A Gathering of Armies Read online

  “But if the church denounces him …” Enton began.

  Aaron’s smile grew even bigger. “They won’t. A few nights back we launched a surprise raid on the temple.”

  Gasps answered Aaron’s announcement.

  “A raid on the temple?” Heather repeated. “But surely that will drive the people to the church’s side?”

  “No,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “You see, it was a secret raid conducted in the dark of the night. The archbishops remain in the temple, but they all have a new guard. If any of the archbishops step out of line, then their new guard will kill them quick.”

  Heather swallowed the lump in her throat, unsure how she felt about the king attacking the temple. “And the high priest?” she asked.

  “He is now a guest of the king,” Aaron said. “The commoners believe that he came to the palace to ask for the king’s protection.” Aaron shrugged. “It’s as good a story as any other. Some will suspect the truth, but not enough to do anything about it.”

  There was a brief silence as they contemplated Aaron’s news. The silence was finally broken by Mikela. “Where are Dagan and the others?”

  “Follow me,” Aaron said as he turned and led them toward the blank wall where this hallway appeared to dead-end. “We’ve been given rooms close to the king’s. The king has been having meetings with them. He seems to think war is coming here.”

  Aaron stopped talking long enough to push down on a lever that protruded from the blank wall. Heather hadn’t noticed it before.

  As the lever was depressed, there came a deep clunking sound from within the wall and a door-sized portion of the wall slid open into the hallway beyond. It was dark beyond – the too few torches spread along the wall merely creating pockets of light in the gloom. The hallway was completely empty.

  Aaron led them through the hallways of the castle. It was nighttime and the hallways were not overly crowded. There were still plenty of people to notice the strange procession. The servants and guards had become accustomed to seeing Aaron, Dagan, and the rest wandering the halls over the last several days. The king had pardoned them of any previous crimes, still, mouths fell open and eyes widened at the sight of Aaron leading another group of the former outlaws. Aaron seemed to pay them no heed and the servants hurried to get out of their way.

  Question after question raced through Heather’s mind but she resisted the urge to ask them in the hallways. The last thing she wanted was for a gossipy servant or guard to start rumors. Although she doubted if rumors could be any worse than the truth.

  Heather had stood guard in the castle as part of her Guardian training, and she quickly recognized where Aaron was leading them – toward the King’s apartments.

  The royal family had a section of the castle all to themselves – well, all to themselves and a myriad of servants and guards. Heather had never stood guard over any of the royal apartments, but she recognized the area of the castle. Her stomach tightened up at the thought of meeting the king. She had met him before – once, he had even pinned an award on her – but that had been a long time ago. It felt like an eternity had passed since then, although, in truth, it had only been a couple of years.

  They rounded a corner and stopped dead. Ten or so guards were spread across the hall, blocking the way forward – the guards seemed just as surprised to see them.

  “Halt!” the foremost guard called.

  The word had the effect of pulling Aaron up short. Of all the Guardians, he alone had seemed unsurprised to see the guards. He did look a bit surprised when they shouted.

  Aaron placed his hands on his hips and scowled at the guard. “Yes?” he asked calmly.

  “Sir, I didn’t mean you,” the guard said quickly. “I was referring to them.” He pointed at Heather and her group behind Aaron.

  “They are with me. We’re going to visit the king.”

  The guard looked dumbstruck.

  “The king did give you orders not to interfere with me, didn’t he?” Aaron asked.

  “Yes,” the guard agreed, “but he never mentioned any others.”

  Aaron took a deep breath. “Fine. Send a guard along to get permission and then you can escort me and my friends.”

  The guard looked less than pleased with this solution, but he acquiesced. He nodded his head at a young man standing just to his left. The man, who was actually barely more than a boy, was obviously a messenger and he promptly sprinted down the hall. The rest of the guards fell in around Aaron and the Guardians.

  In truth, Heather had to admit she didn’t like this arrangement. It had the feeling of being a prisoner. She forced herself to breath slowly and keep her hand away from her sword hilt.

  They moved slowly down the hallway, Aaron and the lead guard walking in front. They had only gone a short distance when the messenger reappeared, but this time he wasn’t alone. Atock walked beside him, smiling jubilantly at them.

  Atock was another Guardian. He was a warrior with skin as dark as night. His father was the king of the island nation of Entucca, and their treaty with Telur required a prince of the realm to train as a Guardian.

  Atock’s eyes swept over them and stopped on Trestus. His brow furrowed in confusion, but he still looked pleased. “Trestus?” he asked, hesitantly. “You were not part of this group. Where are Derek and the rest?”

  Trestus opened his mouth to answer but Heather spoke up first. “Hold a moment. The rest will want to hear that story as well, might as well wait and only tell it once.”

  Atock looked from Trestus to Heather and shrugged. “As you wish.”

  “Where are Dagan and the others?” Heather asked.

  Atock turned and headed back the way he had come. He motioned for them to follow.

  They followed the hallway for a ways, until Atock turned at the first opening to the right. It was not another hallway as Heather had first suspected, but an alcove, rather like an open waiting room. At the far end of the alcove was a closed, wooden door.

