Knights of Aralia Book III: The Return of Hope

Chapter II-Preparations

Will Aralia ever be at peace?

So wondered Lieutenant Fordain Abendroth as he stood by Aralia’s northern port on this sweltering summer day. Dressed in his signature dusty shorts and the medallion of his forefathers, he leaned casually against the shaded corner of the Alenian Inn. He watched as a line of Aralian soldiers drilled with their commander by marching in an orderly column along the waterfromt. Another column marched past in the opposite direction. Friends in each unit greeted each other as they passed, much to the dismay of their officers. Fordain smiled briefly to himself on beholding the spectacle. He remembered a time not all that long ago when he and his friends had been mere trainees in the Aralian Wolves. They had been a relatively disciplined lot, but young nevertheless. And so much had happened since then.

After earning their knighthoods in the ferocious Imperial Civil War, they had essentially inherited the Fifteenth Wolf Section, of which he was presently the commander. Shortly thereafter he and most of his unit had travelled to the Realm of Hengoroth to visit the famed Draga Elder Vargon on their way to the Kingdom of Ralgar. Their intention had been to warn Ralgar’s king of danger from the distant land of Cairaga. They had arrived too late, however, and had been forced to join the king in a desperate defence of his people at the bloody Battle of Tégor’s Fortress.

Fordain remembered that most uncertain time with crystalline clarity, and found it hard to believe that it had been nearly two months ago. His friends Dèscar, Lampolo, and Julius were also members of the Fifteenth, but had not been there because they had been needed in the Far South. They had returned to Aralia shortly after his group, having carried out their own rather dangerous charge. Lampolo and Julius thought it rotten luck that they had missed out on the adventure in Ralgar, but for his part, Fordain was glad they had. It had been a trial from which any of them were fortunate to have emerged unscathed.

And now Aralia, too, was preparing its army and navy for this war that was quickly spreading to involve more and more of the world every day. It was almost too much for the young lieutenant to comprehend as he stood there ruminating beneath shade of the inn. It was a momentous task Aralia was taking on by fighting against the massive power of the Eastern Union, even with allies. But it was not in the nature of Aralians to back down from a challenge when one came their way. Indeed, it was the knights’ duty to help defend the right and just whatever it took. It was all part of their oath: the sacred Knights’ Oath Fordain and his friends had taken. And they would stand by their order and its monarchs, the much respected King Frolin and Queen Falin of Baroland, whatever happened.

As he pondered this, Evander, one his closest friends from before arriving in Aralia, came up beside him. He acknowledged the red-haired lad with a forward tilt of the head, then looked again to the activity on the docks.

“Quite a sight, aren’t they?” he remarked.

“They are at that,” said Evander in his distinctive rustic Imperial dialect. “I reckon they’ll be bound for t’mainland soon. Doubtless us too, o’ course.”

“Doubtless,” said Fordain. “Us and our reinforcements.”

“Reinforcements? What doest mean?”

“I just received word this morning that we’re going to get a couple of new recruits in the Fifteenth.”

“Really?”

Fordain nodded. “There were only a few deemed worthy of going on a real campaign this spring, and since ours is one of the smallest sections, we got first pick.”

“And? Who’d we get?”

“I chose Linde and that young Pirakoan, Hesperos.”

“That’s the pair thou an’ Dèscar have been trainin’, right?”

Fordain nodded again. “They seemed the most promising of the lot.”

“Wi’ thee as their trainer, ‘ow could they not be?”

“Fair enough,” said Fordain with a wry grin. “Any idea where the enemy will be striking next?”

“There’s talk, sure enough,” replied Evander with a sigh. “What wi’ the sightin’ of enemy ships lately, some say Emprius. Others think Gathor. A few think both. Then, o’ course, there’s a chance they’ll concentrate their efforts on conquerin’ the Far South as fast as possible. So really, no idea at all.”

“It’s hard to believe the East actually has the strength to fight in so many places at once,” said Fordain, rubbing his eyes. “We can barely keep up a good front in one.”

“Too true, mate.” Evander regarded his friend more closely. “Atta all right, Fordain?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I dunno. Thou lookst a tad weary, like thou ‘ast been worryin’ about summat.”

Fordain sighed. There was no keeping anything from Evander. The young knight’s insightfulness was simply too strong. It was perhaps this gift above all his other talents which Fordain considered to be his most valuable contribution to their unit.

“Nothing, really. I’ve just been having a few dreams lately.”

