“Head them off!” he yelled to a nearby officer. “I want them captured if possible.”
The officer obeyed, even though an hour ago he would have viewed Myrick as the enemy.
“Myrick what harm can they do now?” I asked. They were resigning and I was inclined to let them go.
“To us, perhaps none. But I am disinclined to allowed hundreds of Garegon’s soldiers to wander the Pozzelbian countryside after having lost not only the battle, but many of their leaders and all of their supplies.”
There was an undeniable logic in his statement.
I left the ordering of the troops to Myrick. I ran to meet Coenbrand. Who was just now walking back from the field of victory. I found Nightshade, Jeremiah, and Theof next to me. And surprisingly, there was Brin as well, blending into the background behind Nightshade.
Coenbrand came forward grinning. It struck me all at once that it was over. The weeks of uncertainty and fear for my life, the lives of those I loved, and my country were at an end. There was a future to think of now. I was crying and hoped the rain would mask my tears. Coenbrand accepted the congratulations of his friends but came to stand in front of me. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked down into my face. I was afraid that I would dissolve as he looked at me. He was my family and I felt a connection, an understanding that existed without words.
“Let’s get out of the rain,” he said. “And maybe something to eat.”
“Yes,” said Theof. “I think a celebration is in order.
Chapter Eighteen
Traditionalists have come out against King Dexter’s policy of ‘Looking forward by looking back,’ and his failure to thus far create a new addition to the royal castle. However, most seem to approve of King Dexter’s dedication to preserving and rediscovering Pozzelbian history—in large part because King Dexter’s policies have led to the largest reduction of taxes since the reign of King Kaman the Frugal.
Excerpted from J. R. Grimble’s, Pozzelby: A History
“Dexter,” Nightshade said before we went inside. “I left Garegon’s priest trapped behind the barracks. I think that we should attend to him before we go inside.”
“I believe that would be my advisor, Callis, to whom you refer,” said Grimwulf. “I would accompany you, if you will allow it.”
“Certainly, cousin. If you feel up to it you are welcome.”
Theof, Coenbrand, and Jeremiah walked with us. Coenbrand probably should have sought medical attention, but insisted that it could wait. There was still some fighting going on as the soldiers moved to contain and capture Garegon’s men, but in such company I could scarcely have been safer.
Behind the barracks a deep, wide hole had been dug. Grimwulf walked to the edge and looked down. He was very still for a moment.
“This is where Callis is?”
“Yes,” said Nightshade as she stepped to the edge. “Oh.”
The hole was filled with several feet of dark water. I could not tell if Callis was there. With a gesture, Nightshade summoned a ball of light that hovered over the fresh hole. She made a downward gesture and the water in the hole began to lower. Callis was there. He had been unable to free himself, and it had been raining so heavily that the hole had filled with water, and Callis had drowned.
At her command, the rock turned back into mud. With a thought, she lifted the corpse out of the hole and set it down next to us. Grimwulf looked down on the body of his advisor.
“I once thought Callis was my closest friend. But now I realize that even at the beginning his loyalty was given to his god. He only desired to use me. Still, I feel some sadness with his death. What is this around his neck? Callis was never given to ornamentation.”
Grimwulf bent down and removed a muddy, leather pouch from around his advisor’s neck. He studied it closely, then shrugged.
“It looks like some sort of charm,” Nightshade offered.
Grimwulf threw it on top of the corpse.
“He can be buried with it. Let’s get out of the rain.”
Forty-five minutes later, we were in my suite. My sitting room was full. There was me, Grimwulf, Coenbrand, Porknoy, a medic working on each of them, Nightshade, Jeremiah, Theof, Francis, Emily, Brin, and Ardbeg and his son. Myrick was overseeing the mop-up effort and Theof’s right hand man, Jalos, was assisting him. The sergeant who had come in with Grimwulf was relaying the truth of things to the various units of the Pozzelbian army—what had happened to Tabor Till and his betrayal. Without exception, they quickly re-pledged their loyalty to me.
