Knights of Aralia Book III: The Return of Hope

KNIGHTS OF ARALIA Book III: The Return of Hope J. S. ALLEN ALSO BY THIS AUTHOR: Knights of Aralia Book I: Remnants of Light Knights of Aralia Book II: Evil Rising Sauragia Journey to the Red Mountain Woodland Tales This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Text and Maps Copyright © 2024 by J. S. Allen Cover Art Copyright © 2023 by Ilya Royz Published by Bluedrake Books, an imprint of Ash Tree Media All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication Data provided by Five Rainbows Cataloging Services Names: Allen, J.S., 1995- author. Title: The return of hope / J. S. Allen Description: Belton, MO : Bluedrake Books, 2024. | Series: Knights of Aralia, bk. 3. | Summary: Fordain and his companions find themselves on the frontlines of a war in the field and in the mind. Identifiers: ISBN 978-1-956619-19-5 (hardcover) | ISBN 978-1-956619-20-1 (paperback) | ISBN 978-1-956619-21-8 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Young adult fiction. | CYAC: Dragons--Fiction. | Knights--Fiction. | War--Fiction. | Fantasy. | BISAC: YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Fantasy / Epic. | YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Action & Adventure / General. | YOUNG ADULT FICTION / Animals / Mythical Creatures. | YOUNG ADULT FICTION / War & Military. Classification: LCC PZ7.1.A45 Re 2024 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.A45 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]--dc23. Visit ashtreemedia.com Griffarus gazed intently at the far horizon. Still nothing stirred but the sapphire blue waves of the Sea of Pellias. He sighed, turning his eyes to the Gathorian trade vessel about a quarter of a mile off the starboard side. Beside it were two larger vessels waving the white eagle of the Primus Emprius from their flagstaffs. Commerce raiders, most likely commanded by a couple of eager captains aiming for promotions. He watched as the two docked with the trading ship and the crews proceeded to board it. He was not unfamiliar with the process, having taken part in the commandeering of a few ships throughout his lifetime, but still he found it fascinating. Now aboard the vessel, which by signals from the other ships he knew to be called the Lorelei, the officer on the port-side ship accepted the surrender of the merchant captain. Following this, the Imperial soldiers took to looting the cargo hold of valuables and foodstuffs, then dredging up the remainder of the crew from below deck. He felt a brief pang of sympathy for the unfortunate men, knowing that they would either be impressed into the Eastern Navy or shipped to the Far South to live out the rest of their miserable lives as galley slaves on some Elnorian warship. The Lorelei would either be burned in place or taken into port to be refitted for use as a troop transport. He sighed again as his best mate Cassus joined him. “Anythin’ new, Griff?” his companion asked. “Or are we just inspectin’ the deck again?” “Nothing we haven’t seen before, Cas,” replied Griffarus, keeping his eyes on the spectacle. Cassus watched with only passing interest. “Ol’ Quintilius is at it again, eh?” he said, recognizing the ship. “Ain’t that six this week alone?” “Seven,” corrected Griff. “Aye, seven. Someone’s got his eye on the next rank, I see.” Cassus stroked his full, greying beard with a half-toothed grin. Griffarus and his companion could not have been more different. Cassus was the very essence of a man who had served far too many years before the mast. He spent most of his time on land either drunk out of his senses or playing games of chance at some tavern’s back table. Ten years the senior of Griff, he had begun his career as a pickpocket on the streets and docks of the town in which he had grown up. He had been orphaned at an early age, and so had learned the hard way to either toughen up or die. Thus, he had become as sly and merciless as any cutthroat could be, and had soon formed his own gang of no-goods and bandits within his hometown. In search of greater adventure, they had taken to the seas. Following the fortuitous capture of an unarmed fishing trawler with a stash of valuables hidden below deck, they had never looked back. Griffarus, or just Griff as most knew him, was a refined individual from a fairly upstanding family on the southern coast of Emprius. His love of the sea was inspired by his father, who had owned a trading company with a partner. The business