The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth (49 page)

“Is this real, old wizard?” Willian sniffled. “Or a trick?”

“
I would never
.” Kalzarius replied.

“The child
, is it yours
?” Without looking over his shoulder, Prince Willian asked Richmond of what he saw.

“No. The queen and I, Rosana and I, never consummated our marriage.” Richmond choked the words out, his eyes tearing up, happy and torn with sorrow upon seeing her alive and well.

“Whose is it then?” The Caberran prince spoke stern now, angry almost.

“Her secret husband, from before we met. The late Lord Knight Errant Savanno Lisario,
of the Order of Saint Tarumin
. Him, I did kill.” Richmond hung his head and let the tears fall.

“So be it. Where is she, Kalzarius?”

“
Far to the west, beyond Shanador, past the city of Freemoore, nearly two months from here.”

“She is with Cristoff, a fine lord, he will keep her safe
until we retrieve her
. Obviously his evacuation of Saint Erinsburg and journey into exile has saved many, from a most
wicked king
.” Willian turned to Richmond as the arcane scene faded from the liquid.

“I am no
t
king, not anymore.” Richmond wiped his face and pulled his chin up, trying to hold together.

“And the wicked part?” Balric asked sincerely.

“I would see it undone one hundred fold, if I had the chance.” Richmond met the eyes of the spy that was ordered to undo his rule, the one who had defended him just now, an
d the fierce stare of Balric D’V
relle did not waver.

“Merely to regain your throne?” Rodreigo replied with a questioning stare.

“No, for justice and to right my wrongs. I want no crown.” Richmond trembled, these men had honor, something he knew little of.

“
Then, if you are
speaking of atonement, words are but something for a priest to hear. Actions are what makes a man forgiven.” Prince Willian turned to Richmond, somewhat calmed that his sister was alive, somewhere safe, and this man here had not killed her as he had been led to believe.

“Then I shall do
what it takes.” Richmond nodded to Willian.

“I will believe it when I see it. For you, Richmond the Second, this may take a very long time indeed. So, it seems I will be staying in Harlaheim indefinitely, to see you redeemed.”

“With your permission my prince, I had planned on assisting our Harlian allies as well.” Rodreigo received the nod from his prince.

“Why would two Caberrans want to help a dethroned prince of Harlaheim?”
Richmond looked to them both, not sure of their intentions.

“Because we have common enemies, you and I, and our kingdoms are about to be at war with one another. Johnas Valhera holds Harlaheim with Phillip, Willborne with this Valistor Waylen, and his battle for Chazzrynn goes on as we speak. Once it is over, he has mentioned turning his forces toward Caberra. This I cannot allow, so, uncommon allies are made.” Willian spoke solemnly, with a slight bit of fear in his voice at the mention of war.

“And he holds power in the Church somewhere besides the late Cardinal Desmonde. He has eliminated the Broken Wing.” Balric added.

“The new Cardinal is arri
ving soon, to be greeted by
Phillip the First
, new king
of Harlaheim. I have an invitation to attend the cere
mony, but
had not planned on attending
. Now however, perhaps I should.” Kalzarius interjected with a smile.

“And what will we be doing while you keep them occupied?” Balric shot a questioning glance.

The old master of the arcane walked toward the chests, past the table with the ancient books, and lifted the lids. “As I was saying earlier, before young nobles found their egos more import
ant than the words of an old sage, in these chests lies the
answer.” He flipped open the old containers from Soujan Mountain.

“I know that symbol, all too well
, yet Altestan saw them all destroyed
many centuries ago, they will not be remembered.
How did you find this?” Lord Rodreigo spoke as they all stared.

“I have many old and powerful friends, and we leave it at that.” Kalzarius motioned for them to take out the contents and smiled. “The Red Wolves of Agara fought secretly against agents of Altestan, their armies, and in the dark against those all
i
ed with the northern empires in their last occupation of this continent
, four hundred years ago
. They fought hard, they dealt deadly blows, and no one knew who they were.
Packs of brothers they were, all from different kingdoms and orders, rulers and peasants, all with purpose and steel.
Their identities concealed with red masks and crimson paints of enchanted natures, their wolf lined ruby cloaks were a symbol of freedom and hope
, under God
. Their banners would raise and inspire revolution in the people, and strike fear into Altestani soldiers. And, their blades of divine and arcane design, cut down both invader and traitor alike in the dark nights
and cities
of ages past.”

Balric held up a rapier, its golden hilt glistened red, its steel was engraved with old etchings, it was nearly weightless and surely flawless in craft. Richmond lifted a cloak, thick as
wool yet soft as silk, the wolf
pelt lining seemed to move but did not. Rodreigo picked up a mask, it had a snarling snout
and fangs
, a hard thing it was made of steel and covered with some sort of red plaster.
Willian reached for a curved shamshir, a curved dagger, even steel bracers with the same plaster or paint of crimson upon them . Then, he lifted a flag and let it unfurrel. It was crimson, old and smelled of mildew, yet the deep red and black symbol of a snarling open mouthed wolf head was plain to see.
Armors, longblades, shortblades, knives, and more all littered the chests, all marked and enchanted the same.

“There are enough weapons and arms here for about twenty men, we are but four.” Rodreigo dell Amarr handed Balric a sabre, and it was refused.
He raised an eyebrow toward the Harlian swordsman.

“Then four is where it starts, as you said to me. The White Spider will have a predator on the field of night.” Balric smiled, he felt something, he looked to Richmond. “Your skills with a blade will have to be honed, your majesty.”

