The Lone Traveler - Part Twenty-Eight

The Lone Traveler
Chapter Twenty-Eight

“I have dispatched a message to Emperor John suing for peace,” Queen Denize told the assembly of Lords and Knights in the great hall. “Word has reached me that the capitol of Alataria has surrendered and opened its gates to the besieging forces. This will allow the Angalund forces there to march south towards Vituria. King Charles is planning on staging a breakthrough of the siege lines and take his forces home to protect the borders of Vituria. We cannot hope to win without allied support.”

“We cannot allow this!” Cardinal Vicarius yelled. His defiance of the Queen was now in the open for all to witness. “Camalund can hold. If we succumb to the Angalunders, our great realm will be sliced into pieces and given to the Angalund lords and knights who will dominate us like slave masters. I have faith in the lords and noble knights of Camalund. I beg you not to support the Queen in this cowardly and traitorous decision.”

A great uproar spread throughout the massive chamber. The Queen raised her hand for silence but the uproar continued. The mob was now yelling, fight, fight, fight! Queen Denize realized she had lost the initiative. Lord Smythwaite and the Cardinal had evidently been talking with the other lords behind her back, as usual, convincing them to stand with him. He must know that she had hoped to cut a secret deal with Emperor John to retain her throne and power.

Unexpectedly, young Prince Robert stood and held up his hands for attention. The great assembly slowly quieted down. “I also have faith in our divine right to rule and believe in the sovereignty of Camalund,” he slowly scanning the crowd. “I saw it in the faces of the Army as I rode through them in the heat of battle. We will make no cowardly deal with Emperor John” He turned and stared directly at Queen Denize. She quickly turned and regally walked from the chamber.

David watched as the Queen left, he was furious at the manner in which the Prince had treated his queen mother, it was inexcusable. He fought the milling crowds to head for her private chambers to console her but was blocked by the massive body of Lord Smythwaite. The obese man quickly nodded behind him at a repugnant little man then pushed past David to leave the chamber. As the little rat faced man passed him, he muttered,” the Lord’s chambers in one hour. Make certain no one sees you.”

David felt unclean as the man slithered around him, forgetting his thoughts of reaching the Queen. He did not like Lord Smythwaite, but he was the most powerful Lord in the kingdom, after the royal family, and he had the power to sway the Royal Council in his direction. This may be an opportunity to advance his status among the greater lords.

One hour later, he was sitting on a plush chair away from the single window in Lord Smythwaite’s private chamber. Smythwaite offered him a glass of wine, the jeweled wrings on his sausage like fingers clanking against the small crystal ewer.

“I have perchance not had the opportunity to meet with you socially,” the ponderous Lord stated. “Your father and I were very close. You might say we both fought hard to keep despotism from raising its ugly head in the kingdom. As his heir I think it only fitting that you are made aware of this and other secrets kept in the dark by several insidious and unsuspecting conspirators.”

David took a sip of the tasty wine. He did not know how far he could trust the man. “Thank you, Lord, for your insight and propitious words.”

“You are not aware of it, but my very close friend, your dear father, committed no treason to the realm, he was beheaded to keep the knowledge he held in his head from becoming public.”

“What kind of knowledge?” David slowly asked. This was something he had not heard before.

“I have been advised that you are growing closer to the Queen,” Smythwaite smoothly continued, “and, I am certain you would not want anything to happen to her.”

David nodded his head. Where is this leading, he thought.

“It has come to my attention, and can be easily verified, that our dear Queen is not the villain behind the death of your father, nor is she the one who wants to make a secret deal with Emperor John. That person, well hidden in the shadows, is none other than, Prince Robert. He is also the one who ordered your father beheaded, I have those incriminating documents in a safe place.” Smythwaite halted to take a sip of wine and gauge David’s reaction.

“But why?” David blurted. “He would never go against his own mother.”

Lord Smythwite raised an eyebrow. “As he recently did during the assembly?” he asked.

David was puzzled. He had witnessed the Prince’s open defiance and the hurt look on the Queen’s beautiful face as she left the hall. “You did not stand with the Queen when the Prince defied her?” he stated.

“I am playing a dangerous game within a game. The Queen was under extreme duress,” Lord Smythwaite stated. “She has been threatened by those waiting behind Prince Robert to do as he bids. They forced her to sue for peace with Emperor John. She does not want that. Robert is playing a deadly game, while he and his cronies make a secret deal with John, he falsely proclaims his desire to fight on. It is a masterful move.”

“What is to be gained by the deception?” David asked.

“I see you have not been tainted with royal politics,” Lord Smythwaite smiled. “Robert wants the throne now, not months from now and he is willing to sacrifice his mother to obtain it. He has the support of our dear Cardinal Vicarius with promises of more power given to the church. We cannot allow that to happen, can we?”

“Who are these other secret conspirators?” David demanded.

“Let us not get flustered,” Smythwaite patted his hand. “To bring them into the open now without specific and undeniable proof, would only work to their advantage. One of them you know well but he is very closely protected by the Prince.”

David stared at Smythwaite, wanting more.

