The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion (4 page)

Here Taggart stopped and turned his face from the fire for a moment.  The other people at the circle gave him a moment of respectful silence.  Eventually he turned back and gestured for another sip of sween.  When he finished with the jug he continued.

“With my own eyes I saw King Zander pulled from his mount and killed when the Grey King sprung a trap upon us.  Myself and several others fought to get to his side, but we were driven away.  Then I saw Lord Ruguer, the Sword of the King, torn from his saddle.  Thousands of Greys came sweeping down out of the bluffs into the valley and drove us back.  They had been hidden there by the Grey King who had been advised by a silver Mountain Child.  We were exhausted after hours of combat and had nothing left to give.  Thousands of us, including myself, were struggling to reach the safety of our walls as the enemy that had been hidden up in the bluffs massed for a final assault.”

Taggart leaned back in his chair and poked at the embers with a new stick.  The others gave him the time he needed.

“Then, as we all fled for the safety of the city walls we saw one man, Lord Ruguer, walking toward the enemy instead of away from them.  He was wounded, he was exhausted, and he was resigned to death…but he was not going to abandon the defense of his city and his kingdom.”

Taggart looked up and the others saw a slight smile on his lips.

“And we all just fell in behind him.  I can’t tell you why even though I was there, but that simple act of outrageous bravery just could not be ignored.  We turned and followed him and some even found the strength to run at the enemy. 

“Then we were joined by the warriors from the Coastal Kingdoms.  Thousands of them.  Tens of thousands.  They passed us by and took a warrior’s vengeance on the grey murderers.”

Taggart smiled more broadly then.

“The Greys were defeated, and I killed the Grey King with a chain and slave ball in his own tent.  My little friend was seriously wounded from fighting the other creature which had all of her abilities but none of her kindness.  She survived, as did Lord Ruguer.  The night of his coronation I fell into unconsciousness and awoke back in my other world.”

He looked around at the others. 

“Until today.”

There was silence all around the fire pit as one by one all of the family members looked to Mattus.

“I was there,” Mattus said.  He was staring into the fire with the jug balanced on his lap.  “I saw what the people of Olvion did: the thousands of men and women lying dead on the valley floor.  Ever since that day I have wondered how many of those brave warriors would still be alive were it not for the cowardice of our leaders.”  He took another drink and looked over at Taggart, the firelight turning his eyes to shining coins. “I didn’t see you there, but I heard what you did that day and in the days leading up to the final battle.  I have one question for you Warrior. What can my family do to help you?  Ask and it shall be given.”

Taggart took a deep breath and looked up at the stars.

“I only need two things, a bed for the night and someone to point me in the direction of Olvion.

Dwan decided she was going to return to Olvion.  Her attempt to lessen her emotional anguish by changing her surroundings was not working.  She had hoped that leaving Olvion and not having to see the places where she and Tag-Gar had been so happy would help her to forget.  She thought seeing new sights and meeting new people would dilute the raw hurt that she wrestled with every day.  And, for a few days, it had helped somewhat.  Exploring the layout of the massive medical clinic in Aspell and learning the small differences in treatment between the two kingdoms was interesting.  If she never had to go back to her living quarters and be alone with her thoughts and memories she could probably make it through an entire day without breaking down into tears.

“Stop it!” She often commanded herself.  “You are stronger than this.”  No matter how many times she told herself that, however, she always came to the realization that, no, she wasn’t stronger than that.  Not by a long shot. Tag-Gar was far away from her now.  If he was anywhere on this planet she would already have set out to find him, but how do you search for someone in another world or another dimension?  Why should she have to?  What sin had she committed that was so vile as to bring about the personal hell within which she existed every day?

She had heard the stories.  Some in Olvion claimed he had left on his own accord, off seeking new battles now that the Grey Ones had been vanquished.  Others opined that the mysterious forces that brought him to Olvion had now sent him on to other worlds to right other wrongs there.  Dwan knew the truth, knew it down deep in her sole.  Nothing could have made him leave her if he had the power to stay. 

Dwan had been in her shower the night of the coronation for King Ruguer.  There had been a great ceremony with hundreds of revelers celebrating the new king and paying tribute to the fallen King Zander.  They had walked the halls of the castle singing the songs of Olvion and greeting others as they passed.  She had toweled herself off and returned to the bedroom portion of their small apartment within the castle.  The light shirt and trousers that he’d been wearing were on the floor and a cup of shaving soap was lying on its side in the sink.  His razor was on the floor.  She had opened the door to search the hallway outside even though, in her heart, she knew he was gone.  It took three days before hope finally left her like the last flicker in a dying fire.

