oxen teams were positioned in the middle and on the left side of the gate.  Zander stood up in the stirrups of his horse.  He raised the flag high and waved it feverishly, the purple flag catching the wind, giving the oxen-team drivers the signal.


    ¡°Now!¡± Zander shouted.  The oxen moved in unison, their muscles bulging, letting out massive grunts and whines as they protested the weight of the gate they were trying to pull down.


    The massive gate refused to budge, proving too much for the oxen to handle.  Clyden sighed inwardly before dismounting and running towards the gate with Witch Devil in hand.  If I do this, it will end me.  He hesitated, even though he knew what was at stake. Clyden looked at the massive gate, contemplating his own potential demise.  Some of the mounted men cheered the oxen drivers on, while others cursed the beasts for not being strong enough.  It was the sound of Ari¡¯s voice pleading with the oxen drivers and beasts to give it their all.   Her words provided Clyden with the push he needed.


    All in!  Clyden looked at Witch Devil, and a bright orange aura surrounded him.  He touched the massive gate, turning its edges a bright orange as if a blacksmith was heating iron for shaping.  With a cracking sound from the stone, the gate finally loosened, the sound traveling down the orange outline of the gate starting near Clyden until it reached the far end opposite of him.  The bright orange aura flickered around Clyden; he let a scream of fury and agony as his aura vanished.  He reached for his magic essence, and it was gone.  Clyden felt lost, angry, afraid, grateful he was alive, and yet wished he wasn¡¯t at the same time.  Clyden reached out for his magic again, but there was no sign of the inviting glow that accompanied him for all his life.  His magic was gone.


    The massive gate, large enough to allow fifty men to ride at full speed in formation, was finally pulled down by the oxen teams.  It impacted the ground with a loud thunderous thud, kicking up dust.  The gate pounding into the land acted as a gong, bringing Clyden back from his despair and forcing him to focus on the task in front of him.


    A horseman rode swiftly towards Clyden, towing his warhorse.  Clyden ran towards them, tossing Witch Devil at him.  The man snatched the glaive out of the air while Clyden ran temporarily on the horse¡¯s side before jumping onto the steed¡¯s back, not even breaking the horse¡¯s stride.  The man escorting Clyden¡¯s horse passed Witch Devil back to the magus.  Clyden raised Witch Devil over his head and kicked the horse to full speed, passing through the large opened gate.  Sukkan would pay dearly for what they cost him.


    The cavalrymen of Loudas saw the Sukkanian army before them.  They kicked their horses into a torrential motion, spurring them into a wave of fierceness.  The horses parted around the blindfolded oxen team in the middle of the gate.  In a collective voice, the men were yelling, ¡°Family!¡± as they passed through the opened gate.  Cavalrymen charged through the gate furiously, banners snapping in the wind. The Loudas cavalry spilled out from the gate fifty at a time in swift succession onto the Kimmer Sea Plains through the largest Fade Realm gate ever made.


    The last fifty of the five thousand cavalrymen rode over the gate before bringing their horses to a stop.  Each man had a stomach of a butchered animal filled with oil tied to a rope.  They all briefly rotated the stomachs attached to the ropes before slamming them against the gate.  The impacting force broke open the stomachs and covered a large section of the gate in oil before they set off to catch up with their comrades.


    ¡°Fire the gate!¡± Zander yelled at the remaining people left on the outside of Dragon Crest¡¯s walls.  ¡°If it burns, throw it in.  I don¡¯t care if it is your Gran¡¯s favorite chair!  Toss it in!¡±  Men grabbed logs soaked in oil and tossed them on top of the gate.  The gate quickly turned into a massive inferno, the flames licking up the stone walls of Dragon Crest.  Even Princess Ari was tossing in weaved baskets and smaller logs she could carry, her face covered in soot before her guard forced her back to the castle.


    The wagons transporting the larger logs were moved as close as they could get to the raging fire, while teams of four worked to unload the logs and ferry them to the raging fire.  Men and women carried blankets soaked in water, trading them to those working the frontline of the fire, trying to offer them dull moments of respites from the inferno.  The one Zander had on was steaming from the heat.


