Authors: Andrew Wood
The youngsters made their way up the flights of stairs, up on to the top floor, before knocking at the door. Two big Royal guards stood motionless either side, but neither moved to stop them. After hearing they were to enter, they went inside and stood before the King's desk. General Skalton was there, stood beside the king, and the two were perusing over a number of detailed manoeuvres written out on bits of paper.
Dane and Levin stood, silently waiting until such time they were asked to speak. It was the king who looked up first, "Hello Levin, tell me of this arrow head of yours. Thomas tells me your father used to make it for some people who hunted bears." Levin nodded, "Yes your majesty. They say one good well placed shot with the arrow could down a large bear." He turned his attention to Dane, and from under his desk revealed a sample arrow, then passed it to him. General Skalton leaned over to talk quietly to the king, but the others could hear, "this is Dane your majesty. The young man responsible for these," he pointed to the notes on the table.
Caldar looked up again, "Dane, you think one these arrows would take an Orlac down." The young recruit run his fingers along the shaft of the arrow, and felt the weight. "No your majesty, but I did see the damage these things did at the trials this morning." A silence came, before Dane realised they were still waiting for him to continue, "I have heard your majesty has fought Orlacs himself, and knows only too well how ineffectual normal arrows can be." Caldar nodded, "so you do not think using these would help. I myself always preferred a sword to a bow." Dane spoke again, "I am not saying they would not help your majesty, just that I do not think one shot would down a beast, unless it was a lucky one. Judging by the size of the hole these things create, maybe two or three to help incapacitate one, at least it could then be killed by other means."
The two youngsters were asked their opinions, and though most of it was aimed at Dane, Levin was allowed input. How bizarre it appeared, that the King and his General sort council and opinion off a fourteen-year-old boy and a seventeen-year-old recruit. Such was the case, that few had fought Orlacs, it had come to this. After about half an hour, King Caldar placed his palms down on to the tabletop and stood, "well Thomas, I must admit I am still not certain, though I am willing for you to try. Collate your best men, and have them ready."
The General nodded, "thank you your majesty. Thank you boys you may resume to whatever you were doing," he said turning his attention to Levin and Dane. The two saluted and walked out of the office, "You want a lift back out to the training grounds Dane?" Levin asked. Dane shook his head, "no thank you, I'll be fine. Besides if I walk, it means it takes me longer to get back to training," he added, before realising Levin had been the one adopted by Jak. The two smiled, and Levin patted him on the back, "don't worry I won't tell him. Mind if I walk part of the way with you?" Dane did not mind at all, and the two walked down the stairs, "Patrick has improved," he said. Dane nodded, "I think he and Camden are probably the best amongst us with a sword."
Levin mentioned to him, how he had struggled to contain Patrick when they had fought a little earlier. In fact, he surmised that had the bout continued much longer, Patrick could well have bettered him." Dane laughed, "You sound as if that is something bad. You are what, Fourteen? And can not only better most of us, but match the best." That did make Levin feel a little better, he had thought perhaps he was not as good as he first perceived. When put like that he supposed it did not sound too bad. In the keep yard, the two said their farewells and went their separate ways, Dane back to his training and Levin to the spot him and Jak shared amongst the temporary builds.
As a treat for being good of late, Sarena and Taylor joined Luken for a stroll out to the riverside. It was time for him to resume lessons, with his least favourite of people, Father Dagon. As usual, he had guards front and rear, and Taylor was content to hold his mums hand. As much as Luken knew it was good those two bonded, he also would be first to admit, he was a little jealous. They had for so long gotten used to it just being father and son, and now he realised how Taylor must have felt, when Sarena was added to the equation.
They found Father Dagon already waiting, and despite the look he gave, clearly not approving of the others being present, he stayed silent. Sarena and Taylor stayed back a little, as an attempt not to impose on Luken's tutorage. "I have been in consultation with Sandred, and he wants us to attempt something new." Luken just nodded, and though he thought this was likely to end in disaster, kept it to himself.
Dagon explained how previously Luken had controlled a random amount of fire or one of the other elements, now he was to intensify them. Rather than have a huge fire roaring here, there and everywhere, he was to minimise it. In doing so, this would make it more intense, and therefore burn much hotter. He wanted Luken to imagine it as a beam of light, though instead it needed to be of fire. "Think of it as a burning hot ray of sun," Dagon told him.
He thought that he understood what he was trying to explain to him, and so set his mind to work. The old man produced a candle and from that single flame, he was to materialise an extreme force of fire. The first attempt saw him nearly burn Dagons eyebrows off, much to the amusement of Taylor, who sat a short distance away laughing. "Boy, if you cannot concentrate I will ask you tell that pair to go elsewhere," he scowled.
Luken gave him a stern stare, "they will stay Dagon. I am sorry for nearly setting you on fire, but don't go blaming them." He concentrated again, and the flame from the candle widened, and soared up, twisting as he had done to show off his skills to Prince Issac of Murati. The flames were some ten feet high and hovered a few inches from the grass below, and twisted and spun like a vortex. "No. No. No, you are not listening. When did I teach you to do that?" Dagon scolded him.
"I taught it myself; good do you not think so?" he said innocently. Dagon stared stony faced, "No. I do not. I did not ask you to start teaching yourself, did I? Suddenly you are an expert perhaps. Well fine if you want to go it alone then do so." With that Dagon, stood and started walking away, leaving them at the river and heading for the main track to the city.
Luken was angry, this man was simply intolerable, no matter what he did, it appeared to be wrong. "Dagon, where are you going?" he shouted after the old man. He was ignored, and that made his blood boil, he flicked his hand and the old man was stopped in his tracks. A wall of invisible solidity slowly pushed the old man back to the prince.