“Smythwaite knew then that he now had complete control over the gullible boy and he did not even have to present the false documents he had prepared. “You have witnessed how the Prince fawns over that Schermon Boy, what’s his name? Oh yes, Pieter, Pieter Schermon. The Prince has promised to reward him with your own estates, the Province of Donedon.”

David was shocked, but he had also seen the outlandish displays of favoritism between Pieter and Prince Robert. How could he be so terribly naïve.

“I am your man,” David stated, emptying his wine glass with one gulp and reaching for more.

“You do understand that neither the Queen nor Schermon must learn of this,” Smythwaite smugly replied. “The Queen will protect Prince Robert even at the cost of her own life, and Schermon must be the scapegoat behind our plans.”

OOO

Emperor John stood on the highest tower in the royal keep. Beneath him, spread out across the rolling ocean waves was a vast armada of ships. They were Nordlunder long ships, at least three hundred of them and each carrying two hundred or more fierce warriors.

“They can’t possibly take the city, your Excellency, the Lord Admiral standing next to him stated. “We have almost as many fighting ships of our own and the city walls are impregnable. The six war birds and Valkyri riders that your Princess daughter left behind could also be used to drop firebombs on them.”

“They are not here to take the city,” Emperor John replied. “That ship moving out ahead of the armada is flying the white flag of truce and the dragon banner of King RangarThoragson. They want to talk.”

They slowly made their way down the steep stairs and over to the castle wall overlooking the mighty ocean. The men-at-arms crowded the outer battlements but made way when the Emperor and his entourage arrived. The leading long ship slowly pulled to within hailing distance and a large figure on the bow of the ship waved at the Emperor.

“To what do we owe this unexpected visit, Rangar?” Emperor John yelled. “Lost your way back home, have you?”

“I come to offer terms,” Rangar yelled back. He was a tall and very powerful man with long wheat colored hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His wife, Queen Faria, stood by his side. She was also crowned with golden hair and fully dressed for battle. The Nordlund women often fought alongside their men.

“What terms?” Emperor John returned. “I did not know we were at war?”

Rangar yelled back. “I come on behalf of my cousin, Ryykon Thoragild! I have learned that your Army is besieging the walls of Lorainne, the home of Ryykon. I have an offer to make you, may we land and speak in private?”

“I guarantee your safety,” Emperor John replied. “Land at the southern quay and we will have our discussion.”




Ryykon glanced over the heaving bow of the great long ship. The long trip down the great river to the inner sea reminded him of how much he disliked the ocean. His cousin, Rangar, often laughed at his seasickness and told him he would never make a good seaman. “Why do you think I joined George in Camalund,” he oft replied. “Not all Nordlunders were meant to sail the oceans or seas, some of us prefer the mountains and hills.”

He had finally persuaded Rangar to intervene in the war on his behalf. He did not ask that Nordlund actually go to war against Angalund, only that they provide a show of force and insinuate that war might be a possibility. It was a simple ploy, but he figured there was a slight chance that Emperor John might fall for it. The only concession he made was that Alataria also be included in the negotiations, he owed it to Lord Haupt to try to secure the freedom of his countrymen. He added that he might be able to persuade the Royal Council in Camalund to aid Emperor John with his claims on disputed Tyberian territory on the southern Angalund border.

His small fleet of two hundred long ships landed on the coast well north of Lorainne, the only place where the forest actually met the great inland sea. Everything south and west for miles was nothing but towering cliffs, impossible to make a landing. He glanced back at his friend and companion as he pulled himself from the boat and splashed into the rock strewn water. Caltrop had stood with him for many years, ever since Ryykon had beaten him in a bout of arms, something which Caltrop said no man could do. He noticed that the water never bothered his friend and his secret belief that the man was an old pirate was reinforced. He certainly looked like one.

The smaller long ships carried only fifty men each so he had a mere ten thousand to help him in his quest. His plans were to make the ten thousand appear to be fifty thousand so when the report got back to Angalund, it would imply a much larger army. He had pulled the same trick before against a rival of King Robert’s, turning one hundred knights into a thousand. He knew it was all in the eye of the beholder, and scared men tended to exaggerate the enemy numbers facing them.

They traveled down river and along the coast of the great sea separated into five groups in case enemy scouts found them. The scouts may report a small force moving down, but when the reports were combined with other scout sightings, the moving force would grow and natural exaggeration would soon take effect. Ryykon also hoped to meet with Lord Clynton under a flag of truce and advise him that he had a hundred thousand Nordlund warriors at his disposal. If nothing else, it would plant a seed of doubt and concern in the man’s tactical mind.

Late in the day as they came over the thickly forested ridge of a small hill they sighted the massive castle in the distance. It was completely surrounded by enemy encampments and it looked as if the stubborn Tyberians were building some odd contraption several hundred yards from the main walls. They were noted for their siege towers and strange engines of war, but no siege tower could be made tall enough to reach the hundred foot walls of the great castle without collapsing in on itself. Tyberian engineers were good, but not that good.

