The Veredor Chronicles: Book 03 - The Gate and Beyond (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

The gate of Faircastle creaked as it opened. It was clearly evident that the hinges were buckled and twisted. The gate had little strength remaining. The Irvarian army had gathered along the main road that led between the gate and the palace. A sea of red Irvarian flags flew in the brisk breeze of the morning. Several long beams of sunlight shone over the city and lifted the hearts of the gathering soldiers. King Edric rode out through the gate, and Princess Apherah, wearing shining silver armour, rode her magnificent white warhorse after her father. The long lines of Irvarian troops began to march out of the city.

The horde of muckrons had completely departed the area, but their presence had left the fields and villages surrounding Faircastle in a state of complete ruin. Not one building remained standing outside the city walls; each and every structure had been burned to the ground, and all the old stone buildings had been destroyed by the invaders. Every tree had suffered a similar fate. Only smouldering stumps and blackened muddy fields remained.

King Edric surveyed the area and shook his head in anger. He turned his dark warhorse and led the army out along the river road with a look of determination in his eyes. Red, Cassiel, Stella, Meara, and Baftel rode just back from the front of the army.

‘All of Veredor will look like this if the Prince of Shadows is victorious,’ said Meara, her sad eyes scanning their surroundings.

‘Not if we have anything to do with it,’ said Red. Meara smiled at Red’s brash confidence.

‘We will do all we can,’ said Meara.

‘King Ignis may just have something up his sleeve,’ said Red. ‘I know King Ignis, and I’m sure he will have a plan that will get us out of trouble.’

‘Let’s hope so.’

The army rode on eastward for several miles and crossed a large stone bridge to the north side of the river. For the rest of the day they followed the river road. The forest north of the river had been left untouched and hadn’t suffered the fiery fate of the forests on the southern bank. The beauty of Irvaria gave them all hope and rekindled a feeling of courage among the Irvarian soldiers. Late in the afternoon they passed through a forest of golden elms and set up camp in a meadow on the east side of the woods and near to the river.

Red and Stella sat by the river and watched the gentle flow of the water pass by. Cassiel was sitting on a rock a little further down the bank and was watching the southern side of the wide river with intent eyes. A feeling of anger swelled in Red’s heart. Memories of seeing Eben being cast from the cliff top were always at the forefront of his mind. He felt stricken that he couldn’t be there to save his friend. Red had never had a friend like Eben before, and he knew that he would never again meet anyone like Eben.

‘I’m going to avenge Eben,’ he said to Stella. ‘When the battle starts I’m going to fight my way directly to the Prince of Shadows. Just before I finish him I’ll tell him I’m avenging the death of Eben Ecorian.’

‘I miss Eben too,’ said Stella sadly.

‘I should have been there on the cliffs to help him.’

‘Red, you did all you could do. We tried to keep up with Eben and the others. There were just too many muckrons. If Meara hadn’t come to save us we too would have been killed on the battlefield.’

Red looked away and nodded reluctantly. He still felt there must have been something he could have done to save his friend.

Cassiel stood up and walked over to them. ‘There are muckron scouts on the far bank,’ he said as he pointed out across the river.

Red and Stella quickly turned and looked out at the far bank. About a hundred and fifty yards away across the water stood four hairy pig headed muckrons. Red drew his sword, but it was more of a symbolic gesture as the muckrons were no danger to them. For a few moments the muckrons watched them; they then turned and ran into the hinterland.

‘Foul creatures,’ said Red disdainfully.

**

The Irvarian army set out before dawn and kept a solid pace throughout the day. King Edric was keen to arrive at the Morris Bridge as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to allow the enemy army to cut off the road to Jeriel’s Field. Red, Meara, and Stella rode near to the front of the column of troops. Acartor, Meara, Mostyn, Princess Apherah, and King Edric rode at the very front of the army.

‘There are three riders approaching,’ said King Edric, pointing toward the hilly country to the north.

The riders galloped across the meadows toward the Irvarian army. Red instantly recognised the lead rider as Sir Ronan, the Fiorian who had been introduced with Chiara and Acartor at the council in Faircastle. He was followed by two other riders.

