A Quick Sun Rises (14 page)

“When it were obvious that none could harm the beast with our axes we took to the deepest tunnels where the mass of the beast no longer could be followin’. We lost many a fine lad in the battle but there still be pockets of others in the bowels of the mountains. I were sent to find King Helgar with another lad but he disappeared not three night past. Have ye not been seein’ him?”

Bardolf look away from the dwarf. “Nay, but we seen yer dragon three night past.” No one said it, but all knew what Bardolf was thinking.

* * *

“Are these all the horses then?” Jack asked the soldier standing at his elbow.

“Yes, my Lord,” the man answered crisply. It hadn’t taken long for the news to spread that King Dagan was no longer and that one of the first line of kings had returned. Though most of the men had no memory of Jack and when he first ruled so many years ago, most took the news without the least amount of resistance. It appeared that the previous king was not well loved by those not of the so-called elite class.

Jack had called for the royal coffers to be pilfered of all their wealth and for any owning horses not agreeing to leave the city to be paid twice the horse’s worth so that all the animals could be gathered in assisting the massive exodus. Any not agreeing to sell were privately dispatched and the horse then confiscated. It sounded a harsh and murderous command at first, but those not willing to leave would have met a much worse demise at the hands of the enemy. Plus, all the animals were needed to aid the living to escape. Jack had made it clear that no one in the city was to be mistreated but that those staying behind should be considered dead anyway.

Hundreds of horses had been lined up and quickly assessed to see where they would be of the greatest worth and then shuttled off to their assigned duties. The strongest would be used to pull carts of supplies and those people too young, too old, or too unhealthy to match the quick pace that would be required. The remaining horses would be used to carry women and children. All able-bodied men were required to walk. The people were also categorized and shuffled along to different areas according to their health and ability to handle a sword. The armory had also been emptied and all who had them were required to bring any and all weapons with them. Jack had noticed that many of the outlying farmers walked about with their pitchforks and scythes bearing them as their weapons of choice just like many a smithy he’d spotted deftly hefting their hammers. Swords were not the only weapons that could kill.

The groups had been split into companies of tens, fifties, hundreds, and thousands with each group having a commander who was in charge of and spoke for the group. These groups were then surrounded by the cavalry with the regular soldiers and guards to the rear to cover the retreat from the city.

Jack knew they had a day or maybe two at the best to distance his people from the city before Zadok arrived. Though gruesome to contemplate, the elite, all of whom refused to leave, and some from the other classes who still put their trust in Prissley Maggest and his ilk, would be the fodder that stalled and bogged down Zadok’s horde as they ransacked the city killing all in their path. In a sick sense, it was those who were staying behind, and unknowingly sacrificing themselves for the rest who were not so clouded by greed to leave, that would turn out being the unlikely heroes. Their eventual sacrifice would give the others a chance to get away—as long as the dragons stayed close to their master.

Jack found himself suddenly scanning the skyline as if expecting to discover the masses of dragons winging toward them. “Good,” he said to the soldier while absently pulling at his beard. “Make sure that everyone of them has a rider or is pulling a wagon. I want us leaving by sunset tonight.” The soldier saluted smartly and was turning to leave when Jack suddenly called him back. “Oh, and one final thing. Spread the word to the leaders and have them inform everyone that once we leave there will be a single wolg that will be joining the camp.”

“Sir?”

He turned to the young man who was obviously perplexed by such a statement. Wolg’s were known as natural allies to trolls after all. “He answers to the name Erl,” he said, and then his demeanor became hard and intense so that there could be no misunderstanding between them. “No one is to harm him or in any way hassle him. He is not an enemy but one of the greatest allies we have. Do you understand?”

The soldier quickly saluted again. “Yes, sir!”

“Good. Now make sure everyone else understands because if the tiniest thing should befall him, I will be coming after you. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir!” the soldier answered, the slight quiver in his voice unmistakable.