had passed to Griffarus when his father had died, but he was no businessman, and had soon lost a great deal of money. Having fallen on hard times, he had decided to sell the company and strike out on his own as a first-rate sailor. He had enjoyed it, but found the simple shipping of goods from one port to another rather tiresome, and hardly worth the pay. Thus, he had fallen in with Cas and his band of rabble. Despite their differences, their shared love of the sea and excitement had held them together for years beyond count. They had had a ship of their own once called the Sea Star, but it had been badly damaged in a storm off the Imperial coast just a month before, and needed more than a few repairs to be seaworthy again. So, the pair and their crew had agreed to sail on board one of the rebel vessels that needed a crew under a commander appointed by the Primus Emprius. The Sea Star was currently moored in a secret hideaway somewhere along the coast, where it would remain until they could acquire the materials for the repairs. They would then revert to their lawless ways until their days ran out or some fortunate pirate hunter caught them up. For now, however, they were both in the service of the Primus Emprius, a duty which paid well and offered them ample opportunities to do what they did best. They did not fully understand the organization’s lofty goals and ideals, nor did they really care. But they did see it as a rising power in the world, and thus an opportunity for wealth and action. “Blast, I wish we’d got that one,” continued Cas. “It looks like a full load, that. And without escort too! What would they be thinkin’ then?” “I don’t know, Cas,” replied Griff. “But I imagine they weren’t expecting to find us here.” “That’s for sure.” Cas proceeded to spit a wad of that exotic leaf he chewed over the side of the ship. “Aye, ‘tis a loverly day to be seaside though, ain’t it?” “I’ve not seen one better in a while.” This was not completely true. It had been a week since the last storm had threatened them off the Gathorian coast, but not one of the past days since had been quite so cloudless and bright as this one. There really was nothing like a life on the open sea. “Oh,” muttered Cas, clearing his mouth of the minty substance entirely. “Best buck up, matey. Looks like the cap’n’s a-comin’.” Griff glanced toward the stern. Sure enough, their unit leader, Tiberius Noctus, was coming with that long, slow stride of his. Griff straightened up immediately and checked that his tunic was neat and brushed off. The officer sauntered over and the two gave him a good Imperial naval salute. “Mornin’, sir,” greeted Cas. “Beautiful day, eh?” “It is that,” said the legatus in his usual absent-minded manner. He watched the plundering of the nearby ship with the same unperturbed air, and shook his head ever so slightly. “That’s the sixth this week for Captain Varo, is it not?” “Seventh, sir,” Griff corrected again. “Right, seventh,” he noted carelessly. He sighed, then regarded the two pirates as though just noticing them. “Haven’t you two got some sort of duty to be attending to?” “Not just now, Cap,” remarked Cas. “The quartermaster below said we could take a breather on the deck for the time bein’. It’s been awful quiet ‘round here of late.” “Oh, really?” said Noctus, shifting his gaze away for a moment. He regarded Cas anew and nodded curtly. “All right. But mind you don’t stay out here too long. It’s a scorcher of a day.” “Of course, sir,” Griff assured him. “We won’t be long.” That was what they so loved about “Cap’n Noctus.” He was so nonchalant about everything, and always seemed to be too preoccupied with other thoughts to be very stringent with rules where the ship and its crew were concerned. Maybe it was that constant, in some ways eerie, absent-mindedness he had about him. Maybe he was just an honestly likeable officer. Who could say? All they knew was that they had gotten lucky when they were assigned to be part of his crew, especially considering how harsh some of the other Primus Emprius captains could be with their mercenary recruits. It was difficult to believe at times that he was really one of them. “Oh!” Noctus spun around suddenly. “I wanted to inform both of you that we shall be bringing her into port in a couple of days. You are not obligated to continue with us, but we would like to sign you on for another three months anyway.” “Why sure, Cap. Only too happy to oblige you and yours for a while longer.” “Thank