So it was that she had accepted the fact that he was gone, most likely back to that exotic world from which he had originally come.  She was still tortured everyday by the thought that he might someday be returned.  If she was going to be miserable, however, she now resolved to be miserable in familiar surroundings.  She had many friends in Olvion and she was still close to the mother of the slain King Zander.  She looked forward to seeing her and offering her services as healer. 

Dwan relaxed a bit.  Now that she had made her decision everything seemed a little less difficult.  She glanced around her living quarters seeing the high ceilings and bright draperies and bed linens.  There was no sense in delaying.  She stood, intending to begin her packing.

Outside of her window the alarm bells rang.

***

Mattus explained his planning to Summ.  She had listened quietly as he laid out his reasoning before saying no.  The retired warrior took in a deep breath to calm himself.  Always it had been like this.  Both of them knew that she would eventually be convinced, but there was a process that must be followed in order for her to receive and digest the information.  This would be an especially difficult plan to sell because it affected one of the children, Toria to be precise. 

“Listen to me, My Love,” he urged.  “She is seventeen summers now.  That is old enough to be mated.  She is totally isolated out here with no chance to meet a young man her age.  We have a plow head waiting for us in Olvion and my nephew, Lyyl, is there now.  We would need to get both him and the plow head out here anyway.  Seeja and I can’t take the time away now.  When will we ever have an opportunity like this again?”

Summ stared at his eyes for a moment longer then dropped her gaze.  Mattus knew he’d won then, but there was still a bit of convincing to be done.

“There is no certainty that Lyyl has arrived at the city yet,” she argued.  “He might have had problems getting released from service.  And, I know this may sound trite, but, just how well do we know this… Tag-Gar?  Can he be trusted with our daughter’s safety?”

She was grasping at straws now.  “Really, Summ?” he asked gently.  “The Legend?  Is there anyone in this entire world that we could trust more?  What dangers might she encounter that he cannot protect her from?  She will pass the farms of other settlers along the way where she can meet young men her age.  In the city she will have several days to make friends with possible suitors.  Then she can show Lyyl the way back here.  Again I say, this is an opportunity that we simply cannot let pass us by.”

There it was, the merest trace of a smile.  It meant that Summ had taken his point, and that she was pleased that her man had made such a wise decision.  She was also happy that he had included her in the development of it.

For her part, Toria was so excited that she could barely keep herself in one spot.  She hadn’t been off of the farm since she had arrived with her family two seasons ago.  The daily chores had been mind-numbing to her even though she had performed them without complaint.  The thought of the upcoming journey was almost too wonderful for her to imagine.  She would see their neighbors, greet her cousin Lyyl and be able to shop in the city markets for goods.  Her mother had made a list of items for her to bring back.  That was all well and good, but there was also the unbelievable opportunity for Toria to spend several days in the company of The Legend.  That would be a story that she would be telling when she was old and withered.  How many people in this world would be able to tell such a story? 

Of course there was another reason for Toria to be so excited.  She had always been intrigued by the thought of meeting Tinker, the white Mountain Child.  To see any Mountain Child was an event that occurred in the lives of very few people.  To see Tinker, however, the very creature who had helped to rout the Grey Ones and save the kingdom of Olvion was an event for which she would gladly trade three fingers.  Yes, she knew that there were no plans to seek out the wonderful animal, but who knew what the sudden reappearance of The Legend might lead to?  Maybe Tinker would seek him out so that the two could be united again.  The stories that had gotten through to her family before leaving Archer’s Gate were that the Mountain Child had stayed with the Healer Dwan for months until she decided to go to the coast where she could try to recover from the pain of her loss. 

That thought stopped the train of imagination that was rolling through the young woman’s head.  Would she be able to talk with him about Dwan along the way?  Perhaps find out the true story there, would he try to find her, fight his way through walls of evil Grey beasts to get to her side?  She could not imagine a more romantic event.  Would he let her help find his love?  Would Toria’s name be spoken around fires in the years to come as part of the story of their reuniting?  It all seemed so wondrous to her.

And so it was that she had gone to bed anticipating disappointment as her mother overruled her father’s plans, but, mere hours after her waking, was now standing with a pack on her shoulders and preparing to embark on what would probably be the most important journey of her life.  For a person with such an excitable personality it was almost too much for her to bear.  The morning was perfect, clear and cool while awaiting the full arrival of the sun.  Birds fussed overhead, and the night insects were getting in their last chirps before hiding from the day.

