Knights of Aralia Book II: Evil Rising

Chapter III: The First Assignment

Later that evening after everyone had left, the Fifteenth Wolf Section returned to the Council Chamber to hear what Lord Elezier and his peers had to say. The ten young knights lined up before the wise members of the Aralian governing body, who usually numbered eleven counting the monarchs.

Nearly every member was accounted for, Fordain could see as he entered. There were the king and queen; Lord Elezier of Akatier; Lords Corinus, Alexander, and Tullius of Emprius; Erudain of Ralgar; Janssen of Hengoroth; and Ladies Vandermeer and Hakrel of Draakland and Gathor respectively. Yes, save for Lord Pélégor, who evidently had more important things to do, everybody was there. They sat in their customary seats arranged in a semicircle facing the door with the king at the centre and the queen immediately to his right. Lord Elezier sat to his left. Fordain gave the Aralian salute, then opened the exchange.

“You sent for us, Councillors?”

“We did,” said King Frolin. “You are summoned here on account of an important order of business which the Council has almost unanimously agreed to bestow upon your unit.” Though he singled no one out, everyone understood the implication of “almost unanimously.” “But before we get to that, let me congratulate you on behalf of the entire island. The deeds this section has accomplished and the talents you have displayed, both in peacetime and in war, have prompted us to give a motion of thanks to the Fifteenth Wolves. Captain Ambrosius was especially pleased with your conduct during your expedition to Emprius last autumn.”

There were nods of approval from the other Council members, and the young knights swelled with pride at the motion. King Frolin then resumed.

“Now for the business at hand,” he said, gesturing toward Lord Elezier, who stood up to speak next.

“The situation in Ralgar has become tense to say the least,” began the old knight. “Reports and rumours alike suggest that there will very likely be a war there soon, though on how broad a scale we cannot say. Whatever the case, this war may come from more than one direction, as there is talk of a union between the Realm of Aylland and the Kingdom of Cairaga, which seems more and more likely to be true. But we cannot openly declare war on the Cairaga unless we are absolutely sure they have joined with our enemy. That, my friends, is where you come in.

“Already we have many soldiers tied up in the conflict in the Far South, and have been able to spare few for patrols of the mainland,” he went on. “Reports have become less and less frequent in the last few months due to the raids interrupting the flow of messages west of the Bluefall Mountains. Thus, we need someone to go to the Kingdom of Ralgar and find out where matters lie. A reconnaissance in force, as it were. As your unit has not seen much active duty for the last year, Lieutenant, we expect that you should be prepared enough to take on this task.”

Here Queen Falin took up the briefing.

“Your duty on this mission is straightforward but extremely vital. You will go to Ralgar and investigate the situation there, sending reports back via messenger raven if possible. You must deliver a warning to Tégor’s Fortress, the seat of King Thjógor, of the impending danger if he is not already aware, and deliver to him a letter from King Frolin reassuring him of our support in case of invasion. Finally—and only if you deem it practicable—you will help the Ralgarians defend their kingdom should it be attacked, until such time as the threat is eliminated or Aralia can send a force to help relieve it.”

“It is a mission that entails both great danger and great speed,” Lord Elezier resumed. “The more so because, with the passes of the Bluefalls occupied by enemy forces, you will not be able to travel directly to Ralgar. Instead, you must travel through Hengoroth to reach it. While there, you shall visit the Tower of the Elders near the South Fork River and speak to the Draga Elder Vargon. He is no doubt much better acquainted with the situation on the mainland than we, and should be able to provide you with valuable information for your journey.” He produced a cloth bundle both flat and wide, tied up neatly with a couple lengths of string. “It is also essential that he receive this, and that you be the ones to deliver it.”

“What is it?” asked Morgan as she accepted the letter and the rather weighty bundle from Elezier.

“Another dispatch of vast import, and one which must remain strictly confidential between the Elder and myself.”

“It will be done, sir,” Fordain assured him.