“Good. Dismissed.” The soldier hurried off through the crowds immediately grabbing one of the group leaders to pass the word about the king’s strange pet. Jack could not hold back the smile as the man’s head turned toward him flashing a look of incredulity. “We’ve been apart long enough, my friend,” he sighed and then turned away catching sight of Ranse and Jace as they approached.

He had been expecting this confrontation ever since he finally revealed his identity in the king’s court, but the press of the moment and the almost impossible feat of evacuating a whole city had pushed all other matters far from their thoughts. Now he would finally determine the emotions and mind of the once Prince Ranse. He felt fairly certain that Ranse was not the type to seek office or begrudge a loss in station that he never really held anyway, but Jack had been king long enough and, as a child, been witness first hand to what the hanging carrot of power and authority can do to someone thought beyond such temptations.

“My Lord,” Ranse said while saluting and bowing submissively. There was no mockery or spite in his voice or his motions but Jack was still on guard for the slightest hint of resentment.

Smiling faintly, Jack stretched out his bear size hands and grabbed Ranse by the shoulders. Jace flinched slightly at the contact, but did not change his position or reach for his sword. It was obviously an adjustment for him as well. No longer was he the bodyguard to the prince but instead a comrade at arms. “Please, Ranse, call me Jack. I have been too long from the formalities of the royal court to get used to such manners any longer. Plus, I am too old to change now.”

Ranse smiled and nodded. “I understand how you feel.”

Jack eyed him for a moment, searching his face, still seeking for the slightest sign that would tip him off to any angst toward what had happened to his father or the hunger for a return to position. But all he found was the sincerity of a true heart and the fervor of one who loved his home and country. Still, he had to be absolutely positive. And that is what motivated his next words. “I am sorry for your father and brothers. The last thing I wished for them was their demise.”

Ranse looked down for a moment while nodding his head. “Thank you,” he finally said, bringing his head up and looking him straight in the eye. “My family was corrupt and broken and, I suppose, they received what they deserved. Had my father acted properly from the start, he would still be alive and our people safe. But, sadly, that is not what will be remembered in the annals of history.”

Though Jack didn’t want to come right out and ask, he needed to know without doubt and suddenly the words were just falling from his lips. “And what of your sudden loss of power?”

Ranse smiled wearily and slowly shook his head. “As the youngest son, I never really had any. But if you’re wondering where I stand concerning your return to the throne I hope you will know my sincerity when I say I am relieved. Now, after all of this is over, I will finally be able to live the life that I choose not one cluttered by formality or duty. You have my pity.”

Jack studied his eyes and demeanor for a moment and then smiled sadly. “Thank you. Now you know partly why I disappeared all of those years ago; and also why I was forced to return now.”

Ranse smiled, nodding his understanding. Power in the right hands was never something sought after but rather accepted and endured. Those who yearned for it would never be suited for it and would eventually be destroyed by it. “Actually, the main purpose for our coming was to offer you something that is rightfully yours.” Ranse looked sadly at Jace who just stared straight ahead.

As if on cue, the large weapons master suddenly bent to one knee, and with a quick and fluid motion drew his sword and placed it on the ground at Jack’s feet. “I offer you my sword and my life in defense of your person from any who would seek you harm.”

Caught by surprise, Jack looked down at Jace and then looked back at Ranse who just nodded in confirmation. Jack cleared his throat, not certain at first how to respond. “Yes, right, well…” he stammered and then paused. Finally he took a deep breath and stood straight trying to muster an air of authority. “I accept your offer Jace but direct you to remain with Ranse in his service until such time as I feel the need of your arm.”

Jace looked up hesitantly, not knowing how to take what his new king had said until Ranse laughed and then spoke. “Well, I guess, old friend, that you are still not rid of me after all. It will be a strain to keep you around but I suppose I cannot counter the command from my king.” Ranse nudged Jace with his boot and the large man finally retrieved his sword and slowly stood. “We will serve wherever needed, my Lord,” Ranse offered and then both bowed their heads.

