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Elodi had returned to Calerdorn to find the rescued prisoners in better health than she could have wished. But if her spirits rose with their recovery, Captain Roold’s account of the battle at Drunsberg, dragged them back down. The old man, Dohl, also troubled her. His transformation from the crooked, harmless creature, into a raging madman, alarmed her. And Wendel had not been pleased to hear of her close scrape with death. But Elodi had little time to worry about Dohl. Reports from her scouts posted around Dorn had filled her with dread. While Elodi and her strike force had focused their efforts on Durran Wood, the enemy had not been idle.

Elodi stood before the giant map and addressed her Council in Calerdorn’s Great Hall. ‘To the east, the Ruuk hold Drunsberg, but as yet, they have not ventured forth. I have dispatched a division of reserves, led by Captain Cubric of the Archonian Guard to keep vigil. Once we can secure the border to the north, we shall seek to retake the mines.’ Elodi ran her hand toward the Kolossos Mountains. ‘The wyke, Uleva is heading east, but her destination is not known.’ She stepped back across the map. ‘Durran Wood is at last free of the evil, and the settlement within destroyed. We shall maintain a watch to ensure it stays that way.’ A few heads nodded their appreciation. But that was the last of her good news.

Elodi took a position before the blue sea on the wall map. ‘But my primary concern is the situation at Draegnor.’ Her stomach knotted. ‘We know enemy reinforcements have poured into the fort and surrounding area. And… I believe the wyke who took the mines, who Captain Roold informs me goes by the name of Uldrak, commands the gathering masses.’ The room stayed silent. She took a deep breath. ‘Members of the Council, judging by the movements witnessed by our scouts, we can be certain they’re preparing to launch an attack on Calerdorn very soon.’

Gasps filled the hall. All but Perdew, the longest serving Councilor at the table, leaped to their feet. Elodi tried to speak over them. ‘Please, please sit. Let us not panic.’ She scanned the faces around the table, suddenly feeling like the Archon as he had reported on the activity behind the gate. Gundrul banged his fists on the table, silencing the room.

Elodi nodded. ‘Thank you, Captain. While I agree this is not what we want to hear, I have great faith in the forces I have at my disposal in the city. The defenses may be ancient, but they remain strong, built to last by our ancestors who faced vastly more powerful forces.’ Her back straightened as her words took hold. ‘I have sent riders to the surrounding villages so more people, and reserves, will arrive over the next few days.’

Elodi held up a hand. ‘No need to apologize, Councilor Perdew.’ She tapped her finger on the natural harbor marked out on the map. ‘Don’t forget, we have the Celestra sitting in our dock undergoing repairs as we speak. And while we still hold the port, we can use her to bring grain and supplies from the old docks to the south.’

Elodi smiled. ‘I would expect nothing less from you, Perdew.’ She turned to the other councilors. ‘I can assure you they are able to supply us. The aforementioned riders also carried a decree to cease sending the levy to Archonholm.’ She paused as the councilors murmured.

‘Ah yes, but never in that time has the realm experienced an existential threat. This morning, I informed Archonholm I have declared a state of emergency in Harlyn, allowing us to postpone our levy in the current circumstances.’ Out of the corner of her eye she saw Wendel grin. She continued. ‘Archonholm has already invoked its emergency powers’ — she failed to prevent the smile spreading across her lips — ‘I am simply applying the same law. I have sent word to the Vice-Archon who will have to accept my decision. Produce already stacked up ready to be sent south, will shortly head to the port of Seransea to be distributed where needed.’

Elodi’s smile faded. ‘Let us trust it won’t be in vain.’ She stepped back to the map. ‘We can expect no more help from the Archon. As you are all too aware, the realms face the threat of an onslaught upon the Caerwal Gate. I cannot yet talk about the specifics, but the Archon has plans he expects will give us the upper hand.’ She eyed the wide line marking the Draegelan Trench spanning the north. ‘We live in troublesome times, but we have to stand as one against the threat. Should Calerdorn fall, the south will be open to the Ruuk. Should the unthinkable happen and the Golesh break through the gate, then Archonholm falls, we will be trapped as a horseshoe between the anvil and the hammer.’ She clasped her hands. ‘But while the challenges we face may seem daunting, I am certain we will rise to meet them.’

‘Has he spoken?’ Elodi’s footsteps echoed down the corridor as they approached the cell.

