The Exodus Sagas: Book I - Of Spiders And Falcons (53 page)

The sound of men in armor climbing the ladders extended down to their small boats, the crew of the Harpy looked nervous yet curious as to what this was all about. One by one, the armored guard, capes of blue with black falcon emblems and silver armor and helms, lined up and set crossbows loaded atop their tall steel decorated shields. Twenty, then forty, then sixty boarded the ship, leaving few crew armed on their away boats. A young man of long blonde hair, dressed in fine armor and clothing of regal quality stepped aboard, his hand on his exquisite falcon head broadsword. All breath stopped from the crew of the Harpy, knowing that this was the Prince of Chazzrynn, and the last man that they waited for must be his father, King Mikhail. The young noble drew his blade, raised it high, “All hail Mikhail, King of Chazzrynn!” The crew of well over a hundred, the soldiers, even the prince hit a knee and bowed their heads. Shinayne and Gwenneth bowed deeply, as they knew that ladies do not kneel, and James and Zen both followed the men in respect. Only Saberrak stood, back to the mast, leaning on his double edged axe, hand resting on the other one he had lifted in Valhirst.

“
Minotaur, get on yer knee
!” the captain whispered, giving a squinting eye of anger at this horned beast that would scare many a child, but not Saberrak.

“Doubtful, captain.” he snorted, keeping his gaze on the young man who had announced the king.

The King of Chazzrynn removed his open faced helmet topped with a battle crown of golden spikes and rubies. His neatly trimmed black and silver beard showed his age, along with thinning hair and wrinkles about his deep blue eyes. His helm handed to his only remaining son, who readily accepted it and tucked it under his arm as he stood behind his father, Mikhail strode through his lined men and to the captain of the ship, noting those he wished to speak to. “Captain Dennilar, your manifests, logbook, and an inspection if you will. Your compliance with my boarding is most appreciated.”

“I’m all in order your highness, simply trading to the north. Your men may check all me things if ye find it necessary.” the captain stood respectfully, eye to eye with the King of Chazzrynn.

“Do you know why I am here, Captain?” the king breathed out, motioned his son and men to inspect the ship, which they marched to quickly.

“Not the slightest inkling, my king. But me curiosity be itchin that yer gonna tell me.” the captain had a feeling it was the five he picked up, but was surely not going to offer any information.

“Valhirst. Plain and simple. Too much moves in and out of this port city that escapes the eyes of the throne, routine inspections from the Prince of the city seem to occur seldom. I am simply checking his thoroughness.” the king was also lying, partly, having heard of many encounters with a minotaur and something from the Aldane priests about an historical relic they had with them. He was hoping they were agents of Johnas.

“Understandable and an unfortunate duty that ye have there, your highness.” The captain played along with the banter, seeing that the king, and definitely his son, had eyed each and every one of the five fugitives from the emerald city.

“Captain, would you do me a great favor. I normally do not ask this of a captain on his own vessel, however,
I am the king
.” he leaned in quietly, so that even his own men would not hear.

“Of course my king, if I said no, would it matter to ye?” Dennilar the old sea crab laughed, the king smiling at the gesture.

“I suppose no, good captain. Could you take your men and yourself below deck for assistance with the inspection? I wish to speak to the elf, the priest, young Lazlette here, the knight of Southwind Keep, and the minotaur who refuses to kneel
. Alone
.” face very stern, his voice low and demanding, he expected for the captain to do as he wished quickly.

“Certainly my king. Men, lets head below to help these royal saps with findin what they be needing to find sometime today, shall we!
Your highness
.” Dennilar bowed after the slight insult to the royal guard. He walked below to waste time with men trained to protect royalty, not inspect ships or read logs.

The king, still with forty men above deck, paced, walking toward the minotaur. His hard black leather boots kicking back his blue and gold cape as he strode, arms folded across his chest. He looked up at Saberrak, a foot and a half taller than the himself, and then to the greataxe, then back up to the fierce stare of tattooed horns under dark eyes, the shadow of it’s horns casting down across his own shadow on the deck. “You do not kneel, minotaur?”

