33.

Denrich and Xael meet Somled.

33.

 

A heavy rain began to fall in the night as they slept, but Denrich and Xael were not aware of the storms that crossed Albyia as the arcane train sped along.    Though they lessened in intensity by dawn, the storms continued into the morning.    Just as the servants on the train were beginning to prepare breakfast for the sleeping passengers, abruptly the train slowed down, followed by a quickly cast deceleration spell by the conducting wizard.

In their cabin, Xael and Denrich were violently jolted by the sudden reduction in speed.

“What in the world?”  Xael exclaimed as they hung on to the side of the bed and items around the cabin began to sail off due to the rapid slowing of the train.

“They’re trying to stop the train quickly,”   Denrich replied, his stomach lurching as the whole train began to shake violently.

Then there were shouts and screams from somewhere at the front of the train and the sounds of crashing and breaking of wood, glass and metal.

“Oh no!”   Denrich was able to yell before, with a deadening roar, everything began to tumble, roll and spin around them.

 

***

 

Cold water thrown rudely over his head brought him around, sputtering and coughing, unsure where he was or what had happened.    He tried to sit up, only to find that he could not use his left arm.   It was broken.   As he opened his eyes, someone came and placed their foot against his right wrist, pinning him to the ground.

He was lying on the wet ground inside an erected canvas tent.

“What the hell?” he said, looking up to find a burly group of men wearing woolen cloaks over chainmail and leaning on great axes and two handed swords, glaring at him with a mixture of disgust and suspicion.   He did not recognize any of them, but was certain that they were some of the Highlanders from the northern highland clans.   They were looking at him with such venom that he knew that he had to be very careful what he said.

One of them, a man with graying red hair and a flowing beard, came forward, knelt down beside him and held a long dagger blade against his neck.

“I will warn you only once, so heed my words well.    I expect you to answer truthfully, everything I ask you.   Your life is tied in to what you respond and we have no qualms about killing you.    Do you understand?”

“I understand,” He replied, trying to sound calm though a thousand questions flowed through his mind, he was desperate to know if Xael was alright, as well as what happened.    His broken arm throbbed, but he knew he had to focus on the Highlander’s questions.

“Let us proceed, then,”   The man did not move the dagger away from his throat, as he spoke, “First, who are you and where are you from?”

Denrich’s mind raced, trying to decide the correct course to take.    Who had attacked the train and why?    The fact that they had attacked the train told him that they were certainly none of Bishop Jules’ men, for he wouldn’t want such a valuable resource damaged.  Highlanders were very unlikely to try their hand as bandits, especially this far away from their homeland.   They were here as part of a larger force, and were courageous enough to derail the train.  

An invasion army?   

If that was the case, then they would be very curious who would be riding in the royal train car.   So how should he answer?    He had no time to debate it, but he would not provide more than what was required.

“I’m Denrich, until recently the Sheriff of St. Wemricshire.”

The Highlander didn’t look surprised at his answer which made Denrich wonder if perhaps he already knew all the answers.    If he had hurt Xael…

“Why are you no longer the Sheriff?”   The man asked.

“I was commanded to escort Princess Avalynn to the royal court.”

“So?   That does not answer my question, ‘Sheriff Denrich’.”

Denrich knew he had no choice, for if they questioned any of the servants on the train - or Xael- they’d quickly learn the truth.

“When we arrived at Caelyin, Reverend Mother Julia told King Reddric and his court that I was his b*****d son by an elven woman.   So Reddric decided that I should move to the royal court to be near him.   I was ordered to return to St. Wemricshire to collect my personal things and escort Avalynn to press her claim as the duchess of Baylcothrom. ”

“Why would a Princess now be a duchess?”   The Highlander asked, his dagger blade staying firmly against Denrich’s neck.

Denrich recounted the High King’s annexing of the elven kingdom, though he sensed that somehow the Highlander already knew this news.

“So the woman with you is Avalynn, the elven princess?”   He asked, and Denrich noticed that he seemed to be intently watching him as if this question interested him more than any that he had asked him so far.    

What could he reply?    If he said that she was Avalynn, but somehow he knew that she wasn’t, then it could endanger him as well as Xael.   But if he told the Highlander the truth, he would have to tell him everything that had happened on the train, including the death of Archbishop Hobst.

He had always felt that honesty was best, even when there was danger and risk involved.

“No,”  He said, silently praying as he spoke, “She is not Avalynn; her name is Xael.”

He explained what had happened on the arcane train and the Highlander listened closely.    Denrich thought he might have seen a slight mellowing of his intensity as he listened to the tale.

“Well, you are very wise, ‘Prince Denrich’, to be completely truthful to me, for I knew the answers to all of the questions I asked you, before hand.    Had you lied to me, I would have slit your neck and your fine lady’s neck as well,”   He turned to some of his men and nodded.

The foot was removed from his wrist and several of the Highlanders pulled him to his feet.   The pain in his broken arm was intense, but he managed not to cry out.

