The Last Pass

The men of Stone did not have very amicable relations with the men from Attarock but it had never been very fatal either. However, Cyneburg had come to relent his decision. He was forty and one, his years had taken a toll on him. Cyneburg’s skin had changed its color and he had been forced to completely shave his head. but he had kept his long beard.

Beyond the lake people had been known to live for more than a century. The land before the lake, although was another story. There was no barricade from the winds and water. His health was frail and the lands were jeopardous.

He did not care for himself, it was his son, a boy of fifteen that scared him the most. Beside Stryder, Cyneburg only had Daiman and a fair share of uncles and cousins to protect him, but they could not do anything if Attarock was to be sieged.

Stryder was an excellent warrior, a fair disposer of justice and did have a fair share of cunning, but Cyneburg wondered how long and how many would it take his son to put the three of them to good use.

There hadn’t been any sand storm for a few days and he was really grateful for that. He looked at his men and realized that a delay of a few days would mean death.

Of the seven hundred he and Jackob Hall, the administrator of Landbreakers had rallied back towards the east that also included the Elemental guard that Stonians had put together for his kingdom.

Cyneburg knew what they meant. The Stonians had now been the revenue collectors too long and his men and most of the men before the lake had grown suspicious of the westerners and could cause mayhem anytime. So to strengthen their already heavily armed forces in the east, they sent more of their men.

All of this for the petty sum that they had been vilely collecting. As the last place in the Realm from where the last Over Lord, Xereus the First in his lineage, had ruled the Stonians, most of which include men who were or at least claimed to be his descendants, had claimed the minimal revenue.

A rebellion or even a storming would mean death and blood on the hands of his castle and his family. None of the messengers falcons had returned. Cyneburg would order camps at the place where he would liberate the falcons. But they wouldn’t return for days. He had only despatched them for Sal Veor. Any message that reached Sal Veor could be hoped to be delivered safely to his home.

“Administrator Jackob, Jackob Hall!” Cyneburg shouted as Jackob raced past rallying the lines.

“Yes, my King.” The man came back

“I’m no king right now. I made Stryder the King when I left the castle, it is a different thing that he does not acknowledge the fact”

“A move in which I see some wit and some folly. However, why do need me right now Cyne?”

“Oh, is it that way now Jack, a king  or nothing.”Cyneburg smiled wearily but Jackob returned it with an ear to ear grin. Older than him and almost fifty, Jackob was still the fiercest rider that Cyneburg had within his ranks and his most trusted general that Jackob had come across in twenty years. The man was similar to his daughter in many ways, both of them similar hair and eyes and only differed because of Quirina’s outwards poking face. “I believe, you still have your Hawk”

Jackob had detected the grim expression. “I know that we are running out of food, but that does not mean that you will eat my hawk, Cyne.”

Cyneburg laughed at the jest. Almost blind in one eye, Jackob’s hawk was the only thing that warned him of any attack coming in from his left. “I don’t need him for food. Your garron will come before your hawk anyways” it was always fit to return a jest, even in troubled times. “What I need is that my message be delivered to a beyonder. That I need some troops” he gestured to Jackob to come closer “to ambush us and kill as many as these Stonians as possible”

“Pathetic, Disgusting, Unchivalrous!” Jackob spat “why Desert men. Wouldn’t it be most un host type behaviour to kill a fifth of our host just so we are rid of taxes”

“I just mean to do this to rid us of some potential terrors”

“What I meant was that, Cyne, wouldn’t it be mysterious if someone, say a band of hired metals ambushed us and scattered us ” he cocked a brow

“Very, very, and” he smiled “I don’t think that these Stonians would prefer to regroup rather than going back to All Stone” but his brow tightened “however, I do not see how a group of  hired metals will be smart enough in distinguishing between someone they are supposed to kill and supposed to protect”

“Ah! I should have thought of that. Do you know by any chance that there is a small pass. The narrowest of them all, just enough for seven men to pass side by side. Now, if we could be by any chance a bit separated . By, say a standard bearer who was known to the hired metals.” Cyneburg started smiling “What’s that smile, Cyne?”

“Its a smile wishing that tomorrow comes faster”

Chapter 3

The Summoning

It was warm like never before and Quirina had been summoned, or as the sentries would say to soften that - ‘requested in court’.

Lambert was standing alone in the court’s throne door. It was a kind of back stage where administrators and ladies rehearsed vile news that they oft brought with them before announcing them beside the high seat of the administrator of Landbreaker isles.

