Chapter 7

Jacob sat in the middle of a giant padded couch staring at the high-vaulted ceiling above him, dressed in his finest clothes. From what he could figure, he had been sitting there for the better part of an hour and he was growing quite bored with the place. He had figured that since it was the entry chamber to the room in which the lords of the Kyrithian Federation met it was bound to be interesting. Unfortunately he had found himself rather disappointed.

The room was large, to say the least, but surprisingly empty. A series of rugs covered the floor, dazzling in their brilliant patterns and beautiful colors. The walls, made from some strange white stone, were similarly draped with massive tapestries. Unlike the ones he had seen in the house he had illegally entered, however, these held no famous scenes of battle or the like. They had patterns and colors which complemented the rugs but where otherwise unremarkable, according to Jacob. There was a small gallery composed of ancient suits of armor which ran down one of the walls and he had occupied himself for a while looking them over. The only one that really interested him, however, was an odd looking suit that was mainly green with gold trim. It looked ornamental, at best, yet it held scratches and dents that spoke of battle. The plaque upon the base of the armor stand read, “Lord Diatar of Helmfrost,” and Jacob had absolutely no idea who that was.

He looked up and down the large chamber, wondering where everybody was. When the lords weren’t meeting in Haden Hill, the building acted as a sort of town hall, where people of the city came to pay their taxes, file market quotas, and do other mundane activities. It was middle of the week and the building was eerily empty.

Sighing, he stood and walked over to the armor again. He looked over the old green armor, trying to envision the battles that it had been in. He pictured Lord Diatar of Helmfrost riding upon a massive green dragon, his armor and the dragon’s eyes and teeth shining in the noonday sun. The lord had obviously been a tall man, but he would have been almost unnoticeable upon the back of the mighty dragon. According to a few of the books Jacob had read about the subject, the average dragon had been seventy feet in length. He didn’t really understand what a man could do from the back of a dragon but he didn’t doubt that riding one was rather exhilarating all the same.

“Jacob!” The scream pierced the silent and resounded through the empty vault.

With a start, Jacob lost his balance and stumbled into the shoulder of the armor. It wavered back and forth for a moment before, to Jacob’s horror, the armor came crashing down upon the floor. The pieces fell away from the wooden frame holding them together and went sliding and rolling across the floor.

“By Elihu’s Beard, why did you yell?!” Jacob stammered forth.

“It’s a surprise the building is still standing,” Noreen said, calmly walking toward Jacob and shaking her head. “You’ve no respect for anything. Clean that mess up this instant.”

“No respect? You’re the one that startled me.”

“Then you need to be more observant. Now here, where does this go?” she said, bending over and picking up the left gauntlet.

“Are you serious? Where do you think it goes?” With a huff, Noreen tossed it toward Jacob and walked over to the couch. Glaring at the woman, Jacob went about the arduous task of propping the armor stand back up and resembling the thing. He was surprised by how much some of the pieces weighed and decided that it would be a pain to wear such a thing around all day long, let alone fight in it.

“I’ve got us a carriage for this afternoon. We’ll be picked up at the inn in about two hours and we’ll ride to the keep from there.”

“But the keep is just right around the corner. Why can’t we just go over there and wait for the wedding?”

Noreen rolled her eyes and looked at him as if he was a complete dullard. “This is a royal affair and one of the most important things to happen to your family in generations. After today your family will have ties to the Faryden line.” She said the name with such passion that he imagined she wished it was her getting married.

“I don’t know of anything a Faryden ever did for Penrith Harbor, though. I’ve never even seen a Faryden; I don’t understand why they’re so popular.” Perhaps he spoke out of jealousy, he suddenly thought. He had been in Haden Hill for a week and a half and whenever he mentioned to anyone why he was there, they would inevitably launch into a grand monolog praising Michael Faryden and his family for their impeccable leadership and foresight. He didn’t live in the city and most had never even seen him but he was loved even still.

“I know your father has explained this to you before.”

“Yes he has and I’d rather not hear it again.” He yawned and he stepped back to admire his handwork. From where he stood he couldn’t tell that the armor had ever been touched. “So how long will this wedding take? An hour or two?”

“Well, the actual ceremony should only last an hour and a half or so, yes. But we’ll be required to attend the worship ceremony before and the feast afterward. It’ll probably last long into the night if I had to guess at a length.”

Jacob did his best to make his sigh as audible as possible. He had forgotten about the worship ceremony that would come beforehand, but that should only last ten to fifteen minutes at most. He hadn’t counted on the feast, however. In Penrith Harbor they usually had a party but it wasn’t required. He was quickly growing tired of “the duty of his station,” as his father had put it. The only consolation was that Aidan was being permitted to attend.

For almost their entire time in the city, Aidan had stayed within the suite or at least within the inn. He had grown quiet after Highwood, which for him meant that he pretty much didn’t speak at all. Jacob had tried to engage him in conversation but it never seemed to work for long. He hoped that perhaps the ceremonies and feast would help to lighten the man’s spirits.

“Well, now that you’re all done I suggest we get back to the inn. Come along.”

Jacob was amazed at how Noreen continued to treat him like a child, despite the fact that he would be turning twenty in a few days. But he supposed it was because she had helped raise him since his mother’s death all those long years ago. He surveyed the armor once more to make sure nothing was amiss and then jogged down the room to catch up.

They arrived back at the suite a half-hour later to find Aidan quietly sitting by an open window, reading a book. Noreen said that she had to get ready and disappeared into her room.

“Didn’t she just get ready a few hours ago?” Jacob asked Aidan.

“Never question a woman’s right to prepare as many times as she’d like,” Aidan responded.

Jacob awkwardly stood there for a few moments, not knowing what to say and not wishing to sit and wrinkle his clothes. He knew Noreen would throw a fit over that. Casually, he walked over to the window and glanced out over the district.

“So, what are you reading?”

“The Dragon’s Sorrow and Other Tales.”

“Never heard of that one. What’s it about?”

Aidan paused for a moment and glanced at Jacob as if he had just realized that Jacob had actually tricked him into talking.

“It speaks of the wounding and death of Akorius the Dragon King. It has other stories set during the Burning Years and some right before the formation of the Old Empire. It’s a good book.”

“Sounds like it. Sounds like something Guy Longtongue would write.”

“It was dictated by Yonrhy. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

“He was a dragon! Wow. There aren’t many books written by dragons still around. Where did you get it?”

“The Court library. They have a large selection.”

Try as he might, Jacob couldn’t think of anything else to say and it didn’t look like Aidan was going to take over the conversation. With a nod, Jacob slowly paced back and forth for a while before going to his room. He wasn’t about to stand around for an hour and a half, regardless of what Noreen said, so he plopped down onto his bed. He yawned and tried to think of some way to skip the required feast after the wedding. Slowly, though, his mind began to dull and he found himself drifting off to sleep.

He abruptly awoke just in time to avoid slamming directly into the floor, throwing his arms forward to break his fall.

“What are you doing sleeping on a day like this? The carriage is here, let’s go.” Noreen stomped out of the room leaving Jacob there to try and figure out what had just happened. A few minutes later, he walked out of the front of the inn and looked around for the others. For a moment he thought that they had left him; which was fine by him. He finally saw Aidan, who had managed to slip into some fancy clothes, and jogged over to them.