“Dreams?” repeated Evander, now genuinely curious. “What sort? The bad sort?”

“It’s hard to tell,” replied the lieutenant evasively. “They’re very foggy, and a bit mysterious.”

“What are they about, then?” spoke Evander, not content to leave it at that.

“Well...” Fordain hesitated. “I’m pretty sure they’re about what happened a few years ago. The fire. My brother.”

“Ah.”

Evander understood without the need to say more. He and the others knew all about Fordain’s brother Amon. During the last battle of the Civil War, there had been a great fire in which they had narrowly escaped with their lives. Amon, who had been among the enemy ranks, had fallen into the flames. It had been an unpleasant day for everyone, but especially for Fordain, who did not like to even mention it. For not only Amon, but one of Aralia’s greatest knights, Lord Maritius of Emprius, had also fallen that same afternoon. To say nothing of the many other fine comrades-in-arms who had died. It had been the battle that ended the war, but to this day no one in Aralia hailed it a great victory.

Just at that moment, the gallant Wolf Company Commander, Gnaeus Alexander, strode purposefully over, and they lay fists to their hearts in salute. He acknowledged the gesture with a lax version of the same.

“Good morning, Lieutenant Abendroth,” he spoke. “Morning, Evander. Fine day, wouldn’t you say?”

“Aye, sir,” said Fordain. “I was thinking of going down to the shore for a swim after manoeuvres.”

“No manoeuvres for the Wolves today, Lieutenant,” replied Alexander.

“Sir?”

“There’s an important assembly of the Council this morning. I’m surprised you didn’t know. Everyone in my company is to attend.”

“Consider us there, sir,” replied Fordain. Commander Alexander took the lead. The other two dutifully followed as he navigated his way through the busy streets and press of people toward the city centre.

In truth, though Aralia was called a city, it felt more like a very large fortified town. With its sturdy walls and the docks on the seaward side, it was always busy, but those who lived there permanently were not a great many. Upwards of five thousand certainly, and more than that if one counted the small settlements spread out along the island’s single main road, but that was it. This was mainly because the only ones living there were knights—or those aspiring to be knights—and their families in some instances. Most everyone else was just a visiting traveller or a merchant on his way from one port to the next.

Nor was there a lot of living space. Aralian dwellings typically had two storeys, each a complete home unto itself with a central cooking and gathering room. Knights below the rank of captain usually had to live four to a floor, while higher officers could live two to a floor if they so desired. Only Knights of the Inner Tier and members of the Council got a whole two-storey home to themselves. Fordain was well on his way to becoming a higher officer, but couldn’t imagine vacating the single floor he shared with Evander and their two best friends, Elagor and Ingred.

The trio soon came to the Council Chamber, the tallest structure in the whole city. It was only two floors, the Chamber itself having a particularly high ceiling, but it towered above everything else on the island save for the Argonian Mountains to the south. The more impressive sight, however, stood before the chamber in the centre of a broad square.

For in this spot was a patch of earth that sustained the very heart of the knights’ order: the Golden Tree itself, whose leaves glinted in the sunlight. It had been planted there as a sapling by King Alenius shortly after coming to the island nigh a thousand years before, and he had insisted that it remain unhindered in its growth. Every generation since had honoured his edict. As a result, it had continued to grow slowly with the ages, and was now over half as high as the Council Chamber. It was said that as long as the Golden Tree stood, so would Aralia, and such had proven true so far. Its very presence never failed to inspire hope in even the most jaded onlookers.

Arriving at the Council Chamber doors, they were ushered into the crowded anteroom by the queen’s personal aide, a young Draga named Lyra.

“Morning, Lord Alexander. Morning Lieutenant Abendroth!” said the maiden with a polite curling of her tail. Draga were essentially bipedal lizards in appearance, with sharp teeth in a lengthy snout, scaly hides, and a couple of short, slightly curved horns extending from the back of their heads. In size and demeanour, of course, they were much more like Humans than their flying cousins, the Flamewings.

“Hello, Lyra,” spoke Alexander. “Everything spot on in there?”

“Indeed, sir. The rest of the Council has been waiting on you.”

“Well, I shall keep them waiting no longer, then. Many thanks, my good drakin!”

“Any time, Commander!”

As he left, Lyra turned to Fordain.

“Lord Elezier says that officers should sit as close to the front as they can,” she advised. “Valentine and Lucius have saved a seat for you.”

