The Elementalist : Next of Kin: The Kothian Chronicles (2 page)

Chapter 2.

Far out to sea, a large timber vessel cut through the waves as if they never existed, moving far more swiftly than any normal ship. On the deck stood a dozen figures, all dressed in deep crimson hooded robes, motionless, despite the strong winds and rain. The ship appeared not to rock or sway as any other would do in such terrible conditions, nor did those stood upon it appear affected by them. It was as if the vessel was set in an oasis of calm amongst the rough violet waters of the ocean.

By mid-day, the city of Waltham was in sight, and the group sent to rescue Maxim had decided to pull to a stop and take a break, giving them a little time to discuss a plan of action. Earlier that morning they had needed to call at one of the surrounding towns for supplies. As well as needing to stock up on food, Melia had requested she needed some herbs to make a medicine for Samuel, one of the young Bosarian children they had rescued. As a result, she and Danton had spent a very short shopping trip, before rejoining the others.

Whilst in that town they had seen several posters being put up. Always the curious one, Melia had taken it upon herself, much to Danton's annoyance, to discreetly wander over and read what it said. As it happened, she was glad she did, as the news it contained concerned every one of them. The notice had been about a huge reward for the head of a young escaped prisoner. It also stated any person found aiding that prisoner would suffer public execution as a traitor. Melia had only needed to read the first line of the description to know of whom that notice was about, and after persuading Danton to go and read it as well, they had rejoined the group with interesting news.

As they sat a few hundred yards from the main track, allowing their horses a little time to rest and graze on the lush grasses that grew there, they talked of that very matter.

"So do we assume Maxim has escaped?" Mikel added, just to make sure he understood what they were saying.

"Yes...yes," Melia said, showing her annoyance, she also seemed to have to explain everything twice where he was concerned.

"Might just be a ploy...Perhaps they know we are coming," Mikel told her.

Melia huffed, and cast him a stern stare, "Why would they do that...you really are dumb at times Mikel," she snapped.

Mikel felt a little crestfallen, if Melia had any feelings for him, she certainly did not show them. It was Zack who actually came to his defence, "No Melia, he may have a point. We know the enemy teleporter escaped us, as well as a few of the others. Perhaps they have gotten word back that we are on our way. I mean, what better way to keep us from rescuing Max, than making us think he is no longer there?" He said.

Seeing the conversation was going nowhere fast, Danton intervened, he had thought of a way of settling the matter, and described his plan to the rest of the group. He was to ride up to the city, before going invisible and making his way inside. "If Maxim escaped I doubt he would have done so without making some kind of mess. I mean...well there is bound to be evidence of him using his powers."

Darion chuckled, "Aye the lad has a certain style like that," he said making a joke of the matter.

Tia enquired to Mikel who Maxim was, and he explained to her that he was the friend they had been sent to rescue. Melia knew she needed to stay with Samuel anyway; the young lad was making progress, but was still very weak. Zack was happy to stay with the group, and although Darion was not keen on being left in charge of the young group, he agreed Danton going to check was the best idea they could come up with.

Within half an hour, Danton had left the others behind, and rode onwards towards the city. He found a good place to dismount and tie his horse, hoping it would still be there when he returned in a little while. He did not want to be checked going in through the gates, as his accent might just give him away. Instead, he made sure he was out of sight, before vanishing from view. Moving swiftly, he passed by the guards on duty, and continued on what he assumed to be the main thoroughfare. Knowing his powers would drain very quickly in his current state, he slipped down a side alley and re-appeared.

After casually joining the flow of pedestrians walking up and down, he headed for what he hoped was the centre of the city. He did notice there was a large number of soldiers patrolling the streets, although he was unsure whether that may have been the norm for Waltham. He tried stopping a few times, casually listening in on other people's conversations to see if he could pick up on anything interesting, but it appeared most people had other things to talk about. He did however overhear a couple of men talking about an incident the previous day at the palace, which peaked his interest just a little.

