Duncan Fury's Command - North and East of Thunder Hill
“How many men of the company remain, Lieutenant?" Duncan asked wearily.
"Thirty-two, Sir."
Fury nodded. "Our business here is finished for today, men. We ride now back to our base, and let others take up the battle standard."
The men nodded as one. Not a soul still standing was left unmarked by the day's fighting. Some worse off than others, but all now had a battle-hardened edge about them. There was no doubt in his mind that every man present would be ready to ride forth again when the time came. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he turned his Roan and led the men away. It was time to rest.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Thunder Hill
"Sir, the Free Contingent stands ready to take your place!" Armando said, executing his snappy salute as he readied his company.
"Make it so, Master Armando. And may the HighFather be with you." The young Freeman nodded, not bothering to correct the commander in matters of religion.
Duncan Fury didn't know enough about their ways to know that J'honsa was not their patron. Rather than split hairs, Armando simply smiled and nodded. "Aye....from the look of you and yours, we shall need every blessing we can get."
"It is so." Duncan told him as the company of fresh troops began making their way down the hill and into the jaws of the beast.
He wondered how many of them he would see on their return trip, eight long hours from now.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Castillar's Refugee Column
Scholars.
The voice in her head whispered as she groaned inwardly. Academians....it is no wonder that they wielded their powers like children.
"What man leads you?" She asked them as she let herself into their tent unannounced.
"I do." One of their number stood and bowed shyly. "Merwynnar of Gaslow."
"And what drives that power I sensed from your group, Scholar? Surely you eight on your own do not possess such strength."
They blanched, but said nothing, knowing she was right. Still, they were reluctant to tell her.
"I will have my rank from you!" She spat angrily. "You learned men may be wise in the ways of the Arts, but by the Mother Goddess you know next to nothing about its practical applications! If there is a way that it might be used to save us all, then you will show me and you will do so now!"
It was not a request, they knew at once, and she did hold rank over them. Merwynn cleared his throat, and then nodded for one of the other scholars to produce the tome.
Her eyes widened when she saw the cover. "It cannot be...."
"I assure you it is, M'lady." Merwynn said as he held it between them almost like a shield. She contemplated for a long moment. "Aye....and it will take many days to decipher the words it contains to find out what spell may serve us best in holding off this host....for we must....it is not enough now to simply make off with us all....the Emperor's men are gathering for a last stand at the coast....it falls to us to find a way to deal the Nilroggi a mighty blow such that what remains of the Legions have a chance against them....by the Goddess I wish there were more time."
Merwynn cleared his throat again. "M'lady....we have already begun deciphering the tome as we have been traveling...." She waited a moment to see if he would continue unasked.
When he did not, she said, "Well, out with it man! The Nilroggi approach with haste, in case you have forgotten!"
"There is a spell, but we dare not wield it...."
"You dare not wield it."
He nodded.
"Tell me."
"It....it is known simply as "God's Teeth."
"Her eyes narrowed. It was a common enough oath or curse, but a spell bearing that same name?
"I have heard of this incantation not at all."
"Nor we, until the reading of this tome....but it is...."
"Yes yes....with a name like that, I would imagine it is not to be wielded lightly, but there is no time. Our doom awaits us not far from here....show me."
She crouched in the wagon with them, and then huddled together as Merwynn opened the dreaded tome.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Lightning flickered between the brooding, heavy clouds that hung overhead like a funeral shroud. Lady Dierdranna took in both the sight, and the underlying meaning before shaking it off as best she could and moving toward the head of the column where she knew she could find Arliss.
~~Ж§Ж~~
A Short While Later
Arliss' eyes narrowed, and she knew what he was about to say.
"I know you don't like it." She told him before he could speak. "I know it runs against the grain of everything you believe in, but Arliss....Father....what other choice have we? If we run, we may well elude the Nilroggi, but what of the Emperor's men? Their numbers have no chance against the Horde."
The lines of pain and indecision were almost etched into his face, and he opened his mouth to speak, but could not find the words.
She put a comforting hand on his arm. "You are a good man....a good leader, but it is clear that something must be done if the Horde is to be stopped. We have in our possession the power to make a stand....let us."