Jack nodded back. “I suspect you will.”

Chapter Nine 

Gorbrak’s massive form dropped from the night sky mere yards from the farthest reaches of Zadok’s army. His sudden appearance caused quite a stir in those closest to him as he immediately pulled himself inward and resumed his human form; a shape in which he’d spent a majority of his time of late. It had not been difficult to infiltrate Dagan’s inner circle of trusted allies as his dragon-fear could also be manipulated to create a sense of total trust in the weak minded. Dagan had been easier than he had anticipated.

Walking through the camp, he had no trouble sniffing out Zadok’s presence while a pathway instantly opened for him by those tripping over each other and themselves to keep out of his immediate reach. Though the creatures that made up Zadok’s army were typically offensive to his advanced palate, he wasn’t beyond killing for the mere enjoyment of wrenching the life out of one of their inferior forms.

He knew Zadok was going to be furious by the news he had to deliver, but he also recognized that all was not lost and that most things had not changed. True, he was no longer in the king’s court where he was expected to be at Zadok’s arrival, but things had happened that were beyond his control.

Quickly finding Zadok’s tent, he entered to find him in deep conversation with his sister, Krengor, also in her human form and Resdin who never seemed to leave his side. Zadok’s head turned with a snap, his eyes hot with rage. “What are you doing here!” he shouted.

Gorbrak bowed, though only as far as absolutely required and no more. Zadok was his creator, for which he owed gratitude, but it was only the sorcerer’s magic that kept him from ripping out the man’s black heart. Someday he would find a way to nullify his master’s power over them and then he would free himself and his siblings from his commands. “There has been an unforeseen change,” he answered smoothly.

“There are no changes,” Zadok shouted in reply, “unless I make them!”

Resdin sneered at him, obviously enjoying the exchange. It used to bother him that such an insignificant pest would dare mock him. Resdin was like a fly that could not be killed or pushed away. But he quickly discovered that the best way to get back at him, short of eating him outright, was to just ignore him. Like a favorite child, Resdin couldn’t stand to be ignored by anyone.

“The king is dead,” he said flatly, as if bored by the whole interchange. Though Resdin could be disregarded, he knew he had to still take care with how he dealt with his master. Zadok’s power was too great to battle, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t push the limits a bit. “He has been replaced by another who has claimed the throne.”

Zadok composed himself with this new information. “And who is it that now sits in authority?”

“Some lowly human named Kendun.”

Zadok suddenly laughed out loud. “So, Kendun returns after all these years.” Then becoming serious he asked, “Does he have another heir?”

Gorbrak shrugged. “He came with others but none that appeared to be his pup.”

“And where is he now?”

“Don’t know,” he answered honestly, but just as quickly changed to a lie. “I felt it important to bring you the news so I left right away.” He was not about to confess that he’d been chased off by mere birds.

Zadok stared at him as if judging his words. Gorbrak held his gaze, knowing to turn away would reveal his lie. “And what of Wargon?”

“He stayed back to keep an eye on things.”

* * *

The massive army took up residence in the slums just outside Calandra’s first gate, as Prissley and his small entourage escorted Zadok and Resdin, and their three hooded advisors, right up the main street toward the upper level. The gates that had been guarded just days before were now open allowing access to the different levels in the city without the slightest challenge. Prissley seemed faintly agitated by the fact that the streets were completely empty as all those who foolishly chose to stay behind were now hiding in their homes in terror as the realization of their folly had fully revealed itself.

It was just after they reached the second gate that Zadok’s army started to follow, pouring into the city proper. They spread out through all the side streets, filling each level as they went, until they were all within the city walls. Zadok’s magic was barely able to maintain control over the bloodlust now pumping through their veins, anxious for the killing spree they craved and had been promised.