“You look a mess, boy. Straighten your collar and coat. My goodness, they’ll think we’re from some backwater.”

“Umm…we are sort of from a backwater.”

“That’s beside the point.”

Jacob gave a quizzical look to Aidan, who simply shrugged and got into the carriage. To his knowledge, Jacob had never ridden in a carriage before and he was quickly realized why. Though the temperature outside was pleasant, perhaps even a bit cool, the inside of the carriage managed to feel like a furnace. The science behind how that was possible eluded him, but Jacob knew that he wanted to be free of the thing as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, that wasn’t quite the case.

About a thousand yards from where the carriages were releasing the lords and ladies, Jacob’s carriage came to a halt. Sticking his head out the window, with horror he saw a giant line of carriages and buggies. He decided that he wasn’t going to wait around for that.

“I’m getting out, this is ridiculous.” Jacob stood and made a move for the door.

“I don’t think so, mister,” Noreen said, grabbing the tail of his coat. “You’ll be staying right here. How do you think it would look if a relative of the bride went walking up to the keep? Do you not care about your father at all?”

“Leave my dad out of this, Noreen. Aidan, what do you think? Let’s just walk.”

Aidan didn’t seem to like being put on the spot without warning, but he recovered quickly. “If we walked up we would be able to mingle with more lords and ladies otherwise.”

Jacob had to hand it to Aidan; it seemed the man knew how to play Noreen like a fiddle. Her eyes lit up and she started shaking her head. Without waiting to see if she’d change her mind, Jacob quickly jumped out of the carriage and started for the main gate of the keep. A moment later he heard Noreen fussing behind him, so he slowed to allow them to catch up.

“You see, this is a good idea.”

“We’ll see. I just hope they let us in.”

A few minutes later, Jacob and the others walked up to the entranceway.

“Your name, please.” The man attending the door had watched them walk up and seemed to look down upon them.

“I am Jacob Gerhard and this is my maid and my manservant.” Noreen subtly nodded her head at him, indicating that he had spoke properly; just like she had told him.

“Of course you are.” The man made a show of looking over the list. “And where are you from, again, my lord?”

“Penrith Harbor. Is there a problem?”

“Of course not. I’ll just need to go check with his Lord Lady before I can…”

“Listen here, sir. It took me over a week to get here from home and we traveled hard in order to see my lady cousin wed to his Lord Faryden. I would hate to have to tell dear Christine that we were held up at the gate by someone who didn’t know his place.”

The man appeared physically shaken by the retort. After a moment, he bowed low and waved his hand past the gate.

“Please enter. My apologies, my lord. I wasn’t aware…”

“Thank you, sir.” After they had passed through the gate and were walking up the steps to the keep, Jacob looked back to Noreen. “See, I can act the lord if I wish.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t get us thrown out of the city.” She shook here head and Aidan chuckled as the group entered the keep.

Sometime in the past, someone had decided to attach a temple to the front of the keep. It was thought that King Miccael the Pious had the structure commissioned so that everyone who entered the keep would first be able to cleanse themselves of their transgressions. From a practical standpoint, Jacob thought it was a great idea if you planned to have a large sum of weddings. It considerably shortened the travel distance for the guests.

Even though it was small when compared to Haden Hill’s actual Temple, the structure was still more elaborate in its decorations than the one found in Penrith Harbor. It was built in the old style with grand columns reaching well over thirty feet above the guests, holding a massive vaulted ceiling in place. Six banners each hung on the two walls leading toward the front of the temple, recognizing the Twelve Saints. Upon the far wall, standing tall behind the podium, were two large statues of the Father and the Mother. They flanked the door leading into the keep proper and were imposing in their majesty. Above the door, a wood carving of the Creator’s face hung. Because it was nearing winter, the face was presented as belonging to an old man. Jacob imagined that one became more religious just by walking through that door.

From what he could see, Michael Faryden and Christine Gerhard were already sitting up on the front row of the pews. They were being swarmed by lords and ladies wishing luck and giving their congratulations. Exhaling sharply, Jacob almost felt sorry for them. Surveying the area around him, he spotted an empty pew on the last row. He made a move to sit down on it but Noreen grabbed his arm. She didn’t say anything; she just shook her head and pointed up to where Aidan had already sat down. It wasn’t empty but it wasn’t full of people so Jacob acquiesced. They were sitting down just as the chief priest stood and began his speech.

“Welcome my lords and ladies to this most joyous of occasions. We are here today to give thanks for the joining of these two young persons, whom have decided to become one through holy matrimony.” The priest ruffled through a few sheets of papers and cleared his throat before continuing.

“On this day, it is good for us to recall the foundation of our faith and why it is that marriage is such an important step in our life’s journey. Long ago, in the beginning of all days, the Creator Tynia brought the world into being. He called forth the land and sang the ocean into being. With a wave of His mighty hand, He covered the land in grass and trees and with another, all manner of animal began to walk, crawl, and hop upon the land. For a week, however, He worked and toiled in creating stewards to care for his creation. He created the Mak’ra, who were given control over the land and told to care for it, and the Dragons, who were charged with protecting the land.

“With His creation in place and secure, Tynia began His great work. For an entire year, he meticulously formed into being Elihu and Dareia, the Father and the Mother. They were placed upon the world where they soon fell in love. Their joining brought into being the race of Man. When the time for their passing came, Tynia, who was well pleased, carried them up to the heavens and made them deities beside Him.

“And so we beseech you, Father, we call to you, Mother, and ask that you be with Michael Faryden and Christine Gerhard and aid them in their journey as they strive to become one and to become closer to you. Amen.”

Those gathered responded in unison with a hearty amen. Without any further word, the people began to rise and talk as they slowly made their way toward the keep entrance. Jacob was mildly surprised at the length, as he had been expecting something a little longer. Apparently, he decided, they didn’t like wasting time here in the big cities. He, Noreen, and Aidan waited for a few moments for the aisle to clear before standing. Noreen was blatantly ogling some of the ladies in attendance and seemed to constantly smooth her dress.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jacob asked Aidan.

“She’s just worried about her appearance. Women get excited about that sort of thing.”

Jacob shrugged and continued on. He pretended to study the statues of the Mother and Father as they shuffled forward in order to avoid direct eye contact with others. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to be chatting it up with lords and ladies. He suddenly chuckled at the thought of all of these lords and ladies. They took noble titles and they played their noble games and yet there wasn’t a nation to which they belonged or a single king to which they bowed. It was almost as if the Old Empire had ended but the nobility had decided not to notice.

The crowd slowly moved into the main hall of the keep, which was starkly different from the temple. Everything about the structure spoke of strength and age. Even there in the main hall, murder holes looked down upon the entrances and the staircase leading up to the second floor was narrow and split into two staircases halfway up. Jacob assumed that made it easier to hold the staircases in case of a siege. The High Hall, which was attached to the side of the keep in much the same way as the temple, looked markedly different from the others, as well. It looked as if the entire room was made from one large rock. The ceiling was over fifty feet high and had a clear span of over a hundred feet, yet there wasn’t a support column to be seen. The windows were tall and narrow, letting in long shafts of light that crisscrossed the floor.

