The Outlaw King: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book One (39 page)

 

Chapter One Hundred-Fourteen

 

Kilarion
did not believe his own senses. He rose and walked around the wizard. The light
burned through the soul sword, and impossibly, it withdrew from the wizard’s
chest with no assistance from Kilarion.

            The
Lu stood back, dumbfounded, staring in wonderment at the phenomenon unfolding
before him.

            The
sword fell on the floor with a dull thud – the floor was not made of stone, and
the sword was not made of steel.

            Light
burned in Caeus’ eyes, and he winked at the soul guardian.

            ‘Forgive
the intrusion, Kilarion. I fear my early awakening is somewhat impolite,
considering all the time you have given me, but my time has come. I must leave
you.’

            ‘How
did you do that?’ said Kilarion in astonishment.

            ‘I
have been thinking, regaining my powers. I would not be so strong if it wasn’t
for you, but to regain my full strength I must rest a little while longer. My
last battle left me diminished, but far from helpless. My plans are complete,
and for that I have you to thank. I am not immortal. Without my imprisonment I
would have been dead by now. Admittedly, I still have many years in me, but not
a millennium. I fear I have as long to wait again, but not here. Not now. I
must leave you.’

            ‘You
may be able to awaken, Caeus, but you cannot leave without besting me.’

            ‘I
would not dream of leaving you here to suffer. We will have the contest, and I
will leave.’

            Kilarion,
his heart as stone, impassionate and resolute, nonetheless felt warmth in the
wizard’s words. His marble skin blushed…he had not dreamed there could ever be
freedom from eternity. If any creature could grant an immortal rest, he
believed Caeus could do it. He had power beyond imagining. He had already
broken one rule. Perhaps he could break another.

            ‘I
will fight you with compassion,’ said Caeus with a grin. 'I hope you have been
learning, as I have, or my time here is a failure.’ The wizard spoke like his
imprisonment was a choice. Perhaps it was, mused the soul guardian.

            ‘I
concede your point, wizard. Then begin.’

            Caeus
concentrated for a moment – emotion as unnatural for him as flying to a fish –
and in his hand a mighty sword coalesced from the air. It was the equal in size
to the sword in Kilarion’s gnarled hands. It shimmered with light, and the
chamber was so brightly lit that Caeus could see eternity beyond.

            With
all his strength, Caeus struck.

            The
swords met, resounding with a deafening peal, like the bells of time which
still sound throughout the universe.

            Light
flared, impossibly bright, then dimmed to a ball in the air. Both swords ceased
to exist the moment they clashed.

            ‘It
is over,’ said the Lu with unbridled joy. Freedom, at last! ‘You have learned
well.’

            ‘As
have you, my friend. I hope you enjoy your freedom.’

            ‘Then
you understand?’

            ‘I
do, Kilarion. You die with the sword. I am not sorry to see you go. I know you
have wished for an end forever. The time is now.’

            The
ball of light was growing all the time, until it was as large as a man. It
stood between Caeus and Kilarion, but they could see each other through it.

            ‘It
is time for you to go.’

            ‘I
know,’ said Caeus. ‘I am glad you will know freedom. I go to my next prison.’

            ‘Why?
You are free.’

            ‘I
am not free until I have fulfilled my life’s purpose. And the time is not yet
here. I must be patient until then. I need to martial my strength. Even then I
fear it is not enough. But these are mortal fears, my friend. Go, and go with
peace.’

            Contentment
passed the soul guardians face, as Caeus diminished within the sphere of light,
and blinked from eternity, back into the realms of time.

            As
he died, Kilarion wished him well.

            Caeus
blinked and in an instant found himself standing precisely where he wanted to
be. He was before a mighty creature, a gargantuan beast out of time, out of
place, deep within the belly of a volcano, beyond Thaxamalan's Saw in the
frozen north.

            Before
him the revenant howled in its chains, but it had enough freedom to grasp the
wizard, pull him toward its maw, and swallow him whole.

            And
within a revenant of godless times, Caeus disappeared.

