The Conquest of Kiynan

As the Brilliance sailed steadily toward Spire, Stoneworth looked back over the vast fleet of small ships behind him. Four banners flapped in the wind, the full might of the Fayl, the Bok, the Toop and the Ilnt followed him. Nearly sixteen hundred spearmen, crowded into hundreds of small sailing and rowing ships, had left the safety of their island homes to help Hendrik fight for his people’s freedom.

His visits to the other islands had happened in such a flurry, he could scarcely keep them separate in his mind. After leaving Ilnt with Mamos Pomindi’s support, he had sailed to the rugged mountainous island of Toop. Word of his alliance with the Ilnt had preceded him, although he was not sure how, and the Toop were eager to join forces with their more populous neighbour. Their copper-rich island produced most of the weapons and armour the other Tribes relied on to equip their troops, and their smithies were working at full capacity. Hendrik had been received at the Mamos’ fortress, which was carved directly into a rocky hillside. Mamos Agrith Xefen of Toop had formally presented Hendrik with a bronze sword specially forged for him. The Mamos had then ceremonially crossed swords with the King, symbolizing their alliance. After enjoying the hospitality of Xefen’s underground palace, Hendrik sailed on to the small volcanic island of Fayl.

The reception the Fayl had offered the Gaurvian King had been more reserved, but still cordial. Again, Hendrik’s request for a military alliance had preceded him, but Mamos Tofagip had not yet reached a decision. He explained, with Crosio’s help, that Hendrik’s request had been considered, but that it was too great a decision for the Mamos to make on his own. Tofagip insisted that he would only commit his people to Hendrik’s cause if the great fire spirits approved. Crosio explained briefly that the fire spirits were entities that inhabited the island’s great volcano, Tagofa, Mount Thunder. Half believing these spirits were some kind of superstition, Stoneworth nonetheless agreed to meet with them, as he felt he had little to lose. He and his party were brought to the foot of the volcano to camp for the night. The following morning, Tofagip and a handful of his priests, led Hendrik up a steep trail, leading into the volcano itself. The Mamos insisted that no others could be allowed to see the great fire spirits. The men hiked for hours before finally reaching a narrow tunnel that led into the heart of Mount Thunder. The small group emerged into a wide chamber with a large pool of lava that seemed to come from below the cave’s far wall. The heat was incredible and Stoneworth worried that he might faint in front of the Mamos. All the men’s mouths were opened wide as they struggled to breathe. The air was painful to inhale and had a strong sulphur taste. The priests, whom Crosio had called the Keepers of Flame, made a great pile with the wood they had carried from the camp. One of them took a long stick and carefully extended its tip into the lava. Instantly, the branch burst into flame, to Hendrik’s amazement, who had never seen lava before. The priest threw the burning stick into the pile, which in turn quickly caught fire. The Mamos and his priests kneeled in an arc, with the fire between them and the pool of lava. Stoneworth followed suit and waited for something to happen. The cave was silent except for the crackling of the fire, and the bubbling of the molten rock. The painful heat made it difficult for Hendrik to keep track of time, but it felt to him as though he knelt before that fire for hours, although it could just as easily have been mere moments. Suddenly, Hendrik thought he saw movement in the lava. It looked as though the lava itself rose up and formed into the upper half of some slim creature. Its body was shaped like a man’s, but the lava moulded into a scaly texture. Its head resembled a great lizard. Two more of the creatures were shaped from the boiling rock a moment later, and all three regarded the humans patiently. The Mamos spoke to the creatures in Ganec, which Stoneworth could not understand. Whether the creatures understood or even heard the Mamos was not clear. When Tofagip finished speaking, they vanished suddenly. Hendrik could not be sure they had not been merely a hallucination induced by the overwhelming heat. Whatever had happened, the Mamos seemed to be content with the result. He and his priests led the King out through the same tunnel. The air outside the cave was an intense relief. When the group returned to the camp, Hendrik was greeted by a look of horror on his advisors’ faces. A quick rub of his face with a cloth showed him why. His clothes were completely soaked through with sweat, and his entire body was coated with soot and grime. After a brief discussion with the Mamos, Crosio excitedly came to Hendrik to announce that the Fayl would follow him into battle. It would seem the fire spirits had not objected to the alliance, which was reason enough for the Mamos to agree to it.