Wendel shrugged. ‘Dohl has said very little, ma’am, well not to me. He speaks all the time to himself but rarely acknowledges there’s anyone else in the room.’ He turned to Elodi. ‘I don’t see the need for you to be here. It’s hardly the place for the head of the realm to frequent.’

‘A few weeks ago, I would have agreed with you, Wendel. But much has changed in such a short time. The abomination in the wood commanded that poor wretch to end my life.’ Her pulse raced. ‘In my realm, Wendel. In my realm! I’m sure you’ll agree I cannot tolerate such an action. I want him to look me in the eye and tell me what he knows. We must find out where this creature, Uleva, has gone, and what evil deeds she’s hatching. I cannot abide the thought of her roaming this land as she pleases.’

Elodi lowered her voice as they neared the guard outside Dohl’s cell. ‘Whatever came out of those trees drove my knights to the edge of madness. We’re not dealing with a troublesome wyke, Wendel. I need to know exactly what we face.’

The guard leaning against the wall jumped to attention as if he had just woken. Wendel nodded to the young man. ‘If you please.’ He fumbled with the chain on his belt and found the correct key. The guard turned it in the old lock, put his shoulder to the heavy door, and heaved it open.

Inside, Dohl sat on a wooden stool with his head resting between his two chained wrists. Light streamed onto his thin, gray hair from a narrow aperture in the ceiling leading up to ground level. The prisoner kept his head down. Elodi stood before him. ‘Dohl? Do you know where you are?’ He mumbled into his hands. Elodi continued. ‘Then I shall tell you. You are being held in a cell in the walled city of Calerdorn. You have no chance of being rescued, and no one has ever escaped from these dungeons.’ She paced the small cell. ‘Bearing that in mind, you may as well tell us what you know, and I’ll show clemency.’ She glanced to Wendel; what that might involve, she had not considered.

‘Where?’ Elodi jumped. Dohl’s cloudy eyes stared straight at her. Her hand rested on the handle of her sword, that Wendel insisted she now carried at all times. His brow knotted. ‘Where? Where did you say?’

‘Calerdorn?’ Dohl spoke as if trying to remember. He slowly slid off his stool, kneeled and stroked the rough, stone floor. He sat back. Tears streamed down his scarred face. He whispered. ‘Calerdorn? Calerdorn?’ Elodi looked to Wendel; he shrugged. Dohl’s eyes widened like an excited child. ‘I’m home.’

Dohl sobbed, talking to himself. ‘I’m home.’ He tipped back his head, threw up his hands as far as the chains allowed, and cried out. ‘I’m home! My Lord! I’m home.’ His arms fell and his head dropped as he sagged to the floor.

Elodi crouched by Dohl’s side. ‘What should we do? We can hardly keep him in chains if he served my father. Could he also have once been a prisoner in the wood? If so, we can hardly blame him for the wrong Uleva has wrought upon him. Did he have any choice in the matter regarding his attempt on my life?’

Wendel raised his eyebrows. ‘If she can summon an apparition of drayloks to scare the wits out of Aldorman, I would have thought controlling this broken creature from a mere fifty leagues would present little challenge.’

Watches placed on the major routes into Calerdorn had yet to see signs of an invasion, but in a way, that fueled the dread taking hold of Elodi’s heart. Had the Ruuk attacked immediately after securing the fort at Draegnor, she could have disrupted such a reckless assault, even with the enemy's superior numbers. The delay signaled their intent. This would be no raid, no temporary incursion to steal supplies, or to wreak havoc and plunder settlements at the border. This time they meant to stay. Never in recent times had Calerdorn faced such a threat. Elodi was grateful for her father's tenacity when petitioning the Council to maintain the defenses, despite years of relative inactivity. The walls were in good order, and although ancient, she had working siege engines at her disposal. A messenger bird had been dispatched to Archonholm, but she doubted aid would be forthcoming.

Elodi had insisted a watch also be placed on the coast. No Ruuk had ever been known to sail, but in the light of the new weapons and tactics employed, she could not dismiss a surprise attack by sea. The deep inlet offered a safe harbor for a sizeable fleet, whether they be friend or foe. And should the enemy venture as far as Calerdorn’s docks, it would stretch her resources to breaking point, defending the city on both fronts.