Jacob had a lot of time to admire the room because the crowd bottlenecked a few yards in from the door. Peeking around people, he realized that the bride and groom were individually greeting every person that entered. He rolled his eyes and glanced back behind him. There were easily five hundred people back there; it was going to take an hour to say hello to all of them. He just felt lucky that he was close to being through.

Ten minutes later, he finally found himself at the front of the line. Straightening quickly, he looked up at Michael Gerhard.

“My lord, let me extend my lord father’s…” His words trailed off as he looked at the man’s face. It was long and tanned and framed by dark hair. His face was a study on surprise. Suddenly Jacob found his voice. “You! You’re the one marrying my cousin? The drunk?!”

“My lord…uh…” Michael seemed to be at a complete loss.

“Michael, what’s this young man speaking of?” Christine asked.

Both Jacob and Michael, however, simply stood there staring at each other. Noreen luckily stepped in to continue the proceedings.

“My lady, this is Jacob Gerhard. He is the son of your father’s brother.”

“Jacob! My father was sure that you’d come. I haven’t seen you since you were only a small babe. How are you?” Her voice was high and she seemed to have a habit of squeaking the last word of each sentence.

Jacob quickly shook his head and looked to Christine. “I am fine, my lady. It’s an honor to be invited. My lord father offers his congratulations and asks that you forgive his absence.”

“Of course, Jacob. We heard of what happened to your father only recently. I hope that he will be well soon.”

“Yes…I’m sure he will be…” It was as if he was living in a dream world. The man who had nagged him in the bar, the man who tricked him into breaking into someone’s house, was the great Michael Faryden. And in a few minutes he would also be a relative. It was more than he could wrap his mind around. It seemed, however, that Michael had recomposed himself.

“Sir, I’m glad that you are able to be here. I…uh, believe we have some things to discuss after the ceremony if you don’t mind.”

“Yes, I think we do.” Jacob’s tone was bordering on anger. He didn’t want to make a scene however – as his father would absolutely hate that – so he quickly excused himself and made his way to a seat. A moment later Aidan and Noreen sat down beside him.

“What was that?” Noreen tried to ask as quietly as possible. “Why are you mad at Michael Faryden?”

“He’s the bloody drunk I was telling you about! They one who-”

“Now’s not the place, Jacob,” said Aidan in his ever-calm tone. “Try and keep your voice down. You will talk with him at the feast, I’m sure.”

Jacob nodded, trying his best to calm down. He had thought about the night they had entered that fat man’s house a lot sense the episode. For an entire day, he had been too afraid to leave the inn. He was sure that at any moment some of the town watch would walk into his room and drag him off to prison. He also thought about how close he was to getting his head mashed in by that guy’s club. He had never really been attacked by someone wishing to do him harm before and it wasn’t an experience he ever wished to repeat.

His mind was reeling by the time the ceremony got underway. He was only moderately paying attention, though he recalled having to stand at least once when the bride’s family was being recognized. The traditional songs were sung and the traditional prayers were given. The Father was asked to be with Michael and help him to be a good husband. The Mother was asked to be with Christine and help her to be a good wife. As the thing continued, Jacob was surprised to find how similar it was to the weddings they had in Penrith Harbor. The ceremony finished with Michael and Christine drinking from the same glass. There was a lot of clapping and cheering as the happy couple left the room. The priest then stood and told everyone to proceed to the Eastern Hall, where they would be fed.

When Jacob and the others finally entered the Eastern Hall, however, he finally found something that was different from home. The hall was ringed with tables, the farthest of which were upon a raised dais so that they could be seen from everywhere within the room. The smells of a thousand different foods wafted through the air and easily fifty smoking, well-cooked turkeys sat cooked upon the tables, as well as large bowls of some sort of soup. When he asked, Jacob was told that this was only to get things started; they were expecting about thirty courses in all. He was utterly amazed.

Once everyone was settled into place, Michael gave a small speech and the feasting commenced. Michael and Christine danced for everyone while a full band played in the corner. They following dance, Jacob asked a beautiful young woman – on Noreen’s request – and they danced for a few songs. Then he finally bumped into Michael again. He didn’t look happy to see Jacob.

“Hello again, Jacob. What did you think of the ceremony?” Apparently small talk wasn’t the Faryden’s strong point.

“It was like all the other weddings I’ve ever been to. Now,” Jacob said, looking around to see who was within earshot. “What were you doing drunk in some second-rate tavern? Aren’t you the holy Michael Faryden?”

It was also apparent that Michael wasn’t used to being insulted and he was taken aback. “I was simply sampling my city’s numerous watering holes. It’s a good way to get a look at the community’s economy.”

“Right. You gain valuable economic information by getting hammered and wandering around the city in the middle of the night.”

“And what were you doing in there, huh?”

“Getting a drink. I’m just the son of a lord, though. I don’t even run one town, let alone two. And I’m not praised by thousands of people who have never met me, so let’s not try to turn this around.”

“Are you calling my character into question, sir?”

“I don’t think there’s any question about it, sir.”

They stood there for a moment, glaring at one another. They were starting to get odd looks from those walking past but they seemed not to notice.

“How old are you, anyway?” asked Michael.

“Twenty, give or take a few days,” Jacob responded. “And you?”

“I’m twenty-three, thank you.” Jacob started laughing at that. “What?”

“You’re only twenty-three? How, then, are you the Savior-Of-All Faryden? Why do these people even like a drunk like you so much?”

“Because I’ve been running Constagra and Haden Hill since I was fifteen! Because, when my father died, I pulled these places out of the dirt and gave them hope again; something my father never could.” He was breathing heavily and his face had turned a deeper shade of red. His volume had also increased and there were now a few people openly watching. Jacob didn’t care, though.

“Then explain the house.”

“I…ugh. To be honest…I thought it would be fun.” He rolled his eyes, realizing how stupid it sounded when he was sober.

“Fun? Have you ever been hit upside the head by a large metal club? No, I don’t think that you have. It isn’t fun, Michael. Let’s just get that clear: it isn’t fun at all.”

They stood staring at one another for a few more minutes, neither of them speaking. Suddenly Michael’s lips cracked into a smile and he slowly started to chuckle. Despite his best efforts, Jacob also started smiling. Within a minute, they were both laughing as though they had heard the funniest joke in the world.

“Jacob, I’m sorry. But you should have seen the look on your face…”

“Yeah, well I don’t know how you saw it; you sprinted out of there pretty fast.”

“Heh. That’s true. But then, I didn’t want to get hit by that fat guy’s club.” Shaking his head, Michael looked up at the window. “Will you look at that? It’s already dark outside. I should probably spend some time with my wife before they bed us. I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

Jacob also shook his head. “Whatever you say. Oh and congratulations.”

As Michael walked away, Jacob returned to Aidan.

“Where’s Noreen?”

“Off flirting with some lord, no doubt.” He nodded his head in the direction of Michael. “And how did that go?”

“It’s alright. He’s an okay guy. Actually…” Jacob stopped as he cocked his head. Seemingly off in the distance, he thought he heard a low thumping noise. “Do you hear that?”

Sections of the roof suddenly exploded downward, walls started crumbling inward, people started screaming and Aidan didn’t have time to answer.

