The Invisible Chains - Part 2: Bonds of Fear (32 page)

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Authors: Andrew Ashling

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beams could fall down.”

Anaxantis fixed his steel-gray eyes upon the man.

“I’ll risk it. Open the doors, please.”

The man began sweating heavily and looked at his colleagues for

help.

“Lethoras, let your men get some of those banks in the other

room, and use them to ram the doors,” Anaxantis said calmly, keeping

his eyes on the group of cowering Elders.

One of them opened his pouch.

“Maybe this one will fit,” he said timidly, proffering a key.

Lethoras yanked it out of his hands with a sneer of disgust.

Moments later he pushed the doors open and waited for Anaxantis

to enter.

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249

“That’s more like it,” the prince said approvingly, looking around.

“Rich tapestries, a fine, carved oaken table and soft cushioned chairs.

I particularly love the inlaid floor.”

He turned to the Elders with a blank expression.

“It seems the workmen forgot to tell you that they finished the

job. No falling stones or beams. Gentlemen, there are a few things I

wanted to tell you. Let’s begin.”

The head Elder went to take his seat. Anaxantis made a sign to

Lethoras, who immediately stopped the man. Without haste the lord

governor went over to the head of the table and sat down in the seat

of the head Elder.

“Now then. I have a few announcements to make.”

One of the elders pulled back a chair to sit down.

“I don’t remember inviting you to to be seated,” Anaxantis said

coldly, but without raising his voice.

The man startled, mumbled a vague, unintelligible excuse and

remained standing.

“Until now Mirkadesh hasn’t contributed to the defense of the

Northern Marches. This state of things is intolerable and ends now.

The county will provide six patrols of one hundred man each and

will fully equip them. They will be grouped into two divisions of

three patrols. The Mirkadesh Guard will operate under my direct

command. I will appoint the division captains and the patrol leaders.

Only the last will be of local stock.”

He paused. The Elders looked at each other in utter confusion.

Finally the head Elder took a step forward.

“My lord,” he began, groping for words, “as we already explained

to your brother, months and months ago, we simply haven’t the

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means. We are of course more than willing to give you whatever

assistance we can, but we have no weapons, no reserves and we need

every able bodied man and woman to till the fields. Moreover—”

“Shut up,” Anaxantis said, raising his hand in an impatient

gesture. “I didn’t give you permission to speak. I neither request, nor

do I require your consent or approval. I’m telling you what is going

to happen. I know what you told my brother. It is I who make the

decisions now, and I am not he.”

“By what authority? Mirkadesh has a charter, given to us by the

last count and ratified by king Herruwold VI, that guarantees our

right to govern ourselves,” the Elder said, all pretense of subservience

gone from his voice.

“Did I forget to mention that? Your charter is abrogated as of

today.”

“You can’t just abolish a charter that was ratified by the king.”

“Herruwold VI Long-Sword is long since dead. The dynasty

of Ronnoumark doesn’t rule anymore. I have the authority of the

current king, Tenaxos I of the House of Tanahkos. Believe me, your

charter is annulled and done away with.”

“He should have done that to begin with, instead of letting them

walk all over him,”
Anaxantis thought, irritated.

“This is outrageous. We will lodge a complaint with the king.”

“Not very soon, you will. You’ll have other troubles to attend to. I

am placing Mirkadesh under martial law and all of you under arrest.”

“Again: by whose authority?” the Elder shouted.

“By that of the warlord of Mirkadesh.”

Anaxantis stared at the man, as if daring him to say another word.

“General Demaxos,” he said to Lethoras, “I hereby appoint you

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251

military governor of our county of Mirkadesh. Take these men down.

Put them in that insult of a room they wanted to receive us in, until I

have decided what to do with them.”

“Warlord of Mirkadesh?” Hemarchidas smiled when they were

the only two left in the big room.

“Warlord of Amiratha and Mirkadesh, actually.” Anaxantis

grinned. “It’s just a title, Hemarchidas, just a title.”

“Our county of Mirkadesh?”

“An, eh, embellishment. Purely for effect. A slight exaggeration,

perhaps.”

“An anticipation, maybe, of things to come?”

Anaxantis laughed quietly, but didn’t elaborate, and Hemarchidas

knew better than to insist.

“It’s done,” Lethoras said coming into the room. “As we suspected

there were dungeons in the basement. The Elders are in separate

cells. All servants and personnel of the County House will be retained

here, pending our investigations. I have put units on all the roads and

four units are patrolling around the village. Nobody will get out or in

the place unnoticed.”

“Good,” Anaxantis said. “I want you to start drafting the males

from eighteen years and upwards into the Mirkadesh Guard, first

thing tomorrow. As soon as you have a patrol’s worth, march them

off to the camp of the Amirathan Militia near Dermolhea. I want them

on unfamiliar terrain, surrounded by a multitude of people they don’t

know. Train them for eight hours a day at least, preferably ten. I want

them exhausted by the evening. Organize surprise exercises in the

middle of night. After a few weeks on that regime, interrogate them.

