The Black Sword Trilogy: The Four Nations (3 page)

             
He took a deep breath, and then his gaze fell on Krall.

“General Krall,” He said in his
familiar icy tone.  “I seem to remember telling my messenger that you were to return to Kallesh immediately upon receipt of my message.  Why are you here two days later?  And why do you stand in front of your King looking so ragged?”

“I’m sorry Your Majest
y,” Krall answered calmly.  “But I had a battle to fight.  I came like this so you would know that I did indeed lead your army to fight and win that battle.”

“You think it’s appropriate to appear before your King covered in blood and filth?”

“This filth is from the ground me and my men fought on for hours.  The blood is from enemy and ally alike.”

The King scoffed and sneered.

“That may explain your appearance, General.  But it doesn’t explain why you deliberately disobeyed my express command.” The King spat back at Krall, his voice slightly rising.

“I felt defending the land and people of this realm more important than a conversation with my King, no matter how important the subject.”

Melkur looked around and addressed the room.

“Do you see how my General a
ddresses his King?” He said.  “He seems to forget where he is and to whom he’s speaking.”

“I have forgotten nothing, Your Majesty,” Krall said, barely containing his anger, “nothing that I have seen in all my years serving you and your father.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Melkur said leaning forward.

“Only that I have seen much to help me in my judgment of to whom or what my true loyalty lies.” Krall replied, a low growl in his voice.

              He saw rage begin to fill the King’s eyes; but then, just as quickly be contained.  This was not the same person he had seen in the courtroom, Krall thought.  What was in that small bottle, he wondered?

             
The King then directed his gaze to the still new statue of his father, just to the right of the throne.

“I wonder w
hat my father would have done upon hearing such commentary.” He said in his smooth voice.  “I’m not entirely sure, but it almost sounded like an accusation; not unlike the accusations coming from the mouths of those traitors claiming misconduct in the prisons.”

“I’m not sure there’s any real evidence of misconduct, Your Majesty.” Krall said.  “After all, the witnesses in that enquiry seem to have a habit of being convicted of other crimes and then being executed.”

              The King rose from his throne and appeared ready to attack.  However, the doctor made a noise like clearing his throat.  The King shot an angry gaze at the doctor, but then sat down and regained his demeanor.

             
“I’m going to ignore that remark for now,” He told Krall.  “However, what I cannot ignore is you disobeying a command from your King and ignoring a royal summons.  I’m afraid I’ll have to punish you.”

“Shall I be thrown into the prison?”

The anger returned to Melkur’s eyes, when the doctor stepped forward, he restrained himself again.

             
“No, General,” He said in a strained voice.  “One doesn’t beat a puppy for pissing on the floor.”

The sound of being obviously compared to a dog made Krall feel like drawing his sword.

“Instead, I must be gentle.  I must show tolerance.  Your punishment will be that you will be taken to the officers’ quarters in the barracks and placed under house arrest for the next two days.  After that, you may return to your troops and continue winning this war.  That will be all.”

The King then waved his hand dismissively. 
Although it felt like he was trying to bend a Blackwood tree, Krall forced himself to bow before the King.  He turned to leave and began marching towards the doors.

             
“One more thing,” The King called after him. 

Krall stopped but did not turn.

“I seem to remember telling that young messenger that he was to bring you back immediately. ‘Upon pain of death’ I seem to recall telling him.”

Again, Krall felt like reaching for his sword.

“I shall have to make an example of him.  Captain Maitz!” The King called out to one of the guards.  “Go to the army’s encampment, find Loren, arrest him and bring him back here for execution.”

Krall turned and glared at the King.

“I can’t allow disobedience from a simple messenger.” The King said mockingly.

Krall turned and march
ed even faster out of the throne room.

              That night, as the White City slept, a hooded figure crept into the palace and through the halls dimly lit by torches.  The two large guards stood in front of the huge doors of the throne room, not noticing the figure coming towards them.  A glass jar appeared to fly out of nowhere and break just in front of their feet.  A thin cloud of white mist rose from the broken jar and as it drifted to the guards faces, they both collapsed onto the floor.

             
The doors were heavy, but the lone figure was able to crack one open just enough for him to enter the throne room.  He crept up to the Silver Axe, still in the exact position Kenner had left it.  With one hand, he reached down, drew the axe easily from the floor and then disappeared from the palace.

Chapter Five

A soft winter snow fell quietly on the small village hidden in the hills.  It was morning.  Some villagers were only just beginning their day gathering firewood, eating breakfast and some greeting each
other in the center of the village.  The school teacher rang her small bell announcing to the children that it was time for daily lessons.

             
Several dogs began barking towards the dense forest outside the circle of huts and small houses that made up the village and both men and women tried to quiet them.

“What’s wrong?” One villager asked of his hound.  “Do you smell something?”

              Suddenly men on horseback seemed to bolt out of the trees themselves.  Other men with axes, hammers, spears and other weapons ran behind them.  Women screamed and ran.  Some of the men of the village came with weapons of their own but they were cut down, killed or wounded.  The runners caught some of the women and wrestled them to the ground.  The horsemen encircled the children and cut them off from escape.  In this way, the raiders brought the village under their control.