The last island to be visited was the swamp-covered island of Bok. While all the islanders were darker skinned than the Gaurvians, the Bok were darker than their neighbours. They all wore alligator-skin leather vests, and most wore jewellery made of bones. Stoneworth swore that some of those bones had to be from human fingers. Although the Bok delegation that met Stoneworth informed him that the Mamos had committed her people to his aid, Crosio also relayed that a few ceremonial rituals had to be observed. Hendrik reflected that he had preferred the furnace-like cave in Mount Thunder than the slimy salt-water marshes of Bok. Mamos Olma Jumo, clad entirely in alligator-skin leather and wearing an alligator skull as a helmet, received Stoneworth and his group in her floating home. On every side of the massive tethered raft, Hendrik could see enormous alligators stealthily drifting along. He was obliged to join in a dance in worship of the great Alligator God of the Bok, and he was fed boiled pieces of tribesmen who had recently died. Too frightened to refuse, Hendrik barely managed to swallow a couple of tiny pieces without vomiting. Jumo explained that this was an honoured tradition, as they believed that by consuming their dead, they gathered their wisdom in order to carry it with them into battle. When Hendrik asked how the tribesmen had died, the Mamos simply repeated that it had been recent. To wash down the meal, Hendrik was offered a jar of fresh blood, but this time he did refuse and asked no more questions.

With all the negotiations and ceremonies behind him, Stoneworth was ecstatic to see Spire again. Even nearly empty as it was, the city’s port would be unable to accommodate so many ships simultaneously. The Brilliance docked first, and as Hendrik disembarked, he was greeted by the Governor himself.

“It seems your negotiations were successful,” chirped the portly man.

“They were,” agreed Hendrik wearily.

“I have more good news for you,” went on the Governor excitedly, “it seems word has spread among the Gaurvians that you are alive and several hundred of your former soldiers have arrived in Spire, eager to try and reclaim their lands. In addition,” Millwright rubbed his hands with a self-satisfied smile, “my guild—er, my former guild, that is—has gathered four hundred mercenaries to serve you, all that were to be hired for ready gold.”

“The Inventor’s Guild has been most generous in my time of need,” replied Hendrik gratefully, “their kindness will not be forgotten.”

The Governor’s eyes and his grin widened, and he bobbed up and down with so much excitement, his spectacles began to slip off his nose.

“There is more, my lord. Following the Inventor’s Guild’s lead, the other guilds have contributed as well. The grocers have gathered and packed enough provisions for you and your men to last for five weeks. Finally, the metalsmiths, carpenters and inventors have worked unflaggingly since you departed Spire; they did not stop to sleep until their task was completed. They have constructed for you the latest siege weapon design: the repeater ballista. In fact, they constructed four of them. Each one can fire a second projectile within seconds of its first. With two additional men per team than the classical ballista, the repeaters can be reloaded in the same amount of time.”

“Excellent work, it seems I will have a great deal of people to repay once my enemies have been defeated,” Stoneworth said sincerely. “Now, Governor, I need all of these ships unloaded, provisions packed, and all the soldiers and mercenaries gathered. I intend to march within two days.”

The Governor’s grin shrank as he heard the King’s words and surveyed the chaotic mass of ships.

“Two days…?” Millwright mumbled to himself. He turned back toward the King, and upon seeing the determination in Stoneworth’s eyes, the Governor nodded confidently, “Two days.”

Moonlight glinted off spear points and helms as the sounds of thousands of men marching filled the air, reverberating off the trees. The forest was slowing them down, but their pace was still satisfactory to Hendrik. This very night, Stoneworth’s campaign to reclaim Gaurvia would begin.

“Your majesty, Vidliank lies to the north of us… should we not be marching in that direction?” Vikor Seastrom had asked when Hendrik had ordered his troops to move.

“We are not going to Vidliank yet, Vikor. We are going to Gaurbane,” the King had replied confidently.

“But your majesty, surely our priority is to reclaim your throne, our capital…” complained Darryan Fleetfoot.

“Our priority is to defeat our enemies,” Stoneworth replied simply.