"My...faith...." He said weakly.
"Father, the very worst that could happen would be that my fellow Wizards and I die in the effort, and if we do, there may still be time to make your escape...and you'll not have to worry about us corrupting your flock."
"You would....sacrifice yourself for those who hate you?...That's a surprisingly charitable virtue for a witch."
She smiled at him. "I think if you would but study us and our ways you would find that we are not so different....and yes. The Nilroggi are a problem for us all. It is a sacrifice we stand ready to make if needs be, but Father...the need is immediate, if we are to do this...the need and the time, is now."
He considered for a long moment, then cast his eyes to the ground and sighed heavily. "Yes." He whispered. "Though this is far too much for one old man to bear."
Lady Dierdranna touched his weathered, balding head in a gentle, soothing caress. "Rest for a time, Father....if this does not work, then your people will need you at your very best if any are to survive."
In a quiet flash that drew no reaction from the priest this time, she vanished.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Thunder Hill
Before the golden light of the outline of her image had disappeared fully in one place, she reappeared in another, and less than a foot from McDougil who was leading his horse toward the crest of the rise.
He gasped, stepped back clumsily to avoid colliding with her, lost his footing and fell with a loud gasp, which echoed and rumbled all through the place. "Wha...Who in the name of...."
"Lady Dierdranna, at your service." She said with a smile as she extended a hand and helped him to his feet. "I have come to rally your forces and have them begin making for the refugees....I can sketch out the path that will lead you to them."
"Has there been some change in plan then? We were initially to...."
"Aye....a significant change....we now have the opportunity to deal the Horde a mighty blow. Should we succeed, we do not want to inadvertently kill our finest warriors, and should we fail...." She did not finish the thought, but McDougil nodded in understanding nonetheless.
"And, thanks to the uncanny acoustics of this place, rallying the men back to here should be an easy task."
"Aye.....it shall be indeed." McDougil said with a grin as he took in a deep breath and bellowed out a return order to the Free Company.
The sounds of it crashed almost forever through the valley surrounding the hill, fading with stubborn reluctance, and leaving no doubt that the message had been received. A slightly fainter answering cry was heard in the midst of the order's echo.
With the sounds of men's hoarse voices crashing all around her, she surveyed the camp. "You have wounded."
"Indeed....Duncan Fury's men were the first out....too many were lost, and many of those that returned are in no shape for further fighting."
As if summoned by the sound of his name, the wily Cavalryman appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sword not drawn, but loosed in its scabbard as his eyes measured the Witching woman in their midst.
"I mean you and yours no harm, Duncan Fury." She told him plainly, taking him in as well, and impressed that his approach had even eluded her Eldritch senses. A rare man indeed.
She was about to smile approvingly when her eyes were drawn to the discoloration of his black cloak, and the way it clung to his left side.
Blood.
"You have been injured....how bad is it?" She motioned toward the covered wound and Duncan winced, an almost guilty look crossing over his face. A handsome face, in a rugged, no-nonsense way, she noted.
"Many of my men did not return home at all...my wounds are of scant concern to me until this dark business is concluded."
"You are a leader of men, Duncan Fury....let me help you, for it is within my power to do so....if your wounds do not receive attention, you will be too weak to do what you were born for."
He shook his head and their eyes met. "First, to business. Tell me how you have come to our encampment, and why a recall order was just issued to the Free Company. Then...time permitting, I have men who need more medical attention than I."
She smiled at his stubborn determination, drew in a breath, and began to speak of her plan.
~~Ж§Ж~~
It was a hastily concocted plan, that much was true. Held together by fraying nerves and odd bits of magic. Fear ran through the ragged human horde like a living current, and not far off, the scrabbling sounds of the approaching Nilroggi host (with such vast numbers that they dwarfed the humans by a factor of so many that it boggled the mind) were steadily growing louder.