‘Welcome, Sir Ronan,’ said King Edric, a sense of gladness in his voice.

‘We are happy to have found you,’ said Sir Ronan. ‘I would like to introduce you to the Fiorian Clare and the Fiorian Winfred. Clare was a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties. Her beauty was enchanting; she had long dark hair and large grey eyes. Winfred was a stern looking man with a shaggy red beard and bright red hair.

‘What news do you bring of the
Far Western Lands?’ asked Acartor.

Sir Ronan shook his head sadly. ‘Little remains in the west. We have been consistently outmatched by the muckron armies. Several weeks ago our forts in Iarthar were overrun. We retreated into Dravania, but the muckrons were relentless in their pursuit. We then joined with the main Dravanian army and hoped to push back the muckron advance. Ten days ago we challenged the enemy force in the south of Dravania. We were massively outnumbered and were forced to retreat to the Iril Fortress. The three of us then left to seek your assistance. We didn’t expect to find you facing such a powerful enemy army so close to Faircastle.’

‘The end is near,’ said Acartor flatly. ‘The Prince of Shadows has sent one hundred thousand muckrons to finish us.’

‘Then you will not be able to send reinforcements to the Iril Fortress.’

‘Regrettably we have no soldiers to spare,’ said King Edric. ‘However, if we win we will send help, and the battle is only days away.’

‘We cannot win. All hope has already been lost,’ muttered Acartor.

Sir Ronan stared harshly at Acartor for several moments. ‘Such words are not keeping with a knight of the Fiorian Order.’

‘My words are nothing but the truth, Ronan. It seems that I am the only man who is being practical. You know as well as I do that death will be the only outcome if we choose to fight the Prince of Shadows. There is still a chance to negotiate. We can end all this destruction.’

‘Acartor, surely you know that there can be no negotiation with such an enemy,’ said Ronan. ‘The Prince of Shadows would make us less than slaves and take our humanity from us. It is better to live free and die free; you should know that, Acartor.’

‘Ordinarily I would agree with you, Ronan,’ replied Acartor coolly. ‘Yet such a choice will extinguish the race of men. Will you stand by, Ronan, and watch as our race is completely destroyed? We can make the right choice and end this war, or we can follow a foolish path into oblivion.’

Sir Ronan pondered Acartor’s words for a moment before speaking. ‘Men are only men if they are free. The spirit rises only in the light of truth. We are free, and because we are free we can freely choose to be true. The Prince of Shadows would enslave our minds if we took the path that you suggest. Why do you seek to influence us to choose a path into darkness? You belong to the Fiorian Knights; you should know better.’ For several moments the two Fiorians stared at each other harshly. ‘You also know our race lives elsewhere in the cosmos. We came to Veredor as invited guests in the Forgotten Age. The world of men still abides far across the cosmos. Men will live on regardless of the outcome of this battle. You know all these secrets, Acartor. Why do you make such suggestions?’

Acartor sneered at Ronan as he turned his horse. He rode away toward the back of the army without saying another word.

‘I apologize for my kinsman’s words,’ said Ronan, a look of worry etched into his face. ‘It seems that he has not coped well with his Fiorian responsibilities. I will speak to him privately later.’

King Edric’s eyes followed Acartor as he rode away.

‘Will you ride with us to meet with our allies at Jeriel’s Field?’ asked Apherah.

‘Certainly,’ replied Ronan. ‘We would be honoured to fight by your side.’

**

The army continued for the remainder of the day. As the evening approached they arrived at the Morris Bridge. The bluestone bridge spanned the river at a point where the banks came within a hundred yards of each other. The bridge was wide enough for a wagon to pass and formed a gradual arch across the water. The clear water of the Adira River flowed quickly by. Across the river were wide meadows with patchy groups of elm trees dotted about the landscape.

‘We will set up camp on the southern side of the river,’ said King Edric. ‘Tomorrow we will march to Jeriel’s Field. King Ignis and his army will be waiting for us.’

The army slowly crossed the bridge and began pitching tents and building campfires in one of the meadows about five hundred yards east of the bridge. Red and Stella pitched their tent and built a small campfire. As twilight descended they walked down to the riverside and watched the water flow by.

