The High King: A Tale of Alus (2 page)

The old man, known as Vizier, crept through the throne room chamber his shoulders slightly hunched with age and the top of his head bald with a crescent of gray from ear to ear. Torches were lit in their sconces along walls and on every other support column in the two rows alongside the main walkway. The flames were only a few feet above the vizier's head and lit the walkway well enough with their red glow, but, as the robed official glanced upward towards the high ceiling shrouded with shadows, the heavy atmosphere seemed foreboding as he steeled himself for dealing with Merrick.

The room was empty of everyone save a few soldiers manning their stations. The vizier ignored the men and went straight over to a small door at the side of the throne's dais. Scarlet tapestries behind the throne disguised the passageway perfectly with their flowing lengths as they were intended to do, but the man found the doorway easily and knocked on its wooden surface quietly.

With a slight creak, a servant opened the door from within without a word. The official spotted his master dressed in black, dark haired and brooding upon the balcony set across from the throne room in the lord's private study. Merrick was in such a contemplative mood that it took several moments before he deigned to notice the second most important man in his land. "What is it, Krulir? By the look on your face, I assume that you have troubling news, so speak and get it over."

Vizier Krulir's stomach curdled. His lord was in an especially bad mood this day, which was never good for delivering bad news. "Well, there is good news as well, m' lord."

Merrick folded his arms imperiously and tilted his head back waiting unimpressed. His brown eyes were shadowed by his frowning brow.

The vizier nearly sighed aloud, but caught the act mid breath quickly knowing that doing so would make the lord even more annoyed. "Our troops have just arrived back with the required tribute that the traders’ guild promised us..."

"And...?" Merrick snapped at him waiting impatiently.
"And one of the squads came back bloodied from a duel with a shepherd boy."
"What?" the lord asked quietly and controlled though the vizier knew the tone too well and it only slightly masked his anger. Merrick's rage continued to rise while he was still sorting out the information of what had happened. Continued confusion as the vizier procrastinated made the lord angrier still. "Just one shepherd boy? What happened?"
Krulir swallowed with difficulty. "Well,
apparently, the master of the home gave the squad the proper tithe, but the younger brother of the farmer was angered and drawn into a duel. He fought them all. The soldiers say that the boy was an excellent fighter with exceptional strength and stamina. The duels lasted nearly a half hour and the boy was still fresh enough to put away their sergeant, who is a competent enough swordsman, I am told. He did it easily from what I hear."
"I'll deal with the squad later. What family chose to dishonor the trade agreement?"
"The Aramatheas near the town of Bearden in the southeast quarter of Marshalla. From what I am to understand though, they honored the trade agreement properly. It was a personal matter of some kind that sparked the duels," Krulir answered trying to keep the lord calm by smoothing out the facts. Lord Merrick was known for his temper tantrums unfortunately for the old man.
"I do not care what the cause was, vizier. What I do care about is that my men were made fools of there and that reflects badly upon me. I won't tolerate such affronts to myself or my army. Do you understand?"
Nodding in agreement, he answered, "Yes, m' lord. What would you have me do to rectify the matter, sire?"
He heard a low growl from the lord. "Kill the sergeant. Put the others into a capable sergeant’s hands for discipline. Do you have any more bad news, vizier, or are you through here?" he asked grumpily.
"That was all, my lord."
"Fine, then get out of my sight, old man, before I lose my temper!"
Krulir turned away not wanting to even think of such a consequence coming about. If this was not his temper, he would prefer not seeing his true rage unleashed.

The door flew open, slamming into the wall behind it. Dust fell from the ceiling without Simon's noticing as he stormed out of the house. "Gerid, where do you think that you are going, boy? You've still got chores to do!"

Gerid stood with one of the shepherds. It was his best friend, Janus. Simon saw his brother look over at him first and then mutter something under his breath to the shepherd. The young man finished with a sigh. As Gerid turned grudgingly towards his brother, Simon caught a final rolling of the younger man's eyes. "I need to go, Simon. I've done everything that needs to be done today. Whatever's left, I can always do tomorrow. There's always something that needs doing on this farm anyways."

Simon's eyes narrowed with fury. "No, you'll do them now. You can put off whatever you two have cooked up, not the chores."