Chapter 6

Captain Harwin Marshall was thoroughly miserable. He and his company had been marching through the Ancient Forest for almost a week and hadn’t seen any sign of the men which they pursued.

Approximately a week before, Harwin and his men had been stationed at a small crossing north of the Fork. From there they had been making quick striking raids into the western territories in hopes of clearing the area in time for the full-scale invasion. His company wasn’t a group of seasoned veterans but they had been involved in the siege of Qam and had participated in field operations with the main Paredes Army. Harwin was proud of his men and desired to prove their worth to the Great Lord.

That is why he had become so upset when a small group of Ancient Men had crossed the river and counter-attacked in the middle of the night. They had caught Harwin and his men completely by surprise and had managed to kill quite a few with their demonically accurate arrow fire. Before he was able to rally his men and attack, however, they had simply faded away into the night.

The Ancient Men were a strange people as far as Harwin was concerned. They were the descendants of the people of the Ancient States; city-states dating to before the Old Empire. They had remained half-savage and never managed to civilize themselves enough to form a coherent nation. Instead, some remained nomadic while others strived to survive from meager farms and domesticated animals. From Harwin’s point of view, they were a barbaric people that had only one thing in common: their ability to make war.

They were exceptionally skilled in the art of combat and it is theorized by historians that if they had ever united under one banner, they could have conquered the entire known world. Instead they chose to live in their mountains, forests, and plains and constantly irritate the Kyrithian kingdom, which attempted to treat them with respect. During the Great War, the Ancient Men had been easily the most skilled combatants on the field of battle and had managed to tip the scales in the favor of Men on multiple occasions. When the Old Empire had been formed, the Ancient States were welcomed into it as partners but were permitted to maintain individual control over their territories. It was probably the only thing that saved the people in the years to come.

When the Dragon Lords began to fight amongst themselves and the Wars of the Dragons decimated the lands, the Ancient States quickly reverted back to their old ways and made war as best they could. They were easily the least effected by the fighting and many of their permanent cities were left untouched. Since then, the Ancient States, as they have taken to calling themselves once more, have attempted to stay free and independent, refusing to join the Kyrithian Federation or listen to Paredes’ bids for consolidation. While the majority of the people in the Kyrithian province respected the Ancient Men, Aton Paredes had made it quite clear that he aimed to completely annihilate the people, in order to purge their “heathen religion” from the world.

Though Harwin considered them savages, he had to respect their prowess and admitted that he had no intention of fighting Ancient Men if he could help it. Unfortunately, the morning after the attack, he was ordered to take his company across the Watchguard in pursuit. His men’s blood was still pumping and they were all rather eager as they crossed the river and started marching northwest toward the Ancient Forest. In truth, they weren’t following the raiding party, for it was impossible to track due to its low numbers. Instead, Harwin had decided to find a village in the forest somewhere and put it to the torch in retaliation.

Unfortunately, the eagerness of his men didn’t hold as three straight days were spent with heavy rains falling upon them. Near the end of the third day, Harwin decided to make camp on the outskirts of the abandoned city of Eton. His men, being rather superstitious, had begged to continue on but Harwin was firm and so they had occupied two buildings they found which still had roofs.

Eton had been the shining capital of the Old Empire, easily the largest and most beautiful city in the entire known world. Crafted with the old magics of dragons and men, its strength and durability was unmatched. Over seven million people had called Eton their home during the height of the Old Empire’s reign. The rebellious Dragon Lords, however, brought terror down upon the city and the Wars of the Dragons marked its end. Millions died in the fires and fighting trapped within the city walls. Only a few thousand managed to escape down the Watchguard River, leaving everything they had behind. The city became a shell of its former self, broken yet retaining an eerie beauty even still. Some had attempted to resettle the city. But then the Gaileon returned.

During the Great War, the Gaileon had been the crack soldiers of the Gyr’ra. Supposedly, thousands of years ago the Gyr’ra had subjugated the Gaileon beasts to use in their wars. What the monsters lacked in numbers they more than made up for in their destructive capacity. They stood anywhere from six to seven feet tall and were generally similar to humans in build. Their arms hung down to their knees and were twice as thick as a man’s. They had no neck to speak of and their face was surprisingly flat, with no apparent nose, a thin line for a mouth and two large, solid red eyes. From its shoulders sprung giant wings, similar to those of bats and dragons, which they used for short flights. Their entire bodies were black as night, though they usually wore a tanned leather loincloth. While they generally used their fists and claws for fighting, they were known to carry three spears which they threw down on their enemies before landing to engage.

The Gaileon had been a terror upon the armies of Man and had even been a thorn in the side of the dragons because of their ability to fly. It wasn’t until the advent of the Dragon Lords that the Gaileon were able to be driven back into the mountains, where they had fled after the war. They were completely unseen throughout the entirety of the Old Empire, most likely because they feared the wrath of the Dragon Lords. However, when the Empire crumbled, the dragons died out and the Lords disappeared, they moved down out of the mountains once more. They came into Eton and lived amongst the ruins and the dead. A few armies attempted to capture the city from the monsters but they all vanished. Ever since then, all had made an effort to stay clear of the place. The Gaileon were rarely seen but constantly feared. That’s why there was little surprise when ten of Harwin’s men came up missing.

The men had been out on patrol during the night and had simply vanished, horse and all. Despite the fact that the men were friends, Harwin and the others didn’t take much time to look for them. Instead, they had quickly mounted up and moved off. They had been riding somewhat hard since then, wishing to fight the Ancient Men over the creatures that haunted Eton.

Harwin turned and look back at his men who were strung out along the narrow forest path behind him. The woods were dense and dark, which none of the men liked, and the path, which had originally been a wide highway, had slowly closed in and become little more than a glorified footpath. Harwin’s scouts were confident that the road widened again a few miles ahead, for which he was grateful. He didn’t like to show it, but he had a fear of close space and he wasn’t at all comfortable within the forest.

His men were tired and were quickly losing their drive to bring revenge upon the Ancient Men. Some had openly said that they were turning around if they didn’t find something soon. Harwin was also a little tense about the situation. It was odd that they hadn’t seen a single living soul since they had crossed the Watchguard a week before. They had seen the occasional village but they were always deserted and he didn’t see any point in burning empty houses.

He also bemoaned the small road they found themselves on. He had almost a hundred men on horseback. It was a powerful group if brought to bear in the open field. Riding two abreast through the woods, however, rendered them almost completely useless. He didn’t like their vulnerability and so had a higher than average number of scouts out around the main group.

A loud popping sound suddenly issued from the right flank and Harwin’s sword was in his hand in a flash. The other men reacted just as swiftly as they turned toward the noise. Harwin’s heart was beating rather quickly when a scout rode through the trees up toward him.

“Bolton, what was that?”

“It was nothing, sir. A tree struck by lightning during the storm a few days ago finally broke. I thought I should let you know before knights went riding through the woods after it.” He gave Harwin a toothy smile.

“Very well. Return to your post.” Bolton nodded and rode back into the trees, vanishing in the leaves. “Stand down, men. It was simply a falling tree.”

His men grumbled to one another and sheathed their blades, looking thoroughly relieved. Harwin held on to his, however, as he turned his horse and signaled for the company to continue forward.