    Once the last of the logs were thrown into the fire, Zander ordered the horses to be cut from the wagons, and they pushed them into the flames. Zander staggered away from the heat, marred in sweat and ash, looking around to see if anything else could be added to the fire.  He reached into his pockets to see if he had anything to add to the volcanic heat.  Zander pulled from his pocket the note Clyden gave him the day before.  Zander started to ball it up with the intention to toss it in the fire, but then he stopped.  He opened the note again to read it.


    ¡®Zander, if you are reading this note, I am either dead or unable to speak.  Even if I am dead, follow these instructions, and Loudas will win.  Right now, King Danyais will face a force of twenty thousand tomorrow.  As you can see, I made a gate in the wall of Dragon Crest.  It should be big enough to fit fifty horses through, side by side.  When we ride through, the sun will be at our backs.  I need rest if I am not dead, but I can¡¯t leave the vicinity of the smaller gate even if I am dead, or it will seal, losing the advantage of the peephole.  The larger gate is already open, and If I am dead, then the gate will remain open unless destroyed.  Use the smaller gate¡¯s peephole to watch for when the Sukkan army begins preparation for an assault.  Do not worry about the other gate in Kimmer; it will look nothing more than a cliff face to the Sukkan army.  We left the high ground to them on purpose so they would ignore the cliff face.  Their army should take up positions down the hill not too far from where we will exit from.


    When their cavalry moves, then the time to strike will be near.  Gather and brief the officers tonight on their duties and move our cavalry.  Create a staging area in front of the gate for our five thousand.  They must be ready to move at a moment¡¯s notice.  This is why we left the cavalry here, so they will be rested and ready.  The second and most important thing, the gate must be destroyed to prevent the Sukkan army from having a direct path to the capital should we fail.   Use fire.  Zander, if I am not dead, then I will look forward to seeing you when I wake up.¡¯


    ¡°You really did have it all figured out,¡± Zander said to no one in particular.  Folding the note, Zander placed it into his pocket.  He could not bring himself to burn a piece of history.


    ***

 A Dance of Tears and Wraith

    ***


    ¡°Bring me a chair!¡± Ahshean barked harshly at a servant girl in a sheer teal silk garment.  Among the servants, Ahshean was known to be on the kinder side when compared to the callousness of other nobles.  Maybe it was because he was the only son in his family, and being raised around two sisters and a mother doting on him soften him.  But now he was frustrated being stuck atop the hill in their encampment and did not even bother to moderate his tone.  The source of this frustration, both his uncle and cousin.  All he could do was enviously watch his uncle and cousin ride into battle, fighting for the chance to claim glory.  Two men carried a chair to him, and he plop down in it, kicking his boots against the dirt, sending a small puff of dust near the chair legs.


    In Sukkan, war and bloody conflict were just below their faith in the gods.  Battle and blood were preached to them from such young ages, a harsh philosophy for people living in the sun-scorched harsh deserts.  Sanctioned duels monitored by the Dueling Guild were often fought and at least twice the number of unsanctioned duels because not everyone could afford the fees the guild charged.


    Ahshean looked at the battlefield, seeing his cousin at the front with his detachment of two hundred cavalrymen.  Uthman pressed the middle of Loudas¡¯ lines, carving off sections of soldiers with each push he and the cavalry under his command.  They crashed into the lines, fighting like rabid dogs chasing down small fowl before retreating, only for the infantry to march into the gaps they made, bullying the already bloody Loudasian soldiers.  Seeing his cousin¡¯s success dampened Ahshean¡¯s mood even more.


    In another part of the battlefield, Ahshean spotted his uncle. Meckus preferred to fight on foot and was with the infantry.  No doubt hunting for the heads of nobles, Ahshean grunted frustratedly.  ¡°Wine!¡± Another servant girl shook as if struck by the tone of his words and hastily brought a golden goblet with the scorpion of House Sukkan on it.  She tilted the decanter of red berry wine, filling the cup.