             
The dead were left where they lay and the wounded and women were brought into the small circle with the children.  One of the riders came forward and addressed the people below him.

“I’ll make this very simple for you all.” He said grinning.  “Give us your food, your money, furs, wines and whatever else you may have that we may want and the rest of you may live.  If I’m feeling extra generous, I may only take two o
r three of your prettier girls for my men’s entertainment.”

The women were wailing and some of the men lunged forward, but were knocked to the ground.  The school teacher tried to attack with a knife, but she was also sent into the snow.

             
From out of the early morning fog, the leader heard heavy footsteps coming through the snow.  A tall man wearing a black hooded cloak approached.  From his belt, he pulled a black sword from his scabbard which rang like a bell.  He pulled his hood back, revealing angry green eyes.

“You picked the wrong village to raid.” He said in a voice like a growl.

              He thrust the sword toward the sky and it gave off a piercing, high pitched scream.  The horses all reared up, throwing their riders to the ground before running into the woods.  Arrows flew at the man with the sword, but all merely bounced off of his black armor.  At the sight of this, most of the raiders ran into the woods, but two charged the man with the sword.  In one smooth, quick motion, he sliced them both in half.  Another came up behind, but he too fell to his death.  Most of the rest of the raiders fled, but one called out to the warrior.

“Enough!” He yelled at him.

              Kenner turned slowly to face the leader of the raiding pack that had attacked his village.  The leader was holding the young school teacher close and in front of him with a dagger to her throat.  She was struggling to free herself, but he was too strong.

             
“You’ve fought well warrior,” The leader said to him with a smug smile.  “But I’m not leaving empty handed.  Not today.”

“Let her go.” Kenner growled.

“Oh no.  Not without my prize.”

“Did you not pay attention to what just happened to your friends?” Kenner answered behind gritted teeth.

“Take one more step and I’ll slit this lovely girl’s throat from ear to ear.” The raider said with a cruel smile.

             
Kenner smiled back at him.

“You haven’t thought this through have you?” He said smoothly.  “What do you think is going to happen if you so much as scratch her skin?”

“Give me what I want and I’ll go.”

“Let
her go and I might try to stop my friends from tearing you into pieces.”

“What?” The raider scoffed.  “These puny villagers; what are they going to do to me?”

“Not the villagers,” Kenner said still smiling.  He then pointed behind the raider.  “Them.”

             
The raider heard beastly growling sounds coming up behind him.  He slowly turned and to his horror saw three enormous cats creeping up behind him.  Two were the size of deer.  The third was huge; bigger than a war horse.  They were all solid black, except for the one with the white spot over its eye and their eyes were as yellow as fire.  They growled and hissed, crouching down as if to pounce.  He was starting to slowly back toward the woods, still clutching the feisty woman when an arrow appeared to come from almost nowhere.  It flew straight through his head and then bounced off a distant tree.  His body went limp and he fell into the snow.  And then the woman was finally able to wrestle herself away from his grasp.

             
She ran from the corpse and straight into Kenner’s arms.  He held her tightly and gently at the same time.

“It’s alright,” he told her.  “You’re going to be alright.”

              Kenner looked to from where the arrow had come and saw a familiar short, stocky figure with short, blonde hair step out of the woods.

“Typical,” Terri said with a smirk.  “I kill the bad guy and you get the pretty girl.”

Chapter Six

              The villagers collected the dead and began to build a funeral pyre for their fallen friends.  Although not the chieftain, Kenner ordered the bodies of the dead raiders to be hung from the trees outside the village as a warning to others.

             
It had been a warm reunion between Terri and Shela.  Shela pushed her to the ground, licked her face and purred so loud others could feel the vibrations in the ground.  The other two cats curiously eyed and sniffed at the newcomer, but remained cautious.  They made sure their mother was in between them and the stranger.

             
“Where did these two come from?” Terri asked, referring to the young cats.

“From her,” Kenner answ
ered, pointing at Shela.  “Evidently she has a boyfriend out there somewhere.”

“Obviously,” Terri laughed as Shela rubbed her giant head against her body.  “Great Lady, girl!  You act like you haven’t seen me in years.”

“Two years to be precise,” Kenner added.

“And what a two years it’s been.”

              Terri finally pulled herself off of the ground while the kittens cautiously came closer to her.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it.” Kenner pried.

Terri leaned back and Kenner heard her bones cracking.

“Aren’t you
a bit young to be popping like that?” He asked her.

“It’s been a hard life.”

              Terri followed Kenner to a small, wooden house on the far end of the village.  The cats followed and then all jumped over a fence and into an area just behind the house.

“I see
they know where home is.” Terri joked.

“Yes, they’re very well behaved.”

“Are they hard to care for?”

“Not at all.  Shela goes out hunting every now and then and keeps her babies fed.  From time to time she deposits half a deer or boar on my doorstep.”

              The two entered the small cabin and Terri almost fell into the chair in front of the hearth.

“That’s supposed to be my chair.” Kenner told her.