The Council meeting had officially ended hours ago after Commander Khroy’s departure from the Great Hall. Yet, Maebus remained in court with Kelm to further discuss the Council’s reaction to their strategy.
“There’s no turning back now,” Maebus expelled, slouching as far as his stiff throne seat would allow him.
Kelm leaned forward upon the Council table, interlocking his fingers, and concentrating upon Maebus. “Not as bad as your first official Council meeting could’ve been.”
Maebus shook his head. “Let’s be honest, Kelm. Regardless of what we’ve planned, our military is ill-equipped to deal with a force the size of Damian’s. We’re literally forced into a position of mitigating our losses.”
He suddenly felt a hollow achiness behind his right eye. He knew immediately it came from hunger and stress. Earlier, Kelm tried to convince him to eat some of the vegetable soup brought in by the kitchen staff. But he had no appetite. He was too preoccupied with mentally replaying the events of the Council meeting.
“Are you not satisfied with our strategy?” Kelm asked.
Maebus sighed. “As you’ve said before, it’s the only one we have. What I find unsettling is that it’s the first time in Realmsic history anything like this has ever been done.”
“Exactly!” Kelm interjected. “How would the enemy anticipate something he’s never seen? Though, to speak objectively, a plan such as this, with so many moving parts, provides more opportunities for things to go wrong. Yet, with so many people not aware of what the others are doing, it also prevents anyone from seeing the full picture.”
“Prevents them from interfering,” Maebus added. “At times, it’s necessary to protect yourself not only from your enemies, but also from your allies. I fear Damian’s wrath would not compare to that of the Council’s if they truly knew what we were doing. By the time they realize it, there will be no way to stop it.”
The Grand Wizard laughed. “History may not look kindly upon you, brother.”
“I’m not concerned with how history remembers me. I’m concerned only with saving the Realm.”
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a frantic rapping upon the chamber doors. Both men rose to their feet.
Maebus listened to the muffled voice emanating from behind the doors. “That sounds like Khroy,” he said, taking an extra moment to confirm. “Quickly, let him in!”
Kelm obliged, swinging them open with a wave of his hand. Commander Khroy bounded toward the Council table as if his feet couldn’t carry him fast enough. His eyes reflected a worry that they rarely displayed.
“King, Advisor,” he began as he approached. “The Legion is upon us.”
Kelm jerked backwards as if hit by an invisible force. “Already?”
“Aye, Advisor. I’ve just received word from a western border patrolman via carrier-hawk. At the Legion’s current speed, our man estimates them to be less than a day’s march from the kingdom. They’ve crossed from the Western Nations and have trespassed into our lands. Also—” Khroy paused, passing his large hand over his chin; a pang of heartache tightened his features. “They have incinerated the Sacred Forest in their wake.”
“What!” Maebus gasped, tightly wrapping his arms across his own chest. His gaze shifted to Kelm who was supporting his full weight against the table. Kelm’s eyes became moist. “I ... I can’t believe it! Through all the wars, all the destruction, all the misery, the Sacred Forest has remained untouched. Now...” he released a great sigh. “Now that seed of hope is gone, forever. How could he—”
Maebus pounded his fist upon the table, outraged.
“Must all the world be scorched earth?” he shouted.
Khroy remained silent.
“I don’t understand Damian’s senseless act,” the King’s voice shook with rage.
Turning to face the table, Kelm waved his hands over its surface until it vibrated. The smooth stone tabletop staggered jaggedly up and down as objects began rising towards the ceiling. From its surface, the mountain ranges of the northern and southern lands appeared, followed by forests, rivers and lakes. A topographic map of the entire Realm took shape in the middle of the table.
Peering at its crags and valleys, Kelm said, “A day away gives us less time to prepare than we anticipated.”
“With respect sir, my men are always prepared,” Khroy interjected. “As night falls, we’ll fortify the castle.”
The Commander pointed to the map. “Come morning’s light, we’ll have two defensive perimeters established: One around our castle’s exterior guard wall, and the other further out just beyond the boundary of Centre Pointe. At the first sight of the Warlord, we’ll be ready to engage.”
“I’ve no doubt of that,” Maebus said. Despite the confidence of his tone, he was anxious. An attack was no longer just a discussion. With Damian nipping at their heels, invasion was now real, tangible, and inevitable.
Maebus pulled his spine even straighter as the necessity of his task filled him with determination. “Go, Commander. Update the Joint Officers Corps. Give them the ambassadorial assignments we spoke of earlier and then have their men rally for battle. By now, the Council members will have received their individual instructions and will know that they’re to gather here in the Great Hall by morning.”
