Read The Invisible Chains - Part 2: Bonds of Fear Online
Authors: Andrew Ashling
Tags: #Romance MM, #erotic MM, #Fantasy
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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“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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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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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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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