    ¡°Give it to me!¡± Ahshean said taking the decanter from her hands, sending the serving girl away with the goblet.  He lifted the decanter and drank several gulps of wine down.  Stopping when he heard a loud sound. A sound loud enough to drown out the screams and clash of metal spilling up the hill from the heated battle below.  It was like a giant tree falling in a forest. No, it was a hundred trees screaming in unison as they toppled over, kicking up dust and crushing rock where they impacted.  Instantaneously Ahshean heard a massive call of ¡°Family!¡± being shouted.  It came from the bottom of the cliff.  He moved carefully to the edge.  Before getting to the cliff¡¯s edge, he saw two men riding away.  One of the men carried a black war glaive.  He looked at the man with his glaive pointing towards the flanks of the Sukkanian army.  The Magus!  Ahshean¡¯s heart sped up at the sight of Clyden.


    Then the ground rumbled as if the earth was going to break apart.  Bits of rocks loosen from the rumbling, dislodge from the cliff face, tumbling down into crashing into the ground, thudding into soft ground or cracking apart if striking another rock.  Steadying himself, Ahshean leaned to look over the edge of the cliff, and he could not believe his eyes.  The Magus turned the cliffs of the Kimmer Sea Plains into warriors.  They appeared from the face of the cliff fifty at a time, row after row.  He backed away from the edge of the cliff, afraid they might ride straight up it to get to him.  ¡°There is at least seven thousand!¡± he spoke aloud.  Black smoke billowed up; Ahshean leaned back over and saw flames spewing from the rock face.  He could feel the intense heat licking up the sides of the cliff.  Ahshean stood there dumbfounded, peering down the side of the cliff.  He wondered what horror would emerge next.  Does he plan to bring demons next!?  Ahshean¡¯s paralyzed and fear-infused mind drifted to imagined horrors.


    It wasn¡¯t until a guardsman shook Ahshean by the shoulders, shouting at him, that he recovered adequately.  Ahshean could only recognize some words the guard was saying, ¡°Your Excellency¡­Last Messenger.¡±


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    ¡°That¡¯s right, I am the last Messenger,¡± Ahshean said, repeating back in a shocked tone.  Ahshean watched the sea of summoned cavalry waves break over the rear of the Sukkan army, washing them away like loose sands on a beach.    He saw his uncle trampled to death, drowned in the bloody ocean.  ¡°I am the last messenger.  ¡®It was our vic-victory,¡¯ they said.  Even uncle said it was true.  We never do anything without uncle¡¯s approval.¡±


    Ahshean saw the magus dismount about 50 feet from his cousin¡¯s horse.  The Prince General spurred his horse to charge, intending to trample Clyden.  But the magus sidestepped Prince Uthman¡¯s horse at the last possible moment.  Witch Devil dug into the horse¡¯s side tearing muscles and sending blood spraying in the air.   The glaive crossed over Prince Uthman¡¯s right leg.  If it was not for the prince¡¯s saddle offering resistance, he would have lost the leg.  Instead, Witch Devil left a deep gash before slamming into Uthman¡¯s thigh bone, cracking it.  Prince Uthman¡¯s horse reeled up, and its painful screams mingled with all the other death on the field before falling over.  The Sukkan guards with Prince Uthman grabbed him, dragging him back deeper into the ranks of their infantry.  The right flank of the Loudas army infantry swung out and started to push inward on the Sukkan army.  At the same time, the Loudas Calvary mercilessly devoured the infantry from the rear.


    ¡°It¡¯s over,¡± Ahshean said, the horrid realization setting in.  His eyes follow the Magus.


    Clyden did not want to let his prey go.  Any other time he might show mercy, but not today.  Even if momentarily, he needed to release his anguish, his wraith, he need to mourn for what he lost today and the only way he knew how was to bring anguish and blood to those who caused it.  Sukkan would pay dearly for the loss of his magic.  Clyden followed Prince Uthman through the mass of men rushing to protect their Prince.  Ahshean breathed a sigh of relief once he saw the magus in his foolish pursuit of Prince Uthman had put himself in peril.  If we can just kill him.