She heard her mother speaking to her, no doubt listing the thousands of things that she should not do while she was gone.  The words were lost somewhere in her mind among her fantasies and imagined adventures.  It wasn’t until her father spoke that she snapped her attention forward.  Father was not one to ignore. 

He hung a beautifully carved whistle about her neck.  It appeared to have been whittled from bone.  “This is to be used only when you are in danger.  I have told Tag-Gar that you will only use it when your situation is grave.”  He reached into a bag and produced a pair of fingerless gloves.  They were also beautiful, made from a soft brown leather and decorated with colorful beads.  “Your mother made these for you last night.  She had been saving the leather for some work gloves, but these will serve you well when you practice your tooth and claw.”  Toria reflexively moved her hands to the two knives she wore on her belt.  Her father had acquainted her with the weapons when she was ten summers.  Mattus, being a warrior, had made certain that all of his children were able to contribute to the defense of the family. 

Toria slipped the gloves on while watching Mattus speak to Tag-Gar.  She was literally hopping up and down in anticipation.  Markh, watching from the side of the yard, pointed at her and laughed, making a comment into the ear of his older brother.  Toria didn’t care.  She looked to her mother’s face again.  There were tears in her eyes.  Toria’s heart melted a bit, but she was far too excited to go over to her and get her started on another round of instructions.  She knew her mother worried about her safety, but she could not understand why she did not realize that she could not possibly be any safer.  Even Father was not the physical equal of Tag-Gar, The Legend.

Father ended his discussion with the big man.  Tag-Gar nodded, and the two clasped hands in the way of the warrior.  Her traveling companion looked over at her and nodded.   Toria was confused for a moment before realizing that she was the guide here, The Legend was waiting for her to show him the way.  Feeling more proud than she had ever been in her life, Toria hooked her thumbs in the straps of her pack and started out down the pathway which led in the direction of Olvion.  This would be the first day of the three day journey and quite possibly the best day in the young woman’s life.

Kal sat naked upon the sawn wooden floor of his own ship.  The Wind of Aspell had two cabins above the main deck, two smaller ones below decks along with two large crew berth spaces.  Kal was in none of those.  He was sitting in the dank and smelly void which is a hollow shell that separated the outer hull from the inner construction.  The purpose of the void was to add buoyancy and protect the ship from being holed should they strike a reef or submerged hazard.  Now it was Kal’s prison.

It was two days past when he and the crew had jumped and laughed at the sight of sails approaching them from the distant horizon.  The crew had been at sea for twenty days and Kal had been on the verge of turning back.  They were halfway through their stores of dried beef and hard biscuits, and the smoked meat was gone after the tenth day.

Then the lookout had signaled the spotting of the sails, and they had cheered and broken out the watered spirit that they called moog.  Mugs were passed around, and their course had been altered.  When they were finally close enough to see details they saw there was a total of three ships, all of them flying huge green sails.  On the top of their main masts flew a two-legged banner which was white with a bright red eye painted in the middle.

An hour later the ships could be seen to be manned by large crews.  It was the sight of those crews that caused Kal to interrupt his celebrating even as it went on around him.  Gann, the ship’s captain had walked quietly up beside him.  Gann was not celebrating either.

“They’re a rough-looking lot, are they not?” Kal asked.

“Aye.  Plenty rough,” the captain replied.  “Would you be thinking that our men should quietly arm themselves?  Before they get any closer?”

Kal looked at the face of the old ship captain.  He bore the stamp of a life on the water, his naturally light brown skin burned darker by the sun.  His face was lined and his forearms were massive from pulling on lines and climbing the mast-works.  He wore a simple sleeveless white jerkin and tough black linen trousers.

Kal took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  He mentally sorted through the instructions given to him by his king.  This was to be a venture of discovery.  The whole point of it was to seek out and establish a relationship with previously unknown civilizations.  They had valuable gifts in their hold which were to be given to the people of any such kingdoms and, if possible, a treaty should be reached and trade goods decided upon. 

Those goals would be jeopardized if their first meeting with these people was a violent one.

“No Captain,” Kal answered.  “We have our instructions, and we will carry them out.  Let us put on our best faces.”

The Captain made a sound that was much like the growl of a cur.  He pointed a plump finger at the crewmen lining the rails of the newly-discovered ships.  Many held grappling hooks tied to sturdy ropes.  The three ships had now spread out and gotten into a position to come up on the Wind of Aspell on both sides and from behind.

“It matters not now anyway Good Engineer,” Gann said.  “We have been flanked and all of their ships have more sail than we do.  We couldn’t outrun them if we tried.  The Stars hold our fate now.  Let us pray they favor us.”