            Thought
ceased, his heartbeat slowed, and finally stilled. Held in stasis once more, he
prepared to wait. He had no choice. He did not choose the time of the return.
While he slept, the blood of the revenant coursed around him. The beast was
unaware of the wizard feeding off its blood.

            While
he slept, the wizard’s strength would grow. In time, he would need it. If all
went well. His plans were in place, but no mortal could know the future with
certainty. There was so much chance involved. One wrong move, and he would
sleep forever. His mind still worked. It would be easy, in this next
millennium, to succumb to fear, to descend into madness, but he would not let
himself. He held his demons at bay, and determined to sleep, to feed.

            He
fell into sleep, and dreamed of the future.

            Fear
gnawed at the edges of his sleep, but he held it tight to his chest, a
cherished, rare emotion. He stored it all within his still heart, with hope,
compassion, and pity for those who must stand in the way, come the return of
the old ones...the return of the Sun Destroyers.

 

*

 

Chapter One Hundred-Fifteen

 

The
light of life was fading fast. Tarn looked around his throne room for the last
time. His friends were dimming. But with the last of his effort, he motioned
Roskel to his side.

            ‘There
is something you must do for me, Roskel,’ he said, his voice fading with his
life. The pull of the gates was strong now.

            He
spoke in a whisper.

            With
tears in his eyes, Roskel nodded. ‘It will be done,’ he told the king.

            But
Tarn did not hear him. He passed from life, and looking down on his body one
last time, he saw a smile on the young man seated there, sword resting in his
hands, and friends by his side.

            It
was a better end than most, he thought, and passed through the gates, to his
friends waiting there, and their loving arms.

 

*

 

Epilogue

 

Stars
shone bright in the sky outside the hut. Two moons bore witness to the coming
winter, and the passing of sorrow.

            A
scream hung on the air, full of sadness, touched with joy. It passed slowly.

            Under
Hren and Gern’s ageless gaze, a small hut stood in a clearing among the trees,
its roof white in their glare, as though covered in snows. The snows would come
soon enough, but for now, autumn held sway over the trees.

            Within
the hut, another scream came, and this one bore tears. Breaths came in
stuttering gasps, cries of pain interspersed, an ancient language, but one that
only women knew. It was the language of childbirth, and the reply came, a soft
wailing at first, then loud enough to bring joy.

            The
sorrow of her lover’s passing, which she felt immediately, passed, not
forgotten, but put to one side, if only for a moment. The air stilled, and in
the firelight Mia’s smile was bright. She passed the baby to her mother, with
nothing but love in her eyes.

            Rena
held her baby to her breast.

            As
long as she had something of his to remember him by, she knew she could
survive. She took the most precious thing in all the world in her arms. The
future could look after itself.

 

* End *

 

 

 

Bonus Material: The Island Archives

 

The Sturman Kings

 

(From the War of Reconciliation
onwards)

 

Cast

 

Major

 

Gard
– Tarn’s surrogate father. The
Big Man (in a special way to his loving wife Molly, but in an entirely decent
way, to his adopted son). Trained Tarn in the skills of the warrior, and more
importantly, the skills of a man. Was once weapons’ master to the Thane of
Spar’s army, in a bygone era. A veteran of the Reconciliation wars.

 

Rena
– Tarn’s love, the bearer of his
only child, and, almost incidentally, a witch of unknown power. With curling
golden hair, a full smile and passion for torn men, this fine filly is sure to
turn heads.

 

Roskel
Farinder
– Thief
of ill-repute, but only among cuckolds. An eye for trinkets and ladies of
dubious virtue, Roskel is Tarn’s truest friend, his conscience, and his
successor to the blood drenched throne of Sturma.

 

PS.
Has a predilection for equanimity and a propensity for profundity often
mistaken for being mere erudition, but which belies a nature both…

 

‘Gerroff!
‘ere, mam, he’s talking boll…’

 

‘Oi!
None of that! And Gerald, give your brother back his pencil! Right now, I said!
And stop reading those bloody books. Gives you ideas, they does…’

 

Tarn
– The last king to wear the
Sturman crown, scarred from a young age and moulded by cruel fate into a
fighter of great renown. Once a farmer, a hunter, and even a bandit king, this
upstanding man would have rocked worlds had he lived. As it is, he must look on
from behind Madal’s unbreachable gates as the future unfolds as sadly, he is no
longer with us. May he rest in peace.