  Atock didn’t even slow, but instead turned his steps toward the door. For once, the door was unguarded, but that wasn’t all that surprising. Guards on the door were unnecessary because of the large number of guards at the entrance to the royal apartments.

  Atock didn’t even knock, instead he just pushed the door open, revealing a large room beyond.

  Following Atock into the room, Heather stopped and glanced around. The room was large and comfortable. Unlit fireplaces sat on either side of the room and almost every available wall was covered with bookshelves. The floor was hidden by several thick rugs and four couches were pulled up around a long, low table. Several cushioned chairs were also pulled in close to the table. The table was covered in papers and maps. The room was brilliantly lit as several balls of light hung suspended in the air above the table.

  Heather observed the room in a glance, but it was the people that rose as they entered that caught her attention.

  King Darion had been sitting in one of the few chairs near the table and he looked exhausted as he rose. Nevertheless, he still smiled a fatherly smile in their direction.

  Cassandra and Agminion sat side by side on one of the couches and they too smiled at the newcomers.

  Cassandra had previously been King Darion’s magician until she had fled with Dagan after Flare had stolen Ossendar. It was rumored that she was quite old, but she still looked like a beautiful and young woman.

  Heather looked at her again. She doesn’t look so young anymore, Heather thought. The strain and the exhaustion is catching up with all of us.

  Agminion was a middle-aged sorcerer and reasonably friendly. He had helped Heather’s group escape from the dungeons of Eled Aminor, albeit on his king’s orders.

  Two men sat on a couch with their backs to the door – they turned to regard the newcomers but remained seated.

  Heather recognized the man on the right as Jared, the King’s spymaster. She had met him once, maybe twice, before. He had seemed pleasant, almost grandfatherly before
. He looked old now, but perhaps it was just the stress and concern wearing on him.

  Heather was fairly certain that she had never met the other man before. He had the look of royalty – not someone that was easily forgotten. He looked to be tall and muscular, and he had the dark complexion of one who spends a good deal of time in the sun. His full, black hair was streaked through with gray and it looked most distinguished. He looked angry and acknowledged Heather and her group by grimacing at them. His apparent hostility detracted from his regal appearance.

  Dagan, the aged sorcerer, rose slowly from a chair on the opposite end of the table from the king. Of all those in the room, he alone wore a scowl. “Took you long enough to get here,” he said in his normal grumpy voice. “Did Flare get the shield?” he demanded.

  Heather felt her smile slip away. She’d forgotten how ornery the old goat was. She ignored his question and asked one of her own. “Where’s Warren and Holgar?” she asked.

  Dagan’s scowl deepened at being ignored and King Darion hid a smile as he returned to his seat.

  “Holgar’s in his room,” Agminion said quickly. “He doesn’t seem to feel any need to help plan the defense of Telur.”

  “And Warren?”

  Cassandra smiled. “He’s exploring the city. He cannot seem to grasp the enormity of it.”

  That makes sense, Heather thought. Warren was a Fae – an ancient race that had been believed extinct. He had lived his whole life in the Faerum wastelands and never seen a thriving city like Telur before. It must have been overwhelming for him.

  At that moment Dagan seemed to realize that Trestus was with them. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought you’d be searching for Nerandall in the ruins of Saprasia.”

  Trestus opened his mouth to speak, but paused as Heather moved around and sat down on one of the couches. She paused and bowed her head in the king’s direction. “May we sit? The story is not quick.”

  The king nodded and, as if on cue, the rest moved to the couches and chairs, all except Atock. He seemed content to lean against one of the unlit fireplaces.

  “Lord Maltin, it’s good to see you again,” Heather said, smiling at Jared. He smiled tiredly in return. She then glanced to the man who sat on the couch beside Jared. “I don’t believe we’ve met before,” she said, prompting.

  Before the man could answer, King Darion spoke. “Forgive me, this is Lord Cedric of House Steel.”

  Heather blinked in surprise and then bowed her head. “It is my pleasure to meet you Lord Steel.” She had heard of Cedric, but never met him. He led one of the four great houses of Telur – they were just below the king in power and influence. House Steel controlled the lands from the capital city to the southern border.

  Cedric nodded his head and actually smiled for the first time. “Likewise. I just wish the circumstances could have been better.”

  “Yes,” Dagan agreed, “don’t we all.” He motioned for Trestus to begin.

  With every eye in the room on him, Trestus began his story. He began with their leaving Telur in search of Ossendar. Heather’s group had heard the story, but it was new to everyone else. There were gasps at his description of the torture rooms of Dalh-Rucka. He described their meeting with the wildlings and their trip north to search for the shield called Ocklamoor. Dagan went even whiter than normal at hearing that Zalustus could summon demons and that Zalustus now had Ocklamoor. When he was done, silence descended on the room for several long moments.

  “So Zalustus has the helmet and the shield, and Flare has the sword and the armor,” Dagan said quietly. “They’re evenly matched as far as the prophecy goes.”

  “What does that mean?” Darion asked.

