Shadowblade (22 page)

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Authors: Tom Bielawski

Tags: #Fantasy, #Speculative Fiction by Tom Bielawski

BOOK: Shadowblade
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The air was cold and the winter wind was brisk, but winters were not severe in Hybrand. Unlike the lands of the northern Cklath, snow rarely fell in any great amount here and rarely stayed on the ground when it did. There were no signs of snow this day and the skies were blue and clear over the cobalt sea.

He brought his attention to the task at hand, and resumed scanning the horizon. Today was the day. Today, Cannath would bring retribution to the hated Arnathian General who had truly ruled over Hybrand. All was ready now. Loyal Cklathmen had been positioned in numbers around Hybrand City and teams of Spiders were in place and prepared to wreak havoc on the enemy. Cannath was not pleased with having to ally himself with the Spiders; however, he tabled his disdain for the greater good. He idly wondered if he was trading the evil he knew for an evil he didn’t, but Gavinos assured him there was nothing to fear from either the Spiders or Commander Coronus.

Cannath’s heart lurched at the sight of the speck on the horizon. It was only a speck, yet Cannath instinctively knew it was a large ship. Patiently he watched and waited, peering through the immense centuries-old spyglass placed atop the tower. The ship was black with black sails and appeared to be wispy and indistinct. He was at first unsure if this ship heralded the arrival of his army, until he saw the seal of Shalthazar emblazoned upon the main sail. He was told what to look for. Cannath’s spirits lifted; soon he would be paying Craxis back for all the shame and humility he had been forced to endure at the hands of that insufferable old man.

Cannath watched and waited for more ships, but they never came. Slowly, the black ship crept closer yet there was still no sign of more ships following in its wake. He wondered if there had been bad weather or an attack by the Arnathian Fleet, but he doubted the latter. Cannath knew that the majority of Craxis’ fleet had been called away to aid in quelling uprisings elsewhere in the empire, forcing the old general to rely on ground based supplies.

Somewhat mollified by the fact that there would be little in the way of sea power to obstruct his plans, Cannath continued to watch the ship grow larger and larger. He saw sweeping oars jut out from the sides of the ship every now and then, only to be pulled back in. Cannath had been an officer in the Arnathian Army in his youth and had been involved in some amphibious assaults by sea. He recalled that some larger ships often employed oarsmen to aid when the winds were too weak, or to navigate treacherous waters. But the waters of Hybrand Bay were deep and clear and there was nothing to collide with.

“Gavinos!”

“Yes, My Prince?”

“It appears our reinforcements have arrived,” he said trying to appear outwardly calm. Inwardly he cursed all elves for their infamous habit of failing to provide details, such as the small detail that there was only one ship coming. “Fire the watch light, signal our men to stand ready.”

How many troops could possibly fit in the belly of one ship?
he thought angrily. He desperately hoped it would be enough to fight the fearsome Arnathian regulars and that he would not be sending his people to slaughter. A failed coup would surely lead to his execution and would likely cement the Arnathian death grip on Hybrand.

“Let us go and meet Lord Commander Coronus, My Prince,” said Gavinos, a bit too eagerly. The pair descended from the tower to the port below and Cannath’s mind raced with possibilities; good and bad. As they exited the tower a company of the old Royal Guard was waiting and escorted the prince and his adviser. Although the Royal Guard had been banned by their Arnathian rulers, Cannath had called them back to service and their ranks swelled with willing recruits. Boldly, his men now displayed the banned symbols of the Hybrandese Royal Guard and a standard bearer carrying the colors and arms of the Hybrand Royal House proudly marched before them, the great black eagle on a golden flag rippling in the breeze.

Cannath took the place of command off to the side of the formation as they boldly marched down the broad avenue toward the Port of Hybrand. He surged with pride as he noticed onlookers gathering along the route to the port. By now word had spread of the arrival of the ship in the bay. The presence of Prince Cannath leading a formation of armed Cklathish Royal Guardsmen in the face of Arnathian Decree, and the sight of him wearing his own princely armor, caused rumors to spread like fire. Cannath smiled inwardly as he watched the enthusiasm of his people. In fact, the farther he went the more his fellow Hybrandese began to cheer for him and his small force.