“Agreed. I took a few months lessons from the greatest swordsman in Harlaheim, but I retained little in truth. Now, he is dead.” Richmond stared as the crimson wares and wolf head symbol began to decorate the floor of the tower.
“I cannot do what you men do, I..I am not worthy of this.”

“You will have to be.” Balric said without room for question.

“You must speak of Sulian Lisario, master of the rapier. He is legendary in Caberra as well. You were fortunate to have learned anything from such a talented man, many would have killed for the opportunity.” Prince Willian handed some bracers and a shirt of weightless steel ringed armor to Rodreigo.

“You want to learn the rapier, Richmond?” Balric
D’Vrelle unbuckled his belt, took of the scabbard holding his sabre, and set it down.

“Well yes, it is the official blade of my kingd…of Harlaheim. But you use the sabre and are most magnificent with it---“

“To blend in with Chazzrynn, to bely my heritage, not by choice. Why was Sulian Lisario the de
adliest bla
de in Harlaheim?” Balric swished the rapier of the Red Wolves through the air, three times, faster than light.

“He trained with the Crossguard Legion, he practiced with them in Shanador and…
had over twenty duels he won in three kingdoms…
” Richmond looked at the smile of Balric, then to the blade in his hand, and
then
back up.

“He trained under
me
for three years, every single day, in the Broken Wing. My orders were sent, as were his, and we parted
ways
.
He was my best student.
When I met him, he knew as much about the sword as you do.”

“Will you teach me, Balric?” Richmond raised his
blade, it was subsequently kno
cked away with a quick disarm, too fast for the untrained eye.

“It would seem, if we are to survive and revolt, that I have little choice. The agents of the White Spider are trained by Domenarchs, who are trained by the Emerald Eight, who are all trained by Johnas Valhera. And Johnas is the only man I failed to kill when blades were crossed, it was a draw.” Balric paced, timed his steps, reliving that duel in his mind.

“A battle that will have to wait, for now.” Kalzarius piped in.

“You have our attention, our honor, and our allegiance to cause, great Kalzarius. What is your plan?” Balric, with a Caberran prince, a former king, and a foreign
swordsman
lord
, all waited and listened.

“To raise the Red Wolves once again, and see justice done in Harlaheim
, then you spread further and gain numbers where you can.
Now listen carefully, this is what I have thought up, rather quickly mind you…”

Valhirst, Chazzrynn

Mikhail withdrew his broadsword, covered in blue and purple blood, then slashed Johnas Valhera across the chest and sent him over the walls of the castle. He watched as the doppelganger reverted to the broken and bloody creature of pale white that it was, then hit the bridge below with a sickening smash of flesh. That was the third
Johnas
he had killed this battle, the third set of black eyes that stared back at him with
inhuman
wickedness, and now he was covered with the blood of shapeshifters alone on the castle walls.

“
Retreat, fall back to the
west!”

The king of Chazzrynn heard his own voice, nearly perfect, but it was not him giving the orders. He looked across the smoke filled courtyard, full of thousands in bloody battle, and saw himself shouting commands to the forces.

“Stand your ground men! That is an imposter! Kill it!” Mikhail yelled and pointed his sword to the doppelganger on the north wall. He walked down the steps, many men falling in around him.
He saw the shapeshifter lose its head, courtesy of a Knight of Southwind Keep.

“
No, that is the imposter, archers, fire!”
Another shapeshifter appeared
on the west
wall
, looking like the king, and arrows flew like rain toward the true Mikhail Salganat.

He raised his shield, as did the men around him, as hundreds of flights from bows and crossbows riddled the stairs. Six men fell dead to his sides, three more with injury, yet the king kept his march into the courtyard. His shield had at least five arrows lodged into it, yet he did not flinch.
His orders had to be heard and executed for victory, so he looked for his captains and knights
in the brutal foray
.

Lord Corey of Thoranack was dead at the gates, his body full of flights. Lord Dimitri of Addisonia was not to be found, nor his men, yet he thought he saw the banners withdraw with the false order to retreat. Lord Burraine of Silverbridge was in the thick, alongside Sir Jallan of Hurne, surrounded by the forces of the traitorous Lord Unarvin of Saint Gavrielle. Mikhail
saw General Fandruss of Loucas and
Marcu
s Mederris
to the eastern walls, battling black masked soldiers and the Valhirst legions, outnumbered three to one. Smoke rose heavy to the south,
night was coming,
yet the king could make out the horror there with the flashes of arcane lights that Aelaine Lazlette was unleashing.
She had withdrawn back outside the walls, surrounded by her men, and she was decimating a massing force
that moved
too fast to see.
Black shadows, massive cats by the hundreds, leapt and pounced, tearing apart what remained of the Vallakazz army led by Kendrynn Shilde.
It was too much to keep the south gate, and they had no choice but to battle the cats in the open fields
and retreat
.

“
The field is lost, we return to fight another day, long live Chazzrynn!”

Another order came
,
from the east
wall now, this time the doppelganger had the Chazzrynn banner waving, the order sounded real. It was not Mikhail, but it might as well have been. The timing of the false orders c
aused confusion in the ranks, in
the men already outnumbered on a bloody field of battle. In that confusion, there was a momentary lapse of confidence and action, and the soldiers of Valhirst were merciless. Black masks and armored men cut into the forces of King Mikhail in the chaos, arrows rained, panthers ripped and shredded man from horse, and men fled the gates on false orders from imposter kings.
The creature with the banner screamed and hissed as Lord Alexi T’Vellon plunged his sword through it, over and over, then kicked it off the catwalk. His Knights of Southwind kept moving above, trying to silence the shapeshifting imposters.