Everyone was exhausted. I had water brought up and we took turns cleaning up, while picking at the cold food some of the guardsmen had located.
Coenbrand had removed his armor in my bath and put on one of Ardwulf’s robes—it was too long and the sleeves hung past the ends of Coenbrand’s hands—so the medics could treat his leg. I had half-expected him to disappear like Stone had done upon the completion of the battle, but he was still here, eating cheese and bread on my sofa. And next to him sat Theof. Across the room Nightshade and Jeremiah sat together on a smaller couch.
It struck me; I was in a room with three of the legendary Four Kings of Pozzelby, alive and in the flesh after more than three hundred years!
“Grandfather,” I said. “What now? Are you here for good? If you like, I will gladly give you back the kingdom.”
“No. I cannot stay. I will return to Eridan, but I think that it can wait for a few days—he can be without me for that long. It has been a long time since I have been in this world and I would like to be reacquainted with it. And I would like to become acquainted with you, grandson.”
“And if you don’t mind,” Theof said. “I should like to stay for a while too. I could help you get things cleaned up and maybe get you started with your plans to rediscover the castle. I bet that I could get these two lovebirds to help with that too.” He nodded at Jeremiah and Nightshade.
Myrick came in then, still soaking wet and covered with mud.
“We managed to capture most of Garegon’s soldiers. About thirty of the Red Fang knights managed to escape, but several hundred of his soldiers are being taken to cells as we speak. I also found Doctor Ahem. He was in the command quarters in the barracks. He is dead. Layred Vu tells me that the nobles and residents are all safe. They are being brought up from the old castle now.”
I thanked Myrick. He left again to continue tending to the details of victory.
Brin was asleep on a chair in the corner. I felt just as tired. Quarters were arrange for all of my guests and one by one they left for them. Besides Brin, my mother was the last to go.
“I will be staying too, for a while, if you’ll have me,” she said.
“Yes, I want for you to stay permanently if you can.”
“I still have responsibilities that I will have to attend to on occasion. But with your father gone, my heart is here with you and always will be. I will let you sleep now. I’ll take Brin and put her to bed.”
“Thank you. I could not have done all of this without her, without any of you.”
Emily picked Brin up and carried her easily from my rooms. Alone, I fell into bed. For the first time in weeks, my dreams were pleasant.
****
Of my three noble guests, I am not sure if Earl Horace or the Duchess de Venie was most poorly affected. When the residents and guests were brought back from their hiding place in the old castle, the duchess was in a state of perpetual swooning, as was her eldest daughter. Only the younger daughter was able to maintain her self-possession and thanked me for the escort that I provided back to Albemarle the next day. I made my apologies to her and told her that I hoped that she would visit again when things were settled. Dahlia rewarded me with a slight smile and said that she doubted that her mother would be up to traveling any time soon, but that she would be happy to make the trip if appropriate chaperonage could be arranged.
&nb
sp; Earl Horace seemed unable to look anyone in the eye or speak above a mumble. He left on the third day after the battle ended. Before he set off, also accompanied by a squad of my soldiers, Brin graciously hugged him and gave him a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. He reciprocated with a weak, one-handed embrace, mumbled something inaudible and left.
As for Duke Ardbeg, I felt that I needed to do something to show my gratitude for his loyalty and assistance. On the eve of his departure, I dined with the duke alone in my suite.
“Duke Ardbeg, your support was invaluable to me during all of this. And I don’t just mean your sword.”
“I knew the truth all along. Your father was a good, loyal man and you inherited those traits. I know that you think your father was disappointed in you. The truth was that he never understood you.”
“He was disappointed that I wasn’t a warrior like he was or my brothers would have been.”
