Severed Empire: Wizard's War (10 page)

Chapter 7

Leaving Coil near the castle, but out of sight with the weapons and horses, Mykal, Blodwyn and Eadric approached the thin forest of tree stumps surrounding the large wall of Nabal’s keep. Mykal’s grandfather had explained it made a siege much more difficult since there was no clear, direct path for attack. A man-dug moat served as additional protection from attacks, as well as the rumors of a beast that swam circles around the keep. Since his encounter with the serpents from the Isthmian, Mykal now gave the legend some regard, though he’d never seen any signs of anything under the surface.

Knights patrolled above on the wood walkway between crenellations inside the compound. As they approached the giant wall, knights stood at either side of the barbican, in front of the lowered drawbridge. Their footfalls echoed on wood. Ushered into single file, Mykal and the others passed under the raised spiked, wrought iron gate. At the end of business, the keep was sealed up tight.

Inside the walls of the keep all eight bastions were visible, but clearly Nabal’s castle was the highlight. Magnificently constructed it sat on a hilltop just above the back end of the walls of the keep, and was outlined by a deep moat of its own.

Vendors ruled the marketplace. Aromas of stew and meat cooked over open flames came at Mykal from all directions. There were carts with fresh vegetables, and fruit for sale or trade, as well as necessities such as oil for lanterns, and coal. Dueling mandolins played a song Mykal knew, but could not recall the name of. He wondered how long his father played an instrument, and if he’d ever have the chance to hear him strum out a tune?

Blodwyn took lead inside the keep, with Eadric and Mykal close behind. Eadric barely kept up, his eyes drawn to nearly every item up for sale, and every person around him. Several times Mykal nearly walked into his father. “Keep moving.”

Finally, Blodwyn stopped toward the back of the keep, close to the gate leading toward the castle moat. He stood with one hand on his staff, his other arm hidden under his cloak, and blatantly watched two knights by the gate. “That is our way to the castle,” Blodwyn said.

“We know that,” Eadric said. He pointed at the castle. “Not much of a secret.”

“No,” Blodwyn said. “I mean them, the knights. They are our way to the castle.”

“The escort you’re hoping for.” Eadric spun around slowly, as if assessing how much attention they were receiving. Clearly they looked peculiar standing at the edge of the marketplace staring at the knights, huddled close together, and whispering.

The two knights were dressed in mesh chainmail under sleeveless tunics with the king’s sigil embroidered on the breast. They wore brown leather gloves, and a belt that hung low from holding their swords.

“I would like to talk with them first,” Mykal said. “I know it sounds hopeless, but maybe if we give them just enough information, they will have no choice but to bring us in front of the king. How would it look if they knew a war was coming and did nothing to warn him?”

“Futile, I’m sure, but worth a try,” Blodwyn said.

The three of them walked over to the knights. Both guards stared at them, hands on hilts. “Halt,” one demanded.

Mykal noticed archers on the wall, arrows nocked, aimed at the three of them. He held up his hands, showing he was not armed. “We have news. It is imperative we speak with the king.”

“What kind of news?”

The question sounded promising. Mykal took one more step closer. “King Cordillera of the Osiris Realm is gearing up his forces. He is going to attack King Nabal.”

The knights looked at each other, and then laughed. “Is that so?”

Mykal shook his head. “I am telling you the truth. He is planning an attack. He wants to become the emperor.”

“Emperor?” the knight said. “King Cordillera may have dreams of being the next emperor, but inside his head while asleep is where those aspirations will remain. There is no way he could sail across the Isthmian without our king knowing. By then, we’d have plenty of time to prepare… and might even meet his forces at the river banks and stop him before he reaches the shore. We train, lad. Night and day, we train for battle, and are ready for war. There is no bad blood between the two realms. There is no reason for Cordillera to attack. Whoever has been feeding the three of you such twisted tales should be arrested. Talk like that could start a panic. We don’t need that kind of unrest in the kingdom. I am ordering you not to mention any of this to anyone ever again.”

“I appreciate your instruction,” Mykal said.

The knight nodded, as if silently telling Mykal he was most welcome.