“Now then,” said King Frolin. “It is six months since your last expedition to the mainland. Are you well rested?”

“We are, sire. The last scout to southern Emprius was hardly a challenge.”

“Then do you, Lieutenant Abendroth, accept these duties placed upon you by this council and the responsibility for their success or failure?”

“I do,” responded Fordain without hesitation.

“Then there is but one more item to take care of. Lord Tullius will soon be departing for the shores of the Southern Territory to join the rest of his troops on the Ahmedian Front and take command of the situation there. He has an escort, though we are short of interpreters for this expedition. We understand that there are some among your unit familiar with the tongues and customs of the region. And so, we request that he be allowed to borrow their services. They would, of course, return to your command once their mission is complete.”

Fordain was taken aback by the request. Lord Tullius was a quiet, seasoned man, and one of the more senior Council members. He had also been a good friend to Lord Maritius when he was alive, so Fordain had great respect for him. The old commander smiled at the young knight, who looked to the willing faces of his friends before replying:

“It would be an honour to provide assistance to Lord Tullius. Julius, Lampolo, and Dèscar do indeed speak fluent Ahmedian. I offer their services for this purpose.”

“You have our sincerest thanks, Lieutenant,” said the king. “That will be all. Or almost.” He nodded to a guard, who stepped forward with a small bag, which he handed to Fordain.

“This bag contains the equivalent of twenty golden denarii,” explained Falin. “It should be more than sufficient for your expenses abroad.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“You and your section may go and rest now. You will depart tomorrow from the north docks. The ship will already be waiting. Those bound for the Ahmedian Front will assemble here in the Council Chamber. As we will likely not meet again before then, farewell, and Arden be with you on your journey.”

“Thank you, Councillors,” said Fordain as all ten Wolves saluted, then left the chamber in good order. Once they were gone, King Frolin turned to his fellow Council members and said, “It is late for all of us, I think. Let us call this session adjourned.”

Nods of agreement ensued, and the Council of Aralia dispersed.

In the courtyard outside the Council Chamber, the ten young Aralians conversed excitedly about their first unaccompanied mission to the mainland. Their first assignment alone! It was a thrilling prospect, but though they were all experienced knights to some degree, they expressed some uncertainty as well.

“Our first task by ourselves,” spoke Wavae cheerily. “How liberating it feels, eh Fordain?”

“Yeah, you must be right thrilled at ‘avin’ your own command,” added Julius, who had been brought up in an Imperial fishing village, and still retained his nautical way of speaking.

“I can’t say I feel any different than before,” responded Fordain. “I’m glad to be on the move once again, yes, but as to being the commander, I don’t know whether to feel more liberated or more duty-bound than ever.”

“Either way, it’s certainly gonna’ be an adventure,” said Lampolo, the younger brother of Julius. “Even if we are goin’ two diff’rent places.”

“I’m sorry I volunteered you three to go south,” said Fordain. “But I wouldn’t have done so if I didn’t think you were the best for the task.”

“We understand, Fordain,” said Dèscar. “You are the commander, and we go where we are bidden.”

“Asides,” added Julius in his carefree way, “we’re the lucky ones, if’n y’ask me—an’ I ‘opes you won’t. We’re goin’ where the action is. Doubt you’ll see much where you’re goin’.”

“We’ll see plenty of our own action,” Wavae shot back. Being the youngest in the unit, Wavae still had a somewhat impulsive competitive streak.

“Indeed, according to what I’ve heard, there should be foes aplenty where we are headed,” Elagor backed him up. Elagor Vos was one of the older members of the group, behind only Morgan, Lampolo, and Julius in years, but he had taken a liking to Wavae since their first meeting. The fact that they were both bowmen and had both lived at one time or another in Hengoroth helped. Although he was wiser and more well read, Elagor still had a playful streak in him that could only be brought out by Wavae, and so the two always looked out for one another.