“He might have been, but he was wrong to think so. You have a keen mind and interests beyond war and martial prowess, but you have enough courage and heart to match any man alive. Anyone can swing a sword, but no amount of practice can provide the intangible things if they are lacking. You will be much more than a warrior. You will be a great king and I am proud to be your subject and your friend.”
“Ardbeg, there is no one left in my family to look over our county and the province at large. I am granting you Earmund County as well as the title of Duke of Earmund,” I said.
“But Earmund has been the traditional holding of the House of Davin for centuries,” he protested. “I am content with my lot.”
“Pozzelby province is enough for my house. The kingdom comes with it after all. There is no one I trust more to govern Earmund.”
“Very well. I thank you, Sire. I shall keep it well,” Ardbeg said.
Coenbrand stayed with us for a week. He walked the grounds with me and we talked for hours. I confessed that I did not think I had the makings of a great warrior. In this, he proved more human than my father had. He told me that it was less important to be great warrior than it was be a great leader, and in that respect, he said that I was eminently qualified. News of his presence at the castle spread quickly and people came from miles away to catch a glimpse or offer prayers. I thought when they saw that he was basically just a man, it might lessen the legend, but the opposite seemed to be true.
When Coenbrand left there was no fanfare. He bade me and his companions from the old days to walk with him to his old suite. Jeremiah, Theof, and Nightshade, he bade farewell in turn. He had me accompany him to his workout room, the site of the battle where Tabor Till had died. The dead had been removed but there were still traces of the carnage here and there, smears of blood that the cleaning crews had missed.
Coenbrand’s armor had been restored and repaired to its shiny, pristine state. He put a gauntleted hand on my shoulder.
“Grandson,” he said. “I am grateful to have had the opportunity to meet you. You have already undergone more hardship in your few years than most people experience in a lifetime. But you rose to meet it well. You are truly of my blood.”
“So where do you go now? Will I see you again?”
“Eridan’s hall lies outside of this world. But I promise you this, if you find yourself in great need, call on me and I will come.”
With that he went into the shrine, Harbinger in its scabbard at his side. A few moments later, I heard a sound like a high wind. When it died down, I looked into the shrine. Coenbrand was gone, but his statue was back, its position changed. Before it had appeared to be charging into combat, sword arm up but the sword missing. Now, Coenbrand stood at ease and Harbinger was in its sheathe.
It took us two weeks to clean up the castle and return it to its pre-war condition. The process was tremendously speeded up by Nightshade’s help. She was able to repair seriously damaged portions of the castle, such as the Sunrise Tower, in a just a day or two using her magic. Without her, it would have taken months, even years. We also received help from Litford. Earl Olanan arrived three days after the battle had concluded with six hundred men. While he was too late for the fight, he made his men available, helping to scour the countryside for any sign of those knights of Garegon’s who had escaped, and aiding us with the cleanup at the castle.
****
One year later, the trials of the previous summer seemed like a distant dream. There were still painful reminders of the losses that I had endured, but I had gained so much that the losses became easier to bear.
My mother had spent most of the year with me at the castle. We got to know each other well and discovered that we had a great deal in common. We both had a passion for knowledge and scholarly pursuits. We were of similar temperaments; we felt things deeply, but rarely let them to the surface. In this I showed more restraint, I think because of the influence of my father who frowned deeply on any display of emotion. So there were times when Emily would flash her anger, and she was pretty free with her affection, whereas I was more steadily reserved. However, after a year of stability and being surrounded by people whom I had come to think of as my family, I found that I was slowly getting better at expressing my affection as well.
Brin was as much a target for my mother’s affection as me. Emily became a surrogate mother for Brin, who had lost hers so young. And the results had been amazing. Most of Brin’s surliness disappeared. She became more open. But her sarcasm, unique fashion sense, and low opinion of the intelligence of boys remained unchanged. Brin also became my mother’s pupil in the art of witchcraft. And from what I understand she has an excellent mind for it—her mother’s daughter, I’ve heard Emily say more than once. Not long ago, I entered my suite and found Brin standing in my lounge—not unusual. But what was unusual, was that she was covered in bird droppings. It seemed that she had been practicing summoning crows while waiting for me to return and it had gone a little too well.