About fifteen minutes later, Harwin glanced down to a small hourglass hanging from his saddle. As the last grains of sand trickled down, he looked about the woods. The scouts were due in to report. A few moments passed and none returned. His eyes narrowed and his heart began to flutter once more. He signaled back to his men and the all silently drew their blades. There was something there, Harwin was sure of it.

With barely a sound, small round balls began falling all through the company from the thick tree branches above. They were about the size of an apple and wrapped in a rough spun weave of hemp rope. A short rope stump stuck out from the top of each, silently smoldering away with surprising speed. Harwin screamed just as the wicks burnt down into the spheres.

A hundred miniature explosions ripped through the ranks, killing horses and men and scaring the rest. Small iron pellets tore through men and beast, soldiers were thrown from their horses and trampled but a few managed to stay mounted. Harwin was thrown from his horse to land face first in the dirt of the road. Rolling onto his back, he propped himself up and yelled to his men to come together.

More, smaller bangs sounded from the trees above and more men began to scream and die. Small holes opened up in men’s chests, backs, and helmets with blood pouring forth while more conventional arrows rained down, as well. A few men attempted to stand and fight but were quickly shot down. Harwin’s mind was reeling, trying to figure out how they had managed to get cannon into the trees as he stood and beheld the carnage that had fallen upon his men. Suddenly a man emerged from the nearby underbrush and walked confidently toward Harwin, casually stepping over the dead and dying bodies of Harwin’s men.

He was a tall man, bordering on seven feet. He had the darker, tanned skin of the Ancient Men, as well as long black hair bundled in a loose tail that ran down to the middle of his back. He wore a dark red leather vest adorned with beads, stones, and shells. It hung unbuttoned from his shoulders with nothing beneath. He wore rather baggy green cotton trousers with brown leather sandals laced up his legs. Around his neck hung a large necklace adorned with approximately a dozen bright red gems that clattered lightly as he walked. Over his right shoulder a sword hilt could be seen and in his hand he carried some strange device made from metal and wood. It reminded Harwin of cannon and suddenly he understood what had happened.

“A mess we have ‘ere, Cap’n. What’re you doin’ in the Ancient Forest, pray tell?”

Harwin stood for a moment trying to catch his breath. The man before him was obviously a man accustomed to battle and his clothes showed that he was daring, as well. No man wore so many adornments into battle unless he was rather confident in his abilities. Finally, Harwin got enough courage to speak.

“We were pursuing a group of Ancient Men who crossed the Watchguard and attacked our camp. Apparently you found us first.”

“Heh, aye. T’was a bloody good show in your camp, Cap’n. Your men were less prepared than a pig bein’ led off to slaughter. We didn’t want to have ta kill all of your men, though. You shouldn’t have come. This is Ancient land.”

The slaughter behind him and the insults against his men were too much for Harwin to take and he found himself becoming angry.

“You’re a butcher! We were military regulars engaging in regular military activities. You ambushed us and killed us with your cannon powder tricks. You have no grievance against us and yet-”

“No grievance? Do you remember a village called Vallidyr? T’was the home of o’er a thousand of my people. There’s isn’t a village called Vallidyr any longer, Cap’n. This is how we Ancient Men play our wars. This land will never belong to you easterners.”

“You say so now,” Harwin spit out. “But soon the full might of the glorious Paredes Army will come marching through your pathetic woods and you will beg for mercy. And your southern neighbors won’t be able to help you. We march toward the Kyrithian province even now. We will purge the land of you pagan heretics and unite the world once more.”

For a moment, the Ancient man didn’t move. Finally, he shook his head, causing beads to clack together, and looked into Harwin’s eyes. He then raised the barrel of the hand cannon and placed its end a few inches from Harwin’s face. Before he could even display his surprise, the Ancient man’s hand twitched and Harwin’s world went dark.

Chapter 5

“‘Go find a cobbler, we can’t have you walking around, representing your father, in those shoes.’ My shoes are just fine, thank you. I would have sworn it was the servant’s job to do what her lord told her to do, not the other way around.” Jacob was getting strange looks from the others in the streets, but he didn’t care.

The group had arrived at Haden Hill two days previous. Shortly after arriving, Gregory went on his own way, saying that he knew how to handle himself. Aidan had informed the priest of their arrival and discovered that they had been assigned a small suite in a nearby inn. Jacob had been glad to be settled in somewhere again, as his thighs were protesting the horse riding a good deal. Likewise, Aidan seemed to be enjoying the sights and sounds of the city, of which they had a great few from their upper-level balcony. Noreen, however, had been in a near panic ever since they moved into the suite. She instantly started fussing over his clothes, trying to arrange an appropriate ensemble, as well as worry about what she would be doing during the actual wedding. In Penrith Harbor everyone was allowed to go to a wedding, but this was a big city and she didn’t think that she would be permitted.

In an attempt to get away from her constant nagging, he had inquired as to whether there was anything within the city that needed doing. And so he found himself out looking for a cobbler. Haden Hill was an old city, built around the same time as the other ancient settlements, such as Haean and Constagra. Its largest claim to fame was the massive Haden Hill Wall. Historians agree that the Wall is the oldest permanent construction on the entire continent, as well as the largest defensive structure to survive to the present day.

Jacob found it amazing that it was the first true wall ever built as well as the largest, even to this day. He had been wary of believing such a claim. When he had been younger he had visited Constagra, the largest city west of the Watchguard. He recalled the walls there seeming to tower into the sky forever and he had severely doubted that anything could be bigger. However, as they had neared the city, Jacob’s views had begun to change. The Wall was easily twice as thick and half again as tall as the walls of Constagra and just by looking at it; one could tell that it was ancient and strong.

The city was surrounded by the relatively flat plains characteristic of the northern arm of the Kyrithia Province. Unlike the larger cities, the inhabitants of Haden Hill had refused to allow their great wall to be torn down or to become a showpiece as their population grew. Instead, five other smaller districts had been created, equally spaced around the Wall. They were also walled, but they were much shorter. The walls of the districts were relatively semicircular and butted directly into the Wall, creating somewhat of a start in shape.

Haden Hill’s history was as interesting as its famous wall. It was the ancient home of Diatar Faryden, First King of Kyrithia. Ever since then, a Faryden had ruled over the city. This was usually a rule by proxy, however, as the ruling Faryden had to hold court in Constagra because of his kingship. The family always returned to hold its wedding, however, which was why Jacob was in Haden Hill and not Constagra.

During the Burning Years, back when dragons and men had been enemies, Haden Hill had been one of the few cities that had survived intact. It had also been constantly militarized since the Old Empire and likely before then, as well. Sitting upon the river which fed Constagra and one of the few large river crossings, it was an important tactical position that many had tried to take. However, Haden Hill was also the home of the Kyrithian Knights; famed horsemen who had served continuously since the founding of Kyrithia. They were regarded by all, including their enemies, as the best cavalry unit to ever be formed.

Fuming, Jacob turned a corner and walked square into the broad chest of a town guard, who promptly shoved him away. Before he could yell at the man, he suddenly realized that he had no idea where he was. He had somehow wandered into one of the outer districts, as he realized that the Wall was behind him. He was growing frustrated and tired, not knowing where he was or where a shoe repairer could be found. So, he decided that he would forget everything and have himself a drink.