“However, it is not you who needs to hear the information we have. It is our king we need to warn,” Mykal said.

“Here we go,” Eadric said softly, but loud enough that it reached Mykal’s ears.

“I’m sorry?” The knight repositioned his fingers on the hilt of his sword. “What was that?”

“I said, it is not you who needs to hear the information we have. Cordillera is summoning magic. He intends to start a war that he cannot lose.”

Both guards went rigid. Their feet were set shoulder length apart. “Sorcery?”

“That’s right,” Mykal said.

“And how do you know this?”

“I saw his wizard. She rides with him,” Mykal said, He sensed Blodwyn tense beside him. He wondered if he was in fact providing too many details.

“She? And what is her name? Where did you see them, here? In the Grey Ashland?”

Mykal did not want the knights knowing they’d been on the west side of the river, that the king and wizard had ambushed them outside the forest just beyond Castle Deed.

“We need to see the king,” Blodwyn said, stepping forward. “We’re wasting time standing here explaining all of this to you, when we are going to be forced to repeat everything once inside the castle.”

“What makes you think you’re getting inside the castle?” the knight said.

“Have you not been listening to anything we’ve said?” Mykal almost growled. He knew he was close to losing his temper. He considered the knights incompetent. It wasn’t their lives he feared for. It was the people he was worried about. They needed as much warning as possible. Unlike the knights, the people didn’t train night and day for battle, readying themselves for war. “People's lives will be in danger!”

“I know three lives that will be in mortal danger if they don’t just turn around and walk away,” the knight said.

“And our message? Will you even tell the king?” Eadric said. “It’s fine if you won’t let us in. We get that. The message though, it needs to reach his ears. He needs to know what the Mountain King is planning.”

“He’ll get the message,” the knight said.

Eadric stared at Mykal, shaking his head. “We don’t need to do anymore,” he said.

“They’re not going to talk to the king. They won’t tell him what we’ve shared,” Mykal said.

“There is a good chance these knights have never even met the king,” Blodwyn said.

Eadric dropped his hands to his sides and took steps backward. “Great.”

“What was that?” the knight said.

Blodwyn cleared his throat. “You’re knights. I’ve no doubt you pass the king now and then in the halls, or the royal stables, and wave to one another. It’s not likely he knows either of your names. I am thinking we are telling the wrong people. Perhaps, kind sir, you can direct us to someone of the king’s Watch. They understand the seriousness of magic. At least with a warning passed on to them, we can be assured the king will receive the message we’ve come to deliver.”

Mykal suddenly understood how Eadric must have felt. Inside he cringed at Blodwyn’s words. He clearly tried inciting the knights, and by the reddened faces that stared back at them, it worked.

“The Watch? We sit higher in ranks than any watchmen,” the knight boasted.

“Be that as it may, where might we find someone of the Watch?” Blodwyn said.

“I’ve already warned the lot of you. You are not to speak of your fabled threats of war to anyone else ever again, that includes bothering even the likes of the Watch,” the knight said. “Now be gone, or we’ll draw our swords.”

“So you don’t believe in magic?” Blodwyn said, slyly.

Mykal looked at his father. Eadric pursed his lips, and rolled his fingers into his palms. His eyes were locked on his son. His head still shook slowly from side to side. He knew what was coming, and didn’t want anything to happen.

“I’ve
no
reason to believe in magic,” the knight said. “Steel wields more power than make-believe curses and oregano potions.”

Blodwyn and Mykal had discussed different minor diversions. They wanted an audience with the king, without too imminent a threat of time in the dungeon.

Mykal held out his arms, palms up. Balls of blue flame erupted onto his hands. He walked toward the knights. Each took several steps backwards. “We wish to speak with the king. A war is coming, and you do not want to be the reason the king was caught off guard.”

They drew swords.

Mykal shook his arms out, extinguishing the flames. “The Mountain King is preparing an attack. Bring us inside the gates.”

Villagers gathered around. They didn’t get particularly close, but Mykal knew he held their attention. The whispers roared around him, and filled his ears. He kept his eyes on the knights, and their weapons. This was his display, and he did not want anyone hurt because of it.