A dreadfully depressed Crosio had joined the fray, and the three advisors had expressed their numerous opinions and strategies, but Hendrik was unswerving. He was through listening to squabbling advisors, and he was no longer interested in anyone telling him what he should do. He knew what he had to do. He had been too frightened to make any decisions before, and he had relied heavily—too heavily—on others making decisions for him. That had led to disaster and defeat. He had ignored his responsibility. He was the ruler of Gaurvia, he was the leader, and it was his duty to make the difficult decisions. Now, he was performing that duty. Their goal was Gaurbane. Hendrik’s army numbered fewer than three thousand soldiers, far fewer than the Iceborn alone, let alone the combined might of the Iceborn and the Qume. The one advantage there was to having a smaller army was mobility. Capturing Vidliank would paralyse Hendrik, as he would be forced to remain there and defend it, while his enemies had time to regroup and overwhelm him. Gaurbane was a prize Hendrik could abandon, and its capture would still weaken his enemies. Remaining a mobile threat would make it far more difficult for his enemies to consolidate their numbers.

Peering ahead, Stoneworth could see an outline of Gaurbane through the trees. He knew their attack would not be a total surprise, as it was impossible to conceal a marching army of any size. However, he had dozens of outriders scouring the land ahead of them, slaying the Qume patrols, which although their disappearance would alert the defenders to danger, the Qume would not have a clear idea of what kind of danger they were facing until Stoneworth’s army was upon them.

Hendrik could see the castle clearly now, and he called a halt, just before the edge of the clearing where the Qume had cleared the forest to rob approaching enemies of cover from their arrows. The ballistae were wheeled forward to the very edge of the forest, still well beyond bowshot of Gaurbane’s walls, and lined up against the north gate. While the siege weapons were set up and loaded, Hendrik called forward his cavalry. They were composed almost entirely of mercenaries equipped in different fashions, but most carried a spear and all carried a shield. Some were Gaurvians who had avoided conscription, others had been conscripted before the defeat at Vidliank, but a hefty salary was needed to convince them to return to service, others still were wanderers, come from the islands, New Ornland, Paladia, and even Varice. Behind his horses, Hendrik lined up his light infantry: the spearmen of Ilnt, Fayl and Bok. Behind them, Stoneworth grouped his heavy infantry: the loyal Gaurvians, clad in full-length coats of steel chain mail, wielding broadswords and carrying long rectangular shields, and the bronze-encased soldiers of Toop. The Toop wore moulded bronze vests, gauntlets, greaves, helmets that covered their entire head and neck save for two small slits to see through, full-length oval shields, and long swords.

With all in place, Hendrik rode to the front of the horse column, Seastrom, Fleetfoot and Simion at his side. The King stared at the castle, while around him he could hear the impatient movements of his army. Gaurbane had been constructed in haste, as the Gaurvians had been pushing farther and farther into Qume territory. The castle was asymmetrical, its walls joined in strange places, as though they had been constructed without a unifying plan. Nonetheless, it was a mighty stronghold. Its walls had been instrumental to repelling the Gaurvian invaders, centuries ago. Without Gaurbane, the early Gaurvians would perhaps have wiped out the Qume. Now, the Gaurvians and their allies stood on the verge of challenging Gaurbane’s strength once again. But this time, the result would be different.

Vita Pomindi rode silently to Hendrik’s side, and whispered placidly.

“All is ready.”

Hendrik could hear the horses at the far end of the column whinnying nervously and pawing the ground. The cavalrymen and infantry seemed only mildly more in control than the animals. From where he sat, Stoneworth could just make out the outline of over a dozen men struggling to keep hold of short lengths of chain. Hendrik could not see the guhros themselves, but he could picture them pulling eagerly at their leashes. The King nodded to Pomindi. The Mamos of Ilnt rode off toward her keepers, and moments later, Hendrik could just make out the large black outlines of the carnivorous simians running with their forelimbs on the ground, the steep slope no impediment to their speed as they raced, driven by their hunger. The King could make them out more clearly as they deftly scaled Gaurbane’s walls. As the first scream pierced the silence, Hendrik turned to Seastrom.

“Fire,” he ordered evenly.

His command was shouted down the line to the ballista teams, and was answered moments later by loud mechanical sounds. A fast volley of four heavy missiles smashed into Gaurbane’s outer doors, wrenching them off their hinges and collapsing them inward in a shower of splinters. More shouting erupted from the castle’s walls, and volleys of arrows were fired in panicked randomness into the night, harmlessly littering the cleared hillside. Hendrik’s heart thumped wildly in anticipation. His fingers tightened around his spear, but he waited for the second volley of the ballistae to take flight. The machines screamed again and more projectiles careened toward the castle. The iron gates behind the wooden doors screeched as they broke. Hendrik raised his spear high, and screamed with all his breath.

“CHARGE!”

