The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion (35 page)

“Good Lords and Ladies, I can see that there is much for my fellow king and I to discuss.  We should have resolved these issues before bringing it to your notice.  I move that we cancel this gathering and resume once those issues have been more fully examined.”

More angry shouts emerged from the floor.  Norcum again pled for order.  When he got it he turned to Minos.

“Your Majesty, with all respect, these appear to be matters which require a public examination.  As the senior member of this Parliament I decline to call this meeting to a close.”

Most of the assembled members shouted their agreement.  Norcum looked at Ruguer again.

“Now, secondarily King Ruguer, you assert that Northland sent only one thousand warriors to aid Aspell.  It was the action of this body to authorize funds for the deployment of five thousand fighters for that effort.”  Behind Ruguer Minos regained his seat and studied the floor.

“As to the support of the people of Olvion following the war, Good King Ruguer, this body has authorized more than ample funds to keep your people fed and re-supplied for at least two summers.  If it is not being used for that purpose we will have to explore that issue with our king.”

The full meaning of what was happening was now clear to Ruguer.  This was a case of the left hand not knowing of the actions of the right.

“One more thought, Good King,” Norcum stated.  “The members of this Parliament who opposed the timely deployment of reinforcements to Olvion in the time of the Great War have all been relieved of their seats.  It was by a very narrow margin that our king was able to retain his office.  I dare predict that another vote is in his future.

“This body, indeed this entire kingdom, has always been aware of the enormous debt that it owes to the noble and valiant men and women of Olvion.  Please accept the apologies of this kingdom, and be assured that no similar injustices will occur.”

When he had completed his remarks, Norcum lowered himself into a kneeling position.  Around the hall the others left their seats and copied his actions.  Soon there was absolute silence in the room.

Ruguer’s anger dissolved upon seeing the entire Parliament of Northland in a posture of contrition.  The people of all four kingdoms of Olvion were very proud, and it was a rare gesture, indeed, for any person to kneel before another, including their kings.  Seeing the elected representatives of the people of Northland expressing their apologies to him and his kingdom in such a heartfelt manner affected him deeply.

Ruguer realized that he had unfairly assumed that the entire government of Northland had been complicit in the withholding of reinforcements and goods from Olvion.  His realized that he needed to illustrate his own contrition for his hasty remarks.

King Ruguer, arguably the proudest of all men in Olvion, assumed the kneeling position himself.  Behind him his bodyguard followed suit.

After that things went very quickly.  Norcum asked for a few moments of discussion with Ruguer to further clarify the situation in Olvion.  Ruguer was then asked to step outside and give their Parliament the privacy that was needed for the steps they needed to take.

As the doors closed behind him and his entourage they were led to a suite of rooms in which to spend the night.  Later that night they took their evening meal in a public dining facility outside of the confines of the castle. A warrior of Northland approached their table and asked if he could share some information with Ruguer.  He was allowed after being checked for weapons.  He leaned in closely and whispered in the King’s ear.

“Rumors tell of plans of a special election for the purpose of unseating King Minos.  The stated charges include dishonesty, deceit and misappropriation of designated treasure.  We, the warriors of Northland, wanted you to know, Good King.”

The sun was hanging low in the sky.  The insects in the swamp were denser in this part.  Taggart swatted at them to no effect.  He looked behind himself at his people.  They were near the point of exhaustion.  They had been slogging continuously through the knee deep water since their only stop for a rest was on the patch of dry land they’d seen earlier.  Since that time there had been no more high places where the water did not reach.  Taggart strained his eyes ahead of him, almost willing a dry place to emerge.  The light was just starting to dim, and he figured they had no more than an hour before darkness descended.  Then the swamp-crocs would probably emerge.

He looked at his people and saw the different weapons that each of them carried.  He called for a halt and put both hands to the sides of his mouth as he shouted orders.

“All warriors bearing spears and javelin move to the outside.  All archers take up positions directly behind the spear bearers.  Archers string your bows, and nock your arrows, and be ready to respond.  Warriors bearing swords be ready to support and defend.”

The warriors shifted positions and arranged their weapons so they would be better situated should they be needed.  They had all noticed the failing light, and they knew what it was likely to bring, but they were warriors and accepted their situation stoically.  They also recognized the logic in the way Taggart had arranged them for defense.

A young woman moved up to Taggart’s left side.  She was an archer, and she carried her bow with a confidence that Taggart admired.

“Are you any good with that weapon, Warrior?” he asked.

The youth regarded him calmly.  “Yes, Sub-Commander.  It was I who killed the other swamp monster last night.”

Taggart recalled that the last swamp-croc that was trying to drag the female warrior away was killed by two well placed arrows to the head.  At the time he had assumed the shafts came from two archers because of the speed in which they struck.  Now seeing this young warrior at his side he realized it had been the work of just this one.

“What is your name, Warrior?”