Khroy gave a standard Realmsic salute—two fingers across the heart, followed by a quick chest pound. He then pivoted and sprinted towards the chamber exit.
“Commander!” Maebus shouted. Khroy halted in his tracks.
“Inform the brothers,” he ordered. “Their time has come.”
• • • • •
Within the residence hall of the castle, a small child skillfully opened his room door so that it wouldn’t make a sound. He then peeked his head into the hallway.
“Come on, it’s all clear,” Hom said to his brother.
“I told you to wait for me,” Heegan exclaimed. He yanked Hom by the collar and pulled him back into their room. Kneeling down to be at eye level, Heegan gave his brother a scolding look. “I’m the oldest, so I’m in charge. Do you understand me?”
“Sure,” Hom replied, a smile stretching across his chubby face.
“Hey! Did you just cross your fingers behind your back?”
Hom was no older than twelve years old and was never one to follow rules. “Um, no,” he replied, though not very convincingly.
Heegan shook his head. Being closer to fifteen years, his pale skin looked darker from the peach fuzz he desperately tried to grow. Although his size was that of an average teenager, people often told him that he possessed the earnestness of a much older man.
The youth rose to his feet. He then carefully peeked his head into the hallway, just as his brother had. “Come on, it’s all clear,” he said.
“Is it really?” Hom sarcastically asked, rolling his eyes.
Carrying only one small satchel each, the brothers scampered down the empty residence hallway towards the main corridor. Despite the Warlord’s threat of attack, the Realmsic Castle had been relatively calm throughout the entire day. It wasn’t until late afternoon, after Commander Khroy had knocked on their door and alerted them of their tasks, that they noticed the increased activity. Now, within the darkness of night, they discovered the castle had become even more chaotic.
The staff and military bustled with preparations just as they’d done for perhaps a thousand battles before. The brothers slid easily through the frantic adults. Most children who lived in the castle had long become accustomed to such activity.
The brothers took advantage of the adult’s attentiveness to their tasks that needed to be completed by morning. No one seemed to even notice Heegan and Hom as they nonchalantly headed towards the lower cellars and absconded through a drainage tunnel on the east side of the castle.
Once outside, the brisk night air hit them. Hom took a moment to gaze upon the starry night. The rain had stopped and the sky was now cloudless.
“Hurry up! We don’t have much tim
e,” Heegan demanded.
“All right, all right, I’m right behind you!” Hom huffed.
Together, they ran from the castle at full speed, across an open damp field. The tall grass came up to their knees, yet the night air was refreshing. Hom opened his mouth wide to breathe as much of it as he could.
As they headed towards the castle’s land bridge and entrance gate, the Centre Forest came into view.
“That’s where we need to go,” Heegan said.
“Yes, sir!” Hom said in an exaggerated deep voice that seemed to mock Heegan.
Unexpectedly, two speeding objects shot toward them without warning.
“Quick, duck down!” Heegan yelled.
The two fell to their stomachs and laid flat on the ground. “Ewww,” Hom said softly, wiping the mud off his hands.
They hid in the tall grass as several Realmsic soldiers galloped past on horses.
“Okay, let’s go,” Hom said jumping up.
“Wait!” Heegan yanked his brother back to the ground as another rider zipped past them. Hearing the galloping hooves fade into the distance, Heegan cautiously lifted his head to verify that the coast was clear. Both boys stood up and wiped themselves off.
“What would you do without me?” Heegan asked.
“Apparently nothing well,” Hom replied.
They retrieved their satchels from the ground and ran as fast as they could towards the castle’s east guard wall. Staying low against the jagged stones, they followed the rounded wall towards its entrance gate opening, which faced south. After verifying the coast was clear, they crossed the land bridge and darted towards the Centre Forest, vanishing into its depth.
• • • • •
Maebus stared at his shiny war armor, which rested upon his bed. Upon returning to his personal chamber, his squires had brought it in for him. Piece by piece, he analyzed the suit’s detail and craftsmanship. The metal breastplate was thick and could easily withstand an axe blow or magical blast.
The suit’s various sections had also been connected by strong rivets. The armor shined a metallic yellow that Maebus hoped wasn’t gold. There was too much suffering within the Realm for such frivolousness. The armor appeared to be new and hadn’t yet been soiled by battle. This inescapable fact embarrassed him.
