The Ebonhoards
The sun was now far
from the world, leaving the sting of winter hanging over the once bright and delightful land.
“Lahonti, send in my son,” King Ruadan said.
"Yes, my sire," Lahonti replied.
He pulled in his wings tight so he could pass through the narrow opening of the war tent. Lahonti hopped a few feet and leapt into the air. His large wings thrust against the ground. He flew over the embattled tents and worn out warriors. The conflict took
many years to escalate, but as of late the reckless Kronos had made its objection to the king's rule manifest. The King Ruadan fell wounded during the last battle. Lahonti spent most of his time caring for him. His health was not improving, which left uneasiness linger over the armada.
"Groargoth, your father the King wishes to speak to you," Lahonti declared.
Groargoth peered up from his plate of roasted meat and glared down his nose.
"I know my father is the King, stupid."
His shiny black eyes penetrated Lahonti’s. He bowed deeply and backed away. Groargoth put his plate down on the stool next to him and stood slowly. Long, black feathers ruffled at the back of his head, and down his neck. Instead of flying, he strode through the camp making sure every warrior saw him.
The gryphton's tried not to make eye contact with him, which angered him. One choked on his ale, and another nearly stumbled as he passed through their camp. Groargoth was an accomplished warrior. However, he lacked the greatest skill to lead a troop of his own, compassion. Groargoth struck his chest plate with his fist as he walked by, enlisting respect.
Groargoth approached the king's tent and gazed into the night sky. The heat of his breath penetrated the cold as he breathed out heavily. A star shot across the three purple moons. He took that as an omen, threw out his chest, pulled his wings in tightly and entered the tent.
"Father, you sent for me?"
"Son, I have a special mission for you, come."
Groargoth bowed his head and knelt before his father's nest. His heart pounded. It was about time that his father saw him for what he was.
"Yes, father."
"Kronos is moving his hoards to the south lands. Take a small hoard and intercept the communication. Find out what he is planning."
"But father, that's a task for a new recruit. Surely you need me for more important matters."
"I have Azrak and his command for that. This is a task befitting to you."
Groargoth lowered his head, the words sank deep into his heart and sliced the very shred of desire he once had for his father’s acceptance. His mind raced through the years of disappointments he felt from his father. The countless times he favored Azrak over him. His anger deepened in his chest and he felt only red hot fury.
"Yes, father."
For an instant the thought echoed through his mind that it would be so easy to kill the old gryphton. The King rested with his eyes closed, on the large padded headboard of his nest like bed. Groargoth jumped as Lahonti nudged through the opening. Groargoth left the tent in a hurry, huffing and pouting as he threw the flap open.
He was determined to show his father he could lead an army, even if that meant he had to take it by force. He kicked a pot of grub over as he stormed by. The warrior jumped to get in his face but Groargoth roared at him. The warrior realized who it was and stopped, glaring at him as he left.
"Lahonti, send Azrak in," the King said.
"Yes sire," Lahonti replied.
Lahonti found Azrak tending his supper.
"Azrak, the King requests your company," Lahonti said.
His brilliant green feathers reflected the fire light as he bowed deeply. Azrak turned and put down the large spoon.
"You don't need to bow to me, Lahonti," Azrak said, picking up his helmet and tucking it under his arm.
"Yes sir," Lahonti replied again, still in a bow.
Azrak knew Lahonti would never stop being a servant. It's in his nature. Azrak walked through the camp of battered, bleeding and broken warriors. They'd attempted to take the north border against the Ebonhoards. Azrak lead his team through the tall grasses. Jaxton and Pontos swarmed in from the east side. They didn’t expect the Ebonhoards to have large weapons that flung fireballs long distances. Helios has seen them in an ancient text that explained the history of their world but had never seen them in real life. The launchers shot fire toward Azrak engulfing the trees and covering the land with smoke. It was hard for them to breath, so they had to move closer to the Ebonhoards.
Azrak tried to make his way to the west. The Ebonhoards had strung woven twine together making a barrier over them. They couldn’t fly away and retreat. Azrak sent warriors to cut through the twine. They had to fight through the oncoming Ebonhoards first. Helios studied the launchers and about mid-day understood how they worked and what it would take to bring them down. He sent several attacks to distract them while, a small group, made their way close enough to hit them with their slings.
Aiming at the line that was strung through the center pole and attached to the bucket, they slung sharpened rocks. The rocks sliced through the rope. The rope gave way half way through the swing and the bucket of flaming tar landed on the Ebonhoards. Fire quickly engulfed the camp. Azrak instructed his armies to flap their wings and make wind to feed the fire. The fire however didn’t seem to take hold. A human figure wearing a bright red cloak, in the back of the camp stood on a tall stand.
Azrak knew about the mages from legend but had never seen one, until today. Azrak sent Brigdon down the center straight for the mage, while he slipped through the burning trees. He covered his beak with cloth as he made his way so that he was behind the stand. He took out his sling and loaded it. He swung with one fast flick and released the stone. It hit the mage in the back. The mage crumpled to the ground. The smoke and fire died down quickly and Azrak retreated his left over forces. They didn’t gain any ground and had suffered much loss.
Warriors bowed or nodded and ruffled their feathers as he walked by. His stern command lead for obedient warriors, but his compassion for them evoked their devotion to him.
Groargoth turned and peered at Azrak. He slipped into the shadows and followed Azrak until he reached his father's tent and went around to the back. Groargoth put his ear on the rear tent wall to listen. Azrak pulled open the tent, and slipped through the door.
"I am here sire," Azrak said, bowing to one knee.
"Come," the King replied.
Azrak stood and walked to the side of his bed. The king lifted his shaky paw and Azrak took it in his.