“I am Tay, Sub-Commander.  I have orders to protect you.”

“Orders?  From who?”

“From my King’s Sword, Lord Jo-Dal, Sub-Commander.”

“Well, Warrior Tay, I must say I feel much safer now that I can count on your protection.”

Tay searched his face for an indication of whether she was being mocked.  “I know you are a powerful warrior, Sub-Commander, but even the most powerful of us can benefit from another’s skills.”

Taggart put a hand on her shoulder.  He towered over the young archer, but remained impressed by the manner in which she returned his gaze.  By this time he was accustomed to others being slightly intimidated by his size and muscularity.  “Rest assured, Good Warrior, that I value your skills, and I
do
feel safer at your presence.”

Tay saw the truth of his words in his expression.  She simply nodded and moved to a position behind Lyyl who was on the outer edges of their group.

Taggart saw the shadows growing deeper and darker.  His feet ached from being waterlogged and blisters were forming on his right heel.  He needed to get somewhere dry where he could attend to it before it became a serious problem.  He wondered how many of his warriors were having the same problems.

“Sub-Commander,” Lyyl shouted and pointed.  “Is that dry land ahead?”

Taggart raised up on his tiptoes.  About two hundred yards in front of them he saw a swath of green and yellow.  “I think it may be.”  He turned his head to shout to the warriors behind him.  “Dry land just ahead.  Walk faster but remain vigilant.”

The group almost doubled its speed, anxious to be out of the water before the swamp-crocs emerged.  Taggart stood to the side and waved everyone forward.  He noticed that Tay, Lyyl, Geraar and Toria stayed by his side.  He smiled at the thought that these young warriors had decided to become his personal bodyguard.

When the procession began climbing up out of the swamp and onto the newly-discovered patch of dry land Taggart followed the last person in the group.  He moved everyone as far from the water’s edge as he could.  He was encouraged to see that there was enough room to accommodate the entire compliment of warriors from the four kingdoms.

He checked the angle of the sun and was dismayed to see that darkness was almost upon them.  He heard splashing and saw the second group of one hundred warriors approaching.  He shouted and waved at them, encouraging them to hurry.  They did but Taggart realized that the following groups were not going to make it before dark fall.

Taggart reached behind his shoulder and drew his sword.  His efforts against the swamp-crocs on the previous evening showed him that blades would be more effective against them than his mace.

He called Lyyl to his side, and spoke loud enough so that the others could hear.  “I am going to help the others.  I am placing you in charge.  Keep everyone far from the swamp edges.  Make certain that everyone gets their feet dry, and have the healer check and treat any injuries or sores.”  Lyyl tried to convince Taggart that he should accompany him, but Taggart told him he had been given an order and was to obey it.  The lad was disappointed, but he saluted and turned to the others to carry out Taggart’s instructions.

When Taggart was climbing down and back into the water he heard additional splashes and looked to see Tay, Toria and Geraar jumping in also.  He almost ordered them back onto the little island but stopped himself.  He could quite possibly need their support.  With the exception of Toria, they were all warriors and he decided to pay them the compliment of regarding them as such.

Together the four of them made their way quickly back in the direction from which they had come.  They passed the second group and assured them that dry land was near.  The smiles lifted Taggart’s spirits.  There was approximately ten minutes of separation between the ten groups of one hundred, depending on how quickly each group traveled.

Taggart intended to find each group and inform them of the presence of the dry land ahead and urge them to move more quickly.  He also thought that he and his “bodyguard” might be able to help them each fend off any attacks from the swamp-crocs and any other nocturnal predators.

About three minutes after they passed the second group they saw the third.  That was good, they all seemed to be moving quickly.  They passed them and informed them of the good news.

The fourth group was not far behind the third.  Jo-Dal was leading this component, and he sent the others ahead while he joined Taggart and his people.

The fifth and sixth passed them by, and Taggart began to think they were going to be okay.  The sun was almost fully below the horizon now with only a thin glowing slit of an arc showing.

The shadows in the water and foliage grew darker.  Taggart saw serpents emerging from burrows dug into muddy bogs.  He prayed they were neither poisonous nor large constrictors.

Their luck ran out just before they reached the seventh group of warriors.  Tinker, who had been riding on Taggart’s shoulder sent him a wave of warning and urgency.  Then she crawled quickly down his vest and climbed into the sling that he always wore.  With her safely tucked away it left Taggart free to engage any enemies he might encounter. 

Next to him, Pan also scrambled down from Toria’s shoulder to the leather bag she had obtained for the same purpose.

Taggart knew that Spall was leading this party, and he heard his voice shouting as he organized their defense.

Taggart started running as fast as he was able in the knee-deep swamp.  He heard the sounds of battle ahead of them.  There were several loud shouts, but, at least thus far, no screams of pain or terror.