Prissley seemed totally unaware that the closer he got to the city center the closer he was coming to his demise. All he could think of, for the moment, was that his family would finally sit on Calandra’s throne where they would be able to glut themselves on the backs of the people they ruled. Zadok, on the other hand, was becoming agitated. Where were all the people? He had fully expected some sort of trap from Kendun but the time to spring such a stratagem had already passed. The army’s bloodlust that was constantly beating against his inner will was beginning to find its way into his own psyche to the point that he felt himself wanting nothing more than to feel someone’s blood wash over his hands.

Glancing at Resdin he calmed himself in the euphoric irony that had recently unfolded. Gorbrak’s lack of control had actually played more into his twisted will than he could have thought imaginable making this moment all the sweeter. Yet, it bothered him that nothing had yet occurred. They were almost to the inner city and his army would soon be positioned throughout its streets. Though victory had always been his, the glory of the moment was quickly being swallowed up in its relative ease.

A lone woman suddenly approached them followed by her attendants; one holding a bundle of peacock feathers over her head to shade her from the sun while the other carried the train of her bulbous dress so as not to allow it to be defiled by touching the ground. Zadok forced his most charming smile.
Where are you Kendun
?

“My I present,” Prissley said, in his annoying nasal tone, “my mother, her Ladyship, Madam Putressa Maggest.”

Zadok flourished his best bow taking her outstretched gloved hand and pressing his lips to it. “Madam Maggest,” he said, smiling broadly, “it is indeed a tremendous honor to finally make your acquaintance. Your beauty surpasses even that I had imagined when Prissley described you to me.”

Putressa blushed, waving a fan she produced as if from nowhere, to cool her flushed face. “You do me too great a tribute, your Lordship. It is I who am honored by your arrival.” Over anxious, Madam Maggest suddenly cut right to the business at hand. “I assume Prissley has laid out the groundwork for a mutually successful agreement between us?”

Zadok almost laughed. Prissley had indeed laid the groundwork but to the finality of that work they were yet unaware. “Pardon me if I should sound rude, your Ladyship,” he spoke smoothly, “but where might be the king, that the matters at hand might be discussed by those having the proper authority?”

Putressa flushed for a brief moment, obviously offended but then quickly smiled. “Of course, you are right, but let me assure you that all of the authority of Calandra is here present. The previous king has abdicated, of sorts, while the next claimant to the throne has turned tail and scurried from the city leaving my family as the rightful heirs to the throne.”

“What!” Zadok raged. Prissley and his mother jumped at his breach in protocol, both bringing over-jeweled hands to their mouths, their entourages stepping back in fear. Zadok was suddenly right in Putressa’s face. “What do you mean he left the city? Where is everyone else!” he demanded.

Madam Maggest felt herself almost at a loss for words. “He…well that is…”

Zadok nodded to one of his hooded servants whose hand suddenly reached out and caught Prissley by the neck. Prissley froze, the terror thick in his eyes that seemed to bulge from their sockets. “I asked you a question, woman,” Zadok hissed.

A puddle suddenly formed underneath Putressa’s dress as she fought to gain the air necessary to answer. “M-most h-h-have gone,” she stuttered, barely above a whisper.

“Where?”

“I, I d-don’t know exactly. Th-th-they’ve left the c-c-city.” Suddenly gaining her breath she pleaded. “Please, my Lord, there are still enough of us here to work out a satisfactory agreement. I’m sure we can accommodate you.”

Zadok flashed his most charming smile. Putressa seemed to relax some though her eyes still darted back and forth between Prissley, who was obviously struggling to breathe, and Zadok. “Yes, my dear,” Zadok answered, “you will provide us with all we need—and more.”

Madam Maggest tried to scream but her throat was already squeezed shut.

* * *

Tryg watched with obvious concern as Tchee circled above the camp in the early morning light. Since he joined up with them, Tchee had not let him out of her sight. He loathed the winged creature but knew he could not let his hatred for her get the best of him. He needed to stay with the group and there was nothing, at this point, that he was willing do to invite a dismissal.