you...er...” “Cassus,” supplied Griff. “Yes. Cassus. And...” “Griffarus.” “Right.” Legatus Noctus paused for a long while and glanced again at the captured vessel. Evidently this one had been deemed valuable, as it was being manned by their own troops. The goods were through being unloaded. And so, after detaching itself from the boarding ramps of the larger Imperial Aromae and Tacitus, it continued in its intended direction to one of many ports along the southern coast of Gathor now under the control of the Eastern Union, floating just a bit higher above the waterline. “Well,” said Noctus, returning to the present. “Carry on, men. I shall see you again around suppertime, I imagine.” “That you will, sir,” promised Cas as he and Griff saluted. “We’re many things, but late for mealtime ain’t one of ‘em.” “Quite,” said Noctus, dismissing them with a casual salute. He then turned on his heel and continued his leisurely patrol down the deck. When he was out of hearing range, the two resumed their conversation. “Aye, there’s a good man, that un,” spoke Cas. “He don’t make much small talk, and he might not be the most aggressive plunderer I seen, but he’s a fine man just the same.” “He’s drifting on his own sea, most of the time,” said Griff. “But you’re right. He’s certainly a more agreeable man than some of the commanders in this fleet. The stories I’ve heard about that Captain Varo...” He shook his head. “Aye, ‘tis so.” “Still, I wish he’d show a little more liveliness from time to time. This waiting around for something to fall into our net isn’t the life for me.” “If’n we had a ship faster ‘n this ol’ Astra, I’d agree completely. But I have to admit, there’s a certain charm about sittin’ around on deck all day in a nice sunny clime like this and gettin’ paid for it with no risk to life or limb whatsoever. It’s almost what I imagine retirement would be like.” “True enough. A couple more months of this would be quite all right by me. By the time that’s over, who knows? Maybe we really will have enough stowed away to retire. They can’t all be as dull a day as this, can they?” “The very idea is enough to set one to thinkin’. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like, not havin’ to ride the waves anymore in search of mischief to make a fortune. It does sound nice, come to think on it.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Aah, but on second thought, I don’t believe I could ever give it up. The sea’s where I’s made to be, an’ not even the richest kingdom in the Far South could entice me to give up that good ol’ salty air.” “Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Griffarus, inhaling a good dose of that invigorating sea air himself. “I don’t think I could ever give it up either, even if I wanted to. After all, I couldn’t really imagine a couple of tried-and-true scalawags living a cozy life in some ruler’s palace, could you?” “Oh, I don’t know,” said Cassus, striking an imperious pose. “What d’you think of ol’ Emp’ror Cas, hmm?” They shared a hearty laugh. “No, matey. We was born for the sea, you an’ I. An’ with any luck, we’ll die with them clear blue waters under an’ over us.” Griffarus watched as the newly captured merchant ship made its way farther and farther across the northern horizon. When it was nearly out of sight, he turned to Cassus. “Well now, shall we take another circuit before we get back to it?” “Aye, matey. I wouldn’t mind if we took all the time in the world.” And together they went off to “inspect” the port side. “I see them! They’re coming!” “Are you sure?” asked an older officer, shielding his eyes with one hand against the glare of the afternoon sun. “Without a doubt,” said the younger, a spitting image of his elder some thirty years before. “There’s no mistaking horse or rider where the king is concerned.” “Your eyes are far better than mine, Colonel,” said the elder, gathering his reins. “Let’s go and meet them, then.” The two rode forth with an aide in a small, tight cluster, a glowing display of the finest the Kingdom of Cairaga could produce. In the lead rode Lieutenant General Ivan Mikhaelovich Garretov, the highest-ranking and most experienced officer in the entire Army of Northern Cairaga. Beside him rode his son and protégé Vladimir. They slowed to a halt as the king’s entourage came nearer. “Hail, my general!” spoke the deceptively youthful King of the Cairaga. Even the younger Garretov, who had never especially liked King Nikolai or his fondness for Western culture, could not