A MESSAGE FOR THE REGENT
Captain Kralan of the Myrdonians pulled his horse alongside Brock Alder and Rom Alder (the elder male of House Alder and brother to Mother Alder herself), as they rode near the head of the brigade, a thousand soldiers lined up behind them.
“Our scouts report that the outer town is partly evacuated, the gates are closed, and the walls are heavily manned.”
“They've been tipped off,” said Rom. “And they mean to fight. This adventure will be much harder than we had hoped.””
“Let's ride up for a parlay,” said Brock.
“You will not talk your way past those walls, nephew,” said Rom. “Blood will spill afore we set foot inside.””
“The blood shall be theirs,” said Brock. “We have the weight of law behind us. The writ issued by the High Council appoints me as legal regent of Dor Eotrus. I will take my rightful place.”
Rom shook his head, but said nothing more.
***
“Sir Sarbek,” said a guardsman as he dashed toward him, panting from having run all the way from the main gate. “A troop of soldiers approaches from the south.”
“Who and how many?” said Sarbek.
“Lomerian regulars, by the look of it. A few companies at the least. Perhaps a full brigade.”
Sarbek looked surprised.
“A coincidence?” said Ector.
“When's the last time a brigade of Lomerian regulars came calling on Dor Eotrus?”
“Never, as far as I know,” said Ector.
“Aye, so it's no coincidence. They've got wind of the trolls somehow. There may have been other attacks farther south.”
“Then they’re here to help,” said Ector. “We should let them in, shouldn’t we?”
“No. Let’s not be hasty about such things. If they were really coming to help us, we’d have gotten ravens, and we haven’’t. So something is not right about this. Let's go talk to them. Once we sort them out, we can decide what to do.”
A short while later, Sarbek, Ector and Malcolm Eotrus, and Sir Indigo stood atop the wall above the south gate of the Outer Dor, which was some thirty feet above the ground beyond. Men were hauling stones and placing them in piles supported on dunnage beams that spanned from parapet to parapet to avoid overloading the slab. Other men were setting up hearths to heat water or oil. They were preparing for a siege. But not one initiated by the soldiers that marched toward them. They feared an attack by the trolls that had destroyed Mindletown and nearly wiped out Ector's patrol.
The brigade marched toward the gate, the lead men only two hundred yards away and closing fast. Aligned in orderly rows, their helmets enameled red, they were a sea of gray and red tabards embossed with the standard of the Lomerian guard — a white tower on a field of green. Most were on foot, and wore armor of chain links. Squadron after squadron marched in step, disciplined, and with purpose. Beyond them, in the distance, wagons aplenty burst with supplies and equipment, including ladders of great length — fit for a siege. Amongst the troop were several squadrons of heavy cavalry, barded and adorned. At the fore of the troop, a squadron of Myrdonian Knights that looked regal in their emerald green armor, their weapons finished to match. Amongst the vanguard rode Brock Alder, soldiers in Alder livery clustered about him. Beside him came Rom Alder and Dirk Alder (eldest son of Bartol Alder), adorned in gleaming blue armor of unusual design. Then came several Alder bannermen — named men, admired and feared for their exploits.
“They demand that we open the gates forthwith,” said Indigo, “but they will not reveal their purpose. They're carrying Alder standards as well as those of the Lomerian guard. That means that the chancellor sent them.”
“Any mention of trolls?” said Sarbek.
“No,” said Indigo. “Bald Boddrick rides with them.”
“The Backbreaker?” said Sarbek as he peered out at the troop of soldiers. “I see him, even from here. Big as a bear and twice as ugly.””
“We should go down and speak with them,” said Ector.
“Should we now?” said Sarbek. “Those men out there haven't happened by to ask after our health, you know. Boddrick is one of the Chancellor's chief bullyboys. If he's called him into action, he's planning trouble. That means Boddrick's whole gang of cronies will be with him: Sentry of Allendale, Black Grint, Bithel the Piper. Maybe even Gar Pullman. Those are killers, every one. They're here for a knife fight, not tea and biscuits. If they’re not hunting trolls, then they’re after us. Why they might be looking for a fight with the Eotrus is what I'm wanting to know. And if so, why come with only one brigade? It's an insult, it is. Best we speak with them from on high,” he said. “You agree?””
“Aye,” said Ector, weakly, his face pale. “It would seem wiser, all things considered.”
Sarbek turned toward the watch captain of the gate. “Get every crossbowman and archer you can find atop these ramparts as fast as you can muster them.”
The watch captain dashed off.
Sarbek moved to the centermost section of the wall, leaned forward, and stared down at the five men on horseback that waited before the gate.
“Guardsmen only,” said Sarbek to the others. Then he spoke to the horsemen. “You men, go tell whichever Alder is in charge back there to get his butt up here and speak his peace. Otherwise, the gate stays closed.”