With that very conversation in mind, he headed for what he presumed was the palace, although if he were honest as far as palaces went, it looked a rather ordinary building. It was however the palace gates that drew his notice, or in this particular case, the absence of them. Without getting to close he paused a little while staring at the open gap, but realised he would need to be nearer to see. He slowly walked on by, before nipping into a side alley and making himself vanish again.

Now he was free from prying eyes he moved with impunity amongst the passersby, before making his way into the palace yard, passing by the guards on duty. He looked much more closely to where the gates would have been, and noticed blobs of metal where once the hinges would have sat. It would have taken an intense heat to cause the metal to react in that way, and he knew of only one person capable of creating such a thing. He then turned to look up at the light coloured stone walls, and smiled to himself as he could see blackened marks covering almost the entire height.

Satisfied this had most likely been the work of Maxim, he secretly crept away from the scene, and back into one of the many side streets that criss-crossed the main thoroughfare. After making himself re-appear, he once more mingled amongst the general-public, and wandered back down the street when he noticed a tavern. He thought to himself, what better place to pick-up on gossip, than a bar, knowing alcohol was useful in loosening people tongues.

Nearly four hours had passed since Danton had left the group to go and check for signs of Maxim in the Waltham. The younger members seemed not to be concerned or bothered by their colleague's absence, but Darion was starting to get irritated. "That bloody man leaving me here to babysit you lot, he is so thoughtless," he added grumbling away, although nobody was actually taking any notice of him.

Melia had mixed the herbal medicine and after warming it up on the small fire, which had been lit courtesy of Darion's small elemental skill, she prepared to give it to her young patient. Zack was helping, by holding Samuel's head up, whilst Melia slowly poured the mixture into his mouth. Tia watched on with interest, glad to see her brother making some progress in his recovery. "I wish I had magic," she said.

"You may do one day," Mikel told her, "You'll have to wait until you're a bit older though," he added.

There was barely an hour or so of daylight left, when Zack spotted the familiar figure of Danton slowly trotting his horse towards them. The others had decided to set up camp, and built a bigger fire knowing it would be too late to move on anyway. They were far enough from the main track and the city, and although not the ideal site, it would have to make do until morning.

As Danton rejoined them, Mikel took his horse from him, "Anything?" Zack asked impatiently.

"Do you think he has escaped?" Melia added.

Danton smiled holding his hands out as if to say one at a time. He did not say anything until Mikel had finished removing the saddle from the horse, and returning to sit by the fire. "Well, are you going to bloody well tell us where you've been most the day?" Darion said sounding a little snidely.

Danton started by telling them of the rumours he had first heard, about an incident at the palace, and that on investigation he had found what he believed to be some evidence. "The gates were gone," he added.

"That don't mean squat," Darion interrupted, "They might just be replacing them," he added trying to make out Danton had missed the most obvious reason.

"Well that did cross my mind Darion," he replied unperturbed by the older man's attitude. He then told them how he noticed the hinges had been melted, and the vast blackened walls. "However, just to make certain I decided to go to a tavern and listen in to a few conversations."

"I bloody knew it...You've been off enjoying yourself drinking ale beside a nice warm fire, whilst I been here with this miserable lot freezing me nuts off," Darion snapped, gesticulating his arms wildly.

Danton rolled his eyes back, before continuing to tell them whilst he had been in the bar, he had overheard several interesting pieces of information. Not only were there tales of a young magician running amok in the palace and its grounds, it was also rumoured that the king was unable to control him. It was this particular fact that apparently had the people of Waltham talking; there were now those who were beginning to doubt their king's powers were as great as he made out.

"So you are quite sure Maxim is not there any longer?" Zack asked.

"I can't be one hundred percent Zack, but all the evidence does point to him having escaped."

The young royal thought a moment, and although deep down was disappointed, he would not be seeing his friend anytime soon, he was glad Maxim had escaped his captor. "So do we just turn around and go back?" he finally asked, noticing the others were waiting for his response.

Danton just shrugged, "I don't see any point in staying here any longer then we need to. First thing in the morning, we'll turn about and head back. Ramon will be needing us...well more importantly him," he added pointing to Darion.

