The High King: A Tale of Alus (53 page)

The men had begun walking forward towards the main keep. The impressive ebony stone block walls surrounded them and an open door led them inside the castle. Gerid noted banners of many colors and styles, though they were all united under the theme of war and conquest. Marshalla had fought minor wars with its rivals during the centuries, but never on the level Merrick had led them too.

“Once the vizier was out of the way,” Baitrum continued in a quiet voice meant for the giant alone. The corridors were all quite empty save for their number, however. “Once he was out of the way, it was easy enough to take over the keep. Nobles were restricted and many didn’t even realize it until it was too late. We sent those still loyal to Merrick to the city as guardsmen without anyone understanding why. We had said it was to make sure the vizier’s death didn’t cause any unrest in the city and villages outside. Some are in the villages even now.

“I did what I could to remove opposition without bloodshed.”
Nodding impressed, Gerid spoke, “Very well done. The vizier’s death fit in well with providing the confusion to step in, I see.
“Has my brother also arrived?” he asked changing subjects.
“Two days earlier. The vizier died that day. We moved him to the Grimnal today after things were arranged outside.”
Gerid nodded letting little of his released worry or gladness show as he contemplated the status of his invasion. Simon was safe. The city was theirs and his real army had not even arrived. Things could not be going better. If their time table continued as smoothly, Terris and his allies in Maris would be reinforced soon enough.
Entering the main greeting hall of the keep through a pair of guarded double doors, Gerid’s eyes flicked between the three people standing on the opposite side of an oval table of a black wood burnished to a gleaming obsidian. First, he noted a beautiful blond woman. Decked in silks of deep blue nearly matching her eyes, a light weight dress tied at the waist with a golden belt, Alyanna radiated beauty and a smile on her face intensified the look. Next to her stood Simon. Even his clothes seemed gleaned from a noble’s closet. His elder brother grinned at Gerid, but his eyes flicked to the woman on his other side.
A beauty in a silk blouse of softened red and a silk blue skirt. Jewelry of silver complimented her outfit and beauty, but it couldn’t distract Gerid for more than a moment. Even grown up and matured into a graceful beauty, the man knew his long lost sister’s face. Lighting up in sheer joy, the girl ran to him half screaming, “Gerid!”
Leaping to wrap her arms around his neck, Gerid hugged her to his chest swinging her in a quick circle that nearly knocked Baitrum from his feet as he moved to dodge the flying embrace. “Serra,” he found himself whispering with tears in his eyes.
Pulling herself up, Serra kissed his cheek before hugging him tight once more. “Gods, I never thought that I’d see you two again and then first Simon and now you. I can hardly believe it and I swear I think you’ve gotten bigger!”
Placing her gently on the ground, her weight nothing in his strong hands, Gerid smiled at her warmly. “We always thought you dead until Simon found you. I was told that much at least. The things that have happened since the attack. The great distances we’ve traveled and here you are again, safe and sound. I know that you have definitely grown up.” He glanced at Simon, “I think she looks a lot like mother.”
Simon smiled before nodding. “Just as pretty that’s for sure. Who knew that troublesome little girl would blossom like this, huh?”
With an impish grin, Serra wagged a finger at her older brother, “Better watch it, brother, I know the queen.”
A bright lilting laugh from Alyanna joined the rest.
Family reunions were soon pushed slightly aside, even as Serra sat beside him resting a hand on his forearm or holding his hand as she once had as a little girl. The return of her brothers nearly made her want to be that girl who had two big brothers watching out and protecting her. She was all but grown now, and even had Baitrum as a lover, but still the warmth of their return nearly overwhelmed her.
While much of the talk was about catching up, though Simon had told Serra much of what had happened the past two days, much was spoken over their plans. Alyanna and Baitrum’s parts may have been all but achieved, but still there would be things needed to be undertaken to properly secure the city. With the gargoyles in Merrick’s employ perhaps they could never feel completely secure, but they could try.
Simon had done all he could in establishing things as they were, but he was less a warrior than a merchant. He would stay in Hala as well. Rebels and other allies could keep in touch and get orders from here, while Gerid’s army must proceed into Maris.
The commander was briefed with as much information as could be had on the alien creatures brought to the North Continent. The wizards from the other world that Serra and Baitrum had come across had been able to give them some ideas to take them away from Merrick, but there were risks involved. Gerid heard them out making notes in his mind. A plan quickly formed, though he wondered if it could truly work. If it did, then the High King was all but undone.
Word from Terris had arrived regularly over the past month or so. How to fight the gargoyles had been included. The spears needed would be ready should his plan fail.
Now it was just a matter of time. Until the armies arrived, until they could cross the distance and see what Merrick had arrayed against them, until Gerid could pit himself against the man that had nearly ruined his life as well as nearly ending it. Renewed anger reinforced his drive to end Merrick’s tyranny once and for all.