 

Tulathia
– Old witch. Not
meant, of course, in any derogatory sense, but as a mere statement of fact. Far
seeing, long suffering, and full of compassion for those that know less, and
envy for those very same people, blissful in their ignorance.

 

Author’s
note: Had gout, but it seems to have cleared up.

 

Minor

 

Anhar
– Village
champion at fisticuffs.

Asthar
– One of Gothar’s friends.

Bateman
– One of Gothar’s friends.

Brocain
– Commander of
the western legion.

Caeus
– Wizard of great renown,
worshipped by some, potential destroyer of suns. Has power unchallenged since
the exile, but come the return…well, who can say?

Cardon
– Thane of Carmille, reluctant
ally of the Thane of Naeth.

Durmont

The Thane of
Spar’s faithful secretary.

Durn
– Lazy bandit.

Fanador
– The Thane of
Mardon.

Gan
– A bandit from Haven, part of
the crew that waylaid Tarn and changed his life forever, although from the part
he played it in you wouldn’t think he was in anyway pivotal in the development
of the plot.

 

‘Wha’s
‘e say?’

 

‘He
said ‘plot’, Grandpa.’

 

‘Dad,
put your teeth in.’

 

(murble
murble)

 

‘Bah!
In my day, now, we had plots. Bugger wouldn’t know if a plot came up and nipped
‘im inna badgers.’

 

‘What’s
badgers, Grandpa?’

 

‘Never-you-mind.
Dad, you really should know better…’

 

Garenhill
– Owner of a
fantastic moustache, and Tarn’s Thieves’ Covenant contact.

Garrett
– Second in
command of the western legion under Brocain.

Gothar
– Village bully, but in the way
of most bullies, is of little ultimate importance.

Haritha
the Black
– Much
maligned witch of the Pale Forest.

Hirander
the Good

Masked bandit.

Hurn
Urillion
– The
Thane of Naeth’s tracker. Somewhat shorter toward the middle of the book.

Ipsis
– Bandit hero,
but only because he rode the coattails of greater men.

Jenin
– Seer par
excellence. Big bugger. Handy around the house.

Jungst
– Bandit.

Kateral
Boran
– Bandit.

Kilarion
– A Lu. Caeus’ gaoler, or
perhaps he was the prisoner all along.

King
Gerrain
– The
last king to hold the throne of Sturma, Ulrane’s father.

Kuin
– The scrawny son of the Thane
of Spar. Although, to be fair, it  hardly his fault he turned out gaunt with
rheumy eyes.

Kurin
Marnon
– The
Thane of Spar’s expert huntsman, a tracker of men and in the end, a stalwart
ally of the last king.

Mar
– Bandit lieutenant.

Merilith
– Wicked
creature, hierarch schemer. Suffered with a club foot and a bifurcated urethra.
Leastways, that’s what the history books say.

Mert
– Bandit.

Mia
– Gorgeous, full
of life and love for her special daughter, Rena.

Molly
– Tarn’s surrogate mother, lost
to the world, never to find the succour of lost loves beyond the gate, but
doomed to roam the nowhere worlds until the dawning of time.

 

‘Bit
harsh innit, Grandpa?’

 

‘It’s
a hard world, Son, get used to it.’

 

Nableth
– Commander of the northern
legion for the Thane of Naeth’s army.

Orlane
– Bandit.

Orthenwade
– Fatally
wounded, or so everyone thought, but in the end he got back on his feet and
opened a highly successful chain of cobblers.

Orvane
Wense
– The
Thane of Kar.

Rean
– One of the greatest archers of
the age.

Red
hand
– Lax
guard.

Ren
– Dead bandit.

 

‘Be
in books, they sez, easy life, they sez. Well, bloody well look at me now.’

 

Rilon
– Bandit
lieutenant.

