Seeker (The Source Chronicles Book 1) (38 page)

Chapter 29

Not long after nightfall, with the moon Aelunae nearly full and I’lunae nearly eclipsed with the approaching solstice, the remaining forces of the Falcon Raiders and their new allies, group by group, began arriving at Tarmollo. 

The three Barons had brought nearly three-hundred soldiers, in addition to Lyrra-Sharron’s force of nearly five-hundred.  A formidable group to be certain.

              The Barons met privately for a time.  Lyrra-Sharron, though still suspicious of them, allowed this.  It was obvious that Baron Tilroan was the primary instigator among them.  In the interest of good faith, she allowed the three nobles to hold a conference. 

Each of their contingents of guards were camped slightly apart from the Falcon Raiders, and there was little or no conversation or interaction between them all. 

During the course of the day, weapons were made ready, cleaned and prepared.  Falcon Raiders trained and exercised while the Barons’ Guardsmen watched, clearly showing their astonishment with the proficiencies they found among the Raiders.  Horses were re-shod.  Travel food was prepared.  Strategies were laid out, evaluated and changed by Lyrra-Sharron, Dak, Nadav, Torman, Barons Foltupp, Dovan and Tilroan, Andim and Kallan.  Fighting was anticipated.  Dak was convinced there was some sort of trap laid out, waiting for the Falcon Raiders to spring it.

Dak found time to speak to Lyrra-Sharron alone.  He expressed his concern over the troops he and his people had observed marching.

“I think we move too abruptly,” stated Dak without preamble.  “There were a lot of troops moving to the border.  Something major is afoot here.”

“How does this affect our plans?” questioned Lyrra-Sharron, unable to hide the irritation in her voice.

Dak remained firm.  “If Sharron and Medaelia are headed for a major conflict of some sort, now might not be the time for us to move against your Father.”

“That may actually make now the perfect time to move against him,” replied Lyrra-Sharron adamantly.

“I don’t agree.  The last thing the army needs is a change of command during a conflict.”

“I would not change command of the army in the middle of a fight,” argued Lyrra-Sharron.  “I am not ignorant of military strategy, Dak Amviir.”

“I’m aware, Lyrra-Sharron,” remarked Dak.  “But look at the bigger picture here.  Your father, as King, is the actual commander-in-chief of the Sharron Army.  Altering that could be disastrous.”

“You do not think I am as good a strategist and military commander as my father?” asked Lyrra-Sharron, unable to hide a trace of anger brewing in her voice.

Dak shook his head.  “I’m saying it might not be good for the morale of the Sharron Army to have a change in the heat of conflict.  The turmoil that could ensue might be more harm than good.”

He paused, took a breath, and continued.  “I think we need to re-evaluate our situation.  We need to send scouts to the border, query your sources in the Common.  Prudence suggests we pause, and see what we can make of the situation.”

Lyrra-Sharron walked away haughtily.   This was the last person she expected to stand against her plan.  She stopped, got hold of herself, and turned, shaking her head.  “We cannot turn away from this now, Dak Amviir.  I have my full strength gathered here, along with three impatient Barons and their men.  I will not deny that you make several good points, and I would take them under consideration.”

She stepped up to him now, gazed thoughtfully into his eyes.  “But I cannot stop this now, Dak.  I am too close.  I can handle whatever conflict is brewing on the border.  I will not chance losing the Barons.  I do not want to risk this entire operation by remaining immobile here.  The time is now.  The Crown is nearly mine!  It is time to finish this!”

Dak bowed his head, not willing to return Lyrra-Sharron’s gaze.  “I follow where you lead, Lyrra-Sharron.  I trust you.”

She reached up, touched his cheek.  He reacted with alarm.  He jerked back, stepped away.

“I have things to see to,” he said, clearly uncomfortable.  “We’ll speak again, your Highness.” He bowed and swiftly left the tent before Lyrra-Sharron could say more.

In the afternoon, Nadav and Torman approached Lyrra-Sharron together.  Their argument was surprisingly similar to Dak’s.  The Princess heard them out, but her annoyance at their impertinence reached the point where she finally cut them off
.