“That’s what concerns me,” said Béragon, who had always been the cautious sort. His caution sprang not from cowardice, but from the fact that he and Wavae had witnessed the murder of their parents and subsequent destruction of their home when they were younger. In the absence of their elder brother, Éogor, he saw it as his duty to look after his younger siblings. “How do we know that the condition of the roads will not have worsened by the time we arrive on the mainland?”

“We don’t, brother, but we must remain confident that the Arden will show us the way,” replied Ingred, Béragon’s twin sister. Her hair was a lighter blonde and her complexion slightly fairer than his, but their matching height and blue eyes marked them undeniably as siblings. “Besides, we’ve been in perilous situations before and come through unscathed. Why should our fortunes go astray on so simple a mission as this?”

“Fortune favours no one, sister,” replied Béragon. “And our leaders this time are not Generals Elezier and Maritius.”

“Is that a lack of confidence in our leadership I detect?” questioned Elagor almost dangerously. Elagor was among the oldest, and doubtless the most loyal friend Fordain had, and though he was typically easy to get along with, he did not take slights to himself or his friends lightly, even when they came from other friends.

“Don’t worry, Elagor,” spoke Fordain to placate him. “I admit, I probably wouldn’t put my fullest faith in one so inexperienced either.”

“Nor would I,” added Morgan. “If I didn’t know him as well as I do, of course.”

“Well, mateys,” spoke Julius. “Any way you slice it, we’re off early tomorrow. So if’n you don’t mind, I think I’ll turn in now. Comin’, Lamp?”

“Sure thing,” agreed Lampolo. “Night, all.”

“Good night, my friends,” bad Fordain as the two brothers strode off into the night. He smiled inwardly at the sight of the two walking together. He had once had a brother, but that had been long ago. He did not like to talk about it now. Not since the fire...

Fordain turned to the others, shaking off the memory. “I believe they have the right idea. Tomorrow begins our journey in earnest. We wouldn’t want to be tired out before we even begin.”

“Agreed,” said Morgan, and with a few final remarks from Wavae and Evander, the young knights dispersed to return to their lodgings on the western end of town, continuing to exchange banter with one another as they walked down the quiet, familiar streets of nighttime Aralia.

King Frolin gazed down upon the scene in the courtyard from the balcony of the royal chambers. He leaned forward with both hands grasping the banisters tightly. His heart lightened on beholding the spectacle of youthful optimism, but it was quite evident from his indifferent countenance, faraway gaze, and tense poise that he was troubled by something deeper. He remained there for some time pondering that which was to come for those young warriors, for others like them, and for Aralia. He was soon joined by Queen Falin, who silently took her place beside the king. She hesitated a moment, then sighed and spoke:

“You worry about him?”

“I worry about all of them,” replied Frolin without shifting his gaze from the courtyard and the city beyond.

“Fordain has proved himself a very capable knight in the past,” Falin went on, also looking across the cityscape. “I see no cause to doubt his abilities now. The task before them should be easy enough for a first assignment.”

“Should be,” repeated Frolin, as though the words disturbed him. “Yet, we’ve no way of knowing what they may encounter on the paths they shall tread. Even long-established roads have become much less sure of late, and they become less so every day.”

“Do you think we should have sent someone else, then?”

Frolin looked for the first time at the queen. “Who would we send? We are in want of able soldiers as it is, and many of those we have are either engaged with Algoron’s forces in the South or wounded beyond the means necessary for such an undertaking.” He sighed and once again looked away. “I do not doubt their hearts, nor their commitment and ability to do what is asked of them. Lord Elezier has full confidence in them, and I see no reason to question his judgment. However, I highly doubt the ability of the kingdom and order they serve to aid them in their trials, and should it be deemed necessary, to fight an all-out war.” He paused. “Nay, Falin, there is no one else. A thousand years this kingdom has stood, yet now we are weak and growing weaker. The Golden Order is fading, and the enemy knows it.”