The men had swarmed onto Kal’s ship in a manner which left no doubt that such action had not been their first time.  There had been a smattering of resistance from Kal’s crew, but he and Gann had quickly ordered them all to stand down.  There was nothing to be gained from getting them slaughtered.  Afterward they had been separated from their crew whom the pirates had divided up and taken aboard the other ships.  What happened to them after that Kal had no idea. 

Kal and Captain Gann had been put into one of the upper cabins where they were guarded until the door opened and a man entered.  He was dressed much more colorfully than the rest of his crewmen with calf-high black leather boots, linen trousers and a leather vest with a blousy green shirt underneath.  His upper lip glistened with sweat from the heat, and he delicately wiped it away with a rag.  He was a tall man for this world, which is to say he was about five feet, eight inches tall.  There was a foppishness about him which seemed inconsistent with the image of a pirate and outlaw.

“My name is Tallun,” he said in a high voice.  “I am the leader of this fleet and the Captain of the Necromancer.”  He paused slightly as if he expected them to recognize the name.  When no such recognition materialized he walked up to Kal and smiled showing surprisingly white teeth.

“Are you the Captain?” he asked.

Gan took a step forward.  “I am the captain of this vessel.  What have you done with my crew?”

One of the guards made as if to push Gann back, but he was waved away by the newcomer.

“Relax, Captain.  Your men are safe, and they are being well-treated.  You are to be commended, not all Captains ask about the welfare of their crew before seeing to their own safety.”  He held his smile while he sidestepped over to Kal.  “And who would you be?  Let me guess; you are the nobleman who owns this beautiful ship.”

Kal had a momentary flash of pride at the mention of his ship’s appearance.  “No, I am no nobleman, and I do not own this ship.  The people I represent have no nobility, only equal citizens.  I am the engineer who designed this brig.  We are on our maiden voyage and under orders to seek out new friends with whom we can trade.”

The man pointed his finger at Kal and raised his brows.  “Orders?  You claim you have no nobility in your land.  Who, then issued these orders?”

Gann butted in.  “His Majesty King Tyner of the kingdom of Aspell, is who.  He will not take kindly to the way you have treated his citizens.”

The man studied Gann intently for a moment before the smile returned.  He turned to the guard whom he had addressed before.  “I’m confused, Bonn.  The one claims no nobility in his land while the other boasts of a king who will severely chastise us for our actions.”  He sat on the edge of the chart table.  “You,” he pointed at Kal.  “Are you already telling me lies?  I’ve only known you for a few moments yet you insult me with your lack of honesty.”

Kal grew angry.  He had been holding himself in check because of the situation that he and his men found themselves in.  He did not want his temper to result in harm being visited upon his crew.  This latest accusation however, was too much for him to hold back.  “We of Aspell do not dishonor ourselves with lies.  Our system of government is much too complicated to relate in a few words.  I fear it would take quite a number of words before one such as you would understand.” 

A few of the guards tensed, but their leader shook his head and wiped his lip again.  He walked slowly over to the Captain’s desk and examined the items on top.  He picked up a silver inkwell and showed it to the man standing closest to him.  He replaced the item and walked around the room with his hands clasped behind his back.  Finally, he seemed to arrive at a decision.  He walked back over to Kal. “I don’t believe you.  Kings with no noblemen to enforce his rule?  Only the people of the Kylee live their lives unyoked in that manner.  Our flag bears the Eye of Kylee, and since I see no such flag on your vessel you may consider it seized.”  Gann lurched forward with his hands aimed for the neck of the pirate leader, but he was immediately overpowered by two of the guards.  Tallun looked at them, and jerked his head in the direction of the door.  The two dragged Gann out of the cabin.  Tallun watched the activity and smiled when the door shut.  “I like him,” he said.  He turned his attention back to Kal.  “Now then, Lord Engineer, where is your Kingdom?”

Kal had refused to answer, and he had been taken to the voids.  He expected to be tortured and had steeled himself to tell his captors nothing.  He prayed to the Stars that the crew would be strong enough to resist.  Under no circumstances could he allow the location of Aspell to be discovered by this band of pirates or whatever they were.  Kal was unaware of the size or strength of these Kylee fleets, but revealing the location of his kingdom would imperil all of the Coastal Kingdoms and that of Olvion as well.  With Olvion’s army being largely depleted from the Great War, all of the kingdoms would be in danger.