A few moments later, the flap of the tent was pulled open and Xael was escorted inside.   She was greatly relieved to see him and raced over to him, embracing him tightly which caused some laughter from the Highlanders.

“Are you alright?”   She asked, noticing one arm hanging limp at his side.

“That arm is broken.   Are you okay?”

“I’m fine; they didn’t hurt me, but they asked a lot of questions.”

“I’m thankful that you didn’t lie to them or we’d both be dead now.”

“Rightfully said,”  The Highlander interjected, “I’ll have some of my healers look at your arm later.    You are probably wondering who I am, aren’t you?    I am Somled, Chief of the Phorx clan.”

“I have heard of you, sir,”  Denrich replied with a bow, “May I ask why you and your men are this far south, stopping the arcane train?”

Somled laughed, “Why, isn’t it obvious, Prince Denrich?   We are invading your father’s kingdom!”

His words sent chills down his spine, for the highland clans had no love for the people of the south.

“Isn’t that a bit risky, sir, especially this late in the year?    Winter isn’t far away and since most of Reddric’s forces are in the southern duchies, baronies and earldoms, you’ll meet more resistance the further south you get.”

“The King’s b*****d giving me strategic advice!”  Somled bellowed and all his men laughed at this.

Denrich shook his head, “Sir, if I am his son, it is certainly not by my choice.    I do not like it at all and desire nothing greater than to return to St. Wemricshire and resume my life as High Sheriff.    But the thought of a war does concern me as many innocent people will suffer and die.   How many died in the wreck of this train?”

Somled turned and pointed his finger at Denrich, his eyes angry, “Don’t think that I will be lectured by you, b*****d prince, on the suffering of people!    Thousands of clansmen and women have bled and died at the hands of your father’s armies.    Women raped, children put to the sword, babies’ heads smashed by axes and maces!    Cruelty is the language that the High King speaks!”

Denrich glared back, his own anger rising, “How well I know that, Highland Chief!   My own mother bled to death bringing me into this world as she hid in St. Catherine’s convent from my ‘father’!   I was concealed for years to protect me from his wrath!   Since I was ‘revealed’ to be his b*****d, I have had plots made against me and people trying to kill me.     I don’t even know if my ‘father’ wants me to live!     I’ve been led around like a bull with a ring through my nose since I got the message to bring Avalynn to the king.    I know of Reddric’s cruelty first hand and I trust him less than even you do!   But who can control who their father is, sir?    Ask anyone in St. Wemricshire and they will tell you that I loved my life there!   I would gladly renounce any blood tie to Reddric forever if I could return there in peace!   But instead, I am his puppet, a cur dog for him to play with and tease until he tires of me and his faithless, perverse teenaged Queen gives birth to a child that is not even his!     My life is ruined, sir, all because of my dear ‘father’, King Reddric!”

Denrich’s voice contained such venom against the High King that it cooled Somled’s anger and he nodded.

“I am an excellent judge of character, Denrich, and I hear hatred and disgust for your father.”

“He is a cruel man, Chief Somled.   He killed his own brother to gain the throne and would have killed his mother if she had not fled, taking my pregnant mother with her.    I may be his son by blood, but my heart lies with the common people - and the repressed elven people of my mother’s side.”

Somled arched his bushy eyebrows, “So you say and it perhaps is the truth, for your voice seems sincere.    But a man in dire straits will speak passionately to keep himself and his loved ones alive.”

“Sir, I certainly don’t want something to happen to Lady Xael and do not relish dying just because my father was a tyrant.”

Somled grinned, “You think we are barbarians, don’t you?   We would kill you for your paternity?    We are coarse men, who live in a harsh environment, but we all remember Yesh’s words; ‘A man is poisoned by wrong decisions but only stained by bad family.’   We do not condemn you for your pedigree, only if you use that pedigree in an evil way.    Now, you mentioned that the child that Reddric’s teen bride carries is not his.   Tell me more about this.”

He led Denrich and Xael over to some portable benches within the tent and gestured for them to be seated.     Together, they told the Highland Chief what they had learned and all about Bishop Jules’ plot.    While they spoke, a man entered the tent and came over to Denrich and began examining his broken arm.

He didn’t pay much attention to the man until he began chanting.    Pausing for a moment, he looked at the chanting man and was surprised to see sharp features and very pointed ears; he was an elven healer.

“Don’t interrupt him or it will mess up his healing spell - there are very few true spell casters left in Albyia.   You seem surprised at his appearance - yes, he is elven.”

The healer finished his chant and a gentle blue glow crept up Denrich’s arm.   It didn’t tingle as he had imagined that it would, instead the spell made it ache a bit more and itch.

“Thank you,”  He told the man in elven and the healer bowed and left the tent.   His arm felt strong and whole again.

“You are anxious to know why elves would be in the horde of Highlanders.    That is a key question, Prince Denrich.”

“Please sir, simply Denrich.”