“My decision is made,” she concluded ominously.  “I shall hear no more dissent from my officers.  We stay together on this, or you leave right now!  Are you with me?”

Torman and Nadav exchanged a look, and each replied, “I am with you, Lyrra-Sharron.”

“Good.  You have duties to attend to.  You are both dismissed.”

The bowed slightly, and departed quickly.

By nightfall, all was ready.  They would strike the encampment and move before dawn.  Lyrra-Sharron demanded that they prepare early to rest.  She planned to reach the outskirts of Mintarn tomorrow night, and move on the town the following morning. 

An hour after sunset, Lyrra-Sharron gathered her leadership in the main pavilion.  Present were Dak, Torman, Nadav, Andim, Kallan, Barons Dovan, Foltupp and Tilroan, Neva Alcarra, Darak, Varnon, Torra, Delann and Mikar.  The central table had a large map of the region laid out, and many lanterns hung down, illuminating the pavilion.  They were going over final plans.

“Lastly, Torman will lead the rearguard.  Darak, Neva, you are his lieutenants.  Baron Foltupp, you and your soldiers are with the rearguard.”

“As you say, Princess,” replied the Baron.

“You have your assignments.  We meet again tomorrow night.  We will meet at my encampment.  Questions?”

“Opposition?” asked Dak.

“Take them out, but quietly,” replied Lyrra-Sharron.  “The camps are close to one another, so if one is attacked, the other can respond.  I know, Dak, that you believe there to be a trap in place for us.  I am taking precautions to be ready for such.”

“Is there no way to put more of your Falcon Raiders on horseback?” questioned Baron Tilroan, a pipe in his mouth.  “So many on foot are slowing this down.”

“We have what we have, Baron,” remarked Lyrra-Sharron sharply.  “We make do with what we have got.  Alright.  We are ready.”

A young raider came into the tent, and bowed to everyone present.  Lyrra-Sharron was loathe to recognize him, as he was a new recruit of Torman’s, just arrived.  He’d been on duty outside the pavilion.

“
Princess, my lords, ladies,” he continued to bow, clearly taken aback by those here.  He rambled quickly.  “The road guards have brought someone to you, that is, this man came to us, and he had all these things to say, and he claimed that you would know and understand, and…”

“Who is it, Gallgon?” interrupted Torman.

Gallgon froze a moment, realizing he’d not said.  “A friend.”

“Who?” asked Lyrra-Sharron, not showing any tolerance for the interruption.

The young man bowed again, almost fitfully.  He pulled back the entrance flap, and in walked Cam Murtallan, followed by a tall, cloaked man, a hood obscuring his features.

“Cam,” Lyrra-Sharron breathed.

“Hello, Lyrra-Sharron.”

*****

             
“That will be all, Gallgon,” ordered Lyrra-Sharron, not taking her eyes off of Cam or the man behind him.

The young raider bowed, and hurriedly left the pavilion.

“Welcome back, Cam Murtallan,” said Lyrra-Sharron plainly.  “I had hoped we might see you once again.  We have made a lot of plans in your absence.  Your departure was rather abrupt, and you bid farewell to no one.  Where have you been?”

“I had some thinking to do,” replied Cam, crossing his arms.  “I had a few...revelations.  I had to go.  I wanted to return to you sooner, but things took longer than I expected.”

“Why have you come back?” asked Dak, stepping behind Lyrra-Sharron.

“Who is this?” queried Baron Tilroan with obvious irritation.

“He is one of my lieutenants,” Lyrra-Sharron responded, glancing towards the Baron briefly, then returning her gaze to the Sorcerer.  “Answer the question, Cam Murtallan.  Why have you come back?”

“I have come back to help you,” replied Cam.

“To finish what we started?  You come with us to Mintarn?” pressed Lyrra-Sharron.

Cam shook his head.  “No.  I’m here to stop you from making a terrible mistake, and to save Sharron.”

Lyrra-Sharron barked a short, mirthless laugh.  “You want to save Sharron?  So do I.  My plan is in motion.  You know nothing of our laws or customs, save what I have told you, and you think I am about to make a mistake?  I gather your ‘revelation’ involved a return of your previous arrogance, then.  Just how would you think to stop me? ”

“I’d hoped to simply talk you out of this,” said Cam calmly.