‘I am looking forward to seeing King Ignis again,’ said Stella. ‘He is like the father I never had.’

‘It will be difficult to tell him about Eben’s death,’ said Red.

‘We will tell him that Eben died a hero and fought to the very end. In the coming days we may face the very same fate.’

Red nodded as his eyes watched the fast flowing water. The image of Eben descending into the crashing waves again flashed through his mind. He knew his opportunity to avenge Eben was near.

Suddenly his eyes caught sight of a dark shape in the water further upstream. The body of a man was being washed downstream. Within seconds the current of the river brought the man near to where Red and Stella were sitting. Instantly they could see he was still alive and bleeding from a wound to his chest.

‘Look, it is Ronan,’ cried Red.

Red immediately leapt into the river. The swift current pulled Red downstream as he swam furiously to reach Ronan. Within a few moments he grabbed a hold of the Fiorian. With all his might he dragged him to the shore. Stella reached down and helped Red pull Ronan onto the riverbank. The Fiorian’s complexion was deathly pale, and his wound was deep. His head fell back. He was clearly near to death. Stella pressed some cloth over the wound and supported his head.

‘Sir Red…you have to…save King Edric…’ stammered Ronan in a weak voice that was little more than a whisper. ‘Acartor…he is a traitor…he’s a Skathean…the Morris Bridge…go, Sir Red.’

‘A Skathean!’ repeated Stella in shock.

‘It is… too late…the wound is to my heart…you… must go…now...save the King!’

Ronan closed his eyes and could not say another word. Red stood up and drew his sword.

‘Go, Red! I will stay with Ronan!’ Stella grabbed his hand. ‘Be careful, Red.’

Red kissed Stella and then ran upstream toward the Morris Bridge. His heart thumped in his chest. He sprinted along the bank with all the energy he could muster. The bridge wasn’t far, perhaps several hundred yards away.

Ahead he could see two figures on the bridge in the darkening twilight. The image grew clearer as he approached. King Edric was on his knees, battered and wounded, and above him stood Acartor who was holding his sword up and ready to strike. Red stepped onto the bridge and drew his sword. Acartor turned to face him, a sly grin crossing his face.

‘Sir Red, what a pleasant surprise. You are just in time to witness the execution of an Irvarian king. Are you so intent on interrupting such an important occasion?’

‘It was you!’ cried Red. ‘You led Eben into a trap! You killed my friend.’

Acartor laughed with contempt. ‘Don’t be so sentimental. Eben Ecorian was a fool and deserved to die. Yes, I gave him the opportunity to end this war in the only way that it could be ended. He caused his own death when he refused to serve the Prince of Shadows. Veredor belongs to the Lord of Veredor. Eben made the wrong decision and died for his foolishness.’

Red cried out and charged at the Skathean. He swung his blade with all his might, but Acartor dodged the attack with ease and slashed Red across the chest, penetrating his armour and leaving a long shallow gash. Red stumbled back as Acartor smirked and stepped after him.

‘You disgust me, Sir Red. You are nothing more than a fool with some powerful friends. Killing you will be a pleasure,’ hissed Acartor with a sly grin.

Red cried out in fury and again charged forward, but Acartor dashed aside and tripped him over. As Red fell Acartor thumped him in the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. Red’s sword fell from his hand. He lay in a heavy daze on the cold stony surface of the bridge. The world was spinning around him. He couldn’t clearly see Acartor or where his sword had fallen.

King Edric started to get up. Acartor turned and pointed his sword at the monarch. ‘Patience, Your Highness, I will attend to you shortly. Just give me a moment to finish this reckless fool.’

‘Enough!’ cried Meara’s voice. Red looked to see Meara had stepped onto the bridge. Her hands were glowing with blue light, and her bright turquoise coloured eyes stared defiantly at Acartor. The Skathean glared back at Meara; the sly gloating expression left his face and was replaced by a cold scowl. ‘I see you have betrayed the Fiorian Order and joined the Skatheans. Prepare yourself, Acartor; your consequences have arrived.’