"It is soon that I must die," the King said softly. Azrak began to interrupt but instead silenced himself. "Azrak, you are the only one I trust with my kingdom. We must not let our people fall into destruction," he said through labored breaths. "I will declare it when you return."
"No, sire, not me." He paused. "What about your son?"
"He is no ruler. He is selfish and cruel. He seeks only to profit himself. He is greedy and is no different than the lesser hoards, seeking only riches. He will destroy our people."
Groargoth stood back, hot anger rose from his chest. He put his ear back to the canvas wall.
“Perhaps a competition, like when there is no heir to select from.”
“Very well then. But first I need you to take your best men and go into the valley of Baymoor. You must find the orb at the Ruins of Basete. It will help us defeat the mages the Ebonhoards now have. I know I can trust only you," the king said slowly coughing weakly.
"But Sire, how do you know this vessel will defeat the mages?”
A green glimmer caught Azrak’s eye. He turned and looked into a round mirror that hung on the wall. He hadn’t seen it before. A sickening feeling shot up his spine. Dread and uncertainty, he wondered why the human mages would care to involve themselves in their battle. Unless there was something the humans wanted from their world. It had been centuries. In fact Azrak didn’t believe they even existed, even when Helios swore that they did. “You are not well. I must stay with you to take care of you."
"No, Lahonti can do that. I need you to return with this vessel as soon as you can. You must hurry," the King said and closed his eyes.
"As you wish, sire. I will leave in the morning."
"No, you must leave now. Take your soldiers and make haste."
"Tonight? But we've just returned. The troops are tired and need rest."
"I know you will be able to succeed, now go."
The mirror seemed to glow a minute more, and Azrak’s heart thudded in his chest.
"Yes, sire." Azrak bowed, ruffling the feathers at the top of his head. Stood up tall and secured his helmet.
Groargoth stood at the back of the tent seething.
How could my father cheat me out of my inheritance? It's just as Kronos said it would happen
. He watched Azrak return to the weary warriors. Groargoth lifted the corner of his mouth in a sneer. A drop of drool fell from the corner as he wet his mouth with the taste of vengeance.
A soft growling gurgle came from the back of his throat. Groargoth summoned two soldiers.
“Gather a hoard, we must find out what the humans want in our land.” Groargoth said.
The soldiers bowed and left quickly.
Maybe if I can find out what they want I can stop them and gain my father’s favor.
Groargoth saw Lahonti over at the supply tent and wondered if he knew anything. Lahonti grabbed a basket of dried meat from the supply tent. But as he pulled open the tent and backed out, hot breath trickled down his back. He carefully turned around. Groargoth stood right in front of him. Lahonti fiddled with the basket to get a better grip.
"Yes, sire, is there something I can do for you?" Lahonti asked.
Groargoth stared at Lahonti, shifting from one eye to the other.
"You're useless and pathetic," Groargoth said and puffed air into Lahonti's face.
With a scowl he stormed off. Lahonti sighed deeply and continued back to the king's tent. He tended to the kings supper and helped him dress for the night. He sat on a bench in the corner of the room thinking.
"What is it, Lahonti?" the king asked.
"Sire, I think maybe you should write a declaration that you desire Azrak to become king." He paused to wait for the king's reaction, "So that there is no doubt in the future."
"Very well," the king said. "Bring me some parchment."
Lahonti pulled a piece of parchment from an old wooden box. The lid, worn at the sides by years of wear as ropes secured it to traveling wagons. The king felt as old as the box looked. It was the first gift he received from his father.
Lahonti placed the parchment on the kings lapboard, gave him a quill and an ink jar. The king barely picked up the quill, dipped it into the ink then made several marks on the parchment, resting every so often to gather his thoughts. Lahonti picked out the official stamp from the box and sat it on the board seeing the king was nearly finished.
"Perhaps you should make a duplicate, sire," Lahonti said.
"You make the duplicate and I will sign it, but I'm tired," the king replied.
"Yes, Sire."
Lahonti had scripted many documents for the king in the past and had become quite good at mimicking his marks. He took the parchment and blew on it, pulled another parchment from the box and scripted a copy. When the ink was dry on the second, Lahonti gave it to the king to sign. He rolled it up and tucked it into the inside pocket of his satchel. It was common for servants to carry thing for their masters and usually wore larger satchels than other gryphton's.
Lahonti returned the quill and ink, stood and stretched his back. He tucked the large blankets in around the sleeping gryphton king. It was late in the night and there was not much light coming from the left over camp fires. The stars had long been twinkling in the night sky, but seemed extra far away.
Lahonti needed to find a place to hide the copy of the declaration.
He knew that if Groargoth found out he would be killed for treason. Groargoth would search his satchel and tent. Night birds hooted in the distance while the soft clicks and chirps of the nocturnal insects softened the cool breeze coming in from the north.
Lahonti scaled a few branches. He leapt down and wove between large sticker bushes. He sniffed the breeze categorizing the scents. After an hour of searching for somewhere to hide the scroll Lahonti was about to return to camp when he spotted a hole in a tree several lengths away. He stretched his wings and with a flap lifted into the air. He landed on the branch in front of the hole. Lahonti sniffed the air for signs of life. Finding none, he reached his paw into the hole and found a small ledge inside. As he felt around he came across something cold.
He brought it level with his eyes and opened his paw. A gold ring reflected the little bit of star light.
I wonder who put this here, and why
? Lahonti turned it in his paw. He couldn't help wonder if he was going to get caught by its owner who somehow knew it was missing.
It's very shiny,
he thought. He tried it on one of his toes and admired it one more time. He quickly put the parchment into the hole, resting it on the same ledge. He leapt out of the tree and returned to his tent.