"No, Simon," he answered firmly, "the others are waiting for us as it is, so I am going. You can't stop me."
The elder brother finally caught sight of the sheathed sword strapped to the young man's side. Janus wore one as well. "Don't count on it," he muttered. "Where do you think you're going anyway? You seem to be carrying that sword of yours an awful lot lately."
Gerid folded his arms defiantly for a moment before the boy suddenly softened. "We've been training with swords."
Shrugging with his hands spread palm upward, Simon asked, "Why? Why do you need to practice with that thing?"
The younger man suddenly looked
uncomfortable. "Well... you see many of the farmers and townsfolk are starting to have problems paying King Merrick's tribute. People outside the guilds are being forced to pay well beyond their means. Stephen Tarsis started meetings with many of the men a couple of months ago. He heard about what I did to Merrick's soldiers and asked me to come join them that I might teach them how to fight."
Suspicions quickly flew into his mind. "Is Tarsis trying to start a rebellion? I'll have him taken care of if he is. Father would rise from out of his grave, if you were killed trying to do something stupid like that!"
"You don't understand!" Gerid growled. "Stephen isn't doing this because he wants to rule in Merrick's place. He has been in contact with several other towns and farms. The people are all looking to the coming winter in fear. If Merrick keeps taxing them the way that he is, then many of them will be left to starve before next spring."
Simon shook his head unwilling to believe it. "No, it's nowhere near that bad. The taxes we pay are only a minimal portion of what we have."
"That's what I said at first, Simon. The guild protected itself very well, but the common men outside the guild are in serious trouble. You're deluding yourself, if you truly believe that Lord Merrick, the so called Warden of the North, is taxing fairly. Open your eyes. Go to the town and talk with them. Look at the way that they live now and it’s actually getting worse.
"Soldiers have been rumored to have been attacking those that can't pay. I've even heard that they've raped women and burned down several families homes to the ground.
"Stephen is simply trying to unify the people. If we form together and explain what is fair to King Merrick, maybe then he'll relent. If not..., then maybe it will be time to put a new ruler in his place, one that takes care of his people, instead of taking advantage of them."
"That's treason, boy!" Simon replied. "The words that I hear sound like they are someone else’s though. If you continue to dispute the lord's actions like that, then you'll wind up getting yourself killed in some foolish rebellion. I cannot allow that."
Gerid sighed and held up his hand to stop his brother's words. "Enough. I am going. If you want to talk about it tonight, fine. I won't change my mind, but we can talk about it." The young man turned then and started towards the road. Janus looked briefly at Simon and sighed. He too turned and followed Gerid.
Simon stood watching their backs a moment longer before he finally decided that he should follow. Returning inside the house long enough to grab up his sword and to let the others know of his departure, Simon ran to the barn to saddle his horse and rode after the young men.

The vizier followed his lord through a small, dank hallway deep under the castle. It was proving to be an exceedingly long passage, long enough to make the man wonder if they still remained beneath Grimnal Keep. They finally arrived at a small wooden door framed in iron. It was reinforced with cross plating of iron as well to make it exceptionally strong, and heavy as well by the grunt that he heard the soldier give in front of him as he pushed the door inward. Why such a door would be hidden away down here, was beyond his speculation. He had never been informed of its existence or its reason in all his years as vizier and he prided himself on knowing just about everything that went on inside the Grimnal.