He spurred his mount forward, his men close on his heels, racing up the steep rocky slope. A handful of arrows whizzed past him, but there were few defenders able to ignore the slavering guhros in their midst long enough to worry about him and his men. Some of the mercenaries overtook Hendrik and raced past the broken gates ahead of him. Seconds later, Hendrik’s horse leapt over the twisted metal gate, and burst into the castle’s courtyard. Hundreds of spearmen attacked the invaders, but they were disorganized, and fought as individuals rather than as an army. Hendrik hesitated a moment as he watched the swarm of Qume rush toward him.

Suddenly, a vision returned to him of Qume soldiers trampling the Gaurvian standard as he fled Vidliank. The screams of his dying men returned to him, images of fleeing conscripts hacked down from above by horsemen, and speared in the back by footmen. Tears of rage filled Hendrik’s eyes, and his hands trembled with fury. Lowering his spear, he shrieked a banshee war cry and kicked his mount with all of his enraged strength. The horse whickered and ran wholeheartedly into the mess of foot soldiers. Still screaming, Stoneworth thrust his spear through a man’s chest, piercing his chain mail. The spear snapped as the man collapsed, taking the pointed half with him. Hendrik flung the broken haft at another soldier, and drew his broadsword. Hauling in a deep breath, Hendrik screamed with renewed vigour and bashed a soldier’s spear away with a backhand swing, slashing across the man’s face on the return swing. Stoneworth turned his horse to trample the falling man before riding toward his next victim. Coming up behind his enemy, Hendrik hacked down onto the top of the soldier’s head, his enraged might cracking the man’s helmet and skull. He rode on toward the keep, butchering with gusto as he went.

The King was vaguely aware of the courtyard filling up with more and more of his soldiers, and he noticed the Qume fleeing from the incoming tide of metal, heading for the castle’s rear gate. Spurring his mount once again, Hendrik rode in pursuit of the fleeing soldiers.

“NO PRISONERS!” he bellowed as he beheaded a fleeing Qume man.

As he neared the rear gate, Hendrik saw a solid line of pike men guarding the escape route. These soldiers clearly displayed a discipline that the others did not. The grim expressions on the men’s faces, and the barrier of sharp steel made Hendrik stop. He watched in frustration as more and more men joined the line, as others disappeared behind it and headed to freedom. He considered riding out of the castle and around the outer wall to cut them off, but he realized it would take too long to circumnavigate the entire wall, and by then, most of them would have escaped into the night. Stoneworth cursed at the pike men, and wheeled his horse chasing down soldiers before they could reach their allies. Stoneworth’s infantry came charging toward the line of pikes, and broke through, slaughtering the enemy soldiers, but their sacrifice had been effective. Hendrik rode back toward the keep, where he saw the guhros feasting on fallen men. Some were still screaming as the predators tore off chunks of them. A wicked satisfaction filled him as he watched the grisly spectacle.

Stoneworth’s attention was recaptured by Vikor Seastrom as he rode toward his King proudly, despite a cut along his forearm trickling blood. Behind his advisor, two mercenaries were dragging a slender man dressed in a ragged sleeping robe. They threw the man to his knees before Hendrik’s horse, and he looked up at the King with sunken eyes. He appeared as though he had not eaten in days, and he squinted in the pale moonlight, as though he were staring directly into the Sun.

“Your majesty, I would like you to meet Aman Kingsbury,” exclaimed Seastrom.

Hendrik was stunned as he studied the man more closely. He had met with Kingsbury many times, but only now that he knew it was he was he able to recognize the empty shell before him. Kingsbury seemed to have adjusted to the light, and now glared darkly at Stoneworth. Something in that loathing gaze kindled Hendrik’s rage, and he spoke through clenched teeth.

“You and your people will pay for what they have done. You will watch me raze your beloved stronghold.”

“Your majesty, all the enemy has fled or been slain,” said Seastrom, his tone almost panicked, “We have captured the keep—”

“Burn it,” interrupted Stoneworth darkly.

“But your majesty, the—”

“I said BURN IT,” he screamed at his advisor, “Burn it all!”

For once, Seastrom said nothing and quickly turned his horse to relay the King’s command. Hendrik rode out of the castle, heading toward the forest where his troops would rally to make camp. He stopped halfway down the hill, his back toward Gaurbane. He heard another horseman ride up beside him. As the rider turned his mount around to face the castle, he recognized the horseman as Simion. Hendrik looked at the commoner as he stared fixedly at Gaurbane, seeing the first of the flames reflected in Simion’s eyes.