Unlike a cobbler’s booth, it wasn’t difficult to find the small tavern. He didn’t know what the place was called, as there was no sign hanging from above the door, but it was fairly obvious from the noise and the people coming out of the building. Jacob had heard stories of such places and had always wanted to see what they were like. Pulling up his pants and looking about once more, he walked confidently into the tavern.

He was mildly disappointed with his first view of the place. Everything seemed to be made from a very dark wood that drank in the light issued from the various lanterns and the hearth. There were tables lined with booths and chairs and a large bar that ran the length of the wall opposite the entrance. Serving girls walked between the tables, distributing individual mugs or entire pitchers of an extremely dark ale. A small group of men stood in the corner playing various instruments while a tall, old woman sang songs he didn’t know. He realized that they were the source of the majority of the noise, as most of the patrons talked amongst themselves. He had been expecting some sort of large brawl between large quantities of drunken men, with furniture, mugs and bottles shattering all over the place.

Jacob made his way over to the bar and sat down, far from the others. They were all solemnly staring into their mugs, oblivious to the world around them. He motioned to the barkeep in a matter he thought appropriate and waited. It wasn’t more than a moment before he had a mug of warm ale in from of him. He was too surprised to say anything, because he hadn’t even been asked what he wanted. He guessed that ale was the only thing the place served, so he picked up the mug and took a sip as his mind began to wander.

He found himself thinking about the village of Highwood. The place had haunted his dreams and preoccupied his mind since their departure from there over a week ago. Like most, Jacob had been aware of the wars raging in the north and the east and, like most, had decided that they didn’t really affect him. What did it matter to Penrith Harbor if some mountain and Ruana men fought one another? Why should he care if some upstart noble decided to unite the Ruana and Hiptia provinces? The fighting had always been such a distant thing, easily forgotten. Now, however, Jacob understood what the results of battle were like and had realized that they were nothing like the stories told by old Matan.

He had found himself wondering as to whether there was a logical explanation for what he had seen. Had the town done something to bring this attack upon itself? Had this Parades person had a reason for bringing slaughter to those people? Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t think of a single reason. Highwood was just a little community that sustained itself on its grazed animals, the fish it collected from the nearby river, and the small amount it could gather through trade. Aidan had said that the so-called Great Lord of the East was simply attacking smaller villages because he could in order to make the people over here fear and respect the power that he could bring to bear. He seemed to accept it as a common military procedure, saying that it was a lot easier to kill unarmed peasants than to lay siege to a keep and lose thousands of men before its walls. Jacob had decided that any man who would do such a thing was a monster.

He was only about halfway through his first drink when suddenly a man flopped down into the chair beside him. He was as tall as Jacob, handsome, and had the build of someone who knew how to handle themselves in a fight. He was also quite drunk. The man yelled down to the barkeeper, quite loudly, while Jacob started to stand and leave before he had a chance, however, the man whirled around on his stool and looked right at him.

“I don’t know why it is an honest man can’t find a drink in this town…know what I mean?” As he said it, the barkeeper set a drink down in front of him. With a tip of his imaginary hat, he picked up the mug and took a swallow. “I mean really. Why isn’t there a single place to get some ale? Hmm?”

Jacob wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He had seen drunk men, of course, at celebrations and down by the harbor. But those men were all people he knew and he understood how they acted when drunk. This man was a complete stranger. “Uhh…you have a drink in your hand, sir.”

The drunk made an exaggerated effort of looking at his hand. A surprised look fell upon his face as though he was just noticing the cup. “Well now, you’d be right. You’ve eyes like a hawk, boy.” Jacob nodded as the drunk started drinking more deeply and he hoped that would be the end of his engagement. Unfortunately, the man looked back to him a moment later.

“This town is too small for me, you know? I mean, the city is big enough, but it isn’t open enough. Everywhere you bloody turn you run into a giant wall. Why do we need things this big nowadays, huh? There aren’t any more dragons around. The Ancient Men don’t bother with us any longer. Those Easterners would never be able to bring something like this down. It all seems like a bunch of waste to me. If it wasn’t for my family I would never come back here.”

Jacob found himself listening to the man’s words, despite his desire to make a quick departure. He noticed that the man, though drunk, didn’t seem to slur his words or have trouble organizing his words. He was rambling, but it was a cohesive rambling. More importantly, he seemed to know a bit about the current military situation in the area. Before he could ask anything, however, the drunken fellow continued.

“Did you hear about those villages in the south getting destroyed? It was a true shame, let me tell you. They took out Nora Lake, Highwood, Kingsburg, and the list goes on. We aren’t going to have any more towns if this keeps up.” He took another drink and stared into the counter, seemingly losing himself in thought.

“I was at Highwood a week past. It was a terrible sight.” The drunk’s head snapped up and he looked intently at Jacob.

“You were at Highwood? The attack wasn’t more than eight days ago. Tell me about it, if you would.” He seemed a touch less drunk than before and so Jacob straightened himself up and tried to picture the town once more in his mind.

“Apparently we had arrived only a day or so after the attack. Most of the buildings had been put to the torch. Only the lord’s manor, the Temple, and a few other stone buildings had managed to survive. Many were killed in the streets as they ran. Others managed to escape, a few hundred in all. They’ll be spending months rebuilding their homes.”

As he had spoken, the man’s face grew grimmer. “That’s just fantastic. Aton Paredes will have a sword through his gullet before this is all over, believe you me.” He upended his cup, drinking down its contents in one giant gulp. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“I’m Jacob. And you are?”

“Jacob, I’m glad you bumped into me today. I had heard of the attack, but I hadn’t heard specifics. It’s enough to drive a man into the bottle for the rest of his life. Come, I’ll buy you a drink.” With that, the man whirled about, stood up and promptly fell flat on his face with a loud thud. The bartender looked over and shook his head.

“I let ‘em stay until they start hittin’ my floor. Scoop up your friend and get ‘im out of here.”

Jacob made to protest, but the man simply and sternly pointed to the door then went back to cleaning his mugs. His eyes moved across the room, hoping to find someone willing to help. He was disappointed to find that nobody seemed to care about the man upon the floor. With a sigh, Jacob bent over and grabbed the man’s arm.

After a considerable amount of time and a certain amount of wrestling – which had given many in the room a good chuckle – Jacob finally managed to get the man onto his feet. With one arm around the man’s shoulder and the other held out to his side for balance, he walked the drunk toward and out of the door into the street, which was only illuminated by the bright moon which hung low in the sky. He stood there for a time, wondering what he should do with the man before the drunk finally took his arm from Jacob’s shoulders and stood on his own, wobbling lightly in the breeze.

“It was nice meeting you, sir,” Jacob said, wanting to be finished with the man as quickly as possible.

“And you, Jacob. But please, I must reward your kindness. How about coming over to my house and having a drink? None of this horrid ale, of course. I’m thinking a fine white wine from the western coast. It’s rather good. Come, come.”

The man waved his arm a few times then went stumbling down the road. Jacob stood for a moment, quite aware of the fact that he could simply turn around, walk away, and be done with the man. Watching him stumble about, however, filled Jacob with guilt for some reason. He didn’t want the fool to hurt himself on the way home, after all. Only a few years back, Arthur the Stonecutter had been drunk and had fallen from a harbor. He had washed back onto shore a few days later.