Falin nodded and resumed a thoughtful silence. She knew that Frolin was not despairing—he was the last to do so—but deeply concerned for the future of his realm and subjects as a good king should be. She felt this concern too. The many evil scenarios that could befall the expedition ran over and over within her mind as well. It was folly to risk such skilled warriors on such a seemingly trivial mission, she knew. But the king was right: there was no one else. Every month since Lord Maritius’s death a year and a half before, more and more knights had failed to return from missions to the mainland, some on much simpler errands than this one. Whether fled, killed, or captured it mattered little. The fact was, the once glorious order of almost five thousand had been reduced by nearly half in recent years. There were other Aralians, of course, and many warriors among them. But these were not knights proper, and in light of recent events, it looked as though the order was on its last legs. If a war did come about, and Aralia found itself caught up in that war, it would most assuredly bring with it their utter ruin.

Nevertheless, there remained a flicker of hope amid the impending doom. Among the few new warriors in the service of Aralia were several with great potential. A last flicker before the fire went out, some said. Perhaps. Should any of Fordain’s knights fail to return from this foray, it would be a terrible waste of that potential. But Falin refused to believe that they could fail. She simply could not.

She reached up and placed a hand on her husband’s armoured shoulder.

“There is naught more we can do now, my king,” spoke she. “We must let events run their course. And if that course leads to war...” She hesitated. “Well, Arden’s will be done. We will do our duty no matter.”

Frolin half-smiled. “Never do I tire of your faith, Falin. It is that spirit which has brought this kingdom through so much.” He turned away. “Come. Like the young, the old too must have their rest, and you and I are no exception.”

“We’re not so old as that just yet, dear Frolin.” She looked once more to the stars and added quietly to herself, “That is a luxury we can ill afford now.”

“Here we are, then!”

Elagor lay a broad plate on the table laden with a steaming slab of venison cooked to perfection.

“It looks wonderful, Elagor!” exclaimed Evander. “Smells nice, too. Thou an’ Ingred sure make a fine team when it comes to cookin’, no mistake.”

“Thank you, Evander,” said Ingred. “Although I still can’t believe you bought this, Elagor. It must have cost a fortune.”

The Vildegraad shrugged. “What else am I going to use it for? Besides, I hadn’t time to go hunting today, and I wanted us to have something special to mark Fordain’s promotion.”

“And our first venture to the mainland alone,” added Evander.

“Yes, that too.”

“I wish I’d known you were planning this,” stated Fordain, taking only a modest portion. “I wouldn’t have bothered stopping by the Mess earlier.”

“Don’t worry, mate,” remarked Evander. “What we don’t eat, we c’n take along an’ dig into on t’road.”

“I don’t see how,” said Ingred. “It won’t keep. Would that we had one more day to finish or at least preserve it, but alas.” She paused and looked around at the little living and dining room they had shared since first coming to the island. “I do hate to leave the place so suddenly. Especially when we’ve finally got everything arranged just right.”

“It’ll still be here when we come back,” said Elagor, taking a bite. “Mm! I doubt anyone will disturb our belongings.”

“Afraid we’d spike ‘em dead if’n they tried!” said Evander with a grin.

Elagor nodded. “And we can always arrange for someone to tend the window garden.”

“I know.” She stopped short of saying what was on all their minds: that they might not be coming back. But it evidently didn’t need saying, as the rest of their meal was taken in reflective silence. When they had finished, they retired to their four separate corner bedrooms, wishing one another a quiet but heartfelt good night.

Ingred found herself inexplicably wakened. Something was bothering her. It was, perhaps, something that had been bothering her for a long time, but it felt particularly strong tonight. She tried to go back to sleep, but sleep would not come. So, lacing her boots back on, she went out for a walk. It always felt good to walk through the streets of Aralia at night. The near solitude and fresh air were at once invigorating and soothing. It was as though the spirit of the very island itself was afoot, watching over its inhabitants with the love—or when needed, ferocity—of a nurturing mother.