He took great pleasure in watching the Arnathian Imperials who were looking on with great suspicion while they conducted their patrols. Here and there the prince heard a tell-tale thundering of hooves as Imperial runners were doubtless racing to notify General Craxis that Cannath was up to something and was leading an illegal, armed militia. As Prince Cannath made his way to within a hundred yards of the port, a small contingent of Imperials moved to block the path of his Royal Hybrandese Guard. Cannath called a halt and his company of one hundred fifty men stopped as one. The thunderous echo of their boots stomping the ground in disciplined defiance of Arnathia echoed off the buildings nearby. Indeed, Cannath allowed himself an outward expression of pleasure as the usual stalwart Imperials jumped ever so slightly.

“Lord Cannath!” called the Imperial squad commander. “You are ordered to desist and disband this illegal militia!”

The squad commander did not look as confident as he sounded to Prince Cannath. Cannath looked around casually as a gathering of onlookers formed, expecting a showdown. He noted that many of the onlookers carried staves, tools, or other implements which could be used as weapons. He only hoped they were sympathetic to his own cause and that they were not Arnathian loyalists; there was no way to tell. He could tell that the Imperial squad commander had noticed the same and appeared equally concerned.

“Prince Cannath of Hybrand does not answer to foreign Arnathian occupiers who trespass on our land.” The prince did not shout, but his voice carried with it authority, reflecting a cool demeanor. “Stand clear corporal, else there will be a fight. And, if you haven’t noticed, you are severely outnumbered.”

“Your peasant-militia is no match for highly trained Imperials!” the squad commander snarled, his confidence growing with anger. “You are in violation of Imperial Decrees banning the formation of provincial militias and bearing the colors of a banned house. Both of these violations carry the same penalties as charges of treason!” Cannath noticed the ever-growing crowd was becoming more restless, as shouts and jeers aimed at the Arnathians began. Yet some jeered at him and his men, in a vague way, bolstering the Imperials’ confidence, apparently. He knew that his allies among the Spiders were in position throughout the port area, but he did not wish to draw them into this fight. He hoped the crowd was on his side; there was still no way to tell. “Stand clear and disburse or face arrest!” shouted the squad commander.

Cannath silently held his ground, facing the arrogant Arnathian from about fifty paces, and took a moment to survey the crowd again. He began to realize that those who were looking at him and his troops were looking on with pride, while others stared at the Arnathians with ire and downright anger. Prince Cannath was well aware of the fighting prowess of highly trained Arnathian soldiers, having once been one himself. He knew full well how demoralizing it would be to his own men as they watched the squad of Arnathian soldiers cut down the first line of his proud but untested Cklathmen. Yet, he recalled how Cklathmen always fought with distinction, ferocity, and tenacity whenever and wherever they fought. The warrior spirit was a part of every Cklathman; it was an ever-present spark looking for a powder keg and Cannath was counting on the spark.

“COMPANY, FORM OUT!” Cannath shouted the command, his voice forcefully echoing off the storefronts of the nearby fishmonger and smithy. He watched with pride as his four platoons, in perfect unison and precision, moved into a line facing off with the Arnathians. Then with another command, each platoon expanded the distance between each man in step, stomping boots reverberating with intensity among the storefronts; Cannath sensed the unease from the severely outnumbered Arnathians.

“Stand down, Cannath!” shouted the commander, still showing confidence in his men. Then he said, “Lord Cannath, the general will certainly show mercy should you stand down!”

Cannath felt the hair on his neck rise and his blood begin to boil.

Mercy? He will show
me
mercy?

“COMPANY, BEAR ARMS!” The prince barked the command to his men in response, showing no outward emotion. The first of his four platoons very smartly brandished their razor sharp spears in perfect synchronicity. At the same time each of the following two platoons of longsword and shield drew their weapons and raised their shields as the rear platoon of archers knocked arrows and drew their strings.

The Imperial commander waved a silent command and his squad of thirteen men fanned out in a “V” formation around him, with the commander at its point.

For a long moment, neither of the men flinched, each stoically waiting for the other to finish. Cannath allowed the charade to go on while he noticed with grim pleasure the sleek black warship with a scarlet and gold crest emblazoned on its black sails, had finally docked alongside the pier in the deep waters of Hybrand Bay.