Scouts to the north reported more Ruuk pouring over the border into Draegnor, no doubt chancing their luck as news of the attack on the Caerwal Gate must have reached their ears. But it was not just the numbers troubling Elodi. Sightings of huge oxen pulling dozens of large wagons, resembling those housing the weapons used at Drunsberg, trundled into Draegnor daily.

Elodi stood on the battlement above the main gate of the city. Her hands rested on the thick stone wall that had protected Calerdorn for a millennium. She looked to the snowy peaks of the Dornan Mountains as she recalled the stories of her realm in its youth. Depleted by the efforts to drive out Ormoroth and his dark hosts from the land, the newly formed Seven Realms feared a counterstrike. But despite their weakened state, her ancestors had undertaken the immense task of constructing a new line of defense. Named in honor of the Archon of the time, the Draegelan Trench spanned the narrowest part of the land separating the frozen north from Harlyn and Broon. One of Elodi’s favorite stories from the archives, told of the laying of Calerdorn’s foundation stone from the largest rock excavated from the trench. The footings of her ancient city ran deep, but could its current inhabitants honor its splendor in this dangerous time?

Elodi pressed down on the wall as if trying to fortify the stone against the projectiles the new weapons would unleash in the days to come. A gust of wind chilled her face. She turned back to the north. Her ancestors had underestimated the guile of its foe. By his dark arts, Ormoroth harnessed the forces of nature, driving snow and ice against them. For a hundred years, the cold crept relentlessly south, packing the deep trench with snow, until its span became impossible to defend against the numbers swarming across the bridges of ice.

The realms had no option but to retreat thirty leagues south, building fences and watchtowers across a hastily formed border. The dire situation called for a powerful leader and warrior, and up stepped Dorlan at their time of greatest need. Elodi’s face flushed as the young girl in her remembered the hours she had stood in front of his portrait in her father’s chamber.

Ormoroth’s forces soon came to fear Dorlan as stories of his deeds spread through their ranks. The noble knight of Calerdorn patrolled the borders astride his white stallion, Draego, leading the enemy to believe he fought in more than one place at a time. But while Dorlan frustrated the invasion, Ormoroth had waited, growing stronger, not committing his full strength until ready. And when he finally struck, he came like an avalanche, crushing all before its unforgiving, thunderous advance. Untold numbers perished in a single day as Ormoroth obliterated the defensive line, capturing the watchtowers and newly-built fortress at Draegnor.

Yet, despite the defeat, the Seven Realms could still muster a formidable force in those days. Dorlan and his knights held back the onslaught long enough for Draegelan to bring reinforcements from the south. Together, Draegelan and Dorlan formed a powerful alliance the mighty Ormoroth could not take lightly. Both sides suffered terrible losses as they fought to a standstill for every inch of land. After weeks of ferocious battle, Dorlan prevailed and broke through the right flank on the frozen plain at Draegnor. Draegelan exploited the gaps left by Ormoroth’s hordes rushing to repel Dorlan, pushing on and forcing Ormoroth to abandon his foothold and retreat behind the Trench. While Draegelan secured the border, Dorlan’s army rode on, deep into the ice-bound lands in pursuit of Ormoroth; it was said none returned.

Draegelan himself ventured north seeking Dorlan, but found only a deep rent in the bedrock, blasted free of ice. At this place, the two great rivals fought their last duel. None survived. Of Dorlan’s army, only shattered armor and broken weapons remained, strewn about the battlefield as if cut down and scattered by a single sweep of a giant’s scythe. It was said, Draegelan knew of the source of Ormoroth’s fatal blow, believing the last commander of the Evil One had unleashed a perilous, unworldly force. In the last throes of the battle, unwilling to accept defeat, Ormoroth, in an act of spite, had sacrificed himself to slaughter Dorlan and his brave knights.

Elodi’s fingers stung. She looked down to find she clutched the rough edges of the parapet. She may not be facing a force as daunting as Ormoroth, but she had neither Dorlan nor anything like the strength Draegelan had at his command. Elodi turned and gazed out across the darkening plain and imagined Dorlan galloping to the city’s aid on his mighty steed, Draego. She shook the frivolous thought from her head.

Below, a mother called out to her children. Elodi watched her progress along the cobbled alleys, visible between the haphazard rooftops nestling between the inner and outer walls. She gazed out to the plain, making a silent vow to do everything within her power to spare her people the ravages of war.