  “It means that neither man has an advantage. And if I remember Kelcer correctly, it says the order will be restored before the shining city.”

  “Shining city?” Darion repeated, “meaning Telur.”

  “I believe so,” Dagan said.

  “Zalustus believes so as well,” Heather said. “He told Flare as much and said they would meet in battle here, before the end of the summer.”

  “The end of the summer!” Darion exclaimed. “Are you sure?”

  “That seems highly unlikely,” Dagan said in a calm voice. “Supplies for such a large army would take months to be brought north.”

  Heather shrugged. “Zalustus said by the end of the summer. He told Flare that the armies were already on the move.”

  “But it’s foolish to rush like that,” Agminion said. “Unless the city falls quickly, your own troops would be starving.”

  “Not necessarily,” Atock said from his perch near the fireplace. He looked thoughtful and didn’t notice as every eye swung toward him. “Those armies will be marching through some of the richest farmlands, and just at harvest time. They don’t need to bring supplies with them. They can eat the crops of Telur’s own farmers.”

  The words hung in the silence for the briefest of moments before everyone began speaking at once. There were multiple conversations going on at the same time and none of them could be understood.

  “Quiet!” Dagan bellowed and, for a wonder, the room fell silent. Every eye turned to the old sorcerer and he bowed his head in the king’s direction. “My apologies, Majesty. My shouting was for their benefit, not yours.”

  The king nodded his head – barely.

  Dagan turned his attention to the rest of the room. “Panicking will not help. We must remain calm.” He studied the worried faces. “Suggestions?”

  There was a long moment of silence – it seemed to stretch out. Finally, Trestus spoke – “Get the women and children out of the city, and they need to be sent at least a week’s travel away from Telur.” He paused, his gaze distant as he thought. “Recall all the soldiers.” He looked to King Darion. “Summon every bondsman and noble from border to border.”

  “That’s a start,” Heather said, “but more still needs to be done.”

  “Yes,” Enton agreed. “How are the city’s supplies? Is there enough food and weapons for a long siege?”

  “Plenty of weapons,” King Darion answered. “The city is stocked, as are the noble houses.”

  “And food?” Enton prompted.

  King Darion looked slightly uncomfortable. “The stores have been increased, but there’s not enough for a long siege. More will need to be gathered.”

  “Harvest the crops,” Atock said quietly but forcefully. “Harvest every crop that’s ready.”

  “And the others?” Cedric asked, looking puzzled.

  “Burn them,” Atock answered, and Cedric went white, his eyes widening. “Leave nothing for the enemy. Burn every crop and orchard. Bring the herds within the walls or drive them several weeks travel away from the city. Leave the enemy to starve.” The words were met with shocked looks, but Atock only shrugged. “If we leave the crops then our enemy will eat them while they try and starve us out. It’s the only thing we can do.”

  After a few moments, the others began to slowly nod, all except Cedric. “That’s preposterous!” he cried, when he found his voice. “The majority of those crops and herds belong to House Steel.” He turned his worried look from Atock to King Darion. “My king, if this order is given then it will beggar my house. The other houses will charge exorbitant amounts of gold for me to feed my people.”

  King Darion held up a hand for silence and Cedric quieted, although he looked less than pleased about it. “I will not allow the other houses to take advantage of the situation,” he said. “You have my word on that. The times are not normal and it requires sacrifice on everyone’s part. Follow my orders and the other houses will be required to assist you.”

  Cedric remained silent, but he continued to look worried.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning was clear and promised to be a hot day. Atock watched the sun rise from the window in the chambers he had been given near the king’s own quarters. From here, the city looked peaceful and at rest. He knew that would change when t
he city was fully awake. In fact, it was probably already changing. Messengers had been dispatched before he had gone to bed. Within days, the king’s bondmen and soldiers would begin flooding into the city. Before the first fighter arrived, the women and children would be forced to leave.

  Atock sighed deeply. It was a dangerous trip for the weakest of Telur’s citizens. The older children and the women in good health should have no problem with the trip – it was the rest he worried about. The young, old, and the unwell would suffer the most. It was even possible that a good number of them would not survive the journey. He took a deep breath. He knew that sending the women and children away was to protect them, but he also knew it might kill some of those they were trying to protect.

  Pushing the troubling thoughts away, Atock looked back out over the city and let his thoughts wander.

  It was strange. Only weeks ago, he had been one of the most sought-after fugitives in the kingdom. Now, he slept in a room only yards from where the king slept, and he had been given a place of honor and even the king listened to his advice. Atock shook his head at the strangeness of it all. Sometimes it felt like the gods were just playing with him. It was like the gods enjoyed blindfolding him, spinning him around until he was dizzy, and then kicking him in the arse to see in which direction he would stumble.

  He yawned in a wide, jaw-cracking manner and turned away from the window. His eyes hurt and he knew the day was going to seem to last forever. He had laid down for several hours but sleep had eluded him – worries and stress keeping him awake.

  He dressed quickly and stepped into the hallway. The royal apartments no longer had a guard on every door, but instead the guards were posted at the entrance to this section of the castle.