CHAPTER ONE
As the gates of Destarra swung slowly open, revealing the army besieging the city, King Aldus of Lytos hoped that he was doing the right thing.
He’d asked himself that question so many times in the hours leading up to this. The truth was that he didn't know if it was right, but it was the only choice now. His only chance to save the people of his city.
Aldus sat atop his war horse, dressed in armor worked with the runes of the small magic, carrying the sword that had served him so well in battle before. He should have looked every inch the warrior king, but he suspected that it wasn’t enough.
He tried not to show any signs of pain as he rode, from the injuries sustained weeks back now when he'd been crushed by a falling tree. On foot, those injuries made his sword more of a crutch than a weapon, but on horseback, perhaps Aldus could still be the warrior he had been.
What would his people see as they stood there? There were enough of them watching the army as it prepared to ride out. He was still tall and powerfully built, even if his once golden hair was laced with grey, his beard tangled, his face worn with more than forty years of caring for his people.
He hoped that his people would remember this moment, when Aldus rode at the head of his army, ready to make one last stand against the barbarians who threatened the city. He tried not to shiver in the cold that had come upon his kingdom under shadow filled skies, sent by the king of the Kingdom Beneath, Zander.
He led that army through the gates, his horse's hooves tracking through the snow beyond. The army of the Janden lay ahead. The only options today were to fight and win, or to die.
The part that worried Aldus was that, most likely, he and his army would simply die.
Even then, though, there was a chance that they might save the city. Tak, the leader of the Janden, had promised that he would spare the people of Destarra if Aldus rode out to face his forces in open battle. Tak’s Janden were weary and starving; he wanted a swift end to the siege and didn’t want to throw them at the walls of the city to die.
Not that it was just the Janden Aldus and his soldiers were facing. Mercenaries from the city-states of the south were camped beside them. So were rebellious nobles of Lytos. Both had been brought there by the wiles of Lord Antonio, who had plotted to overthrow Aldus and take the throne from the start of all of this.
Which reminded him. There was still one thing Aldus needed to do before the battle could begin.
"Bring him!" Aldus said.
A pair of his guards dragged a struggling figure forward in
chains. He was slender, with chestnut hair and calculating eyes that watched everything closely. His clothes had once been fine, but were now dirty and torn. Weeks of being in a dungeon would do that to a man.
Lord Antonio glared up at Aldus with undisguised hatred. Aldus was grateful for that. It made a change after so many years of Antonio plotting behind his back.
"What do you intend now, my king?" he spat the last couple of words. "Do you intend to execute me where all can see? It will make no difference to what happens. Or maybe you hope that I can negotiate with the Janden for you? Maybe I can talk King Zander of the Kingdom Beneath into giving back your daughter or taking the shadows from the skies."
Aldus drew his sword.
"I should kill you, Antonio. Your actions have brought about the deaths of far too many of my people. You tried to murder me. You stand in league with Zander. You could be executed for any one of those things."
Aldus glanced down at Lord Antonio, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. The weight of the decision tugged at his weary soul. He knew that justice demanded retribution. Yet, as he stared into those calculating eyes, a flicker of doubt clouded his resolve.
"No," he said, lowering his sword. "I won't give you the satisfaction of an easy death, Antonio. If you want to be my enemy, go and be my enemy. Face me head on, rather than trying to stab me in the back. Guards, remove his chains. Send him over to stand with our foes. If he is lucky, the Janden archers will not feather him on the way over."
Antonio looked shocked at that. Clearly, he had never anticipated such a fate. He’d obviously thought that he would die here, in some kind of defiant death that would become a symbol for his followers. The guards hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether they should follow the king's order. But Aldus held their gaze with an unwavering determination, his steel-gray eyes piercing through their hesitation.
"Do as I command," he said, his voice firm and resolute. "Lord Antonio has made his choice. It's time he faces the consequences of his actions."
Reluctantly, the guards unshackled Lord Antonio and pushed him towards the enemy lines. Antonio stumbled but quickly regained his composure, casting a venomous glare at Aldus before starting across the open ground between the forces of Lytos and those of their foes. Perhaps he still thought that he would die, cut down by his allies as he approached. Perhaps that still might happen. Aldus half hoped for it.
Aldus turned away from the scene, his mind heavy with the weight of his decision. He knew that letting Antonio live was a risk, but he couldn't bring himself to simply cut the man down. That would only fuel any lingering resentment within Destarra. He didn’t know which of his men might turn against him for doing it, which might join his foes. Executing Antonio might make him a martyr and a rallying cry, an excuse for more traitors to try to murder Aldus. Aldus wanted to have his enemies in front of him for once, rather than worrying about daggers in the dark.
Well, he had enough of those. The Janden's numbers were vast, their warriors clad in scale armor and furs, carrying a motley collection of weapons. Many were on horseback, carrying short bows that they could fire on the move to harry their foes, fleeing back out of range before anyone could retaliate. The mercenaries of the city states were clad in a mixture of different types of armor, carrying pikes or short swords, arranged in neat lines. The renegade nobles wore the armor of knights, their banners fluttering in the breeze, their lances stuck in the dirt, ready to be snatched up for battle.
To Aldus' disappointment, the Janden didn't shoot down Antonio as he approached, perhaps because one of the renegade nobles rode out hurriedly to collect him and bring him back to the rebellious lines. Aldus guessed it was too much to hope that his enemies would take care of the threat that
Antonio posed for him.
Aldus stood at the edge of his army, gazing out at the vast expanse of the enemy's forces. The sight was both awe-inspiring and daunting. The Janden warriors, with their fierce determination and tribal markings etched across their faces, presented a formidable challenge. The city-state mercenaries, battle-hardened and disciplined, were ready to unleash their deadly arsenal upon Aldus' men. And amidst it all, the rebellious nobles of Lytos, fueled by a thirst for power and vengeance, stood as a constant reminder of the treachery that lurked within his own kingdom.
But Aldus refused to falter in the face of this seemingly overwhelming opposition. He had been preparing for this moment, meticulously strategizing and training his army to withstand any assault. Now, as shadows covered the skies of the battlefield and snow continued to fall, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the battle that lay ahead.
With a wave of his hand, Aldus signaled his commanders to assemble their troops. One by one, the soldiers fell into line, their armor glinting in the sunlight as they moved into precise formations. The heavy thud of boots on the ground echoed through the air as they formed a formidable wall of warriors, shields locked together, spears at the ready. His mounted knights formed into wedges, ready to piece the heart of the enemy's formations.
Aldus positioned himself at the front of his army. His soldiers needed to see that their king would take any risk to keep his city safe. For this, they needed a reason to charge towards the enemy, and the presence of their king would help them do it.
With a mighty roar, Aldus raised his sword high above his head, its silver blade gleaming in the sunlight. The sound reverberated through the air, reaching the ears of every soldier in his army. It was a call to arms, a rallying cry that ignited a fire within their hearts.
"Soldiers of Lytos!" Aldus's voice boomed across the battlefield, carrying with it a fervor that could not be contained. "Today, we stand at the precipice of history! We face insurmountable odds, surrounded by enemies who seek to tear our kingdom apart. But I tell you this: we will not yield! We will not falter! For we are united, bound together by the blood that runs through our veins and the love we hold for our homeland! ...
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2024 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