Her stroll this time led her straight to the stables, though she knew not why. There she was only mildly surprised to find Fordain, who was tending his fine white stallion Solus. He wore only a pair of ragged shorts and his medallion, as usual when he was not on duty. He had never liked clothes, and tended to wear as little as possible indoors or out regardless of the weather. In all the time she had known him, she had only seen him shod on exactly two occasions. It had something to do with his rural roots and the deep spiritual connection his people, the Noronir, maintained to the natural world. There were some even here in Aralia who derided the Noronir for what they deemed their primitive or superstitious ways, but their words never seemed to affect Fordain.

Solus was a Ralgarian, and therefore considered one of the finest steeds on the island. His coat shone brightly like the sun in daylight, and none could deny he was incredibly fast. Fordain had had Solus for longer than he had known any of those he now called friends in Aralia, and so the two shared an exceptionally strong bond. As she came closer, she could hear Fordain talking softly to the horse.

Ingred had always guessed that he was a Vildspreek: one who could communicate with animals, and who, it was said, had a spirit that never died. Fordain was not quite so sure, though he had always gotten along extremely well with animals, from the messenger ravens in the Tower to the dogs some Aralian farmers kept, and especially with horses. He even joked once to his friends about it, saying that, “If ever I die and my spirit returns in another form, I hope it will be a stallion, just like Solus.”

Ingred announced her presence with a soft clearing of the throat. Fordain turned.

“I thought it was you,” he said. “What brings you here so late?”

“I might ask you the same,” replied Ingred. “But I can’t sleep.”

“Nor can I.”

“That is unfortunate. Considering you’re the leader of our expedition, you need your rest more than any of us.”

“I’ll manage. Besides, I don’t imagine we’ll be getting too much sleep out on the open road, what with the rotating watches and all that. Just getting in some practice.”

“All the more reason to rest while you can. Still, when you can’t, there’s nothing to be done, I suppose.”

“Suppose right.”

A momentary pause ensued, after which Ingred resumed, “I’m worried.”

“About what?” asked Fordain, stroking Solus’s mane.

“Everything. The expedition. The possibility of another war, even worse than the last one we were in. Despite what I said before, I fear Béragon may be right. We have no idea what we’ll be riding into. I think the others feel it too, though they hide it well.”

“We all have our doubts, I think. We’d be foolish not to. But there’s no guarantee that we’ll go to war again.”

“Do you really believe that?” she asked, looking far from convinced. “All these reports of caravans and settlements being attacked, even armed ones. Blockade and possible invasion of a long-standing ally by an aggressor who refuses to even consider mediation.” She shook her head. “Of course there will be a war, Fordain. It seems to be the only way anyone can think of to solve problems nowadays. And we’re headed straight into the heart of it.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” He shrugged and stood up. “Perhaps we will be swept up into something bigger than we can possibly understand. But we are knights, Ingred. We have our orders. And we will fulfill them whatever it takes. Just as we always have.”

“Or die trying. Yes, I know.” She stopped short of saying anything too despairing, and tried to change the subject. “I’ve already packed my healing kit, though I hope I’ll not need it.”

“I hope the same.” He padded softly over and looked her straight in the eyes. “But whatever happens, know that you are strong, Ingred de Haas. Stronger than even you may realize. I’ve seen it on countless occasions. And I have faith that it will see you through.”

She wanted to contradict him: to voice the doubts that had been stirring in her heart. But in meeting that strong, confident gaze, she found those doubts silenced. At last, unable to say more, she merely shook her head. “I know you are right, Fordain. You always are.”

Fordain managed a flicker of a smile. “I wish that were so.”

“Well, I’ll just head back now,” Ingred concluded. “Don’t stay out too long.”

“I’ll head back soon, I promise. And I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Until tomorrow then, Lieutenant.” With that, she was gone, feeling somehow better in spite of herself. Whether it was the talk with Fordain or the nighttime Aralian air, she did not know, but the moment she returned to her bed, she was once more carried effortlessly away into the world of gentle, dreamless slumbers.