“But there aren’t any windows here,” I had said.
“No. But there are in your bedroom. You probably don’t want to go in there right now,” she’d replied.
No, I hadn’t; but I’d gone in anyway. It is amazing how much of a mess two score crows can cause in an enclosed area.
Francis was quite happy with the way things turned out. He had arranged for his equipment and belongings to be brought from Earmund Castle and had completed the set-up of his new laboratory in the Gardener’s Tower. We remained as close as ever, even though I was much busier now than I had been before becoming king. Frequently, I took his meals to him in the tower, because when he was engrossed in a project he tended to forget to eat. We still play our games of chess. I think he’s getting better.
I made some changes to the army. I got rid of the separation between the castle guard and the army. Now all of the guardsmen are also part of the Royal Army, though the castle guard remains a special detail. Porknoy replaced Talon as the new Captain of the Guard. He is young, but he proved himself capable of leadership, and his enthusiasm and dedication are invaluable.
I also had to appoint a new high general of the army. On the recommendations of Layred Vu and Myrick, I selected Ellony von Trecht, the only woman among my generals and one of the very few women officers in the army. You see, Pozzelbian women once had a great reputation as fighters, but that notion has become somewhat antiquated and fewer young girls opt for the often difficult life of a soldier. But those that do, almost without exception, are among the best we have. Take Shel Serria, she is a great leader and an even better fighter. After the Twelve-Sect Order incident, I promoted her to lieutenant in recognition of her outstanding service.
As for the new general, Ellony von Trecht is a tall, buxom woman with bright orange hair and a friendly face. She had most recently been commanding the Northern Contingent headquartered in Tillery. I liked her as soon as I saw her. She has had some excellent ideas on improving the communications of the army and increasing bo
rder security through the creation of strategic outposts. I’ve also charged her with modernizing recruitment, promotions, and other facets of the army. I am thinking of constructing a military academy. It is my belief that commissions should be earned, not bought.
Shortly after the battle ended, I met with the goblin chief, Agrog. With my mother translating, I learned that his tribe, Krukt’a toc, which roughly translates as ‘broken femur tribe,’ had been living in the depths of the Mount Crowl and parts of the castle for—well, a long time. The goblin sense of time does not translate well, they measure time by their sleep cycles and longer periods are measured in lifetimes. My mother’s best guess was that they had come into the lower mountain tunnels over a century ago and had arrived via a tunnel that they had dug from the hill that had been their previous home. It seemed that they had been forced out of their old home by either a young dragon or a giant acidic worm—again, something was lost in the translation. Well, whatever had forced them out hadn’t been causing trouble for humans—there had been no reports of dragons that I could recall.
I gave the chief a choice. I told him that I would either find an uninhabited area to which his tribe could relocate. It would take some time, as I would have to confer with the elves and dwarves to make sure that I wasn’t encroaching on their territory. And I would also have to make sure that wherever the goblins moved nothing existed there that would make lunch of them.
The second choice was easier for everyone. Here, I agreed to allow the goblins to remain in a section of the mountain catacombs, but the tribe would be subject to me and would have to demonstrate acceptable conduct. They would be called on to work and in return I would provide them with food and other forms of payment. The Chief agreed to this second option on a trial basis. That was good enough for me. I hoped that it worked out; the goblins could be valuable assets when I was able to start re-opening the old castle.
Another thing that I remembered to do was find someone who could cure Bayden Tern’s disease. I found a doctor in Bagwar’s Run who had made an extensive study of rare disease and treatments. I arranged for him to come to Pozzelby. Under his care, Bayden Tern’s symptoms disappeared within a month. Then I threw a bunch of gold at him and had him stay in Pozzelby for six more months and train our best doctors.