For their part, the humans had arranged themselves in the best way they could, Arliss leading the refugees through what amounted to a ribbon-like valley that ran between two craggy, difficult-to-navigate hills. The tattered remains of Duncan Fury’s command, The Free Company, and McDougil’s men were lined up stoically at the mouth of
the valley, determined to buy what time they could for the Wizards to do…whatever it was that they were planning.
And speaking of the Wizards….stationed behind the wall of human flesh by some forty yards, standing in a circle with Lady Dierdranna at its center, holding the large, strangely menacing-looking tome that seemed almost alive with power.
Above and behind her by a few feet were a pair of globes floating in the air. Perhaps a dozen feet off the ground and two feet in diameter, the globes were their “eyes” that let them see places normally hid from their view. The first showed Lady Dierdranna’s own small band of refugees, still moving toward them, but still quite far away.
The second was placed perhaps half a league east of the mouth of the valley the refugees were moving through, in an attempt to keep watch on the progress of the approaching Nilroggi. Already, they were quite close, and would soon be passing directly under Dierdranna’s seeing-eye. It would not be long now.
“Are we ready?” Dierdranna asked the scholars surrounding her. They were, as a single body, too terrified to speak, but they nodded at her in turn.
She nodded back and smiled what she hoped was a confident smile, wondering vaguely how many of them would survive this spell. Then it occurred to her that if they failed, it wouldn’t matter, for surely none would survive the wave of Nilroggi.
She opened the Tome, took a moment to find the dreaded Incantation, and began to speak in the language of the Witching Folk.
~~Ж§Ж~~
At the Mouth of the Valley
Duncan strode up and down the line, inspecting the men. How long ago had it been when the men who came to him were simple villagers? Men with no fighting experience at all?
Gods, it seemed like forever, but surely it had only been hours….days at best. He couldn’t remember. But now, standing before him, shoulder to shoulder, blocking as much of the mouth of the valley as they could with their bodies, were soldiers.
Brave, valiant soldiers….poorly armed, many injured, tired beyond reason. Yet standing.
Defiant.
He could not have been more proud of them.
“We will probably all die today.” He told them simply. No point in sugar coating it. Not in the eleventh hour, outnumbered a thousand or more to one.
No one spoke, but he also noted that no one flinched, either.
“Yes….we will probably all die today, but…we will die on our feet, and as free men.”
Nods from the line.
“Our mission….the only thing that is important at this point, is that we keep the horde from breaching the line and reaching the Wizards until they have completed whatever magic they think can save us….we give them time to do what they do, by doing what we do….questions?”
There were none, and after a lingering moment, Duncan nodded. “Fight well. Die well, my brothers.” He whispered, and then drew his own blade and stood with them in the line. It was all over but the waiting.
~~Ж§Ж~~
From the moment that the Lady Dierdranna began reading from the Tome, invoking the dreaded spell known only as “God’s Teeth” things began to swirl and change.
The air around them filled up with crackling intensity and energy. So much so that the hair on everyone’s arms began standing on end. You could smell the energy and power building up….almost hear the humming coming from the earth itself as the Witching Ones spoke words of power that had remained unspoken for centuries…and longer.
But through the mists of time, a huge, unseen beast marched closer…drawn by the sounds of those words. It was vast. So vast that it defied comprehension by mere human minds. But she could feel it.
They could all feel it. And even before the spell was a third complete, she knew there would be no controlling it. Even now, so early into the incantation, it was all they could to do wrestle with it….clumsily guiding it with their feeble efforts, and hoping to for the best. Still, she kept the circle intact, kept her aids focused on her as best she could, and wrestled with a power as old as time itself.
~~Ж§Ж~~
The Nilroggi burst over the low rise just east of them, and paused for a moment…made unsure by a pair of things.
First, was the fact that the wily humans had stopped running. For weeks they’d chased them across the plains, hunting down odd bands and rooting out scattered pockets of resistance, and always it was the same.
Outnumbered humans ran. They performed hit-and-run attacks to preserve what numbers they had. These humans were…different. Soldiers standing in a thin line at the mouth of a valley, defiant.
That would not do.
And behind that frail line of flesh, the ground and air swam with the magical energies, and the Nilroggi were wary. They had no Witching Folk of their own, so Eldritch Powers were terrifying to them, and these…these were greater than anything they had ever sensed.