The short old man was going through informative papers, scratching his recently shaved face. As a sign of grief Lambert had shave his beard when Quirina’s father left for the Stone. He was a man well past his forties and most of his hair had abandoned him which contrasted with the fact that his eyes seemed to climb his forehead and his nose was slashed. Lambert had done most of Quirina’s work while her father was at the Stone. So, whatever work required of her must have been one of a diplomatic purpose. She had cut her hair short but still her head seemed to heat up like a hearth“What is it Lambert?”

“Quirina” very few dare call Quirina by her name but she did not mind when Lambert, who was as important in her royal life as her father, did so. He gave her a gentle kiss on the hand. “A messenger is here a rather important one”

“A messenger” when he said that her heart started thumping. Her father was off for the Stone in the black slate of the night without the  Royal Guard. But she dare not show her anxiousness. People and messengers seldom rode half their way into the lakes and onto the isles just to inform of bad news when the message was grief.

Quirina’s hawk zoomed into the room and perched atop her stop rib. Castle or not, Quirina was eternally in an armor “Must be a good bearer” she opened the heavy throne door “I’ll deal with him”

“No…” But she had already burst into the room. The messenger too was in armor. The silver grey was a kind of offense to the all the displays. But the armor was way too splendid for his prescribed stature and left no sign of skin or leather, making the wearer look like a man of metal. There was the eclipsed Sun of Attarock painted on the overcloth over his armor. And almost as an act of blasphemy the man had chosen to wear his helmet.

“Greetings, administratorQuirina Hall. I am here from Attarock.”

“Then you have come a long way. Tell me, without delay what is the purpose of your visit.” Quirina was too excited and aghast at the same time. She took a seat on her father’s seat “Has administrator of Attarock, what was his name…?” A few maids sighed as if her words had insulted them. They were not from Attarock, they were Landbreakers. She gave a frown of disappointment, such trivial facts should not have troubled the descendents of one of the most tough, cut throat people in The Realm.

“No, administrator Cyneburg is yet to return from the Stone, same as the administrator of the Landbreakers”the messenger said.

“Then, my good man, why are you here. I don’t think you are a messenger. Remove your helm.” her hawk screeched in agreement “Even if you are the Overlord, which you can’t be because they die as soon as they come into power”Half the court laughed. Lambert slipped or rather fell and picked himself up and regained his posture “Why is everyone so dull today? So”  she fixed her eyes upon the eye slit “come here, and remove that helmet, Knight of the Eclipse and what not.” she smiled and left the seat for the Prince’s royal bottom

“Oh, so you do recognize me.” Stryder climbed up the stairs of the stage. He warmly hugged her and he removed his helmet.

“Of course. A man with such false titles is sporadically forgotten. Not to mention your pale skin. Very few live men can claim that shade for their skin and that pale shade of purple for those ridiculous eyes.” Again the court gasped but Quirina knew that a man such as Stryder was rarely hurt by words Sword and sticks can sometimes be useless in front of words. But not for the people of Attarock.

“As can no one forget your hedgehog excuse for  hair.”

“Why do you bless us with us your royal presence, oh royal this of royal that.” A few people again gasped and that amused Stryder very much. He laughed as he set back into the chair. Quirina chose a chair right next to him.

“For some really serious reasons I must say. Now” he donned a the ruler’s tone but still smiled “to address serious matters. We have to...”

“Afterwards, prince. First let us amaze the court of how did the Prince get such a stunning dress.” Some court holders fainted as if she had declared war on Attarock and Landbreakers was going to be plundered “shut up people!” she shouted in a most not accustomed to court tone and then gently turned to Stryder “yes, so, I  hope you are not hurt. Can you now tell where did you get that dress.”

“Oh, I was confronted by nine people and they asked me to slay a creature and was promised gifts” Quirina smirked, almost sure that Stryder was joking. But he had a straight face and that reduced her smirk to an uncertain smile “nine gifts, not just two or three”

“Was that a full moon night, by any chance?” Quirina asked.

