David Dalglish - A Sliver of Redemption

“We’d prefer all the lords of Mordan,” Bram said. “Where are the rest?”

“They do not know of your arrival,” said Arthur. “We live in dangerous times. There are those in power who would frown on such a meeting, and the fewer here, the better.”

“So be it,” said Antonil. “I do not know what lies you have been told. I do not know what wrongs have been committed by the hand of the priest-king. I left to free one nation, and in return find another enslaved. I have come to free you, all of you. Let the nations of Ker and Mordan unite. Whatever oaths you have made, they were false and forced at the edge of a sword or in the darkness of a dungeon cell. I am your king. Lend me your swords.”

Arthur crossed his arms. His men about him grew quiet, and they stole glances at the angels, afraid of their exotic beauty and strength. No doubt they were pondering what chance they had if their lord rejected his duty and it came to blows.

“When Melorak took rule, he took over a hundred acres of my land,” Arthur said. “Land that had been in my family’s hands since my father was a babe. He went through every coin I had and took what he called a tithe. These things come and go, and all matters are dangerous when new blood takes the throne. But he also sent a priest to my house, and under penalty of death, he must remain. My wife and children bow to that wretched lion idol day and night, and that burns far worse than the loss of coin and soil. I worship neither god, my king, though now I wonder as I see the angels of Ashhur before me. To not have a choice, though…”

He drew his sword and knelt.

“King Antonil, King Bram, I offer you both my allegiance.”

His soldiers beside him immediately followed suit, many with bewildered looks on their faces. A few, though, grinned with an eager light in their eyes, as if they had suddenly become unchained.

“What of the other lords?” Antonil asked, biding Lord Hemman to stand. “Will they do the same?”

“Our time is short,” Arthur said. “I must go and find out. If we join you…can you promise victory? I’ve seen the wrath of your angels, and I saw the power of your elven goddess. But what of men? Can we turn the tide?”

“We will,” said Antonil. “This world will not become the terror Karak wishes it to be.”

“Return to your camps,” Arthur said. “If you would allow, wait for me at the Bloodbrick, and pray to your god that all goes well. If it does…”

“Go with Ashhur’s grace,” Azariah said, clenching his fist to his chest and bowing.

Arthur gave him a look, then chuckled.“Just make sure he doesn’t get forced into my house when this is done, either,” he said before returning to the camp.

When they were gone, the others lingered for a moment, as if hardly believing their fortune.

“Well,” said Sergan. “I think that went well. Great, even. Now let’s get back to camp so I can get some damn sleep.”

“W hy aren’t we moving after them?” Harruq asked the next morning. “Figured we’d want to keep on their heels so they don’t start thinking of another attack.”

“Too close to their heels and they’ll see we’re just a little yapping cub instead of a bear,” Tarlak said, sitting down next to him and handing the half-orc a chunk of bread smothered with butter. “And I couldn’t get much out of Antonil. He’s spending more and more time with that Bram guy. Can’t decide how happy I am about that.”

“Oh no, he’s spending time with a king instead of you. How will you endure?”

Tarlak laughed, loud and open-mouthed despite the chunk of bread he’d just bitten into.

“I’ll mope and cry into Aurelia’s bosom. I think that’ll cheer me up just fine.”

Aurelia smiled at him but held back any normal retort. She’d been subdued since her display at the bridge, but Harruq hoped that she’d be back to her normal self in time. He frowned. Now that he thought about it, she hadn’t been her normal self for a while. Something was off, but what?

“Just wish we could get back on the move,” Harruq said.

“You’re never happy, you know that Harruq?” said Tarlak. “If we’re chasing armies, you grumble about the travel and your back hurting and how the angels like smacking you into trees, yet if we decide to take a single day’s rest, you’re at it again.”

“Don’t make me stab you,” the half-orc muttered.

Tarlak feigned fear, then took another giant bite.

“You know,” he said, staring north. “Maybe it’s me, but that looks like a big army coming our way.”

Harruq stood and squinted. “Huh. I think you’re right.”

Aurelia lifted an eyebrow. “Should we be worried?”

“Something’s up,” Tarlak said, staring off toward the front of the camp. “I see Antonil and his little buddies gathering up, but they sure don’t look ready to fight.”

“Then what’s going on?” asked Harruq.

Tarlak shot him a grin. “Well, let’s find out, shall we?”

A few words of magic and a portal opened before them. Tarlak beckoned them in, then followed after. When they stepped out, they stood beside Antonil and a rather surprised looking Bram.

“I don’t recall inviting you three to join us,” Bram said.

“That’s how they are,” Antonil said, adjusting the crown on his head. “They’re more useful disobedient, anyway. I’d probably be dead twice over if they bothered to listen to orders.”

Bram snorted, his mouth locked in a frown. Harruq grinned at him and offered a salute.

“Just here to protect his royal ass,” he said. “Don’t mind me.”

“So what’s going on?” Tarlak asked, sliding between Antonil and Bram while the half-orc kept his attention the other way. “Did we miss out on some fun?”

“You might say that,” Antonil said. “You can listen, but remain quiet and behave.”

Harruq surveyed the approaching army. They marched with their heads low, their backs slumped as if their shields and weapons weighed more than them. A few banners flew from spears and poles, but not many. His quick estimate, though, was massive. Thousands of men, come not to fight, but to…what?

“This is the reward for your bravery,” Bram said. “This is your rightful respect as king. Do not just expect obedience. Demand it. When they bow before you, do not heap praises upon them. They have done their duty. Their reward is their renewed honor in the eyes of their lord.”

“Surely the right path to be a beloved king,” Tarlak muttered.

“Says the honorless mercenary,” said Bram. “Do not pretend that you know how to rule. You control a pitiful few with coin. Nothing compares to being law and judgment for thousands.”

“Enough,” said Antonil. “They approach, and I don’t want them to see my friends squabbling amongst themselves.”

“Let them come to you,” said Bram. “Make them remember their place.”

Four men rode at the front of the great river of troops, dressed in exquisite armor no doubt handed down their family line for generations. Beside each of them rode a younger man wielding a banner. The colors and symbols meant nothing to Harruq, but he knew a lord when he saw one. They rode up to Antonil and then dismounted.

“Lord Hemman,” Antonil said, nodding his head slightly. “I am pleased to meet you again, this time in light of day.”

One of the men stepped closer and bowed. He was tall, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and firm.

“Only a few tried to stop us, and they backed away when we drew blood,” said Hemman. “We have come to offer our allegiance to the rightful king of Mordan. Antonil Copernus, will you accept my sword?”

He drew his sword, knelt, and offered it up. Antonil smiled.

“Of course,” he said, saluting with his own.