“Thank you, Lyra.”

“I’ll see thee when it’s done, mate,” said Evander as Lyra guided Fordain away toward the Council Chamber.

He padded down the cool, smooth steps, scanning for familiar faces among the assembled knights. Many members of the Wolves were there, including the other knights of his Fifteenth. As he neared the front, he heard a boisterous voice calling his name above the ruckus.

“Fordain! Over here, Abendroth!”

Fordain perked up as he saw Lucius and his foster brother Valentine waving to him from the right. He waved back and made his way over to them.

“Can’t get a better view than this,” said Lucius, who had reddish blond hair like fire and a personality to match.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever gotten this close to the proceedings before,” said Fordain.

“It’s a lot more interesting, believe me,” commented the more mild-mannered Valentine. Valentine was the son of the late Lord Maritius. Lucius’s father had been a close friend of Maritius, and so he had taken the boy in when his parents had died. The two had been raised together, and were very much like brothers, albeit of very different temperaments. Not unlike the brother he had once had.

“I do. And congratulations on your promotion to captain, by the way,” said Fordain to Valentine.

“Thank you.”

“I’ve always said that Valentine would be running this entire army some day,” said Lucius. “Give it a couple more years and you’ll see.”

“Quiet now, Lucius,” said Valentine as the king and queen emerged from the rear chamber to take their seats, followed by seven other Council members. “It’s starting.”

Among the councillors was the recently elected Lord Siculus. This was his first session since being instated as the replacement for the exiled Lord Pélégor. Technically Lord Pélégor had fled after being revealed as a traitor to the Order, but a sentence of exile had been pronounced on him since.

The Southern Imperial man looked a little uncomfortable in his new position. After all, he was the youngest Council member by far, though still older than Fordain by a few years. Even more uncomfortable was the understudy of Lord Tullius, who was currently away fighting in the Far South. The seats of Lord Erudain and Lady Vandermeer were empty, for they hadn’t any understudies to serve in their absence. The audience took to their seats at a gesture from King Frolin, and when everyone had settled in, he began:

“Knights of the Order, we have come together this day to discuss our position and opening moves in this war so recently declared. Based on our current reports from the mainland and scouts at sea, General Lord Elezier has found out where the enemy is most likely to strike next. Together we have devised a plan which will allow us to aid in defending these points as efficiently as we can with what forces we have. The good general will now present this plan to you.” He nodded to Lord Elezier, who rose as the king sat down.

“My friends,” he began in his singular rasp. “As you are well aware, enemy ships have been blockading the coasts of Gathor and Pirakos for some weeks now. With the aid of their land armies, they have taken control of Gathor’s ports and nearly conquered the Pirakoan League entirely. Merchant vessels stopping by our island have now reported sighting Eastern warships in the waters just to the southeast of Aralia.”

A few gasps and murmurs came from the audience, but Elezier shook his head.

“Worry not, knights,” he reassured them. “The enemy has no intention of invading our home just yet. They have much bigger projects in mind. We believe that Gathor is their next target, but that is not all. They would not bother with a naval invasion of Gathor, which they could much more easily attack by land. Nay, based on the size of that war fleet, they intend to strike a much larger target. Therefore, we are under the impression that, due to its lack of manpower from the recent civil war and Algoron’s attack in the Far South, the enemy will strike Emprius as well. A two-pronged assault, as it were.”

More murmurs went around. Could their enemies really invade two countries at once? And if they had that sort of strength, how could their own forces stand a chance?

“We believe that it is their intention to land on the eastern coast of Emprius at about the same time they march their land army into Gathor. Those in Gathor will, ideally, sweep down through the kingdom with relative ease and join up with those in Emprius, forming one massive army with which to pursue their westward advance. Aralia, by their reckoning, will fall much more easily after Emprius and Gathor. But we are not going to allow any of that to happen. It is our intention to reinforce these points with all the strength we can spare.

“Three days from hence, Wolf, Bear, and Falcon Companies will depart for the Imperial capital at Ergamar, followed by Squirrel Company as soon as its remaining elements have returned from the Far South. From thence, Falcon and Bear Companies will proceed to the Imperial coast to reinforce the defences there. They will be joined by Group A of the Wolves under Major Ambrosius. The remainder of Wolf and Squirrel Companies will head north through the Bluefall Mountains to Gathor. They will make for the city of Sternestadt on the Great River. Some of you may know it better by its former name of Urbs Stellarum. If it should fall before our troops arrive, then they shall make instead for the fortified city of Hansenburg. The remainder of the Aralian army will stay here in the unlikely event that this endeavour should fail, and the enemy does decide to invade Aralia. The senior commanders of this expedition will be our native Imperials, Lords Corinus and Tullius. Any questions?”