A body lay in a bloody pool in front of the large tent. The sounds of anger and dismay came from within from the only occupant.

Snarling and cursing Krulir’s name, Merrick had read the messenger’s note and nearly lost his mind. The old fool had fallen down a flight of stairs? He could barely believe his bad luck. The vizier was supposed to be keeping things running from Hala while the High King of the North finished this war. Now who would run things? Matreln or one of Krulir’s assistants? Maybe he would have to send one of the captains or colonels to make sure things ran smoothly in the city.

Such a thing happening now, even as he came so close to his goals. Sure the Cadmene knights had all disappeared on him and reinforcements for the gargoyles and dragons had not arrived, nor word of them for that matter, but his armies continued to drive the combined forces of Maris and Sileoth before them.

Collapsing onto his fancy field chair, nearly as heavy and gilt as a throne, Merrick sighed letting the anger dim slightly.

The messenger had been a casualty of his foul temper. Nearly two weeks it had taken for the message to reach him. His army bogging down from time to time to deal with another feint from his enemies had led him to cross less than half of Maris so far. Oapril remained tantalizingly close, but his enemies had gotten trickier. Their tactics were so far different from the beginnings of the war in the spring. It was almost like someone else was now leading them.

Stabbing his knife into the wood of his desk, he noted the blood still drying on the blade. Maybe he shouldn’t have killed the man, but his rage had overtaken him. Perhaps leaving him alive to ask a few more questions would have been wise, but what was done was done. He would need a different messenger to relay his words back to Hala, unless he sent someone back to lead them that Merrick could brief enough to not need a messenger?

Another sigh. There always seemed to be these little things to annoy him. Krulir had often removed the most basic of annoyances for him, but the man was gone and causing as many troubles as he had most likely fixed, Merrick thought.

“Ah well,” he mumbled to himself, “I can hammer this out as I have the rest. This won’t stop me anymore than those stupid golems that were set before me. They slowed me down for a time too, but now they’re gone as all my enemies will be,” he declared to himself.

The carnal gulls between Maris and Hala had been flying regularly for nearly two months now. The former king, Terris, often checked on the keepers of the birds for new word. Nearly two months ago the alliance of nations against Merrick had given up the battle that had virtually finished off their best defense in the golem wizards. Since then it had been a series of feints and parries that had been steering Merrick in whatever direction Terris and the generals felt would best lead him to ground that favored their men.

They could not hope to defeat Merrick so long as he had his gargoyles and dragons, but they had not given up. If Terris had the beautiful rugged terrain of Maris’ forests and ridged hills nearly mountains in size in Cadmene, perhaps things would have gone better. Cadmene was a land of gentle hills. Forests were few and far between as it was an older, more cultivated land than Maris. The eastern landfalls of the ancients and early expansion had tamed the lands much sooner than their cousins who eventually took to the northwest.

Using the terrain, they had prolonged this war far longer than Merrick would have liked. So long as their armies remained undefeated and in the field, the High King could not risk attacking Oapril. The capitol city and it fortified walls would most likely require a siege unless the gargoyles could engineer a complete route by flying within the fortifications. Should such a thing be tried, however, they might find the soldiers there more ready than they once had been. Word of how to tame the creatures by hamstringing the beasts and using spear and sword teams made them a definite threat even in large numbers of gargoyles.

The day Alyanna had announced help coming from the last place imagined, Terris had been slightly hesitant to get his hopes up. A fugitive from Marshalla only a few years before had gained enough power to come from Rhearden with an army? Such a thing seemed impossible, but only a few weeks later word of an army of more than ten thousand and Hala wrested from Merrick without the man even knowing of its demise had caused them all to smile and have hope.

Whether Merrick and his generals noticed their movements’ true goals since that message, Terris did not know and doubted very much that it was important to the king. They were chasing the last true force of their enemy’s might after all. Whether it ran east or west, south or north, mattered little as long as they continued to lose and eventually died. But it would matter in the long run, once they figured out that the whole goal was to lead them as close to Marshalla’s border and the oncoming army there anyway.

How many more days would they need? The trip was long for a single rider and an army walking would take much longer even driven hard. He and the others would do what they could for as long as they could, Terris knew, but if there was ever a mistake they would pay and Merrick would win again for real. Gritting his teeth at the thought, the former king refused to let himself think such things. They would win. He knew they must.