Every little detail can be important. Sooner or later one of them who

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knows something will break. Will you need reinforcements?”

“I don’t think so. No, I will manage.”

“Find their treasure. They must have reserves. I want to know

just how much they managed to hoard away.”

At that moment Marak came into the room with an absent look

on his face.

“Anything the matter, Marak?” Anaxantis asked.

“Huh? Oh... no, no, not really. It’s just that I can’t seem to remember

something. Ah, yes... I wrote the most important stuff in a note to

Tomar. One of the Clansmen is riding to Lorseth as we speak. He will

tell Tomar all that happened here, and together with the information

I wrote down, he can draft the necessary documents to make your

decisions official. Or as official as is possible.”

“Well, I think we covered everything,” Anaxantis said. “What is it

you can’t quite remember, Marak,”

“After I had given the Clansman his instructions, I went outside

for a breath of air. I thought I recognized a man who was crossing the

square. Mid thirties, long, black hair and an almost imperceptible

limp. Before I could place him he was gone.”

He shrugged.

“Must be my imagination. After all, there was nothing very

distinctive about him, except that almost unnoticeable limp. I must

be mixing him up with someone else. Never mind, it will come to me

eventually.”

“I know the feeling,” Anaxantis said. “Very annoying. If you’re

like me, it will come to you at a time when you are thinking about

something else altogether.”

“Probably,” Marak agreed, taking a seat. “So, tomorrow you’re off

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253

to the Plains.”

Anaxantis’s eyes lighted up.

“Yes. Finally. I can’t wait. Tomorrow night we will camp on the

Renuvian Plains.”

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Gerrubald of Damydas had made good headway and entered

Ormidon on the same day that Anaxantis placed Mirkadesh under

martial law. He hadn’t taken any special precautions until then, but

upon arriving at the outskirts of the capital, he ordered his escort of

eight soldiers to leave him and go to the royal castle on their own.

He gave them his horse and continued his journey, alone and on foot,

carrying a large satchel over his shoulders.

In a tavern, just inside the city walls, he hired a room and changed

into the simple workman’s clothes he had brought with him. Then

he waited until evening and made his way to the castle. The place

never slept. There was bread to be baked, food to be prepared, and

all kinds of maintenance jobs were more conveniently carried out at

night.

Before one of the smaller gates he joined a group of waiting

workmen and engaged one of them in a long winded conversation

about the weather, the rising price of food and the uncivilized

behavior of the youth of today. From a distance it looked as if they

were old friends.

Finally a door in the gates opened, and the men filed inside.

“Still nothing?” Sobrathi asked.

“Maybe,” Emelasuntha answered, not sure whether what she

was think about was important or not. “Just one little anomaly. Our

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255

scouts almost forgot to mention it. A group of eight soldiers arrived

today at the castle, covered in dust. They didn’t return from some

patrol or a local assignment. They had obviously made a long voyage.”

“Was Damydas among them? Disguised perhaps?”

“I don’t think so,” the queen mused. “But maybe his horse was.”

“His horse?”

“There were nine of them. For eight soldiers.”

“Ha. I see. Still, it is all so flimsy, dear. We’re not even sure Damydas

went to Nira. It’s all conjecture.”

“I know, I know.” Emelasuntha sighed. “We have nothing solid to

go on for the moment. It drives me mad.”

“Maybe one of the few men we still have in the castle will be able

to give us something more tangible,” Sobrathi said, trying to sound

optimistic.

“I hope so. Every gate is watched. Not so much for who enters,

but for who leaves. If he went to Nira, if Tenax gave him a commission

to go to the North... If, if, if... We can’t permit him to slip through the

net.”

“Meanwhile we have about thirty of the best trained Tribesmen

here. Another group of eighty is at the Sermyn farm where they won’t

draw attention. When needed they can be here in under four hours.”

“I’m so tired of waiting and doing nothing. We can’t even make

plans to eliminate the bastard until we know more about how he is

going to proceed from here,” the queen said.

“Well, he isn’t likely to go alone, is he?”

“I wouldn’t put it beyond him, but no, you’re probably right. He’ll

travel with an escort of Black Shields. The road is too dangerous for

a man alone.”

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“Any idea how you are going to prevent him from reaching the

Northern Marches?”

“Generally speaking?” the queen asked in a surprised tone. “Of

course I have, dear. We will lie in ambush for him and his party on

the first convenient, deserted stretch of road. We take them deep

into the forest and kill his men, one by one, before his eyes. Then I

will start asking questions. You know how I do these things, dear.”

“Yes, indeed. I do.”

Bonds of Fear

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