“COMPANY, DUN-A-KARA!” the latter part of the command was given in the old Cklathish dialect known as Merckish. Merckish was a dialect used by the Merck tribes of the Merckagne Islands off the coast of Hybrand and were considered part of the Hybrand nation. The Merckish language was adopted by Hybrandese military centuries ago when the Merckish officers distinguished themselves above all others in the Great Hybrand-Hurkin War. It was a language that had been forbidden by the Arnathian occupiers after Cannath’s own grandfather committed high treason and effectively surrendered Hybrand to the Arnathian Empire.

The Arnathians began a steady march forward towards Cannath’s own men.

“KARA!!” twenty-five bowstrings snapped as one and a rain of arrows fell upon the advancing Arnathians. Expecting this type of assault, the Arnathians raised their shields and advanced silently, Cklathish arrows sinking into Arnathian shields. Cklathish archers fired a second volley, and a third, and slowed the advance of the Arnathians as three of the lead soldiers took arrows in their shins. Taking advantage of the enemy’s pause, Cannath signaled the platoon of spears to charge the enemy followed by two platoons of swordsmen. The Arnathians were now outnumbered seventy-five to thirteen and Cannath grimly thought that the odds were just barely in his favor.

Indeed, his gut twisted as he watched more than a score of his Cklathish soldiers perish at the hands of thirteen Arnathians, including the wounded soldiers, before his men finally overwhelmed the Imperials. Cannath’s lieutenants quickly reformed the surviving men and set a detail to begin moving the injured and dying. After a moment, the gathered onlookers began to file into the street and helped Cannath’s men move the dead and tend to the wounded. Shouts of encouragement and cheers for “Prince Cannath” and “On for Hybrand!” carried to Prince Cannath’s ears and a chill ran down his back. He gave his countrymen an encouraging smile and said, “Today Arnathia will learn to regret what it has done to Hybrand! Today Hybrand becomes free!” The cheers of his people filled the air and confidence filled his spirit. Cannath swelled with pride and knew that for good or for naught, historians would write about the day Prince Cannath declared independence for Hybrand from the tyrannical rule of the Arnathian Empire. He always harbored tremendous guilt over the treachery of his family and all his life he had vowed to restore their lost honor.

Finally, he would have the chance.

Then thunder rumbled in the streets behind Cannath, echoing off the walls of the closely built apartment buildings at the Port of Hybrand. The crowd slowly quieted as a thousand heads slowly turned toward the sound. Cannath’s stomach twisted, he knew what that sound was.

“COMPANY, FORWARD MARCH!” then, “FORWARD-RUN!” the remaining men of his company had reformed into ranks and began a synchronized run toward the port. He desperately hoped he could get his men through the port gate and close it behind them before the company of Arnathian regulars arrived. Against his better judgment Cannath looked back to see if the Arnathians were close, and his heart skipped a beat.

Civilians had filed into the street and made a makeshift military formation blocking the path of the oncoming Arnathians, giving Cannath and his troops time to enter the port. He silently saluted those brave citizens who were probably about to die to give the prince the time he needed. Cannath was pleased that the rumors facilitated by the Spiders had taken seed and his people were beginning to believe revolution was truly at hand. Cannath and his men quickly made their way inside the port, secured the gates and took up defensive positions inside the battlements of the port. He realized that the distinct lack of resistance inside the port could only be attributed to assassins from the Spiders. Cannath and his second in command, Captain Amos, quickly strode down the wooden planks of the deep water pier that was built especially for large ships. As he made his way toward the gangplank that was now being lowered to the pier he desperately hoped this ship held more men that it looked capable of; it was very likely that he and his men were going to have to fight their way out of the port.

Cannath waited at the bottom of the gangplank, eager for the fight to begin. He was anxious to see what manner of warriors this Lord Coronus brought to help him rid his country of Arnathians. He was aware of the sounds of skirmishing in the streets beyond the gates to the Port, but his lust for revenge had consumed him. Cannath was aware that there were civilians who were likely being butchered by the Arnathians in the street right now, but he resigned himself that such was the price he must pay to have his revenge.

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