but find him an impressive figure upon his black steed Zwaart. At only twenty-one years old, this man had taken them and their kingdom to heights never thought possible by his predecessors. In the course of but a year, he had pacified the last nomadic tribes of the Steppe, conquered the Kingdom of Baroland in the north, and nearly the entire Realm of Draakland besides. Whatever their opinions of the man himself, the confidence and awe he inspired in his followers reached to the stars and back. There was nowhere Lord Caritus could not take them. “Any news from the north, my lord?” asked the senior Garretov. “Indeed,” replied Caritus. “Kowansky and old Dagovich have secured a crossing point over the Great River, and intend to resume the campaign soon.” “That is good to hear.” “Yes. I only regret I shan’t be with them when they do. But with any luck, we’ll beat them across down at this end.” He paused as he noted the young officer beside Garretov. “You look a familiar sight, though I do not recall your name.” “My lord,” spoke Garretov. “You’ve met Vladimir Ivanovich, my son.” “But of course! This able young fellow made quite a stir outside the gates of Osterhaus in Ralgar. First one over the walls, if I recall the dispatches correctly. How’s your arm, Colonel?” “Much better, thank you, sire.” “Ready to take on the Gathorians?” “Never more so.” “Excellent! Now...” He paused. “Where is General Durth?” The others regarded each other uneasily. “Our missive must not have reached him,” stated General Garretov flatly. Caritus nodded slowly. “I see. Well, I shall have to tell him later, then.” He pulled out a cloth map from his saddlebag and partially unfolded it before their eyes. “From what I understand, General Kalinovsky has taken most of Pirakos without much of a struggle. The citizen armies of the city-states were no match for the might of Cairaga. The hardy warriors of the Trikata Range have proven more difficult to pacify, but as they are mostly holed up in their mountain villages, they are of little concern to us. Our only real problem is the two states in the west that have managed to hold out, thanks mostly to the Eighth and Ninth Imperial Legions stationed there. But I have issued orders to transfer two thousand more troops and a handful of siege equipment to Kalinovsky, so they shouldn’t last much longer.” “A wise move, my lord,” remarked General Garretov. “I’m not so sure about that,” muttered Vladimir. “What’s that?” spoke Caritus. Vladimir hesitated. “Do not be afraid to speak your mind, Colonel. If you have an objection, please tell us.” “Well, mightn’t we need those two thousand for our own advance, sire? It seems to me General Kalinovsky should be more than able to take Pirakos with the twelve thousand he already has. Especially with the blockade our allies have set up of the western ports.” “Perhaps so. But the additional troops can only help him achieve his goal that much faster. As soon as he has done so, we will get over thrice that number back. But don’t worry, Colonel. With twenty thousand men plus allies, we are not completely helpless. Our force will be sufficient to eliminate the Gathorian threat.” “The plan is still the same, is it?” spoke General Garretov. “Yes. Straightforward enough. As Colonel Garretov says, our blockade and capture of those ports utilized by Gathor has been going splendidly. Now we’ve got them hemmed in from three sides, the time is ripe to strike. As soon as our Imperial allies are ready, we will make our main overland thrust in the centre. We will concentrate our forces in an attack on the capital at Urbs Stellarum. Any survivors will likely flee to the fortified city of Hansenburg here. General Dmitriov.” He addressed the ancient cavalry commander with a flowing grey beard to his right. “Yes, sire?” “You will sweep across the north of Gathor and secure the road to Ralgar. That way, once we’re done with operations here, we can swing northward and conclude the venture my dearest cousin Sergei started before winter sets in. Clear?” “Clear!” the officers echoed, glowing with confidence. “Right! Then let’s get on with it, shall we?” He folded up the map and tucked it away into his saddlebag. His officers saluted him and dispersed to see to their commands. Within half an hour, the messenger arrived from the lines of the Primus Emprius declaring that all was ready. At this, Lord Caritus sent word to his commanders to move out. Thus, the Eastern Union began its march to Gathor...and certain victory.