“Lord Elezier,” Dèscar, a dark-haired lad of Fordain’s age from the Kingdom of Cairaga, now spoke up. “Should the worst happen, and both Gathor and Emprius fall, then Aralia will doubtless be threatened with invasion, as you say. What would you have those of us who survive do in such a scenario? Should we return to Aralia in its need, or stay on the mainland to divert the enemy’s attention?”

It was an odd and rather depressing question. Only Dèscar could have thought of it.

“We have not considered such a possibility yet, and I seriously doubt such contingencies will be needed, Dèscar,” replied Elezier to what he treated as a highly practical and sensible question. “But, should matters become that desperate, then I think it only fitting that the officers in the field make their own decisions.”

The room went quiet as everyone considered the consequences of failure. Such thoughts could not be allowed to take seed and grow within their minds, however, so Elezier quickly turned the moment to his advantage:

“However, as I have said, I doubt that it will come to that. We are Knights of Aralia. We have never failed in our promise to uphold the righteous in times of need, however great the odds. And I have full confidence in each and every one of you to maintain that highest of standards set forth by Alenius himself so many centuries ago.”

This seemed to assuage any doubts the assembled warriors had about their mission, and recharged the air with that sense of eagerness and excitement that Aralians so often felt just before a great campaign. This was precisely what Elezier wanted to see, and he moved to conclude on that positive note.

“Now then, if that is all, you may return to your quarters to rest and make whatever preparations you deem necessary. Departure in two days. You are dismissed, and may the Arden watch over you all.”

As the crowd dispersed, Fordain fought through the throngs to find his friends. He discovered most of them assembled in the antechamber awaiting him.

“Well Lieutenant, how do you feel about our newest task?” questioned the raspy-voiced Elagor, a man slightly older than Fordain with long, ruddy brown locks and a finely cultivated collection of facial hair that marked him as a true man of the wild. A Vildegraad, as the ancient Flamewings had dubbed them.

“After our last foray, this one sounds like a cinch,” said Wavae, the youngest of the circle by nearly a year.

“I’m not so sure,” said his elder brother Béragon, who had dark blond hair and a countenance aged before its time with worry. “If anything, I think we might have it harder this time.”

“For once, I agree with you, brother,” said Ingred, his fair-haired twin. “But we are duty-bound to see it through, no matter what happens.”

“Well spoken, dear sister,” spoke Éogor, the eldest of the siblings, and the one with the lightest hair. “If we have not our duty, then what have we?”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself, Éogor,” replied Fordain at last. “It doesn’t matter how we feel about it as long as we do it, and do it well. At any rate, at least we won’t be alone this time.”

“Aye. What with Commander Alexander at our ‘ead, we can’t lose, I reckon,” said Evander, ever the optimist.

“Where’s Morgan?” asked Ingred of Fordain. “I haven’t seen her since this morning, have you?”

Fordain looked around. “I haven’t actually, though I’m sure she’s around here somewhere. Where’d Lamp and Julius get to?”

“You know them,” said Wavae. “Soon as a session’s done, so are they.”

As they were talking, Morgan herself approached.

“Where have you been?” asked Wavae.

“Lord Elezier wanted to see me for a moment,” replied she.

“What’s wrong, Morgan?” asked Dèscar.

“Apparently I’m to take command of Fourth Section now.”

“Fourth Section? But they’re bound for the coast with Group A, aren’t they?”

Morgan nodded. “They also lost their leader last month, and are in need of an officer to serve in her place.” She turned to Fordain, a tinge of regret in her hazel eyes as she sighed. “I’m sorry, but it looks like I won’t be joining you all this time.”

“Once again, the Fifteenth is split apart, then,” remarked Fordain with equal disappointment.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Well, that’s all right,” said Wavae. “We’ll all be together someday. Then the East will really be sorry, eh brother?”

“If we survive this, I’m sure they will,” replied Béragon.

“Best be off, then! We’ve a long journey ahead, and only a couple of days to get ready.”

Thereafter the young knights returned to their dwellings, where they proceeded to discuss the plan and their roles in it, sup heartily, and try to get one last night of solid sleep before their work began in earnest.