With a sigh, Jacob turned and followed after the man.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m a little fuzzy as to where my house is, uh…located. But I’m sure we’ll find it soon enough.”

They walked for a time in silence, the roads practically deserted. It was strange to Jacob to see a city as big as Haden Hill completely silent. He had always figured that places like this staid busy and loud all through the night, with lights shining, music playing, and people dancing until sunrise. It had never really occurred to him that city folk had to sleep just like everyone else. He blamed Matan for that mindset.

His eyes wandered before spotting armored guards moving about on top of the walls, small torches burning in their hands. Somehow, the sight of the walls and the guards made him feel safe and he started to realize why people would want to live in such a place. Surely it was safer than living in the plains or on the river where attacks could come rolling in at any moment.

“Ah-ha! Here we are, my friend. This looks to be the place.” Jacob and the drunk stood before a large, three-story manor tucked between other, smaller homes. He was rather surprised by the size of the dwelling, considering the fact that it was owned by a drunken man. It was only then that Jacob realized that the man’s clothes were anything but the common rags seen in bars. His shirt seemed well-worn and wrinkled, but it was a dark green silk. His pants were in a similar condition, though they were soft cotton and seemed to be of a good stitch. Jacob found himself wondering what this man did for a living.

“Come along now and please be quiet. We don’t want to wake anyone inside.” The man turned and silently walked to a side down, opened it and disappeared inside. After a moment’s pause, Jacob went and followed him in.

He found himself standing in an ornate dining room, with a few candles still burning upon the large oak table. Great tapestries hung from the walls, each depicting epic battle scenes. Walking over to one, Jacob saw a man riding upon a giant black dragon, a long spear in one hand and a horn in the other. The dragon’s mouth was open with fire spewing forth onto the army below. The hanging next to it showed three beings doing battle within a large chamber. One was the man whom had been riding the dragon, one was the dragon itself and the last was a tall, dark figure with fearsome red eyes and a terrible scythe in its hand. The image stirred something within Jacob, for he was sure that he had heard or seen something about that particular fight, perhaps from Matan.

“Would you like some food, my friend? It appears that there is some beef or something here and apparently a bit of wine. I’m afraid it’s not white, however.” The man extended a glass cup to Jacob, which he took thankfully. He took a drink and continued to look around the room.

“This is a nice place you have here, sir. As fine as any-” His words were cut off as a noise issued from the doorway in the far wall. Suddenly a tall, portly man came leaping into the room with a small brass cudgel held tightly in his hand. Jacob felt sorry for waking the man and moved to apologize.

“What are you doin’ in my bloody house?!” the man asked in a deep, irritated voice. Jacob, rather confused, looked to the drunk who was staring at the man with wide eyes. Jacob decided that he needed to defuse the situation.

“I’m sorry, sir. This fellow said that this was his house and…”

“His house? His house?! I’ll beat both of you bloody, Father help me!”

With a roar, the fat man came charging at the two intruders. The drunken man was surprisingly fast on his feet and was out the backdoor before Jacob could react. His mind was still trying to grasp the situation when the owner of the house took a strong swing at his head. He fell backward, spilling the wine all over the rug and himself. He rolled to the side, dodging a downward smash, before leaping to his feet. Self-defense mechanisms kicked in and he gave the man a push, sending him sprawling across the floor. In terror, Jacob flew out of the house and down the road, the fat man streaming and cursing as he did.

After running for what seemed like hours, Jacob finally came to a stop at a street corner. He leaned against a nearby building, struggling to regain his breath. As his heart was just beginning to return to a normal speed, the drunk came walking around the corner.

“Well, Jacob, that was apparently not my house. Odd, I thought that was it.”

“You…bloody fool. We could have been…killed!” He noticed that, while he was panting and sweating, the man opposite him didn’t seem any worse for the wear. This irritated Jacob to no end.

“Bah, we were fine,” the drunk said, suddenly stumbling to his left for no apparent reason. “That fellow was fat, anyway. He couldn’t catch us. It was fun, though, wasn’t it?”

“It wasn’t fun, it was…was…” Jacob suddenly found himself laughing over the sheer idiocy of what had just occurred. “You don’t look that drunk. You knew that wasn’t your house.”

A sly smile formed upon the man’s face. “First off, I am rather drunk still. For instance, I see three of you. But I must confess that I knew what I was doing.”

“You’re a madman. I should find a city guard and tell him to lock you up.”

“They wouldn’t lock up a prince such as me,” the drunk said, striking a stately pose. He started laughing along with Jacob until someone yelled down at them from a window, telling them to be quiet. With a sigh, the man looked up at the sky.

“I must now be getting home; my real home. It was a pleasure, Jacob. I hope we meet again!” The man turned and started down the street.

“And I hope I never see you again, sir. Goodnight.” Shaking his head, Jacob looked around in an attempt to get his bearings. With the excitement of the evening waning, he suddenly became aware of how extremely tired he was. As he walked down the road in the opposite direction as his new friend, he wondered to himself whether city life was always like this and whether Reyna had ever had any midnight escapades during her visits to Constagra. He decided that he would have to tell her all about it when he returned.

After walking somewhat aimlessly for about fifteen minutes, Jacob was exceptionally surprised to find himself standing outside of the inn where he was staying. He had figured that he was on the opposite side of the city by now, but somehow his midnight escape had brought him back to where he had started. Just as happiness filled him, however, he realized that he would likely be yelled at by Noreen, for he hadn’t succeeded in finding a cobbler. It seemed to him that she had a special way of ruining his moods. Pausing for a moment, he took a deep breath and walked in and up to the suite.

“Where have you been?” The question echoed through the room and Jacob feared that the noise would wake the others. “You were supposed to go get your shoes fixed. How hard could that be, hmm? In a town this big, surely you could find something as common as a cobbler. But no! I see that you’ve been out drinking. Do you think that wine just flows right out of clothes on command? You’ve ruined that shirt, I hope you know.”

Looking down at himself, he realized that the red wine from the fat man’s house had thoroughly stained the chest of his shirt and the top of his pants, as well. He didn’t really have the patience for such arguing as it was rather late.

“I just stopped by a tavern. I haven’t been out drinking all night. Why aren’t you asleep?”

“You think I can sleep with you wandering through the city alone?”

“I’m touched, Noreen,” Jacob said, rolling his eyes.

“Well you should be. I’m the only one that seems to care about what you do with yourself. Well if you weren’t out boozing then what were you doing, hmm? See if you can talk your way out of it, boy.” This greatly frustrated Jacob.

“You’re right, you’re right. I was out drinking all night. I got thoroughly drunk, ran around with another drunk, broke into some rich guy’s house, drank some of his wine, almost got my head smashed in, ran halfway across Haden Hill, and sobered up just in time to come up here and say hello.”

Noreen simply stood there for a few moments staring at him. “You don’t have to be sarcastic. Now get to bed.” She turned and returned to her room, slamming the door as she went.

“And a good night to you, too, Noreen.”

Jacob fell upon his bed without changing his clothes. His fatigue had been steadily increasing and it had grown almost unbearable. Within a few moments, he was asleep.