The old man crossed his arms, acting a little more like a sulking child than a grown adult.

Danton smiled, "Oh and Darion...Whilst I was in the inn...I got you this," he added reaching inside his cloak and revealing a bottle of ale.

Darion's face lit up, as he excitedly clapped his hands together, "For me?" He asked almost snatching it out of Danton's grasp.

As the old man fumbled about removing the cork stopper, Danton also revealed a few other items from the pocket of his cloak. "I stopped by the kitchens of the inn on my way out," He said unwrapping a brown paper package containing half a dozen sticky buns.

"I didn't realise you had any money on you?" Zack said.

Danton grimaced a tad, and gave a wry smile.

"You stole them, didn't you?" Mikel chuckled.

Danton nodded, "Yes."

"Some example you are," Mikel added reaching forward for a bun.

"I always said he was a good thoughtful man," Darion added taking a long swig from his bottle.

Mikel and Zack just looked at each other, and shook their heads in disbelief.

Zack leaned back against a tree trunk, staring blankly into the flames of the crackling fire. He knew Maxim was out there somewhere, probably all alone and confused as to where he was. Although he knew that the odds of bumping into his friend on the trip back were slim, that small chance still gave him hope that he would see him again soon. It was the not knowing that made the situation all the more difficult, at least when his friend had been incarcerated in Waltham he had known where he was. Now Maxim was out in the wilderness, in a foreign country, he could be absolutely anywhere.

Chapter 3.

Davan, who had only just moved his base of operations from Sandale, packed his few personal items to do so again. After having little difficulty in leading his army of soldiers and magicians in taking the previous two towns, they had now taken another. Craydon did not even have a wall to keep his hordes at bay, and the small garrison of troops based there had surrendered without a shot being fired.

It appeared the Kothians, in the north at least, had little stomach for a fight, something that Davan was grateful for. The fewer battles he had now, meant the fewer losses he had to endure before attempting to take his main goal. The Kothian capital Berxsley however, he knew would be a very different affair. With tall walls, and the fact its ruling government had bled the surrounding towns he now took at will, of its troops, he was certain that particular fight would be a more brutal one.

Now just a few days ride from his ultimate target, Davan needed to move himself up to the front line. He would first take another town en-route called Chenton, before leaving the road clear to the capital. He was glad to have received word, just that morning that Gorius had been good to his word, and sent further reinforcements to help keep the lands he had already conquered on behalf of his king.

Having surpassed even his own expectations thus far, Davan was surprised by just how easy taking the Kothian towns had proven to be. With the aid of magicians, walls did not pose any great problems, and injured soldiers could be healed and back on duty within a day or two. Using his magicians alongside the regular soldiers had proved a winning formula, with the two complimenting each other in their abilities. Naturally, he would have liked a few with such power that he would have little need for much of any army. Recent word from his king that the elementalist they had captured had now escaped did not upset his overall plans that much.

In Berxsley, those in government held onto power, but only just, with murder an almost everyday occurrence, many of them lived their lives in fear of being next. With the local population from the surrounding villages and towns fleeing to the capital, it was fast becoming an overcrowded place, where crime levels were high. With little coherent leadership, lawlessness was fast becoming the norm. Those seeking refuge there, were often robbed of the few possessions of worth they had managed to salvage before fleeing. With many of the city officials more concerned about their own personal welfare, little resources were left to protect the streets and businesses.

Only a short while ago Berxsley had been the clean, thriving city expected of a nation's capital, now however it was anything but. The market square was now full of those taking up temporary residence, and the streets had fast become dirty and unsafe. With Gorius' assassins running amok, killing people at their leisure, many simply refused to leave the relative safety of their homes. As is the norm in these situations there were those who sought to gain advantage from others misery, with many traders as much a tripling the prices for simple everyday items of food.

Even the royal palace had been sacked several times, despite the attempts of soldiers to keep it from being so. Day by day, the city filled with more refugees seeking refuge from an unstoppable enemy encroaching upon their lands. However, those arriving often found that the safe haven they had sought was not the one they had envisaged. Many of the men and older boys were pressganged into some kind of military service, and often told their families would suffer greatly if they tried to refuse to do so.

