Chapter II
The Coming Storm
It was a full turning of the moon before news reached them from behind their walls that a large army had crossed from Mead, it had split into three parts, one had turned north to lay siege to the City of Hecata, and one had headed west to harry the local populace. And soon the bells of that most ancient of cities rang out to announce the arrival of the Mandrake Imperium: the army set up camp on the vast plain that lay beneath the plateau that Findolin was set upon. Its size could not be fully judged, it was as though the horizon were covered by a mighty shadow.
Soon enough from below the City walls was heard a trumpet call, signalling a parley was being sought. And so it was that the herald of the Mandrake entered the golden hall to speak to the King. The hall was filled with the smell of flowers; laburnum was in the air, combining tenderly with fragrances of violet and rose. Their softness was a sharp contrast to the Heralds harsh words, which forced themselves up into the midst of all, it was as if they were invasive weeds that choked the air. He stood in the heart of the court; his attendants held aloft the banner of the Mandrake Imperium, a full moon inset was a ravenous wolf.
“You entered the lands of Mead ready to war with them,” said the Herald “They are a protectorate of the Mandrake Imperium. The mighty Lord of the Mandrake, Jin, requires restitution and reparations; the following mandates are to be fulfilled; first your army shall be called into the service of the Imperium. Second your resources such as they are, your quarries of marble, and your mines mainly of copper, nickel, and tin, but also any other possessions that we deem of value are to be distributed throughout the empire, and shall fall under the jurisdiction of the Guild of Merchants of the Empire. Thirdly you are to abdicate in favour of a Governor, chosen by Jin. Fourthly the Mandrake Imperium is to be allowed to annex all border fortifications such as they are. Fifthly, all families shall give up a male member between the ages of thirteen to thirty: they are to be conscripted within the Imperial army for a ten year tour of duty. For the offence you have caused against the Imperium these edicts are to be proclaimed to your people within two days; if they are not complied with, a state of war will exist between us, and all your lands will be forfeit and your people taken into slavery. So says Jin."
The Heralds voice echoed confidently throughout the Great Hall. The King of all the Finns sat in silence, grim faced, a proud mildly aging man, he wore a crown of white gold above his silvered hair, with the Jewel of Suberia at its centre, his armour was of silver, tempered with gold, his sword hung at his side. He stood up on the raised platform of the monarch, to his side was his most trusted adviser Agoran. His icy blue eyes did not betray any emotion as he listened to the Heralds terms.
“Well it has come to this,” said the King to Agoran. “You were right it did not take long for them to cross into our lands with such a pretext of sham legality, and now an army stands at our gates, we are surrounded on all sides by tempered steel, it is said that the Lord of the Mandrake is a witch, a master of the dark arts. You have already told us that he has turned some of our men into Vendigo. Do we resist or do we submit to his rule. Do I abdicate the throne? Remembering that this is not the first foe to come upon us with a dark purpose, so what say you Agoran is it to be War?”
“My King you know well what the Mandrake asks of us. They wish to enslave us all, their machinations are clear, and we've already seen what they do to their enemies, they are without mercy, and now they are at our door, with the Mead and a thousand legions. The Mead were always rogues petty criminals and bandits and now they've found themselves a master with true guile and cunning that matches their own, indeed that even surpasses it. My King they have not come to parley, they have come to conquer and with such a vast army it is not only Findolin they crave but total domination of Suberia. They rule through fear, and fear is their greatest ally, ours is courage. These so called mandates are unacceptable. I would rather die than become part of such an Empire, where dark intrigue and dark sorcery enslave a man. Remember the anthem of the Kingdom, 'No Finn shall ever see his brother a slave, while every Finn is a man born brave, the city of Findolin shall always stand, when defended by freedoms great and courageous hand'."
“You are right,” replied the King.
The King turned and fixed his gaze upon the Herald; their eyes clashing as though both were on fire.
“Take this message back to the Lord of the Mandrake,” said the King. “We have no wish to treat with such as him, faithless deceiver and usurper of Kings to the lands of the Central Kingdoms, who comes with his many legions of vile Marauders and Vendigo, unscrupulous rogues and criminals one and all. Tell your Lord that with our last breath we shall strive against him. His dark magic offends us. My message to you shall be as clear as the summers day, be gone, you poison our lands with your presence. Be gone and take your vermin with you. Be gone and offend us no more!”
The Herald stood a moment shaking his head contemptibly, a sneer etched on his face. No one had dared to speak out so vehemently against the Mandrake before, and had lived. He made to open his mouth, but before any words came out, his mouth shut tight as though it were gripped in a vice, and with a cold malevolent stare he turned and purposefully strode away.
Watching him leave the King turned to his advisors.
“Their plans are no doubt well made, so I believe they will strike soon. We will need to call for aid. Beneath the city is the secret labyrinth, tunnels that lead beyond even the enemies camp, send out riders, let them cross every mountain, every ravine, every glade, forest and river, and let them tell of our desperate need. It is time to honour the memory of our ancestors, who fought and paid a heavy price against many foes to remain free men. So let all the peoples know of our plight, right up to the furthest shores of Suberia that the Finns most terrible hour is upon them, that should the City of Findolin fall to ruin, it would mean the ruin of all.”
The King turned from Agoran to one of his personal guard that had stood stoically at his side, the proud standard high above his head with the crest of an eagle hovering above a crown. He was a tall man caged in an iron mail coat, a sword ready at his side. His dark eyes betrayed nothing but a strong resolve; he would have taken on the Mandrake Imperium on his own if the King had requested it.
“Send for Achil,” said the King. “He is the measure of these desperate times.”
The man drew closer to the King.
“My King,” said the Attendant. “Even if we send out our fastest riders, it would still take weeks to get word to Osgaroth.”
The King thought a moment.
“Then when night comes dispatch our most trusted messenger, the great eagle Krakon,” said the King. “He knows the way to Osgaroth, having sent dispatches to the Dragon People before, and he has not failed us yet, let him send this message, that Achil should make haste to gather all allies to him, for our need is great, War is upon us.”