Still, their numbers were beyond counting, and they had bested the humans at every turn using that very advantage, so after a momentary pause, the assembled horde let out a series of strange chittering sounds and screeches that must have been the equivalent of a blood curdling Nilroggi battle cry loud. Whatever it was, it was loud enough to threaten to crack heaven itself open, and before it had fully died away, the whole of the Horde surged forward. It would not be long now.
~~Ж§Ж~~
McDougil, who’s job it was to monitor Deirdranna’s refugees till the last minute and then take to the line the moment the Nilroggi drew near, cursed at the report.
“Freak storm, you say?” He shouted louder than he needed to into the mysterious floating globe. “Got the wagons bogged down?”
“Yes,” Dierdranna’s hand maiden informed him. “The menfolk have remained with the wagons to get them unstuck, and sent the women on ahead…I am leading them…I fear that the storm swept up on us was caused by the strange magicks contained in the Tome our Lady wields.”
“I fear you are right.” McDougil muttered. “Well…keep me informed…but know that if this doesn’t work, then you are all walking into a death camp.”
The HandMaiden answered back a sad, meaningful nod.
~~Ж§Ж~~
As the incantation neared its completion, a strange, hot wind with no source swirled around the Wizards….a vortex of power forming up directly over the head of the Lady Dierdranna. Each word she spoke became harder to speak than the last, as though the whirlwind above her was leeching the life and magic from her…channeling it.
Focusing it. Directing.
Beads of sweat popped out on her forehead, and the veins in her delicate neck bulged with the effort as she continued to march toward the end of the incantation, drawing so much strength from the Scholarly Wizards around her that three of them were doubled over in pain…barely standing at all, and all of them were pale and drawn as their essence fed into her.
Finally, the last word was uttered, and silence roared into the valley almost deafeningly.
Half a heartbeat later, a drum sounded. But…not a drum…something though. From deep inside the earth. Deep enough and loud enough to make the ground itself tremble
slightly, as though some titan had awakened far off, and was making his way here.
After the second beat, a light began forming at Dierdranna’s feet, expanding and enveloping her with each succeeding beat.
“What have we unleashed….?” She whispered. One thing she knew for certain…they would all find out soon enough.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Several of the men chanced glances back toward the wizards when the mysterious beating sound began.
“Eyes front!” Duncan hissed. “Keep your mind on your business, men!”
All eyes snapped back to the front, to take in the sight of the approaching horde.
“Sounds like the heartbeat of the earth itself.” Armando whispered as he leaned closer to Duncan.
“Aye.” Came the hoarse, whispered reply.
~~Ж§Ж~~
It took her the span of several heartbeats to decipher what the wizards around her were mouthing in unison.
“c….can’t….ho…ld….it….” Over and over again. And they couldn’t. She couldn’t. This was folly, and they would all die here.
The light that surrounded her had coalesced into the most extraordinary shape. A man, fine and proud and strong…with ancient eyes. She recognized him from legend.
“You.” She whispered.
If he heard, he ignored her, save for the fact that he floated above her now and connected himself to her and the others in a chain of unbroken magical energy.
The earth’s heartbeat sounded again…louder now, and the legendary Eldritch Master began channeling the life force of all those in their circle into himself, and then into the earth direct.
She felt herself dying. All the wizards felt themselves dying, but the Titan was being awakened. Another heartbeat, this one loud enough to rattle them all where they stood and threaten to knock them off their feet.
Then another, even more powerful than the last. She felt as though her teeth were being rattled right out of her head.
Another, and she heard several hundred refugees cry out in terror. It was almost upon them. And so were the Nilroggi. They would be too late. She squinted and looked toward the frail line of human flesh and muscle and bone, watching to see how easily they were washed away. Shedding tears for the men who would die in mere seconds.
Another heartbeat, this one so powerful that it seemed to sway and stall the Nilroggi advance for half a second, and then…
...Impact.
The crunch of body against body as Nilroggi and human met in battle and blood.