‘Your men are very brave, Ruan. Uldrak is poised to strike south at any moment. The Mawlgrim Mire to the east is no place for his heavy weapons as thankfully, it swallowed the old roads years ago.’ Elodi turned to the Dornan Mountains. ‘The only path to Calerdorn open to him is the pass.’ She placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘I am heartened by your presence, Ruan.’

‘We won’t let you down, ma’am.’ He saluted and left the battlement. Elodi watched him descend the stairs. Ninety of his men would attempt an ambush to inflict damage on Uldrak’s war machines and slow their progress. They had taken positions at a small fort guarding the Tunduska Bridge in the Dornan Pass. Elodi’s ancestors built the road through the mountains for quick passage between Calerdorn and Draegnor. Yet, in these dark times, it would regrettably prove useful to Harlyn’s foes. But her forefathers had the wisdom to foresee such a threat and had constructed a small, but strategic defensive position at Tunduska’s Gorge. Elodi had made the journey to Draegnor with her father and had admired both the bridge spanning the ravine, and the keep, hewn into the sides of the mountains. But she had wished the builders had not been so capable. It would be wise to demolish the bridge and close the pass, but Calerdorn had neither the means nor expertise to bring down the structure that had stood firm for centuries.

Elodi had bid Ruan’s men farewell as they marched tall under the banner of Broon, proud to support an ally in need. She had been both impressed and disturbed at their determined faces as they departed with the knowledge their ambush could likely result in their death. But she had no choice. Commanding an army meant making tough decisions, decisions Elodi could not avoid. And each war machine his men destroyed would improve their odds on breaking the expected siege.

‘It’s written in the old tongue of Lunn. He’s obviously cautious about it falling into the wrong hands. I hope you don’t mind, I asked Gundrul to translate. I assumed he could be trusted with its content.’

‘That’s four weeks from now!’ Elodi found herself staring south. ‘Our world will change, Wendel. What we’ve known for centuries is to come to an end.’ Her eyes followed the line of the mountains. ‘Things will never be the same.’

Elodi sat on the edge of her bed and covered her eyes. She collapsed back and let out a long sigh as the weight of command pushed her down into the soft bedding. But her body refused to let go of the responsibility. Shortly, the Archon would unlock the Caerwal Gate, a gate that had protected them for over three hundred years would be thrown wide open to whatever lay beyond. She pictured Bardon at the head of the fleet and hoped he would make a better sailor than she had managed. The night they had spoken of their doubts for the Archon’s plan seemed so long ago, but the doubts remained fresh. If the Golesh had received word from the spies the Castellan believed operated in Archonholm, would Bardon be able to put ashore? If the landing went as planned, what awaited them on the route through the Lost Realms to the old capital of Elmarand? And once the gate opened…? Elodi’s stomach sank through her back. The very existence of the Five Realms lay in the balance. She could do nothing to change events at Archonholm, but she had to hold Calerdorn.

Elodi sat up, convinced she would not sleep. She sought for a ray of hope among the gloom. The Celestra! She could be thankful for the fine ship from the glory days of times past. Calerdorn’s carpenters had done the city proud, completing the repairs to the satisfaction of Helmsman Horace. He had taken the role of captain and set sail with his crew to Seransea to collect valuable supplies in readiness for the siege. The men and women of Dorn’s reserves still streamed into the city, swelling the population two-fold, making the supplies from Seransea crucial. Reluctantly, Elodi had decreed half of the reserves from all over Harlyn come to Calerdorn and the borders. She knew this would create fear in the realm, but should her city fall, the enemy would be free to sack the smaller, weaker settlements to the south. She had watched farmers, blacksmiths, millers and old guards arrive with their makeshift weapons, but all had looked determined, and under Gundrul’s command, she trusted would give a good account of themselves in combat.

For days, the sounds of hammers tapping, and ropes straining had filled the city as engineers tested the ancient trebuchets. In the squares and every free space, her reserves honed their skills under the watchful eye of Gundrul, Ruan and Roold from the mines. All around the city, people bustled, preparing for the days ahead, and oddly, it gave them hope. They were not powerless. They could make a stand against the evil seeking to take their realm.