They rounded a turn in the swamp’s path and directly ahead saw Spall’s troupe.  Around them was a cluster of approximately fifteen Swamp-crocs.  They were standing fully erect on their hind legs and darting in and back as they attempted to snag a warrior with their long mouths or their odd looking claws.

Spall’s warriors had been prepared.  Their commander had arranged his warriors in much the same manner as Taggart had his.  Each time one of the reptilian monsters would dart in toward them it would receive multiple spear thrusts and the piercing of arrows. 

As Taggart and his team caught up to them he saw several crocs floating lifelessly on their backs or half submerged, displaying the effectiveness of the human’s defenses.  Taggart raised his sword and waded in, intending to sever the head of one of the monsters as it was turned away from him.  The reptile heard his splashing approach and turned.  It raised both clawed hands and charged.  Just before it reached Taggart an arrow pierced its eye.  It shuddered and seemed to be trying to continue its attack, but the shaft had buried itself deeply into the creature’s brain.  The beast slowly fell backward and slid lifelessly into the water.  Tay stepped up even with Taggart and quickly nocked another arrow.

There were still plenty of targets to attack.  Taggart found another croc that had grabbed a warrior’s javelin in his jaws and was shaking its ugly head in an attempt to steal it away.  He came up behind the animal and grunted with the effort as he swung the heavy, sharp blade.  The sword entered the croc’s body at what would be the shoulder of a human.  The weight of the blade, aided by Taggart’s otherworldly strength traveled through the torso until it hit the spine.  The creature fell into almost two separate pieces.

Others were having a similar effect upon the creatures.  Tay’s arrows were finding numerous targets.  The accuracy of the young warrior was almost inhuman.  Geraar, who was uncommonly strong for an Olvioni, had already launched his spear to deadly effect and was now hacking away with his sword.  Toria still carried the odd, wide-bladed sword that she had gotten from Taggart.  When he had recovered his own weapons he had given it to her.  Taggart watched as she came up behind one of the crocs.  With her impressive speed she delivered three deep gashes into the animal’s back.  When it turned and swiped at her she jumped backward just out of its reach and hacked at it below its jaws.  Her weapon cut a large artery, and the predator fell, spewing its life blood into the swamp. 

Then there was almost a silence.  The warriors turned around and around searching for other dangers.  There were no more.  Taggart counted eighteen dead and floating reptile bodies.  It seemed that the warriors of Olvion, Aspell and Archer’s Gate were capable of repelling the attacks of the swamp crocs if they were aware of the threat.

Spall sent his group ahead and joined Taggart’s party as they found and urged the remaining groups onward.  There were a few more scattered attacks.  One warrior was dragged under water and never seen again.  Another suffered a fairly serious gash on his upper arm, but that was the extent of it.  The survivors all eventually reached the raised island and climbed out of the smelly mud.   Most climbed as far inland as they could reach before collapsing.  Dozens of fires pushed back the gloom and vigilant warriors stood watch near the water’s edge.

Toria sat resting next to Taggart on a small, grassy hillock.  She had removed her boots and dried her feet as best she could.  The fire was drying her boots and socks which she had placed on a set of sticks pushed into the ground.  Between them, Pan and Tinker played and wrestled.  Toria watched their antics for a moment.

“Tag, does Tinker ever speak to you with words?  I mean, Pan is able to make me aware of whatever he chooses by sending me feelings and images, but I heard she can actually talk with you.”

Taggart reached down and scratched Tinker between her shoulder blades.  The beautiful animal temporarily ceased her play with her mate to close her eyes and enjoy the attention.

“She does, but it’s painful for her.  I don’t know why that is.  She seems to have no problem translating Olvioni into English, my native language, and back again, but to form and project her own words is simply too painful for them to do it for very long.  I think also that the connection between you and Pan needs to have time to grow a bit more before he can try.  Whatever happens you must understand that using words should be reserved for the rare occasions when their common means of communication is not adequate.”

Toria studied his face for a moment as if she expected the big man to say more.  Then she reached down and scratched Pan under the chin.

Geraar approached them.  He had recovered his spear and carried it under his arm.  He saluted Taggart.

“Sub-Commander, I tried to follow this island back as far as it runs.  It stretches out in the direction we are heading for nearly a half mile.  We can be dry tomorrow for a little while, at least.”

Taggart regarded the young powerhouse.  He seemed to always be doing what was needed without direction.

“Excellent.  Now listen to me Warrior.  I need you refreshed and rested tomorrow.  I count on you and I need you ready.  You are off of the watch schedule for tonight, and I want you to get some sleep.  Starting now.”

Geraar looked from Taggart to Toria.  He saluted again and turned to walk away.

“Wait Geraar,” Toria said.  She turned to Taggart.  “I have a few things to discuss with Warrior Geraar.  I won’t be long.”

Taggart returned her look with a half-smile that showed his understanding.  “Of course.  Discussions are important.”