Amazingly, the line held. With a mighty heave, and at the direction of Duncan Fury, the defenders threw the weight of the Horde off of their lances and the survivors braced for another charge.
Another heartbeat, and more cries of terror. She tried not to think about how many men had just died. Vaguely, in a dream, she wondered if Duncan himself had survived, and then she saw a flash of flowing black as he hacked off the arm of a Nilrog who had tried to sweep around him.
She smiled, weakening further still…the life fading and gone from her…leeching into the demanding earth. He was a good man.
A fine, strong….
Blackness.
~~Ж§Ж~~
“Hold the line, damn your hides!” Duncan snarled! “Can you not hear the beast awakening behind us!?”
The Nilroggi charged. The line braced for impact as a single, living thing. And held back a second charge.
Again, with a heave, Duncan’s men threw them back. And the Nilroggi were amazed.
Never had they faced such stubborn determination. The humans now numbered less than sixty, and yet they would not yield. In fact, the Horde simply could not brush them aside. It defied reason! Defied…everything.
Furious, they prepared another charge. “Gods be with us.” Duncan whispered as they surged forward again.
~~Ж§Ж~~
The laughter seemed to erupt from the earth and sky at the same time…from everywhere at once.
It was deep and brassy and rumbling, and by itself, it stalled the Nilroggi advance mere feet from the remnants of Duncan’s line. The wily soldier wasted no time in taking advantage of the enemy’s distraction, and began carving a hole into the endless horde of creatures. His men joined him seconds later.
Soon, the laughter was replaced by a rushing sound. A waterfall, but…thicker. Heavier. The ground trembled and shook. Steam vents suddenly opened up all around them.
Pockets of earth began shaking loose and separating. It was all madness and chaos. The earth itself seemed to be coming to life.
Then, a series of sharp, barking explosions which cast an impenetrable cloud of black dust and dirt into the air. The shaking continued to intensify, but now it was quite impossible to see what was happening around them.
In truth, it was quite impossible to see what was happening mere feet in front of them, much less anywhere else. In the distance, he heard the collective wail of a thousand thousand terrified Nilroggi, and then that sound was simply washed away by the rumbling of the earth.
Everything was washed away by that sound, until nothing else remained. There was only the angry titan.
The earth itself.
God’s teeth.
~~Ж§Ж~~
An Unknown time Later
Duncan picked himself up painfully and dusted himself off. Coughed twice and rubbed his eyes. Everything hurt. That which does not kill me makes me....really achy and sore. He thought sourly.
Another cough off to his right.
“Armando?”
“’tis I…I think.” He mumbled as he tried to stand. Duncan helped him, and then helped dust him off. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the thick dust that floated everywhere like a fog, and in the midst of it, he detected hints of movement all around.
“Gather up men.” He shouted hoarsely, but the dust seemed to swallow his words. They were barely more than a whisper. “Sound off….and if Nilroggi be near ye, let us know where you are.”
None of his command made any mention of Nilroggi, which was nigh on impossible. There had been so many. What had happened? How long had they been out of their senses? His men would surely ask him these questions, and expect him to know the answers.
Suddenly, he felt very tired.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Forty-Six men remained of his command.
He sighed heavily and fought to hide his tears.
Assuming the Nilroggi didn’t simply finish them when they recovered from their fear of magicks, there would be a great many burials to see to in coming days.
“McDougil, Armando, divide the men by thirds and form search parties. We must determine how many survivors there are, and if there are Nilroggi about. I will keep one patrol with me here to watch this way and guard the Wizards…we must….we must at least try to understand what has happened here.”
“It will be done.” His two Lieutenants answered in unison and they picked their men and departed. For his part, Duncan led his patrol to the spot where he’d last seen the wizards.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Later
It was impossible to tell day from night, the dust was so thick. But as the refugees began banding back together, coalescing back into the family of survivors they had become, the stories began filtering in with them.
Grim stories of unimaginably painful death as the ground swallowed whole families, heroic rescues, sights and visions before the dust cloud obscured everything. Amazing rumors.