Brendall
– Bandit lieutenant,
Tarn’s companion until the end. Left seven children behind, met three beyond
Madal’s gates. And he thought he would know peace. Just goes to show, those
little blighters will follow you anywhere, except when there’s a sharp
implement to play with.

Sam
– Ren’s companion beyond Madal’s
gates

Savan
Retrice

Captain of the secret guard.

Selana
– The Queen of
Thieves…sultry, seductive, sexy…generally makes men think of words beginning
with ‘S’.

 

‘What,
like sausages? What’s he mean, mam?’

 

‘Never-you-mind.’

 

(Hmm,
works wonders, that.)

 

Silvan
– Better than Rean.

The
Hierophant
– The
leader of the Hierarchy, malevolence personified.

The
Slain
– Leader
of the Fresh Woods bandits. Crazy, reluctant casualty.

Thane
of Naeth
– Known
by his mummy as Hurth.

Thane
of Spar

Redalane. A good man, in heart and mind. Hurth’s opposite.

Tor
– Guide through the warrens
under Naeth and accomplished head breaker.

Turille
– The Hierophant’s fawning
servant.

Tuth
Morain
– Pig
farmer.

Ulrane
– Tarn’s father,
the exiled King.

Urng
– Foreign
bandit.

Urthor
– Boxing challenger.

Uxthorn
– Treacherous bandit. Got a
length of silver for his troubles, but was rather disappointed as it’s not as
easy as coin to take up the shops.

Wexel
– Bandit
lieutenant.

Y’xithil
– Last, and
well, if not the least, certainly among them.

 

Places

 

Cities

Naeth, Orioth
(in Gern’s Crest)

 

Countries

Sturma,
Lianthre

 

Inns
and Taverns
-
The Drunken Bear, Oribeth’s Tavern, Wayward inn, Bearded Dragon, Cusp of Hren,
The Dockers, Well’s Footman, The Speckled Hare.

 

Regions
– Naeth (north),
Spar (southern peninsula), Lare Woods, Lare Bog, (both south west, next to the
spar) Culthorn Mountains (in the west), Fresh Woods (mid west), Gern’s Crest
(mid east), Ulbridge (largely inconsequential Thanedom, south of the Fresh
Woods), Carmille (Thanedom (small) to the west of Naeth), Kar (Thanedom),
Mardon (Thanedom), Thaxamalan’s Saw (mountain range that separates Sturma from
the frozen wastes in the north).

 

Towns
and Villages
– Juxerton,
Parhett, Trellham, Kertrich, the Wherry, Garveton, Turnmarket, Wanes Port,
Haven

 

Other
places of note
-
Kus (the Cathedral on the Plains), Castle Karnell, or the Castle of Light – the
Thane of Spar’s home.

 

Astronomical
Bodies of Note

 

Moons

Hren and Gern

Suns

Carious and
Dow

Planets

Rythe

Constellations

The Field of
Castles

 

Mythology/Religion

 

Brindle

God of thieves
and goats.

Dematron

King of gods.

Madal’s
Gate –
The gates
that all Sturmen must pass in death.

Miskal
– God of all
that stands proud.

Terase
- God of childbirth.

 

Reliquary

 

The
King’s Crest
– A
magical crown imbued with the memories of long-dead regents.

The
Ring of the Elethyn

Grants the wearer a ten-fold increase in their powers, but just a bauble to
those not magically gifted.

 

Bestiary

 

Badgers
– Furry stripped
creature which snuffles close to the ground. Hence the colloquial ‘bearded
badger’ or in the south ‘hairy as a badger’s snadgers’.

 

Beavers
- Web-footed
creatures often found lurking in the southern marshes of Lianthre. Typically
suffers from short-tempered bowel syndrome when in heat.

 

Boars
– Common to the woodlands and
forests of Sturma, but not, as it turns out, that common, more well-to-do than
some, you could say.

 

Deer
– Trapped gods
in corporeal form, or just tasty meat?

 

Dragon
– ‘Don’t be
daft, Poppins, dragons ain’t real, no matter what Gerald sez.’

 

‘But
mam, he sed they’d eat me up if I don’t give him some of my sweets!’

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