He ordered his men to build small campfires so the enemy below could see them. In between each fire, he ordered two more to be built to exaggerate the number of his men. They settled in for the night.



Analia and the squadrons made good time all the way back from Havenhall. The Angalund engineers had devised a better way for the Khelti, Sidhe, and Aelfen to travel. They built secure wicker baskets attached to special harnesses strapped to the powerful dragons. The baskets hung just below the dragon’s stomach so as not to interfere with the mighty wings. It was a much more comfortable way to travel, more so than riding on an open saddle.

“The Dragon Riders spotted your uncle and a large band of rugged men on the hills overlooking Lorainne Castle,” Whiff mind-spoke. “I don’t know if it is safe to land there, the rough men with your uncle may panic when they see us. Also, the Castle is surrounded by ballista and scorpions.”

“Uncle Ryykon is back! Something is in the making. Where is Talina and the rest of the Riders?” Analia asked.

“They are grouped in the field where you made friends of the war birds and dragons, Little Lady,” Whiff replied.

“We’ll land there,” Analia stated, “our passengers are tired and hungry, so am I.”

“I could eat a whole field of cabbage,” Whiff returned, “me, myself, and I.”

They were met at the field by a small half squadron of Valkyri returning from patrol. They led them into the landing field and jumped from their war birds to race over to the returning group. Talina and the Riders on the ground also raced out into the field.

“Welcome back,” Talina shouted. “I knew Elise would find you. She saw Sean climbing out of one of the baskets and quickly ran over and hugged him.” A thousand and one questions came from the Riders on the field and the large group of Khelti, and it appeared that the entire Khelti Army was in the clearing or standing in the wood line. She could also see hundreds if not thousands of city people.

“They came back,” Talina stated, seeing the puzzlement on Analia’s face. “As soon as word spread of Ryykon heading down river with a force of Nordlund warriors, they came back to fight. The civilians are all from the city, they came to us for food and shelter.”

“I see my countrymen too,” Ruolf shouted. “I knew they would never abandon you, my Princess.”

“We’ll answer your questions as soon as we have broken our fast and had something to drink,” Analia stated walking towards the wood line. “We have a lot to tell you.”

“I know of a feast waiting for me,” Whiff mind-spoke, “if the other dragons haven’t found it yet. See you later, Little Lady.” He took off with a mighty beat of his massive wings.

That evening, around a warm fire and among friends, each of those who had journeyed to Havenhall told their stories. It was the stuff that legends were made of, and in the far distant future, that is exactly what it would become. Time would change the details, more would be added, but the people of the kingdoms would all sit around their campfires, or hearths, or in their straw and mud homes, and talk of the events of the past days and weeks.

During a lull in the conversation, of which there were few, they heard a loud booming in the distance, followed by several more. The nighttime sky was clear with millions of twinkling stars, so they could not figure what could have made such a loud sound.



Well before dawn the next morning the Sidhe and Khelti left to march to the battlefront. They were determined to fulfill their oaths to help the people of Camalund, no matter the final consequences. They were followed by a vast rabble of city and country folk carrying pitchforks, hoes, sharp scythes, and even hammers and rocks, who was just as determined to fight for their homes. The Dragon Riders and Valkyri mounted up and formed their squadrons in the sky. They were sworn to protect their realms, and they were just as determined as the others.

Prince Robert and his staff walked to the battlements and gazed out on the massive armies arranged beneath the castle, preparing for the final assault. They had received a message during the night, dropped by a Dragon Rider, that Ser Thoragild and the Nordlunders were on the northern ridge line, and when they glanced in that direction, they saw them. On the eastern ridge line in the distance, they saw the small Sidhe Army and the Khelti massed along with thousands of serfs and peasants. In the skies, squadrons of Dragon Riders and Valkyri War Birds glided around in lazy circles.

“Prepare to signal the knights to leave the castle,” Prince Robert told an aide. “We will ride out and fight like men of honor, not hide behind these walls like frightened children. If our countrymen and allies can do it, so will we.” He knew the odds were overwhelmingly in favor of the enemy forces, but that did not frighten him. The very existence of kingdom was at stake.

Suddenly, a loud booming noise shattered the air and part of the great castle walls went tumbling down. A few moments later, another boom and more of the ancient wall crumbled. The allied forces glanced in wonder as the Tyberians poured what looked like ashes into a long metal pipe, threw in a great rock rounded by chisel, and set fire to some ash on top. The tube spat forth flame and smoke and the rock sailed upward and smashed into the castle walls, much more powerful than a catapult or trebuchet. It was surely black magic made by an evil necromancer.

“We must stop them,” Analia yelled across the distance to her squadron of Riders. They are destroying the castle walls. She glanced down to make a decision and noticed scores of scorpions surrounding the area of the tubes, manned and ready to fire their deadly shafts. To attack such a deadly target would result in the same thing that had happened at the battle of the crossroads, disaster.

Her mind made up, Analia screamed at the riders around her. “What are you waiting for, do you want to live forever!”

She and Whiff made a steep dive, heading straight for the Tyberian smoke pipes.