And sorrow from the south. Most of the menfolk of Lady Dierdranna’s band had been caught up in the wild magicks unleashed in an effort to save them, and had simply vanished when several impossibly large mountains sprang beneath their feet in an instant.
Those not slain by that were cast into the enormous pit that opened at the base of the new mountains. A wide chasm of unknown depth that swallowed hundred whole.
Already, the refugees had begun referring to those southern mountains as “Widow’s Peaks,” and the great chasm as the “Crevasse of Sorrows.”
In a matter of hours, legends and stories were taking root as the people tried to heal themselves and make sense of the madness they played witness to.
As for the Wizards, three were outright dead, and the rest were unconscious, with no indication if or whether they may awaken again.
Arliss Castillar charged his best Clerics with their care, but even they could give no firm answers. There was simply no way to know.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Approximately Four Days Later
“She’s asking for you.” McDougil said as he clapped Duncan on the back.
“Awake?” He asked in wonder.
“Aye….eyes clear and burning once more.” The big man said as he shook his head.
“You’re a good man, Duncan Fury….staying by her bedside for two solid days.”
The cavalryman blushed. “I’d be by her side now if not for the fact that I’m the best rider we have left, and was needed to scout the north ridge.”
“It is so.” McDougil replied. “Nonetheless, you were the first person she asked to see.”
He broke into a grin and sprinted off toward the tent where they were keeping her.
~~Ж§Ж~~
“Duncan….I….” She didn’t quite know where to begin, and the soldier sat down next to her and took her hand.
“I’m glad to see you awake, M’lady Dierdranna.” She blushed.
“Aye…and thank you for sitting with me while my mind fought its way out of the darkness.”
He sighed. “I was hoping you could feel me here. Hoping my presence made a difference.”
“It did.” She said with a nod. “I focused on the sound of your voice as I made my way back.”
An awkward, but not unpleasant moment of silence between them. “So tell me….what is the latest news. I feel as though I’ve been sleeping forever.”
“Most of the news is not good.” Duncan said as he straightened. She liked the way his voice changed. All business when talking about the safety of the group, and then…softer…more tender, when they spoke quietly between themselves.
“It seems the rumors are true. There around mountains everywhere to the south and east of us, though we do not yet know how far they run, apparently they sprung up right beneath the main body of the Nilroggi horde.”
“Well, instead of sending riders, we can survey the mountains with my magicks now that I am awake.”
“I was so hoping, and refrained from sending out riders for that very reason.” They smiled at each other again.
“As to other news…Armando has signed on formally as a cavalryman, and I’ve divided what remains of my command between myself and McDougil, to give some teeth to the Council of Seven. Each of us now command a company of 23 men. It’s not much of a defense force, I know, but….it’s what we have to work with, and we’re trying to scare up new recruits.”
“No sign of the Nilroggi though?”
“Yes and no.” He told her. “We have skirmished with them, but my guess is that the mountains killed the greater portion of the horde and scattered the rest. They seem to have lost the stomach for battle, and we’ve never seen more than half a dozen or so together…unorganized but terrifying in its way.”
“As always, your bravery serves us all well….” Impulsively, he kissed her, and their smile together grew.
~~Ж§Ж~~
The assembled crowd watched as the images played out on Lady Dierdranna’s globes. She had conjured four “eyes” and sent them out along the major compass points, skimming over the ground and taking in the new terrain.
As she suspected, the magicks had indeed summoned up “God’s Teeth” to do battle on their behalf. And that vast maw had simply devoured much of the horde.
Within hours, the eyes had spun their way out and around them completely, and they had their answer. They were totally surrounded. Hemmed in by a ring of natural-but-unnatural mountains. New, sharp, jagged, upthrusting mountains that had not been worn away by time and nature. Mountains that had no roads, paths, or passes through them.
“Trapped.” Someone said.
“In a way, yes.” Someone else answered, “But better to be trapped here, in a land large enough for us to spread out in, and one without the Nilroggi than to be on the other side of the mountains!” And suddenly, everybody seemed to have something to say about that, one way or another.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Three Hours Later
Arliss stepped into the clearing around which the collected populace had gathered. “Silence! Silence I beg you!” He shouted. In time, the raging debate died down to a simmer, and the Priest could be heard.