With the north of Kothia fast being overrun and the south about to feel the full force of the combined forces of Bosaria and their allies form the mountains, it was left to the raiding parties sent forth by Davan to help subjugate the remainder of the country. Naturally, in time, his forces would systematically remove all those that dared oppose their coming, but he knew for now pockets of resistance would remain. He hoped his raiding parties each containing fifty or so men, and allowed to rampage at will, would eliminate many of these pockets whilst his larger forces concentrated on the key areas.

Moving far in advance of the main forces, the raiders had pillaged and destroyed a number of farmsteads and small villages, with the farmers and their families having little option to either stand aside and watch as their livelihoods were destroyed, or else die trying to defend them. As a general rule, these raiding parties avoided the larger walled towns, not being equipped or having the numbers to attack them. However, those towns not having such protection were subjected to attacks, even if it were storming through the streets during the hours of darkness, burning buildings rather than actually engaging in combat with the defenders.

Prince Rylan, Warden of the Western lands and younger sibling to King Oran of Bosaria, sat atop his horse as he watched his small army of full time and makeshift soldiers finalise their preparations for departure. Word that a sizeable raiding party had encroached his lands, had reached him the previous day. The thought of sitting safely behind the town of Dewston’s tall well-built walls had never crossed his mind. Knowing the small villages and farms under his protection would stand little chance against the invaders, he had decided to be proactive in his approach.

He had sent two small scouting parties out the previous evening to try to locate and track the enemy, keeping him updated via messenger birds as often as possible. Safe in the knowledge that the raiders would not tackle a town like Dewston, he felt no qualms about depleting it of a sizable number of its fighting force. This was something he and his men had been preparing and practicing for since the ongoing conflict had started, and although he had envisaged the fight would have involved a siege against his town, he felt confident the change in plan would have no adverse effects on his men.

Rylan, was a well-liked man amongst the people of his small domain, and was not so arrogant that he did not heed warnings from others more knowledgeable in matters, such as military ones. As a result, his Captain beside him, a man due for retirement several years ago, was given the task of leading the force about to depart the safety of the town. Although Rylan was going with them, despite the concerns of his wife and daughter, he would allow the captain absolute control, even if the man’s orders conflicted with his own thoughts.

As the group of over one hundred and fifty men rode and marched through the gates, those left behind watched on sombrely knowing that even if victory were won, some would not be returning. As soon as the last rider passed outside the town, the gates were shut and the place left with a much smaller defensive force should they themselves succumb to any attack. Rylan though had spent many of his limited resources into keeping updated with current events. Safe in the knowledge that the Bosarian main forces were fighting in the north and the south, and that only the smaller raiding parties had reached as far as his lands, he felt assured he was not leaving his town in any immediate danger.

Having spent several hours the previous evening discussing possible plans with his captain, the man had suggested several options of attack. Rylan had agreed, and bowing to the man’s better knowledge in military matters, had left it to him to decide which was best. Hence, the captain was convinced that a larger force such as their own, although not as experienced in real combat as the enemy, would be best riding out and dealing with the threat. The advantage was not only in numbers, as the captain had pointed out to Rylan, having knowledge of the local area would also play a big part. Holding higher ground for instance could play a big part in any battle, as was the very ground they stood on; forcing the enemy to fight uphill and with an uneven footing would give them a good advantage.

If all went well they would be back in the warmth and safety of Dewston within a day or two, safe in the knowledge they had dealt the enemy a blow. Moreover, it would also mean the smaller farms and villages in the local area, would no longer be subject to any imminent attack. For now, they had to move themselves into position, and rely on the information they had, as to which direction the raiders were moving. If all went well they should be meeting up with one of their scouting parties in a few hours with fresh updates.

Keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings as they went, Rylan was glad to see his scouts waiting for them at the predefined meeting place. Not having enough horses for all his men had meant the journey taking a little longer than he had wanted, and he was beginning to worry they would not have time to take up their positions before the enemy was upon them. His fears however were unfounded, as the scout gave him the latest reports.

