Steel and Shadow: An Epic Fantasy (14 page)

             
His men burst into the room even as he shouted, and stood around him where he lay writhing on the floor alone. 

             
“My lord,” one of his new sentries exclaimed, reaching to help him to his feet.  “What happened?  What….?”

             
George shook him off, and rushed to the lamp he had lit, lifting the wick to increase the flame.  “Did you not see?  Did you not feel it?”

             
“Feel…..what, sire,” the sentry frowned at him.

             
“Never mind,” he spat.  “Go.  Just….go,” he waved, keeping the lamp close to him.

             
The door closed, and to his shock, the flame began to burn black.  Pure, shimmering black, though it put out an eerie light of its own.

             
“You have one week to yield, and call back your forces,” the disembodied voice spoke out of the shadows in the room.  “If you have not obeyed the terms of the new treaty by then, then by the eighth day, you shall breathe your last, and Galdyn falls with you.”

             
George shuttered, staring at the black flame that fluttered, then returned to normal before his eyes.

             
“I…..I yield,” he whimpered, feeling very much as he did as a child, when his father locked him in the wardrobe to ‘cure’ his fear of the dark.  “I yield,” he whimpered again.

             
There was no reply.

X

             
“You’re back,” Lia smiled as he walked into camp just before dawn.

             
“’Twas a swifter journey this time,” he allowed as he paused to bow to her.

             
“Koa!  You need not…..”

             
He bowed again when Helena, now groomed and refreshed, looking much more like a true queen, stepped out of the king’s tent with her son.

             
“You were gone overly long for delivering a mere message,” Jengus remarked as he appeared behind Eric.

             
Koa gave the faintest of smiles as he stated, “I thought I would….press home a few points for Lord Ericson.  So far, ’twould seem Hastings has gotten the message this time.  He was shouting orders to recall his legions even as I departed, and I believe he will now yield the whole of Kanlys to whomever desires it.”

             
“Played with him a bit, did you, Koa,” Jengus chuckled knowingly.

             
Koa only gave a faint shrug.  “He is not an overly brave man when lost in the dark,” he drawled.  “Unlike a certain lady who glows like a star even in the deepest night,” he said, smiling at Helena as he nodded respectfully to her.

             
“You flatter me,” she smiled. 

             
“Koa isn’t given over to flattery,” Jengus remarked mildly.  “So I daresay he is speaking a deeper truth than you realize, Lady Ericson.”

             
“Aye,” Lia smiled, and looked up at him as she stood close to his side.

             
“Do you think he will truly yield.”

             
“I believe he shall, Lord Ericson,” he agreed.  “For his sons’ sake, if naught else.”

             
“Aye.  That I could believe,” Eric nodded somberly. 

             
“How do we proceed, then,” Jengus asked him as he looked to the king.

             
Eric eyed him, glanced at Koa, then smiled.  “We march on Kanlys, and Kanlys Square.  In full armor, with banners flying.  ’Tis time to let them know we have routed their craven king.  We shall see what comes of the king’s surrender then.”

             
“We shall be ready at your command,” Jengus nodded at him.

             
“We march in one hour,” he told him as Jengus nodded again, saluted, and turned away, Koa turning to follow.

             
“Koa,” Lia called.

             
“Duty calls, lady,” he told her solemnly.  “Mayhap we shall speak again later.  Still, I trust you now realize I have kept my vow.  You are safe, and with your own again,  as I so swore.”

             
She stared after him as he walked away, and Helena put a free arm around her daughter, sighing, “Oh, daughter,” she said knowingly.  “You choose a hard path.”

             
“Nay, mother.  I have followed the hard path until now.”

             
“Mother,” Eric frowned, not following their words.

             
“Can’t you see, son?  Amalia has fallen in love with our champion.  I daresay she shall ever be judging all men by his standard henceforth.”

             
Eric eyed her as he frowned slightly.

             
“Do not dare name him unnatural,” Lia huffed, catching his stare.

             
“Nay.  Nay.  I was just thinking.  ’Tis possible that our Kanlysan friend might just be the very solution to a problem I have already been considering after I decided to take Kanlys.”

             
“What do you mean, Eric,” Helena asked her son.

             
He only smiled.  “Let us reach Kanlys Square, and ascertain a few truths first, mother.  Then I shall tell you if my idea has any hope of working.”

             
“He’s a good man,” Lia told him quietly.  “Better than many I have met.”

             
“I’ll not argue,” Eric told her.  Then turned to start barking commands of his own at his men.

             
Even as he did, he couldn’t help but note the Xandaran mercenaries were still up, mounted, and ready to ride in half the time of his own.

             
It was…..thought-provoking.

             
Lord James Mallory, earl of Malloric, and king’s champion in Kanlys, stared at the Valdorans that poured into the city gates.

             
The old governor had already fled after news of their march reached the provincial capital soon after the king’s legions withdrew, leaving the province to its fate.  More than a few noble families had fled with them.  Some, like himself, stayed behind.  Some were bound to their lands here, and would be naught but refugees if they fled.