The mist sat lightly in the valley creating a blurred patch of dark hazy green. The black stone ridge of the mountainous hill was the perfect vantage point for the figures that stood atop it. Despite the mists in the valleys, their views spanned miles of hills and valleys around them. If they hunted the valleys for an enemy, they would not be so happy with the day, but their enemy would not stay to the forested land beneath them. This enemy rode the skies.

Gerid stood before his horse with a long glass searching.
A flicker of light from the hilltop southwest of him let him know one of the scouts was still in contact. Another from the northwest said so as well.
Sighing, the commander looked behind him without the glass. Arrayed in the near distance was the mercenary force led by Kolonus. Many of the men Gerid knew from their campaigns from what seemed like a lifetime ago. Some of his soldiers had died in the seasons fighting since then. The battles had been more skirmishes than full out war since Enswere had found itself bloodied along with its ally Klosten. The loss of ships from the latter had slowed that nation as it worked to reinforce its fleets to resist Gerid’s fleet.
Now he no longer worried over Rhearden and its enemies. He did care for his adopted land, but the north was his home. This was his fight. If only he could find it, and the one he needed before the main army crashed into his. His own army had grown as he moved west. Cadmene, who he had once impersonated, had sent nearly fifteen hundred knights. A full regiment that had been held in reserve by Merrick, the remaining armies and rebellious elements had immediately tossed off their shackles and killed or captured the forces the High King had left to enforce his will.
Added to the knights was the surprising size of the men raised by the rebellion. Marshalla and Cadmene had amassed more than two thousand more to walk or ride alongside his ten thousand. The additions brought his army up to just over fourteen thousand men. A fair sized force even compared to what Merrick led. Nearly half his army’s full number, and Merrick still had to contend with the remaining armies of Sileoth, Maris and Terris’ knights. Gerid knew the math and knew that it would matter for little if they could not rid themselves of Merrick’s greatest forces.
Glancing to the thousands that hid in the valley behind him or stood revealed on the slope behind him, the commander felt only slightly worried. This would work. It had to.
“Sir,” Bakur, formerly his sergeant and since promoted to one of Kolonus’ lieutenants, pointed towards the southwest hill top. The flashes from the shining light sent their code. Pointing the glass above the hilltop, Gerid found the black dots in the sky.
“Time to grab their attention,” he ordered as excitement tightened his belly in anticipation. This was it. The moment of where they would win or lose came down to this.
It did not take long for the dots to grow. Soon he did not even need the spyglass to see them coming. They had taken the bait. Feeling safe in the skies and nearly invincible on the ground, Mar’goyn’lya figured little enough could harm them with a little investigation. They remained cautious even so, knowing that a well placed cross bolt had wounded and even caused the deaths of more than a few careless brethren.
When Gerid figured at least one of the five gliding over head could hear his voice, the giant bellowed, “Hear me, mar’goyn’lya, tell your leader, Kar’esh, that I invoke the practice of passe’rote as explained by Fa’makel’zer.” He held up a golden amulet given him by Baitrum by the gargoyle leader he had met months earlier. It was during their brief talks that the wizard had explained a way to get Kar’esh to cease his support. At the time, Baitrum had no way of using the practice or amulet. It wasn’t until talking with Gerid that they discovered the Mar’goyn’lya had such a practice. “I challenge Kar’esh to meet me at midday on that hilltop,” he finished pointing towards the next peak to the west. It would take him most of the morning to navigate the valley and reach the hilltop himself so he hoped the gargoyle would be able to meet him by then.
One of their number swooped slightly lower to see the amulet. Not wanting to give them a reason to falter, the giant swung the amulet in a couple quick circuits before tossing it up to the waiting creature. “How came you by this, human?” the gargoyle asked from where he hovered above the men.
“How I came by it means nothing. Just make sure you tell Kar’esh and have him there at the allotted time. Failure to meet his obligation to passe’rote will lead to my need to slay every last one of his mar’goyn’lya. On that you can be assured.”
The gargoyle seemed to smirk in disbelief. Gerid was large by human standards, but hardly as large as most of his gargoyle kind. “I will tell him. I am sure he would love to meet you for passe’rote, man. Who is it that wished to meet our leader?”
“Tell him Sir Gerid Aramathea, knight and protector of Rhearden, and admiral of the largest fleet in the north seas.”
“Impressive,” the creature mocked but nodded as it flew away with its flock.
“You think he’ll do it, sir?” Finneas asked curiously from his right. Bakur seemed to have been ready to ask as much himself.
“If what Baitrum was told is true, then he will. Kar’esh is supposed to put his honor before everything else. The passe’rote is an ultimate matter of honor among his kind.” Gerid looked at the sun already closing in on midmorning. If he were to meet his own obligation, he needed to get moving. With only a small honor guard following him, the giant moved towards destiny.