He knew he had been locked away for two days because every morning the ship’s bell rang, and whomever was on watch announced the arrival of first light.  Kal had not been stripped of his clothing, he was naked because he had removed his clothes in an effort to deal with the insufferable heat in the voids.  Several times he had attempted to open the hatch, but it had been tightly dogged down from the outside.  Sounds from the other side indicated that there was a guard there anyway.

At about midday there were sounds at the hatch.  The portal was opened, and two of his captor’s crewmen beckoned for him to follow them.  He gave a brief thought to trying to overpower them, but they both carried truncheons in their hands.  Besides, Kal was honest enough with himself to know that he was not a fighter.  He had put in the required years of warrior training when he was younger, but no one really expected him to be a soldier.  He was always a man of letters and scrolls, and loved educating himself.  The years that he had since spent in libraries and universities had robbed him of much of the muscle that he had once had.  So he pulled on his trousers and followed.

Kal was taken up to the main deck where he was surprised to see all hands gathered.  The man who had called himself Tallun was there along with the huge sailor that he had previously referred to as Bonn.  With alarm Kal saw that Gann had been gagged and tied to the main mast.

Seeing his friend in such a situation filled him once more with overpowering anger.  “Is this your idea of proper treatment of our crew?” he demanded of Tallun.

The pirate leader was frowning as he examined Gann.  “No.  This is most decidedly not proper treatment.  I fear we now have even more for which to answer to your noble king.  Of course…” the man made a show of looking about himself, “…your noble king is not here.”  He paused as his crew laughed.  “I must tell you I have enjoyed speaking with your crew.  I confess I am very much impressed with the manner in which they have been prepared for a situation such as this.  To a man they all swore to the fiction of your form of government.  Really now, a King who is voted into office and can be removed by the people themselves should he fail to measure up?”

Kal started to confirm the manner of government adhered to by all four of the kingdoms in known existence up until now, but Tallun raised a hand to stop him.  “Please, Lord Engineer, save your breath.  I fear you will need it.  You see, we are at a critical point in our…negotiations with your crew.”  There was more laughter which Tallun stopped with a raised hand.  “Try as we might we have been unable to extract a location for your kingdom.  Your gallant Captain, a man for whom I have no small amount of admiration, has refused to furnish us with this small piece of information.  Even the deaths of several of his crew loosened no tongues.”  Tallun wrinkled his brow as if in deep thought.  “So, I am afraid we have come to a point in our discussions where more incentive is called for.”

Kal felt two emotions competing for dominance within his consciousness.  The first was overpowering pride at the knowledge that his crew had resisted whatever hellish tortures had been visited upon them by their captors.  At least up until now, the location of Aspell was still kept secret from these criminals.  The second emotion was absolute fear that it was now evidently his turn to be questioned.  He prayed to the stars for strength.

As Kal watched, Tallun beckoned to one of his crewman, one of the ugliest humans that Kal had ever before beheld.  The man produced a double-headed axe that he had been hiding behind his back.  He handed it to his Captain.

Kal must have reacted to the sight of the weapon because the rest of the crew erupted into laughter again.

Tallun waited until it died out.  Then he slowly advanced upon the engineer with the axe in both hands.  “Now, this is where the process gets unpleasant, I’m afraid.  I have decided that the people of Kylee should visit this kingdom from which you have come.  We bear your people no ill will.  We simply wish to discover for ourselves if this magical place where citizen and King are equal exists.

“Now then, since we have had no success with your crew and the noble Captain, I have no one else except you to ask.  Even patience such as mine eventually grows thin, so this is how we will do this.  I will ask you one question only.  If you refuse to answer, I will remove one of the good Captain’s limbs, let us say… his left leg.”

Kal froze.  Resisting torture to himself was one thing, but watching a good friend being brutally maimed was something else again.  As frightening as that prospect was, Kal knew that he would not be able to comply with this maniac’s wishes.  The lives of Gann and all of the crew were not so valuable that their beloved kingdom could be endangered in trade.

Tallun took a long look at Kal.  He then turned to look at the gagged figure of the Captain.  He shook his head, then took two slow practice swings with the axe.  He then again faced Kal.  “Now then, here is my question, and bear in mind that it must be answered in terms that my navigators and quartermasters can decipher.”  He paused for a brief moment, then asked, “Where is your kingdom.”

Kal stood on the deck of the ship he had designed feeling totally helpless but resigned.  In his heart Kal knew that Gann would understand, indeed he would approve.  Aspell’s Chief Engineer stood as tall as he could.  He looked directly into the outlaw chief’s eyes.  “You can kill every man in my crew, including myself, but I will never give you what you seek.”