Luken was going to give him a piece of his mind. He stood and faced the old man, "you are the rudest, most miserable person I have ever met. I try to do what you ask, and no matter what I do, you make snide remarks." Dagon looked at him, "Have you finished boy? I will tell Sandred I will not teach you anymore." Luken just shouted some more, "good, and to be honest you have not really been teaching me anyway. We always end up arguing because you are so impossible."
The two stared each other down, "Fine boy, have it your way. Next time you nearly kill yourself, do not come running to me." Luken shook his head, this man was simply just plain horrible, "you know what Dagon; I really do not care anymore. Tell this bloody Sandred what the hell you like, I will teach myself. If I kill myself doing so, then that is your failing not mine."
This time Luken let the old man trundle off, and was still very angry. So much so, he sent a huge jet of flames across the surface of the river, causing a huge cloud of steam to fly up. He followed that by thumping his fist, and caused the entire area to shake. Sarena quickly stood, noticing the guards were starting to get concerned. They were after all, under orders from Luken himself, to render him unconscious should he appear to be losing control.
She wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him, "calm down dear," she whispered. He felt his rage disperse, "that man makes my blood boil." She held him, and Taylor came over, "whoa dad, did you see all that steam." If there was one person who loved every little bit of magic Luken did, it was Taylor. "Yes, did you like it," he replied, making out he had done so with that very purpose in mind. His son nodded, "yes, can you do it again."
Chapter 16.
In Bashek, Jared and Kaden stood in front of twenty-three people. All now members of the underground resistance movement that was at last starting to take shape. They would have to be careful it did not grow too big, as that would inevitably draw attention. The last thing they needed was to be raided by a bunch of deranged Darekian troops.
Each member had at least three others vouch for their integrity. That was something else that concerned them. The more members the more likely hood one was not entirely trustworthy. It would only take one wrong careless slip of the tongue by any of them, and they would all be dead.
Not everybody in the group had the job of killing; in fact, barely a dozen did that task. The others were to gather supplies, weapons and food. Some were to just be eyes and ears, out on the street, picking up on any rumour that may prove useful. Plans and notes were made on where the Darekians moved or patrolled, and more importantly where they guarded. They watched and made observations of what times the gates to the city were opened and closed, or when supplies were allowed in and out, in fact, every single detail that may help.
This last week alone had seen them account for a further eight of the guard. Each time they had struck, they made sure the bodies were hidden. As yet, nothing of consequence had resulted from it. Soon though they thought, eventually the Darekians are going to notice there little turn coat army was getting smaller. They knew they would have to be careful not to bring it to their attention.
No further word had been sent to them from Lord Willem. As far as Jared and Kaden were aware, they were still the only two operatives working in Bashek. If by the end of summer they had still not heard, they were to assume the impending attack would not be forth coming. They were then to attempt to sneak back out and return southwards, armed with the knowledge and experiences they had gained. The two had not told those standing before them. As far as they were aware, the liberating army was coming regardless.
They had managed to gather up quite a few weapons. These were mainly swords and daggers, of poor quality taken from the guards they had killed. However, with two of the men having access to the town's armoury, they had managed to very slowly collect a few crossbows, bows and respective ammunition for both. The men thought it best to take little amounts, so as not to cause suspicion, and so far, that philosophy had appeared to work well.
What Kaden needed to know, was that when the South Besemian's came to liberate the city, could the people be relied upon to fight for the cause? It was difficult, because each person could not just go and randomly ask everyone what he or she would do. Each person before them could only estimate the number of people they knew who, should the circumstance arise would join and fight.
The plan would be that once it was clear the liberation was taking place, they were to take up arms. The idea was to make the Darekians fight not only those outside the gates, but those inside as well. In fact, it would be quite likely they would have to take one of the gatehouses, and hold it long enough for the troops to start entering the city.
The question arose, of what to do about the palace. That after all had its own walls and gates. Kaden told them that would depend on where the Darekians decided to make a stand. He assumed they would just fight in the streets, and that they were not the sort to retreat. He did not even think the priest who was running the place would consider trying to flee. Actually, he feared that one person above all others. He was aware, through rumours how Darekian priests could use some derivative of dark magic. Fighting normal troops would be dangerous enough, attempting to engage something he did not understand was something else.
They decided, as the group was now getting bigger, that supplies be distributed to several locations around the city. More as a sort of safety back-up. If one house were discovered, it would not mean they lost everything they had collected. Finally happy they had achieved everything possible from the meeting he told them all to leave. They dispersed, a few at a time, heading off in different directions, to avoid suspicion.
In new Easton, the keep courtyard was bustling with men and horses. The first offensive force was preparing to despatch north of the river. General Skalton had finally persuaded the king to assemble such a group. The unit was made up of twenty infantry, twenty archers all with the new arrows and ten lancers. In addition, travelling with the troops was four of the best trackers known to him. To enable them to move more speedily, they would make use of packhorses instead of wagons. There trip was to track and hunt down any sign of Orlac packs. This first foray was to last seven days, and the General made it clear he wanted to see every man back here in a week.
The line of horses trotted out of the keep yard and down the main street of the city. The loud clattering of hooves on the cobbled stone brought the attention of the large number of people working on the building sites. Many turned to watch the banners of Corlan ride out, making the first step towards retaking the northern lands of their country. The gates of the bridge gatehouse opened for them, as they rode out across the bridge.
Father Dagon sat outside the small tent that had been his home since arriving in New Easton. He had just spoken to Sandred, using the stone pendant. He sat with it still in his bony fingers, and sighed. He had served his Master for most of his life, had done everything that had been asked of him. Now for the first time, he was beginning to question his loyalty. Sandred wished for him to persevere with teaching that idiotic prince. He was not sure he could, things between them had nearly reached tipping point. The boy was insufferable, never listened and had a terrible temper.