Eadric shouted something.

Blodwyn spun around. He raised an arm across Mykal’s back. Mykal turned just as Blodwyn draped his cloak over Mykal’s shoulders, and most of his head. It wasn’t before he noticed the archer on the parapet loosing an arrow. He winced, ready for the broad-head to pierce his flesh.

The pain never came. Blodwyn dropped his arm and raised his staff.

Somehow the cloak had deflected the arrow.

Mykal looked down.

It had been more than one arrow fired at him. Four lay on the dirt.

Eadric produced two daggers from under his tunic. He held them defensively, standing with his knees bent, his feet moving. He was prepared for a fight. Blodwyn spun his staff around. He held it in his right hand, the head outward, the leg of the staff ran along his forearm, and went well past his elbow. He did not remain still. The two circled Mykal, protectively.

“We need to see the king,” Mykal said. “Either you can escort us, or we will proceed without your help!”

The one knight almost laughed. “You will never leave the castle alive!”

“Let us worry about that,” Mykal said.

It was almost as if time stood still. For long moments no one moved. Not one word was said. Everyone had their eyes focused on the standoff between Mykal and the two knights. The only disturbance was the large falcon circling overhead. It squawked and let the shadow of its wings rotate around, and around, and around.

The knight finally took another step backward. He used a key on a large loop ring to unlock the gate. It rose in the air. He held it, and waved them through. Mykal went first. Eadric and Blodwyn followed close behind. The second knight was last, and lowered and locked the gate once it fell back in place.

“I’ve caught me a wizard?” the knight said, as if talking to himself. Still, he spoke loud enough for every one of them to hear. “I swear I’ve never seen the likes before.”

They were led across the moat and then stopped by palace guards. The first knight explained the situation. The guards eyed Mykal with raised eyebrows.

The falcon had followed them, and was once again circling overheard. The sky was blue, and cloudless, and while the sun was unobstructed, it was misleading. There was something of a chill in the air. It wasn’t cold enough to see one’s breath, but the air was crisp enough to leave a slight burn inside one’s lungs.

Mykal found it invigorating.

One of the guards entered the castle. The knight turned and faced them. “We will wait here. It is not up to King Nabal,” he said.

Mykal assumed there was not much more they could ask. All he wanted was a chance for the people of Grey Ashland to stand a fighting chance. They needed to be warned. It would be best of the king took the threat seriously and rounded up all of his subjects. There was no telling what King Cordillera had in mind. While staying and fighting against him was the only viable option, he already mourned the lives that would be lost.

“That was foolish,” Eadric said. “I just want both of you to know where I stand on this approach.”

“So noted,” Blodwyn said.

“What is that cloak made out of?” Mykal said. “You deflected arrows with it, and there is not so much as a tear in the fabric.”

“It was made for me long ago by a friend,” Blodwyn said. He sounded thoughtful. He stared past Mykal when he spoke.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind one of those,” Mykal said.

“I’ll see what I can come up with,” Blodwyn said.

They stood silent, waiting. The knights kept swords drawn, which made the lone guard appear apprehensive.

From where they stood on the hill, Mykal could see down into the keep. The day carried on as if there had not been a disturbance. The vendors were busy selling stock. Toward the center of town Mykal saw the gallows, although there were no nooses hanging from the support beam. Instead, it was being used as a stage. That was where the mandolin players sat on stools and plucked and strummed the strings of their instruments. The sound of the music carried. In fact, it sounded more clear up next to the castle.

The guard returned. He waved the knights forward. In turn, the knights ushered Mykal, Eadric, and Blodwyn along. The guard took his place back beside the entrance.

Mykal had never been inside a castle before. He wasn’t sure what to expect. There were plenty of windows and natural light. Unlit torches were mounted to the brick walls. A mural of King Nabal hung at the end of the main hall. Red carpet with gold trim covered the polished stone floor. There were tables displaying large gold eggs covered with jewels inside locked glass boxes, and ivory white sculptures of the head and shoulders of people Mykal did not recognize.

“It’s called a bust,” Blodwyn said.