The tent flap opened behind him and Jack emerged stretching and still trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. He could hear Domis and Teek stirring within. “Good morning,” Jack offered, throwing him a poorly veiled look of suspicion as he passed. Tryg merely nodded, grateful the newfound king did not stop to wait for an answer. Waiting until the king’s back had almost disappeared from sight he checked the air once more, taking in Tchee’s position before stepping forward to follow Jack.

“Hey Tryg,” Domis’ voice emerged from the tent, “where do you think you’re going?”

He sighed, stealing his resolve before turning to face the head that had popped from the tent. “I have things to do,” he spat, trying to control the hatred that suddenly flared and leaked into his voice.

Domis’ eyes narrowed slightly. “I agree. But they aren’t in that direction. We need to get the tent packed and today would be a good day for you to start helping.”

Tryg waved him off. “I didn’t sleep in it. It’s not my problem.” Then turning, he stormed off in the direction Jack had gone.

“He’d just get in the way,” Teek’s voice offered from the belly of the tent drawing Domis back in.

“Were all of your people like that?” Domis asked while helping Teek pack up their bedding.

Domis and Teek had made a spot for Tryg in the tent they were sharing with Jack but the boy had refused, claiming he preferred to remain outside. At one point during their first night, Domis awoke to find Tryg standing over Jack. When he called out to him to find out what he was doing, he seemed startled and turned himself back out of doors without the slightest word of explanation. He was beginning to make Domis very uncomfortable.

“Who knows what he has been through?” Teek answered tying one of the bedrolls together.

“Exactly,” Domis replied. “No one knows because he refuses to tell us anything.”

Teek looked away. “It’s not always easy to deal with loss. People handle it in different ways.”

Domis sighed. He and Teek had spoken rather freely about the loss of each of their parents and had found that it helped them both to heal, as well as bonded them as friends. He knew that Teek’s tragedy was still fresh in his mind and that for Tryg it must be even a greater shock still. Though Teek did not remember the boy from home, he had told them that he had been on an Appeasing Journey and hadn’t heard about the demise of their people until Teek told him. Even then, his reaction seemed less than interested. It was as if Teek were merely showing him how to tie a knot he already knew how to fasten.

“I don’t mean to make light of the tragedy you both face or the way he chooses to work through it. It’s just…I don’t know. My hair seems to stand on end whenever he’s around. He’s not like you.”

Teek smiled. “I think I understand what you are saying.”

Domis cheered. “You do?”

“Yes,” Teek said, nodding. “And you don’t need to worry about it. Just because Tryg and I are both Waseeni and you are not, doesn’t mean our friendship will change at all.”

Domis shook his head in disbelief. “That’s not it, Teek!”

Teek just smiled back. “We’re best friends, Domis. And that’s not going to change.”

Domis just let it go at that. He did have to admit that at first he had been worried he would be left out when Tryg first showed up. But he was already beyond that. It was something else. He didn’t trust Tryg, and he was fairly certain it had nothing to do with his friendship with Teek.

* * *

Jack moved quickly away from the camp, anxious to be out in the grasslands alone. He’d been too long around people and just needed a few moments of his own to clear his thoughts and listen to the quiet without having to be constantly interrupted by someone needing one thing or another. He’d forgotten how demanding it had been to be king.

It was only the second day since they left Calandra but the excitement of the adventure had quickly fallen away for most. To move such a large group of people was difficult at best. Few fully understood the reason they were leaving which meant most complained almost incessantly. After the first night, a large group of the merchant class was determined to return to the city. It wasn’t until they were told they would forfeit all their goods and animals and have to walk back without supplies that they finally agreed to stay. And though he knew their tongues would be poison to many of the others, he was not willing to give their lives up so easily; even when they cared less for themselves than he.