“I have been on the surface of you kingdom for just over a fortnight. I have had to kill ogre, trolls, assassins, a great horned cat, been shot with arrows, and chased by men wearing your emblem through your own city streets. I have not the energy, nor desire to
bow
. Simply to leave this place, and not return.” his gaze did not flinch, his eyes looking directly at the King of Chazzrynn, feeling neither fear nor error in his words.

“And you, young Lazlette, you realize there is quite a search for you in my kingdom. Your mother, the Lady of Vallakazz has sent people to find you, and yet you leave for the north.” turning, fearing not the beast behind him, yet he respected his words. Rarely did he interrogate people who did not bluff or beg for his favor and mercy.

“I am not held by any law to my mother’s city, your highness. I seek knowledge in Harlaheim, and that is not a crime the last time I checked.” Gwenneth bowed deeply again, respecting the ruler of the kingdom, unlike Saberrak.

“Lady Shinayne T’Sarrin of Kilikala, what honor is it of Chazzrynn that you be here among us?” the king maintained his composure, despite the obvious lack of information he was receiving. He noted the others remained quiet.

A deep bow with eyes closed was given from the elven woman. “I was in search of a friend who has found another path, your highness. Nothing more. I pray we meet again soon, perhaps to the north.”

“I have heard nothing of you, priest. Why does a dwarf from Boraduum travel with such a mixed lot?”

“God has all the answers to that, great king, I merely follow, one day at a time, his guidance.” Zen took a knee again, respecting the man’s position, and hoping to make up for the minotaur’s lack thereof.

Mikhail felt it now, an anger brewing,
thick as thieves
, he thought. He walked up in that anger, right into the face of James Andellis, whose bowed head remained low. The king grabbed his bearded chin, with force, and lifted the mans gaze to his own. Tears from the knight’s blue eyes surprised the king, not expecting anything of the sort. “
And you
, deserter of Southwind Keep, what is
your
purpose here? With a stolen Medal of Bravery, a tarnished uniform,
and a stolen sword
…” he whispered, analyzing the man’s garb, “You should be ashamed soldier, for carrying yourself in such false fashion. You have no honor in carrying the blade or medal of another while you conduct yourself as a thief.”

“The medal
is mine
, your highness.”

“From whom! From my nephew Johnas, are you an agent of the prince of Valhirst?” the king yelled now, his emotion seeping up through the cracks of years in a troubled country full of deception.

“No. From you, my king. Though we have never met, this medal was presented to me for the battle of Arouland thirteen years ago.” his tears at first meeting his king, his lost men, and his wasted years washed over as he choked out his words.

“
No one
survived that battle, what is your name!?” Mikhail now put his hand on his engraved broadsword, feeling more a sense of injustice than anger toward this man.

“I am James Andellis, of house Andellis, Knight of Southwind Keep, formerly. I served Lord Arlinne T’Vellon as his Captain at Arouland. I was there at his death, and I carry his sword in memory. I was presented with a medal of bravery after my release as a hostage to the ogre king, Avegarne. From that day forward, much I do not know.” his voice was shaking, full of regret, fear, and sadness at speaking words he had never spoke before, and to the man he had always wished to meet more than anyone in his entire life.

Gwenneth stared at James then quickly turned away. Her eyes full of sorrow, of things she cared not to know, but now knew. She had always hoped that her father had survived, had been ordered on a secret endeavor that her mother had not been able to inform her about. She had hoped he would return one day, and she would get to see him one last time. This knight had been there, and as much as she wished to speak with him, she buried her feelings in anger and pity, which was easier than showing them.