Next to the armor laid his battle sword. Years ago, it’d been given to him by his own father. Certainly it wasn’t the typical gift presented to a newly selected Councilman. But the gesture was appreciated nonetheless.
The sword was an impressive weapon despite containing no jewels or fancy stenciled designs. It was simply a warrior’s sword: sharp and reliable. Such a weapon probably cost his father every coin he had in the world. Yet, Maebus was assured that it was worth its price.
“With such a sword, your suggestions to the Council will be heard more clearly,” his father had said.
Maebus laughed at the memory.
He lifted the weapon from the bed. The ice-cold hilt warmed instantly in his hands. He missed his father. And though he carried many of his qualities within himself, the deception needed to mislead the Council wasn’t one of them. No, Neebus of the Southern Hills would never have approved. But then again, his father never would’ve wanted the responsibility of leadership thrust upon him.
Alone, Maebus strapped on his battle suit and sheathed the sword. His polished armor clanked with each step that he took towards the door. Standing guard outside his quarters, his sentries immediately snapped to attention.
“Let’s go,” he said to them.
“Go where?” asked a voice accusingly. As though appearing out of thin air, Kelm stood in the hall.
“I go to battle, with my men,” Maebus replied.
Kelm shook his head. “Maebus, not since Queen Alyma has a royal fought on the battlefield!”
Smiling at his friend, Maebus conceded, “And a great warrior she was.” But he still turned to walk away from Kelm.
“Maebus, stop!” the Wizard called.
A long, breathy sigh escaped Maebus as he halted and turned around. “Kelm,” he began, “I don’t expect for you to agree with my decision.”
“I don’t.”
Maebus smirked. “I can influence this battle as well as any soldier we have, and I’ll not stand idly by waiting, anticipating a wishful outcome. Not while I have the sound mind and able body to fight!”
“This is insane, Maebus. You can’t... What makes you think that...” Unable to form a coherent argument, Kelm stopped speaking. He too sighed, for he probably knew it would be useless arguing with Maebus. “I foresaw this moment and have likewise prepared for it.”
He reached into his robe pocket. “You can’t blame me for trying to talk you out of it,” he said, handing Maebus a small dark device. “Here, take this.”
“Ah, another one of your fine magical gadgets.”
Kelm ignored the friendly jab. “When the time comes, press the button on its cover. I’ll monitor you from the command tower.”
“And I have something for you,” Maebus replied, pulling a handwritten message from a flat leather pouch affixed to his sword belt. The square of paper was similar to those distributed to the Council. “I was going to give this to you later, but...” he shrugged, as though at a loss for explanation. “These instructions are for you to follow, if I don’t return.”
“Maebus...” Kelm’s gaze was intent upon his friend.
The King placed the folded message in his palm and clasped hands with his brother. “May today ultimately bring us peace,” he said.
Before Kelm could respond, he pivoted on a heel and walked down the corridor. He tried not to think of it possibly being the last time they might speak to one another. Pushing the unpleasant notion out of his mind, he made his way downstairs to the castle stables.
Upon arrival, his two squires were already waiting with his horse. “Peckton. Chaes,” he greeted them. “And hello, Nightly!” Maebus gently patted the horse upon her face. She too had been strapped with polished armor, which glistened under lit torches. Upon helping him mount, Squire Peckton informed Maebus that the Realmsic Army was already taking position, and his officers were ready to receive him just beyond the castle’s exterior guard wall. The massive structure had been erected to protect the east and west sides of the castle. The north side was naturally protected by a steep cliff towering above the Northwest River.
With the clanking of metal upon metal, he rode out of the stables and galloped the distance from the main entrance and across the land bridge, which had been pre-emptively fortified as usual. Once beyond the castle’s exterior guard walls, he glanced at the dark midnight sky. The rain had stopped. Nightly splashed hard through mud puddles, splattering their armor.
“Thank you, my friend,” Maebus chuckled.
Up ahead, he saw Commander Khroy and several officers waiting for him at the wall. Beyond them, ranks of soldiers were forming a defensive position around the castle according to how Khroy had previously devised.
“Ready?” Maebus asked as he approached his officers.
“Ready,” the Commander replied on their behalf.
Maebus took one last longing scan of the Realmsic Castle as though he would commit each stone to memory. Then, he and his detail began their ride to the boundary of Centre Pointe to unite with the rest of his troops. Quickly, he pushed from his mind the thought that this could be the last battle of their lives.
Chapter Seven