    Clyden was surrounded by at least fifty Sukkanian infantry with no hope of escape for him.  The relief Ahshean felt moments earlier turned to despair as he witnessed the impossible fury of the magus.  Anyone who stood near him died in a beautiful dance.  Ahshean could not comprehend how a solitary person who fought surrounded by enemies was not at a disadvantage.  His partner Witch Devil entrance the men who came to dance, and the men died one, sometimes three at a time. The weapons of Clyden¡¯s enemies shattered when Witch Devil embraced them with her wicked dance, limbs flew from bodies, heads cleaved floated in the air before falling to the ground, and blood sprayed like rain around the storm of the magus, baptizing him in blood.  ¡°He is not human! It is Golduvan!  The God of death walks the field!¡±  Ahshean watched as Clyden finished off the last of Prince General Uthman¡¯s guards, splitting the man from sternum to hip.  His cousin crawled away, digging at the torn ground with his fingers in desperation. Any noble semblance of the prince had vanished, replaced by a man trying to steal a few more seconds from the clutches of death.  Clyden stalked behind him like a dire wolf hunting a young ewe without the protection of its shepherd, the outcome already as inevitable as the sunrise in their desert lands.


    ¡°I am the last messenger,¡± Ahshean slumped into his chair.  He saw his cousin raise his hand in a pleading motion before Clyden swung his glaive, passing through Uthman¡¯s wrist, severing it before reaching his cousin¡¯s neck.  Prince Uthman¡¯s head flew into the air.  Not pausing, Clyden turned and dove back into the mass of battle, claiming more dance partners for his beautiful and terrible dance of death.


    Ahshean looked at the left flank of the Loudas army.  They moved into position, and the vise closed on the Sukkan army.  He looked back at the tent they all sat in the night before feasting and toasting to their easy victory today.


    ¡°My Lord, we have to leave now!¡± It was the same guard who pulled at him earlier.


    ¡°Leave? Why?¡± Ahshean asked, confused as to why he had to leave.


    ¡°My Lord, the battle is lost!  You are the last messenger!¡± the guard said.


    ¡°I am the last messenger,¡± Ahshean said.  Looking around, noticing the servants were already fleeing.  Any other person put in his position on reporting about such a debacle of a battle would feel undeniable fear.  But at this moment, a peaceful calmness filled Ahshean.   In his life, Ahshean feared only one thing.  Not even the giant Kaz-Scorpions of the heated sands of his homeland could force his heart to palpitate in fear. That was not to say Ahshean did not know fear.  The only thing he feared was his uncle, the King.  However, today he found something that scared him more.  It was the magus, Clyden.  He got up from his chair, mounted his horse, and rode away, saying, ¡°I am the last messenger,¡± one more time.


    ***

 A King Really Does Know

    ***


    The following day, after the battle of Kimmer Sea Plains. King Danyais and Clyden sat on their horses overlooking the battlefield from where the Sukkan headquarters were once was. The King was dressed in black and gold armor, cleansed of the blood from the day before. The Dragon on his chest was gold plated, bordered by bright white paint. His armor had dents, and his tabard was slashed in more than one place.


    Even though they annihilated the Sukkan army, the fighting was fierce and heavy. The King rode out himself at a crucial moment to fight, rallying the left flank to attack when officers reported Loudas cavalry was attacking Sukkan¡¯s rear flanks. His generals and officers did not know the cavalry¡¯s sudden appearance was always part of the overall plan. Danyais and Clyden even went as far as to make false reports so that it seemed the cavalry lagged days behind. Even Clyden¡¯s disappearance on the eve of battle was all carefully orchestrated. Many of the nobles thought of him as a coward and gossiped among themselves with his disappearance. They knew King Danyais would hear their slights, but politics and rumormongering were all part of the game. There is a saying, ¡®The only slander not heard is the one never spoken.¡¯ The next day after the battle, many of those same outspoken lords found Clyden and apologized profusely. Especially those who witnessed the carnage Clyden wrought with Witch Devil on the battlefield firsthand. They would want to avoid conflict at all costs with him. Luckily, Loudas did not embrace the duel as wholeheartedly as their counterparts in Sukkan did. That did not mean duels could not be fought in Loudas, though.