“You know what is at stake here.  Do not waste your breath, Cam Murtallan.  There is no more time.  My mind is made up,” replied Lyrra-Sharron angrily.

“It’s that important to you that you be Queen?” asked Cam.  “Are you not aware of the danger looming over everything you have built here?  Don’t you care about this Kingdom you so desperately want to rule?”

“Who is your silent friend, Cam?” interrupted Dak, before Lyrra-Sharron could respond.

Cam twisted around, and inclined his head towards the cloaked man.

He reached up, and drew back his hood.

A collective gasp arose amongst all assembled.

“Varlock-Sharron!” hissed Baron Tilroan.

The King just stood there, and simply looked from one face to another, as though committing them to memory, and plotting how they’d die for their treason.

Weapons were drawn, but Cam stepped between them and the King.

“You will not harm the King,” stated Cam sharply.  “He is here under my protection.”

“Step away, Cam Murtallan,” threatened Torman, a knife in hand.

“No,” replied Cam calmly.  “This has to end, before matters get further out of hand.  There is even more at stake than any of you realize.  There are things you need to know, and only his Majesty can explain them properly.  I have brought him here to do just that.  You’ll have to kill me to get to the King.  I will not let that happen.”

“You have what you lost back, then, Cam Murtallan?” queried Lyrra-Sharron, wonder mixing with the anger in her voice.

Cam simply nodded his head.

“I see.  Well, father, why are you here?” asked Lyrra-Sharron, placing her hands on her hips addressing the King callously.

“I have come at the behest of Cam Murtallan, to speak with you directly,” replied Varlock-Sharron.

“To what end, father?” asked Lyrra-Sharron acidly.  “Do you plan to give me the crown, avoid embarrassment and bloodshed?”

“To avoid bloodshed, yes,” responded the King plainly.  “But the crown...no, my daughter.  I wear the crown, still.  Your time is not now.”

“Leave, then, Father,” stated Lyrra-Sharron.  “I am ready to present myself to the Common.  They have called me to account.  You cannot stop that.”

“They called you to account at my insistence,” Varlock-Sharron informed her.  “It is a trap I have set for you, Princess.  This has gone far enough.  You are tearing Sharron apart.  Our enemies have noticed this.  The Medaelians are about to invade.  I will not fight a war on two fronts.  If you go to Mintarn...one way, or the other...you will die.”

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the pavilion.

Lyrra-Sharron quietly, tentatively broke the tension.  “You...you would have me killed?”

Varlock-Sharron simply bowed his head, never taking his eyes off her.

“Of course, why should I be surprised?” snapped Lyrra-Sharron darkly.  “You killed my brother, my sister, my mother…kill me, and the annihilation of your family by your own hand is complete.”

Varlock-Sharron shook his head.  “I am not this murderous monster you have painted me to be, Lyrra-Sharron.  Their deaths are not my fault.”

“You dare to not take the responsibility for their deaths?” demanded Lyrra-Sharron, clenching her fists.  “Who killed them, if not you?  But then, your family has always been of far less importance than your crown, has it not?  You would so easily dismiss my life as well, have me killed?”

“My daughter, I did not want to bring it to an end such as this,” the King informed her.  “But you have left me with no choice.  Three of my Barons come to you, disobeying a command of Royal Commission, as well as soldiers and ex-soldiers, disenchanted nobles, farmers, merchants.  You have touched every walk of life.  I know what you tell them.  I know what you say of me.”

Varlock-Sharron shook his head.   “If you continue this path, Sharron will fall to civil-war and strife, and the Medaelians will watch, and when we are weakest, they will strike.  They will not only take the Vann Region back, but they will do everything they can to destroy the Kingdom entirely.  The agents of chaos will score a victory that could echo across the world.”

“Give over the crown, then, father, and I will see to the end of this.”

Varlock-Sharron shook his head again.  “You will be a great Queen, I doubt that not.  You have prepared all your life for it.  But this is not your time.”