             
Better, he felt, to stay and cope with the invaders than have to face a life of poverty. 

             
Still, it was bad enough to have heard not two days ago that Galdyn had faltered yet again, and their king had retreated into cowardly hiding.  Even now, the earl knew his very life, fame, and fortune were going to be resting in Valdoran hands.  That this time, the whole of Kanlys was forfeit.  Mayhap even his own lands and holdings if he could not manage to play the Valdoran’s game properly. 

             
Powerful as he was, even he couldn’t hope to deny the powerful legions pouring into the city.  The king of Valdor himself rode at the head of that impressive band, and the mercenary band wasted little time in declaring martial law, seizing the city garrison, and replacing the usual city watch with their own men. 

             
The Valdorans surrounded the city walls, as well as filling them, and a strong core remained to guard their monarch as not only the queen and princess of that land of warriors joined Ericson, proving the rumors they were lost were not true, but also the queen and princes of Galdyn itself were revealed to have been in that gilded carriage surrounded by cold-eyed men.

             
None realized the queen and princes were only recently allowed to dress themselves suitably again, awaiting the arrival of the king of Galdyn to finalize the formal surrender to Valdor.  None noticed the quiet, miserable slave girl that followed the Valdoran princess with a pretty blonde that was near her twin walking with her. 

             
All eyes were on the nobility.  None others.

             
James walked out to greet the king, and the other royals, bowing low, and employing his best flattering speech as he declared, “Welcome, Lord Ericson.  I trust you know I will do my very best to serve you, as I have ever chosen to serve my land and people first and foremost under Hastings before you.”

             
“Cleverly said,” Queen Helena drawled quietly as she eyed the man she recalled from a meeting years ago.  “Yet I recall you once said Valdorans were good for naught more than labor, or food for your hounds.”

             
He frowned.  “Lady….?”

             
“Mayhap I should be naked, and collared for you to better remember me,” she spat at him venomously now.  “For I recall ’twas your men that sold me to your odious king.”

             
James gaped as he looked at the very unfriendly eyes. 

             
“Then, mother, mayhap he would know the man that actually stole us from Valdor, and slew father, and my siblings,” Lia asked, not adding that he would be the one that had raped her, too.

             
“You…..?  You are…..that woman,” he exclaimed, staring at her in genuine apprehension.

             
“A name, sir,” Eric declared.  “What man stole my mother and sister out of Valdor?  What man sold them like common stock?”

             
James swallowed hard.  “I…..I believe…..  You must mean Fredrick Simms.  A local huntsman and slaver of some….repute.  But I did not realize you were actually the…..”

             
“Oh, nay,” Helena agreed.  “Else you would have exploited me yourself, rather than sell me as a bauble to your king.”

             
“It hardly matters,” Eric drawled, and turned to one of his men.  “Find this Simms.  And lock them both in a cage until I am ready to see them.”

             
“My lord!” James wailed as men instantly seized him, dragging him away without hesitation. 

             
Eric walked into the palatial townhouse left by the governor without looking back as he led his personal guard, family, and captives into the hall.

             
Eyeing William, he drawled, “So long as you behave until your sire arrives, you shall be well treated, Prince William.  Sir Jengus suggests he knows how to bridle you, though, do you think to cause trouble.  Bear that in mind do you think to start mischief here.”

             
William actually blushed as he grimaced, having been free of Simon since he had been turned over to the Valdoran, and having no wish to be returned, or exposed as a sodomite’s toy among the enemy who had so easily bested his father.

             
“And my mother, and sister,” he asked quietly as his usually boisterous brothers said nothing, unusually cowed after weeks of being forced to labor like common freeman, or more accurately, slaves.  After weeks of being chained like dogs, and facing abuses that still shamed William.  He could well understand their quietness.

             
Eric looked back at the still slave-clad princess, and drawled, “Your mother shall be freed in due time.  As my friend and ally said, however, the lass is in Sir Koa’s hands, so I can hardly give a reply concerning a slave that I do not own,” he said, making a decision at that moment to bind the formerly proud lass to that mercenary, just as his commander had likely intended.  As his sister was once forced to serve and suffer, so she would be forced to serve and suffer.
             

             
He felt it only just.
             

             
Still, she was not likely to suffer half so much as Lia considering Koa’s nature, but still, her pride was dying, and he could see it in her miserable, downcast gaze.  Her future was lost, and she well knew it.  It satisfied him on a visceral level to know here was one Hastings that would not escape despite the truce.

             
What he had not known was that Jengus Sanz, suspecting the son was much like the sire, had already spoke to William just that morning before they marched into the city.  He warned him sternly that did he ever think to follow his sire’s example, that Koa would come for him, and deliver him into Simon’s hands for the rest of his natural life.  And that this time, there would be no respite.

             
William, having seen that confrontation with the two shadows that night several weeks ago, and knew all too well that the mercenary was far more than what he had first appeared, did not argue.  Not that he didn’t already guess the truth when he went to sleep in the governor’s townhouse one night, and woke in bondage the next morning.