    The battle went well for Loudas, with only three thousand dead or wounded. The crows flew around the field of death, freely eating and testifying to the state of the Sukkanian army. Some birds seem lethargic in their flight from the dead they feasted on. Men on horseback rode through the field, chasing giant dire wolves just a tad smaller than their horses away, killing them if they could. Squads of men retrieved and buried the bodies as quickly as possible. Nobles were to be salted to preserve their bodies for their families on both sides. All that remained of the twenty thousand Sukkanians were five thousand prisoners.


    ¡°Yesterday, the men killed a bear. Who would have thought it would take so much death to show us life is abundant here in the Kimmer Sea Plains?¡± King Danyais said to Clyden.


    ¡°Only place I know where no life exists is in the Fade,¡± Clyden said.


    ¡°I will take your word for it. So, tell me again of Ari¡¯s words?¡± Danyais asked with a proud look on his face.


    ¡°How many times are you going to have me tell you the same story? You are going to make me like Zander and have me wishing to be laying down there with those poor unfortunate men or fortunate ones now that I think about it,¡± Clyden said.


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    ¡°Ha-ha-ha! Alright! Alright! I will ask the cavalry squads tonight at the victory feast,¡± King Danyais said, raising his hands in a yielding motion.


    ¡°Just remember, Ari isn¡¯t your daughter anymore, and you have two thousand more sons than you had the other day. The right of succession is going to be a complicated affair,¡± Clyden said, and both men laughing wholeheartedly.


    ¡°If I only knew the touch of their mothers,¡± Danyais joked, and even the stoic King¡¯s guards in range of hearing laughed.


    ¡°May I have a word with you?¡± Clyden said.


    ¡°Always, my friend,¡± Danyais said.


    ¡°Alone?¡± Clyden asked, looking at the forty men who were nearby. They were eyeing even the rocks and bushes no taller than a man¡¯s knee as if a Sukkan assassin waited behind any of them.


    ¡°If you would please give us time, we have things to discuss,¡± Danyais said to his guards. They moved away, and some guards dismounted, pulling out small crossbows.


    Clyden waited for the guards to be further away before continuing the conversation.


    ¡°After this war, I request to take leave back to my forest. I have nothing of worth to offer anymore. My magic is gone, and I can¡¯t,¡± he stopped speaking when King Danyais raised his hand. There was a mild look of disappointment on Danyais¡¯s face.


    ¡°If you are telling me that you want to go back because you are tired or want a respite, I will grant it. Gods know no one deserves a break more than you. But Clyden, if you are telling me that you want to go back because you think I will not value a magic-less friend. Even forgetting about said magic-less friend¡¯s other numerous contributions, then I will ask you to take up Witch Devil and fight me now. Even though I know no man can best you in combat. I would rather die that death than have you slander your worth in front of me,¡± King Danyais said.


    The sincerity and strictness of Danyais¡¯s words completely ambushed Clyden.


    ¡°I-I-I,¡± Clyden did not have time to talk again.


    ¡°Let me finish,¡± Danyais injected, raising his right hand in a stopping gesture. ¡°I have known for a while. I had a feeling something was wrong after the fires from the sky three years ago with the vrollocs. You have barely used magic and never once without your glaive. I do not want you for your magic. The Kingdom of Loudas needs you for your wisdom. I am just greedy and want you for your friendship.¡±


    Both men just sat on their horses. Neither of them knew what to say next. Clyden was embarrassed and humbled at the powerful words just spoken to him. A King really does know what to say, Ari.


    ¡°To the blood!¡± One guard shouted, interrupting Danyais¡¯s and Clyden¡¯s moment of brotherly solitude. The guard took a horn made from a bull¡¯s horn and blew it as loud as he could in three quick bursts. The signal the King was in danger. Other horns repeated the same call. Men rushed to gather their armor and arms. Even some half-naked soldiers mounted on their horses and rode as fast as they could to their king¡¯s position. Men whom were wounded and that could walk set out for their King.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Danyais asked.


    ¡°There, my king,¡± several answered at the same time, pointing to the east. In the distance were about two hundred mounted men, a cavalry scouting force, and behind them, further back, was an enormous dust cloud.


    ***