“Debating the merits of being here or not solves nothing.” He said simply. “The fact of the matter is that we are here….now, whether that proves to be a blessing or a curse is something that we shall all find out together, but the first, most pressing need we have is that of deciding upon our leadership….we must assume that the Empire is no more, and even if it is still intact, their decrees cannot pierce the veil of the mountains.”
No King.
It was unheard of. A situation that must be remedied at once. But who would be King?
“Arliss Castillar should be King! Him that led us to our salvation!” Someone in the crowd shouted. Many cheered at the nomination.
Many did not. It took Arliss nearly ten minutes to get the crowd quieted again. “Good people…I am honored that many of you would consider me worthy of the job…but there are a number of reasons why I cannot.”
He waited until they had quieted a bit more, and then continued. “First…it is the power of the Church to sanctify and ordain the King we select…to guide and help him, but not to rule outright. The separation between the Church and the power of the King must exist as a point and counter point. Balance and counter balance. To do otherwise….well, suffice it to say that it invites certain dangers that I do not wish to consider, nor invite into our newfound Kingdom. And aside from that, there is the simple matter of my advanced age. We need a young, strong King to lead us.”
Silence all around for what felt like an eternity. “The People should decide.” McDougil said finally. “The Council of Seven was formed by the People, and they should select a list of potential leaders and vote on it.”
“Vote on the King?” A number of people whispered. And as the idea was passed around the group and debated, it was clear that it had some support. The number opposed to it vastly outnumbered the supporters, but it did spark some interesting conversation. At least for a time.
“This will not happen!” Jacob Mourngrym said in a thunderous voice. “The Council of Seven has its uses, there can be no denying, but the will of the People is fickle…mob rule will result if this plan were to be carried out. I will not stand for it!”
“And who are you?” McDougil challenged, his jaw thrust defiantly toward Mourngrym.
“Your better…manchild.” Mourngrym said icily. McDougil took two steps forward and as if by magic, Duncan Fury was there, stepping between the two men. He put a hand on McDougil’s shoulder.
“Brother…don’t. We don’t need this fight.”
“Listen to him.” Mourngrym said with venom.
“Shut up or I’ll slap you in irons!” Duncan told him in a tone that left no room for doubt.
He meant it.
Mourngrym opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it. Diffused.
For now.
Just then, Arliss stepped back into the center. “Ladies and Gentlemen…I would like to propose that Duncan Fury be given your consideration as our King.”
The crowd went wild at the thought. In Duncan they had a steady, reliable hero, and while there were some dissenting voices, they were easily drowned out by the waves of support.
“Fury, Fury, Fury!” It was clear that the crowd loved the idea.
“No!” Came another hiss. Mourngrym again. “This will not be, either, as we will simply trade one form of mob rule for another!” Duncan looked up at the rich man and took two steps forward, and then paused.
This time, he was not alone. Behind him were twenty young men, all dressed in hastily fashioned uniforms, and all carrying bows.
“That’s right.” Mourngrym said in answer to the surprised look on the Cavalryman’s face. “They may not be well trained, but they are well paid and loyal. You did not think I would allow you to be the only force of arms in our band, did you?” Duncan’s men rallied behind him, and the ones who could still ride mounted up.
A hush fell over the clearing as the two men stared…eyes burning.
“Stand down, Lord Mourngrym.” Duncan whispered. “I have no wish or desire to be your King. It is a job I am ill suited for.”
Duncan took a deep breath and addressed the crowd. “Thank you for your support of me…but this is a job I do not want, and cannot do.”
“It is precisely because you do not want it, My Lord Fury, that you would be perfect for it. The Wizards support you.” Dierdranna said softly.
“Aye….the Lady makes sense.” Arliss said in agreement.
“Wench!” Mourngrym hissed angrily. “You and yours belong to me!”
“No.” Dierdranna said in a soft, even tone. “I know of your agreement with the now-dead head of this order. And since the agreement was made with one who is no more, I submit to you that your hold on the Order has weakened considerably.”