“Very well, Denrich.     When your fath -excuse me; when King Reddric decided that he wanted Baylcothrom as another duchy, this one free of troublesome elves, many fled northward to the Highlands, hoping to find a refuge.   We gave their women and children shelter, but some of the servants of the royal house told us of the conflict between Princess Avalynn and Princess Kyara.”

“For too long, Denrich, have the highland clans had a lukewarm relationship with our elven neighbors.   Both sides hate Reddric and his hunger to rule the whole island with a cruel iron fist.    So the chief of each clan met together with the leaders of the elven refugees to decide a course of action.”

“Which is to invade?”   Denrich asked.

“To take back some of what once belonged to the elves and the Highlanders.      In the past, our two people coexisted in harmony; it was only when our territories were slowly whittled away from us by the greed of the High Kings that caused us to distrust each other.     Reddric is the worst of the High Kings and the time for action has arrived!   So we are taking back the northern territories and pushing out the garrisons and forces, as well as the colonists that Reddric is trying to settle there.”

Denrich nodded, considering it all, “Reddric’s main strength lies in the southern part of the island, but I suspect he will fiercely contest this, sir.”

Somled grinned somewhat grimly, “We’re expecting that.”

“Actually, this might be the best time to try this - he is waiting for the birth of his ‘son’ who he thinks will be the legitimate heir that he has needed for so long.   So he is preoccupied.    With Archbishop Hobst dead, Bishop Jules will certainly want the Archbishopry.  I could see him trying to use your invasion to his good.    He’ll certainly do his best to take his uncle’s place as Reddric’s advisor.”

Somled seemed pleased that Denrich was so willingly sharing his thoughts on the political situation.

“You seem very willing to assist my cause, Denrich.”

“Reddric needs his wings clipped, sir.     I think a free northern region and an independent Baylchothrom is best, not only for the highland clans and elven people, but also for the rest of Albyia, as it forces them to realize that there are people and races living here other than them.”

“You are talking treason, Denrich; your ‘father’ will not be pleased.”

Denrich shrugged, “I don’t want a war, Chief Somled, but a free northlands and an independent elven kingdom is best for the island.   I’ve spent my entire life in St. Wemricshire, and the peaceful monks that employed me believed in good relations with Baylcothrom and the highlands.    Of course their views were growing less and less popular with the church authorities recently.     The Church of Yesh is corrupted and has left the true teachings of Yesh.     The monks know this and have secretly preserved the original texts of Yesh’s words.   I know they would agree with your cause, though they are committed to peaceful pursuits, so they won’t rise up in arms to assist you.”

Somled shrugged, “We wouldn’t expect them to.   Many of the monks are from the highlands and we have always respected their piety and devotion to the true teachings of Yesh.    So now the question turns to you, Denrich; what should I do about you?   Clearly you are not of Reddric’s mindset and seem happy to advise me, but what happens if I let you go?   Where will you go and what will you do?”

Denrich smiled, “Why not just keep me and Xael as your prisoners?”

Somled’s heavy brows arched in surprise, “What?”

“Let me explain - if Reddric thinks you have captured his ‘son’ and Lady Avalynn - who Xael is impersonating - then you could use us as bargaining tools.     Send him a message saying ‘I have your b*****d son; here is what we are demanding.    I’m sure my worth to him is minuscule, but it would allow me to assist you without him knowing it and maybe I could give you some help.”

Somled laughed, “You are rather devious, Denrich; perhaps you have a bit of Reddric in you after all!    I believe what you are telling me.    But you have spoken for your lady and I would like to hear what she thinks of all these plans, especially since she is also playing a dangerous game impersonating Princess Avalynn.”

“I’m not fond of impersonating someone, though I have had some experience with it,” Xael replied, “But if it would help the elven people to get their kingdom back, I would be willing to keep up my charade if it is necessary.   Avalynn should be safe at St. Catherine’s, but I wonder, Chief Somled, if you have had any contact with her sister, Princess Kyara?    From what I’ve heard, she would be very enthusiastic about your cause.”

Chief Somled nodded, “Though we have not yet been able to contact her, we have some idea where she is.    We hope to intercept her soon.”

“So what are your plans, sir?”   Denrich asked, “Since you have disabled the arcane train, will you continue the southward advance?”

“We have effectively conquered Lithgelm and Poltris, but they are small, thinly populated duchies.    We need Wheachester to serve as a buffer zone, but it is more densely populated and it will be more of a struggle to overrun.    Then - with your help- we’ll meet with the monks that rule St. Wemricshire and see if they will favor our war with Reddric.    Right now my forces are moving into Wheachester, the rain is concealing their advance for now.   We shall stay here and talk some more and wait to see what happens before we make the next move.    I will go and see if I can find a drier place for us to meet, but first I must check on the other survivors from the train.     I commend you, Denrich and Xael, on making wise choices in aligning yourselves with my cause.   It saved your lives.”    Without another word, the burly highland chief bowed to them and hurried out of the tent, leaving the pair to wonder about how their plans had greatly changed.