The captain, given leadership of the force, nodded as he listened before taking his time to explain his plan. Rylan was happy for the man to take the lead, and felt a tinge of excitement as he realised the enemy would soon be engaged. Built on a slight incline, just a short distance from their current position was a small village called Wenley, and it would be there they would set their plans in motion. Now, they just needed to move swiftly to set their trap and lie in wait.

Wenley consisted of a few dozen homes built in close proximity to each other, and aside from a well at its centre and a small stone chapel, it had nothing of note. The residents, all of whom worked the surrounding land were escorted from their homes and into the chapel for safety. Rylan's men started taking up positions around, between and even on top of the buildings, in an attempt at remaining out of sight, whilst forty on horseback remained behind the cover of the small hill on which the village was built. Now all they had to do was wait, and if the scout reports were anything to go by, that would not prove to be a very long one.

Little more than twenty minutes had passed as the first of the enemy riders slowly trotted into view. Rylan watched from atop of one of the houses, as the group approached in no sort of orderly fashion. At first, they had planned to hide everybody from sight, but had changed the plan just a little so as to help entice the invaders to attack. A handful of his regular soldiers had willingly volunteered to don the clothes of the villagers, and pretend to be carrying out the daily tasks they would normally undertake.

The enemy, all on horseback spread themselves out as they picked up the pace just a little. Despite there being an incline up to the village, the horses appeared to have little trouble in dealing with it, and as such, the first riders were little more than fifty yards from the nearest home, as Rylan's undercover soldiers pretended to flee.

The signal to reveal themselves was a given, and within a few moments archers from the rooftops scored hits on the first of the attackers. Seeing their comrades taken down did not seem to deter the others as they continued to push forward. Rylan's infantry quickly lined up along the narrow street, forming a shield wall to block the enemy progress. The enemy was forced to pull up, as they continued to come under fire from Rylan's archers. A couple decided to make a charge for the infantry, hoping the power of their horses would be sufficient to smash through the barricade. An order was given and the long narrow spears carried by the Kothian soldiers were thrust out from between the shields, impaling the first of the horses as they were forced forward by their riders.

The cries of the beasts as they slumped down to the ground were sickening, so much so Rylan was forced to glance away from his viewpoint. He may have been willing to fight and follow his captain's orders, but the old man had seen fit to have him positioned away from harm. Despite him being a fine swordsman, he had been told to take a bow and take a position atop one of the rooftops. To take his mind from the distressing sight of the dying horses, Rylan picked another target further back. Drawing his bowstring back as far as he could manage, he released and watched the arrow speed through the chilly afternoon air, and hit a rider straight in the chest.

With the enemy finally realising they had wandered straight into a trap, most started turning their horses back the other way. Rylan's own cavalry were just swinging around the base of the incline and upwards as the first of the enemy attempted to retreat. The rider was too busy looking back to even notice he was riding straight into a wall of on rushing spears. Rylan and his captain had devised a plan to use spears as if they were lances, in the hope that the extra range it gave them would help limit the number of casualties.

As the Kothian infantry closed off the gaps between the houses, the Bosarian raiders had nowhere left to go, and had no option but to try to fight their way out. A few opted to charge at the shield walls, whilst the remainder opted to take their chance against the oncoming cavalry. The Kothian riders though rode close together, allowing no gaps, as they spread out in a long line, all with long spears thrust outwards. All the time the archers from their advantageous positions picked off the enemy, as they found themselves surrounded.

Within little more than ten minutes, the battle was over, as the Kothian infantry lines broke from their shield wall to finish off those enemy soldiers that lay injured on the blood soaked ground. Horses that had been unfortunate enough to have been struck during the fighting were put out of their misery.  As strange as it seemed, Rylan was glad the last of the creature's cries was silenced. It pained him to see such beautiful animals be put through such treatment; whereas he had no qualms about letting the Bosarian raiders wriggle and squirm in agony from their injuries.