Mounrgrym glowered for a moment. “This is not finished between us, woman. I will either have your loyalty or I’ll have my property returned.”
“And we shall talk about that, but later. For now…let us continue addressing the issue at hand.”
Silence reigned for a lingering moment. “I…cannot….and that is my final answer.” Duncan said slowly.
“Then who will lead us?” Someone asked.
A babble of voices broke out and Arliss left the center of the clearing in disgust, shaking his head. While he was away, the volume of the assembled mass as arguments broke out debating the merits of various potential Kings among them.
After several minutes, Arliss returned, one of his younger charges in tow. “It is clear to me that the power groups that have developed in our band during our long journey together have made choosing any one of them an impossibility, so I submit to you that we must look elsewhere. Thus, I present Perrin for your consideration. I have tutored him in the ways of the Church. He is a bright lad, young and strong, and he will need our support and guidance if he is to be the kind of King we all wish him to be. The Church, with I as it’s head here in our new Kingdom, pledge my support to Perrin, as King.”
The boy, no more than sixteen, gaped and looked down at Arliss, who knelt before him. “Father Castillar, I…no….this is….”
He looked around frantically for support. For someone…anyone who might pull him out of the fire he suddenly found himself in.
What he got instead was Duncan Fury striding toward him and kneeling next to Arliss Castillar. He took the boy’s hand and looked up at him. “I pledge my life and my sword to defending your crown and your honor, Majesty. I will sit at your feet and serve you faithfully if you will but guide us.”
McDougil was next. “Aye….the Council of Seven would support the coronation of Perrin as First King.”
Only the Wizards and Mourngrym remained silent, weighing their options. The majority of the powerful in the band of refugees though, had spoken. The future of the Kingdom was held on a stillborn breath, as all waited to see what the others would say.
“The Wizards support the coronation of Perrin. We will assist his rule in any way we can.”
“And you?” Arliss asked in the direction of Mourngrym. “What do you and yours say?”
“Of course we would support Perrin as King.” Mourngrym said in a too-kind voice. “In fact, I will personally provide our new ruler with a treasury to ensure the stability and survival of his realm, and pledge my assistance in any way I can….and I will also be watching you…” He glanced meaningfully at both Duncan Fury and McDougil, “to ensure that our new, young King is not swayed by mob rule or force of arms.”
A lingering moment of silence, broken only by the quiet, confused sobbing of a boy, too young to be king, suddenly thrust in exactly that role by men and women who expected more from him than should ever be expected of children so young.
~~Ж§Ж~~
The coronation was a quiet, solemn affair, and the Kingdom had it’s First King before it even had a proper name. As the ceremony ended, and as King Perrin’s first official act, his eyes sought out Armando, and summoned him forth. “You and your Free Folk have served side by side with us tirelessly, and yet, I know that our ways are very different from yours.”
“That is so, My King.” Armando said quietly as he knelt before the First King.
“You have bled with us though, and endured our trials with us….and because of that, I decree that your people will live both together and separate from us. Living too close together with us would destroy who you are, so you shall be as separate as you need to be, in order to preserve the ways of your People.”
Armando smiled. “You will make a fine King, Majesty….and you are off to a grand start indeed….The Free Folk pledge their support and friendship to King Perrin.”
He stood and bowed, then leaned in closer. “And Majesty, may I recommend that your second act would be to come up with a name for our new land.”
Perrin blushed and just then, something caught his eye.
Torches in the distance.
It seemed that Lady Dierdranna’s band had finally arrived to join their number.
“They look like tiny candles in the darkness.” The King whispered.
“Master Armando,” he asked more loudly. “What is the word in Free-Folk Speak for Strength….Courage?
“I think I know what you’re asking, my King, and that word would be ‘Bre.’”
“Then our new home shall be called Candle’Bre….may we, each of us, strive to be as a candle in the darkness. Pushing the shadows away. Pillars of strength and honor….and should the day come that danger threatens us and ours as it did the Empire which spawned us, may we remember this day, and our long journey.”
And so was the Kingdom born.
~~Ж§Ж~~
FINIS