“Oh, so you people do know that. So, I was put in the front of the beast.” everyone was confused, not sure whether they were being mocked or tested if they could keep a straight face “Except it wasn’t a beast! It was one of those mountain lions that are so hard to catch, I did think that no one would believe me I had slain one or seen one unless they had seen me with it. So, I ask…”

“‘Why shall I slay the beast?’, that is enough of your mocking, oh Knight of the Eclipse. Everyone knows the story of the ‘Kindness of the administrator’, and let me guess, they gave it to you without any combat”

“No.Just listen. So, I ended its life after hours of battle. Its skin was as hard as the armor I wore and when I killed him I was given the prizes. And the lion.”

“I think you haven’t had sleep, young prince, you just said you killed him”

“I sure did. He was returned to life. I was told that the man who kills him, controls him. Here I’ll call him.”

Stryder did not say a single word but Quirina knew that there had been an invitation to the feline and mist fell into the castle as men hushed to herald the arrival of the cat.

It was a grand thing. Although seeming to blend to most of the dark court, the cat seemed to attract enough attention.

The feline silently crept up to the high seat followed by the Attarock Sentinels “People say that I have kicked off the Age of Conquest by disagreeing to the new terms of the taxes and removing administrators from the city states. But I have just given us a reason to test the sharpness of our blades.” Said the king, half sitting, half dangling from the seat.

Chapter 2

The Prodigal Son returns

                There was a heavy knock on the door. Daiman Resark understood that he had locked himself longer than he should have. He batted his eyes twice or thrice, slowly getting out of his bed Daiman adjusted his tunic and vest.  “I am coming.”

                There were footsteps, the young prince understood that whoever was out had gone. He flexed his muscles a bit before he picked up a mirror. He looked into it, he did not know what to expect but the mirror failed to elevate his mood anyhow. His eyes were the same blood red as they had been, his irises still strikingly crimson.As long as his face was concerned, Daiman had a good frame, admired and loved by many but his face never did content him, Running his hand through his curly hair, Daiman walked out of his room.

                 Swiftly reaching for his short sword he descended from his tower. Beneath the tower, the halls were lighted with dim streak capacited torches, marble statues of legendary heroes stood vigil. Even though Daiman had spent most of his childhood exploring them, the halls of the palace of Attarock remained a mystery to him.  Every time that he bent down by a corner or lowered his eyes, there would be some part that he felt he was noticing for the first time.

                It isn’t the first time you idiot, you have seen so many things that you are forgetting the older things. Daiman smiled when he remembered what Styder had said. The crown prince of Attarock was Daiman’s brother, mentor and had many times acted as a father would. But Stryder wasn’t here. Neither was their father, King Cyneburg.

                Shushing the negative thoughts, Daiman headed towards the High Hall. All the halls that lead to the High Hall were heavily guarded and better lit than the halls beneath Daiman’s tower. The walls at the end of the hall were decorated with flags of the Priest Federation. Hans was observing one of them.

                They looked absolutely disgusting to Daiman. Two black circle enclosed triangles that were connected by the same horizontal tanget. When Daiman went to Hans the short man spoke softly “The Scales of Sunniva.”

                   Daiman looked at them with contempt, then spat. Hans looked at him as if he had spat at him, his small eyes lowered themselves but Daiman could see the detestation that the scholar carried. Paying no heed, he pushed the large ivory doors, directly entering the curved High Hall. True to its designation, the halls were one hundred and fifty feet high – speckled with balconies veiled by translucent sparkling silver, from where the women of the royal families would observe the processions below.

             When he entered the hall, Daiman knew he was facing the best trained warriors in the northern deserts. Not exactly facing, they had their faces turned away. There was the High Priest, bald and ageing, just right of the seat on which the patriarch of the Resark family would seat himself. Rather, the patriarch of the Rock family, Resark was the name that people from noble lines called the Rocks.

                   The seats that faced the High Seats were arranged in a segment of a circle fashion. There were two paths leading to the elevated tables that were surrounded by the High Seats. Daiman's mother, his uncles Chad and Pierk were waiting for him, A High Priest and his words on a High Seat, As worthy as a brown sheep's bleat.

                  He was only able to see the High Priest's face. The man was way above seventy, he had lived ten years than he should have. His face was an eyesore. Watery grey eyes bulged out of a completely bald face, his nose was an abrupt stroke on broken canvas. The Priest had as many followers as he had haters. He had a notorious reputation for burning anything that opposed religion. 

                    Daiman took the left way, for no reason.His footsteps reverberated in the silent hall, his knee high sandals made more noise than all of the men that talked in whispers. All of them turned to face Daiman, he felt as if someone had directed a cold wind towards him.