That was until now, as he found the reason inside the room on the other side.
Men robed in red looked in the direction of the doorway. There were a few tables with books cluttering them and scattered among glass tubes and metal instruments which the vizier had never known to exist before. Behind the men, stood a large, stone table, which lay only a few feet from the base of the back wall. There was an unusual grouping of stone inlaid in a rough pattern set into the stone wall beyond the gray stone plateau. If it had actually led to an opening in the surface, he would have thought that it was an oval doorway.
A tall, red, robed figure moved towards them from the group of mysterious men. His robe bore inlays of gold and ebony unlike any of his fellows. "Lord Merrick," the man greeted in a deep voice and bowed slightly, "you've come to oversee the last piece of the gathering?"
"Yes, Kalem, are our friends ready to join us?"
The other man nodded, "Oh most definitely, my lord. They tire of the wait to come to our world and have readily offered their services in exchange for our freeing them from its ruinous existence."
The vizier watched his master smile coldly as he replied, "Good, then my plans go as expected. Begin the ritual of gathering."
Krulir looked about warily. He seemed to be the only one present that had absolutely no idea what was transpiring here, but he was unsure that he should ask of it where Merrick was concerned. "Sire?" he ventured carefully.
"Yes, Krulir?" Merrick questioned without deigning to look at him. He was forcing the vizier to tread on treacherous ground intentionally.
"What is this gathering?"
"I have enlisted allies to help enforce my will upon all of the North Continent. The plans have been in progress since the first resistance to the taxing half a year ago. Now be quiet. Wait and watch."
A scream echoed throughout the chamber from a side door that he had not noticed when he had entered. A young woman was dragged into the room struggling against her captors. She was completely naked Krulir noticed as they dragged her to the stone table. His chest pounded quickly and his limbs went numb as he realized what her role had to be in this ritual.
The robed men tossed her onto the hard slab with all the care of a hog thrown into the slaughterhouse. Her wrists and ankles were then chained to rings set into the corners of the table, even as she screamed on and on.
King Merrick's eyes suddenly flashed with anger before he quickly stalked forward towards the table. The vizier hoped that he too felt the sense of disgust for such a sacrifice as well as he, but those hopes were dashed as he struck the woman sharply across the face.
The victim lay dazed for a moment.
"Why did you not bind the wretch's mouth as well, Kalem? The wench is hurting my eardrums!"
The man looked at him stone faced and answered, "The ritual requires an unclothed virgin, sire. Even a cloth gag would throw off the content of the spell. Besides, the spirits seem to relish the anguish in their victims screams," he replied with a grim smile. Kalem nodded to the other sorcerers and they took up their positions around the table. There were eight who joined hands together into a circle and began to hum. The ninth man, Kalem, stood just within the circle facing the altar and the wall.
The girl lay upon the stone wide eyed with fear. When Kalem reached into his cloth folds and withdrew a rune engraved knife, the young woman started to scream at its sight. The scream was rather short lived, as with a brief incantation, the sorcerer plunged the blade down into her throat.
Krulir turned away appalled, but still he could hear the gurgling of her breath through the blood filling her throat and lungs. The gurgling wouldn't stop, though it should have. Forced to turn back by his morbid curiosity, he found the girl with the blade still driven completely through her neck.
The bricks of the stone gateway quickly drew his attention from the girl as they began to flicker. An electrical charge started to fill the room. Krulir's eyes stung and began to tear making the scene hazy and he could fill the hairs on his head rising in a halo of static.
The humming of the men abruptly changed to chanting. The sorcerers had come to the most important part of the ritual. The reciting of the spell was into its second minute before the archway suddenly flashed a brilliant, blinding, blue light. Krulir couldn't look directly into the steady light's brightness.
Then Krulir noticed a strange new sound. It took a moment to realize its presence as it began subtly. At first there was a quiet background noise, as the incantations neared fruition the sound became louder and louder still. Nearly a thunder of noise, to the vizier it sounded like thousands of voices screaming in fear. The man tried to cover his ears to protect himself, but it grew to deafening proportions. The screams grated upon his whole body. He could feel them echoing through him as much as he could hear them now.
Even as he agonized, he was able to notice a sudden shadow as it flashed through the gateway. It was followed quickly by several more. The shadows stepped into the room and moved around the circle of sorcerers. As they moved out of the blinding light, the vizier was finally able to make out the features of the creatures that they had called forth.
A wave of fear rushed over him. He had never seen the like of such creatures, except maybe in his dreams and they were less frightening than these creatures. They were larger than men with skin like stone. The wings upon their backs drew his attention next as he began to gaze at what had become reality before his eyes. The creatures had long tails, glowing red eyes, and only four fingers and toes per appendage. Some had bone extending in nasty spears from knees and elbows. Horns grew from most of their foreheads as well.
Krulir could think of only one word to describe the monsters before him: Demons.
The screams and light finally subsided even as the sacrifice heaved her last breath. The gateway had closed, but not before depositing twenty-one of the creatures into the room. The gateway chamber had become extremely crowded. The beasts looked uncomfortable in their surroundings, even as Krulir was uncomfortable with them.
King Merrick spoke to the most ornamented of the creatures, "You must be Kar'esh. Follow me, warlord, so that we can get out of this cramped space."