The King of Chazzrynn was speechless, he had no words, yet he wanted proof. “So then, James, why did the battle suffer complete loss
, if
you were really there? Tell me, no
, prove
to me that you are the only survivor of that day. Since your name is on a stone on the hill above the western waste with all the men that died that day, how is it that you are here?”

“I am not sure that you will want to hear what I have to say, your highness.” James tried to regain his composure before the king, and tried not to answer the question either.

“You may speak freely,
I wish to know
.”

James Andellis paused, took the medal off of his tabard, and handed it to the King of Chazzrynn. “I have carried this for far too long, your majesty.” the king accepted it, and watched James muster his breath to speak. “Your scouts were drunk more than sober, and they relayed only sightings of the outside of the lost city of Arouland, they never saw the inside. Their reports to you and the church were false, and from then on, the populace pushed to retake the west. Since a hundred loose ogre in various hunting tribes are easily crushed by an army, you sent the best in your kingdom, the two hundred knights of Southwind, backed up by footman. A thousand men yes, but a reserve army that had never seen anything but formations and training. These men were expendable, poor soldiers, and not ready to face the trained ogre army of four hundred that emerged. They tried to flee, they surrendered, they died, leaving us of Southwind to die, and die killing as many as we could. We accomplished that, your highness, for there are few soldiers that can kill an ogre without four others beside him, and we laid waste to hundreds. We decimated over half their number, but when Lord Arlinne fell, the remaining men were captured, tortured, ripped apart, and murdered, all save myself. I was the ogre kings’ message to you, not to return to the west, ever. I know now, that the preachings of victory from a church, the peoples’ rallying of men in your name, and simple hope and bravery will seldom lead to victory, no matter who orders the attack. Who may be behind you, as a soldier, is of little consequence, it is being ready for the enemy in front of you that will decide if men live or if they die. I watched twelve hundred men die, some quickly, some not so, many were my closest friends and family. I remember them every time I sleep, I can not escape them. Had we known the truth and been prepared, it would not have happened so.” James felt numb, relaying what had happened so long ago, directly to the man that ordered it.

Long silence followed, stares from all present, even the king had to look at the deck to gain his composure as great regret and shame washed over him. “And where have you been the last thirteen years, James Andellis?”

“My king, I have been drinking wine, and slaughtering ogre for pay. I have killed ogre men, women, and children along the western borders, and have not stopped except to drink and sleep.” his words, humorous as some of the guards found them, were gaining no response from his friends, and he did not smile in the least.

The king pinned the medal back on his tabard, thought hard, creases across his brow in the morning sun. This was the last thing Mikhail had expected to hear today. “And you leave to Harlaheim, with the scroll that everyone from temple to tower is speaking of?”

James paused, feeling the gaze of his allies, the pressure to lie, but he could not, not here, not now. “Yes, my king. It is safer there, for we know not its purpose and Chazzrynn has grown dangerous and corrupt.”

“You are honest, in many things, James Andellis. What would you ask of your king, should he offer assistance to you?” Mikhail felt it swell, his past failures, his reliance on information that has led to the deaths of men, even two of his sons in wars past.

James, who had been staring at the mans forehead as a good soldier at attention would, turned to the dark blue eyes of his king, tearing slightly like his own, and stared in disbelief, mouth open. “I would ask that the king of Chazzrynn let us go north, with his blessings. Also that he ward off the ships of his nephew that follow us, as we know they mean to kill and take what is not theirs.”

“Is that an order to your king, James Andellis, knight of Southwind?” the king drew his golden broadsword, and stepped forward.

“A humble request, great king.” James waited, not knowing if he were about to be run through, hit, or hugged by the man before him.

“Should I need you in the future, to help me lay waste to our enemies, will you answer my call, James Andellis?” Mikhail raised his immaculate and enchanted swordedge to his cheek, a salute of honor, one he had not given since his younger years in the wars with Harlaheim.

James drew his blade, Arlinne’s blade, and returned the salute. “Always, my king. My service is to Chazzrynn, and to you.”

“Then kneel.”