Elodi walked to the window. Outside, the quiet courtyard belied their situation. The watches on the pass, roads and seas maintained their vigil. Nothing could move within twenty leagues of Calerdorn without the knowledge of her scouts, but still Elodi remained uneasy. Aldorman’s account of his encounter at the edge of Durran Wood gnawed at her insides. While the city stood a fighting chance against conventional weapons, what could they do against the dark forces sighted at the wood? And what had become of Uleva?

A tap at the door drew her back from the window. Bardon? No, of course not; the entire length of the Five Realms lay between them. Her guard called through. ‘Ma’am, the Chief Advisor wishes to see you. Shall I grant him entry?’

Elodi led him to the table. ‘No need, I doubt I will sleep this side of dawn.’ She picked up a bottle. ‘Would you care for a glass of wine?’ She grinned. ‘Just a little something I brought back from Archonholm.’

Wendel frowned. ‘Something Dohl has been muttering on about. The warden wouldn’t give me the full story, but when pressed, he said it relates to a pledge known only to those who’ve taken it, and he wasn’t prepared to break that oath.’

Wendel nodded. ‘I’ll give him that. But while Dohl appears better physically, he’s still muddled in the head.’ He leaned back and massaged his neck. ‘I found a way to influence his thoughts without having to ask a direct question. He continues to talk to himself, but I believe he’s aware of more than we suspect. It’s as if another lives inside his head, and dear old Dohl reads these thoughts like a book.’ He smiled as if pleased with his tactic. ‘I plant a word or two in his mind, and, within a minute, he comes across it, and then off he goes. The words pour out as if recited from a scroll. Quite revealing.’

‘Or the Age of Shadows, as they call it in Broon.’ She smiled. ‘Yes, I do prefer their name. But that’s beside the point. Do we also have a gap in our records, Wendel? I’ve never had cause to delve so far back.’

He nodded. ‘You have to consider the devastation wrought by the struggle. When the Golesh ships extended their raids up both our coastlines, it stretched resources to breaking point. Possibly half of all people in the realm perished. Of those surviving the battles, we know from word of mouth, famine, disease, and sadly, despair, struck down many. I’m amazed we have any records from those dark times at all, and those written, make for disturbing reading.’ Wendel’s nose wrinkled. ‘Not recommended if you’re in need of a good night’s sleep, ma’am.’

‘Then I will forgo the pleasure, it’s been too long since I’ve had an undisturbed night.’ She remembered the reason for her question. ‘Then am I to assume if this Uleva creature is a survivor from the Lost Years, we are unlikely to find any mentioned of her in the scrolls?’

Elodi stared down at her wine. ‘Worrying indeed if this creature has endured from those times. She would be at least three hundred years old, and I should imagine she has not been idle in that time.’ Elodi lifted her glass and took a sip. ‘Does Dohl speak of where she may have gone?’

Wendel sighed. ‘He talks of a stronghold in the east but hasn’t revealed the exact location. However, I’m not sure we can trust everything this man has to say.’ He scratched his head. ‘I believe what we witnessed in his cell yesterday before he collapsed, was a rare moment of clarity. He may have lived here once, but there’s no mention of him in the records. Although, it’s quite possible, Dohl, is a nickname from his days as a guardsman, or he’s forgotten the name given at birth and made up a new one.’

She almost dropped her glass. For a moment, Elodi wanted to believe him. She would dearly love to hear a morale-raising story from the Archon’s last stand. But she knew in her heart that was not going to happen. She sat back. ‘Oh, the poor man. He must be repeating the stories from his mother’s knee.’

Elodi stood, walked to the window, and spoke to her reflection. ‘We have to find a better place for him, Wendel. Father spoke of the incursions into Durran Wood he had sanctioned. But he lost too many men, and eventually he forbade entry. The missing would have been presumed dead, but that may not have been the case for all of them. Dohl must have been one of those lost.’ She turned to her advisor. ‘This man deserves our gratitude. He must have been in that dreadful place close to fifty years, it’s no wonder he’s as muddle-headed as he is.’

The warden straightened, trying to regain his breath. ‘The prisoner’s broken free of his chains, ma’am. He’s yelling, cursing and hurling himself against the walls of his cell. He sounds in great pain. But that’s not all.’ He glanced from Wendel and back to Elodi. ‘Ma’am, I don’t know how to say this but… the prisoner no longer looks like the man we chained up.’