Chapter 4

The sound of war drums reverberated throughout the city, bouncing from building to building, wall to wall. The occasional horn blared, as well, and a great host of people were screaming salutations and praises from the streets; but still the drums beat louder. The full force of Aton Paredes’ massive army stood before the walls of Hiptia City. It’s thousands of men were arrayed within the field in full armament, which was one of the most impressive scenes many of the citizens of the city had ever seen.

A body of horse stood at the flank of the army, their armor shining brilliantly in the sun. They were heavily armored knights in full plate, their long lances bearing streamers which played in the gentle wind. The body of foot soldiers between them was immense. There were spears and pikes, axes and maces, tower shields and bucket helmets. At the center was an entire company of swordsmen; professional men with matching armor, shield and weapon. Their armor was stained a dark crimson, as was their sword and shield. While the remainder of the army was feared for its size in numbers, the swordsmen were feared for their discipline and skill. They were the Crimson Brothers and within the Paredes Army, they reigned supreme.

Aligned in front of the main army was a formation of archers and crossbowmen. The archers held powerful longbows and mainly wore leather armor. The crossbowmen were armed with some of the most powerful crossbows in the world and were rightly feared for their accuracy and strength. They were armored in tanned brigandine and carried large shields with notches cut in the top for balancing the crossbow upon.

While all of this the people of Hiptia City had seen before, an oddity stood upon the hill behind the army that drew their attention. A dozen large metallic tubes sat between large wheels, their bores lazily aimed in the general direction of the city. Two wooden crates and a stack of stone balls stood beside each, as did three men. Word had spread through the city of these devices – these so-called cannon ­- with their thunderous noise and destructive capacity. They were feared more than anything else upon the field.

From a small copse of trees upon a nearby hill, Aton sat mounted, along with his generals and advisors, looking down upon his great force. A small smile seemed fixed upon his face as his generals spoke of siege strategy and attack tactics. Aton admitted that he was not the most skilled man when it came to maneuvering armies, but he was no full either. He knew that there would be no need for battle. With a wave of his hand the drumming stopped and he heard upon the wind the cries of joy coming from the city. He sat up a little straighter than before as he imagined the throngs called out his name in praise. It had been too long since he had last attended an actual battle and despite assured victory, he still found that his pulse quickened a bit at the thought.

Aton had fought and won in many battles for it was required of a Great Lord to be strong in both mind and body. Men had died upon his sword, he had bashed in the heads of many with his shield and had pinned others to the ground with a lance. He had also had his horse speared out from under him, had been slashed across the arms and legs and had taken a spear through the shoulder. He had been fighting for years and he had been winning for years. Because of this, he had yet to lose his taste for it.

With a sigh, Aton turned and looked to his generals. He was growing tired of waiting. “My lords, when do you think that they will-” As he spoke, a loud crack filled the air with a faint grinding noise following. Looking to the city, he saw that the gates were slowly swinging open. His smile widened.

Before the gate closed again, a sizeable body of horse rode, perhaps twenty in all. All of the riders were adorned in brilliant full plate armor covered by surcoats of varying colors and designs, indicating the bearer’s home. Before the group of armored men rode a line of young men wearing no armor at all, holding forth large banners which matched the surcoats. Though their dress was exceptional, it paled next to Aton’s own golden armor.

With another smile, Aton signaled to his men to follow him as he proceeded to ride down the hill toward the men. He passed through the middle of his foot soldiers, each of whom cried out praises as he came. This is why I am doing this thing. These people require a strong leader to admire. They need someone to be strict with them; otherwise they will fall to indulgence and vice. I will help them and I will make them forget about those Dragon Lords of old. The Empire of the Sun will eclipse them.

As they came out from the army, Aton’s generals arrayed themselves in a similar fashion as the lords they approached. The Great Lord didn’t truly know any of the men who followed him, but he did not question their loyalty. They were, all of them, lords of the northern lands and knew little of these southern fishermen and farmers. He had hoped that this would help his generals in treating them the way they needed to be treated. It was always hardest to punish one’s own, after all.

“Hail, Lord Aton Paredes of Haean. You seem to have brought a fine army with you today, sir. What is it you intend to do with it, I wonder?” Aton knew the lord who spoke. His name was Erich Gwenson and had held three different cities during the Eastern Consolidation. Every time the Paredes Army made him flee one, he soon took control of another. He was the chief mastermind behind the southern resistance.

“Lord Erich Gwenson of…what is it today, my lord? I’m afraid you’ve been moving around so much lately, I haven’t been able to keep up with your doings.”

A smile formed across Erich’s face. He said, “Indeed, Paredes. You’ve chased me to my most recent home, it would seem. Behold mighty Hiptia City, Jewel of the Coast. It may not compare in size to your Haean, but it is a grand city, indeed.”

Aton made an exaggerated effort of looking beyond the lords to the city. “Some fine walls, as well, I see. It would be a shame for my cannons to have to knock them down.”

“That it would. That is why we are willing to surrender the city to you, provided you meet a few terms.” Aton’s raised an eyebrow and Erich continued. “All of the lords within the city are to be taken into your court and are exempt from your treason executions. Second, the people within the city are not to be harmed. Third, your army is to refrain from collecting its conquest rights.”

Aton thought for a moment, looking at his army and then at the walls of the city once more. “You understand that I do not have to bend to any of your demands, yes? Surely you see that I have the strength to crush this town of yours within a fortnight. However, Gwenson, I will show you the kindness and forgiveness that I am capable of bestowing upon my willing subjects. Your terms will be met.”

A slight murmur of excitement went through the lords gathered when Aton accepted the surrender. One gave the signal and one of the bannerman raised high a large green flag and became to flap it back and forth. A greater cheer rose from the city as the gates once more began to open. Aton signaled to a nearby crossbowman company to come closer as he looked back to the assembly of lords before him.

“Men, it was a wise decision you made here today. Your people will thank you for it, I am sure.” The crossbowmen came to a halt before the lords. “Ah, yes. Form up, please.”

The crossbowmen fanned out in front of the lords, as they began to protest.

“Paredes! You promised amnesty to all of the lords here!” Erich’s was a study on surprise and terror.

“Ah, not exactly, my good Lord Erich. I promised to take the lords ‘within the city’ into my court. As you can see, you are not in the city.” He addressed his crossbowmen once more. “Kill all of them except Lord Erich here. He may be useful.”

The lords began to run away, kicking their horses hard as the wheeled about in their panic. Some screamed and some cried, but they all died as the bolts buried themselves into their backs. Aton shook his head at the display. “Men should be more willing to see their death coming. It is a flaw we have, I think. But yes. General, move the army into the city.”

The general nodded and rode back toward to army, giving the signals to all of the men. Erich stood in shock as the army began marching toward the gates, which, despite the display of brutality, still stood wide open. “At least promise they won’t pillage.”

“I can promise you that the army will not pillage your city. I will not give the order, anyway. What the greedy hearts of men cause them to do on an individual basis, however, I can not help.”

Aton lifted his hand high and once more, seemingly radiating from everywhere at one, the war drums began to pound. The sound once more tore through the city, announcing itself to all as the entire mass of the Paredes Army marched through the open gates.