The soldiers stared up at Sarbek for several moments, taken aback, uncertain of what to do. After conferring for a few moments amongst themselves, they turned their horses and rode back to the main troop. Several minutes later, they returned with two others.
One was forty or so, slight, and finely dressed with a broad brimmed hat. The large man at his side wore the heavy armor of a knight, but to which order he belonged was not clear. The five soldiers lined up behind them; one carried the Lomerian standard, another, that of House Alder.
Sarbek looked them over and then turned toward the Eotrus brothers. “The dandy is an Alder for certain. I don't know his face, but I imagine he's one of the younger sons, or an older grandson or nephew. The knight is likely his bodyguard or one of their bannermen. Let me do the talking. Agreed?”
The Eotrus brothers nodded.
“Who goes there?” shouted Sarbek.
“I am Brock of Alder,” he said. “Duly appointed emissary of the crown. To whom do I speak?””
“Sir Sarbek du Martegran, acting castellan of Dor Eotrus, and Knight Captain of the Odions.”
The guards behind Brock glanced at each other at the mention of the Odion Knights, no doubt because they were the most feared militant order in the realm. Each Odion, it was said, was a match for five normal knights.
Brock stared at Sarbek, as if expecting him to call for the gate to be opened, or at least to say something more. But Sarbek just stood there staring down at him. After a time, Brock spoke again. “The gate, sir,” he said, pointing to it.
“Speak your peace from where you sit,” said Sarbek.
Brock’s brow furrowed; a look of disdain on his face. “I bear a writ from the High Council in Lomion City,” he said. ““To be read to the Eotrus brothers and the Dor's castellan.”
“We're listening, Mr. Alder,” said Sarbek. “So read it.”
If looks could kill, the stare that Brock leveled on Sarbek would have left him as little more than dust. Brock handed a scroll to the lead herald; he unfurled it and began to read it aloud on Brock’s behalf.
“For heinous crimes, various and sundry, including but not limited to: assaulting a duly appointed officer of the realm, resisting arrest, and murder most foul, Claradon Eotrus, son of Aradon, is hereby declared and confirmed before all goodly citizens of the realm, and before the gods themselves, an outlaw of the State.””
Gasps of alarm and disbelief came from all along the wall.
The soldier continued. “He shall be arrested on sight by any and all loyal and true agents of the realm, and executed outright if he dares to resist this just and lawful writ. Furthermore, all Eotrus holdings, property, livestock, currency, and all other items of value and consideration are hereby and irrevocably forfeited, in their entirety, to the crown.””
“And furthermore, Mr. Brock Alder, sixth son of Mother Alder, Matriarch of that storied and honorable House, is hereby appointed sole and supreme Regent of Dor Eotrus, commander of all Eotrus forces, and sovereign of its people, until such time as the Council sees fit to appoint a permanent regent or confer the title of Dor Lord upon an appropriate person in good standing with the crown.”
“As such, all Eotrus forces are ordered to stand down and to submit to the command of the new Regent immediately. Failure to do so will result in charges of treason and summary execution upon the Regent’s discretion.””
The soldier rolled up the scroll and handed it back to Brock, who placed it inside his coat, a smug look on his face.
“Now Sir Sarbek,” said Brock. “Open the gates. As is customary, I will provide you with copies of the warrants for Claradon Eotrus's arrest, as well as those that have been issued for his cohorts: the gnome, Ob A. Faz; the hedge wizard, Par Tanch Trinagal; and the foreign knight, Theta.”
“What have you done with Claradon?” shouted Ector.
“No one has done anything to him,” said Brock. “As far as I know, he remains on the run from the law —— an outlaw, as the writ said. Now, open the gates. I will not ask again.”
Sarbek stared down at Brock, his jaw set, his eyes hard and cold.
“What do we do?” said Malcolm quietly.
“We're not handing them the Dor,” said Ector.
“If we don't let them in, the bastards will lock us all up for treason,” said Malcolm.
“Give me that,” said Sarbek to Indigo. In one fluid motion, he snatched the heavy crossbow from Indigo's hands, pointed it toward Brock, and fired.
The bolt flew true. Brock’s eyes widened, though he had no time to react. The bolt struck him amidst the forehead and blasted out the back of his head. There were gasps of alarm from the men on the wall and from the regent's group. Brock teetered on his horse, mouth agape, for a few seconds before his body tumbled over and fell to the dirt. The horses reared, the soldiers spitting curses.
“Dead gods,” said Ector, his eyes wide, his mouth open. “You killed him.”
“Darned right, I killed him, the bastard,” said Sarbek.
Brock’s soldiers turned their horses in a panic and bolted. The big knight with him stared up at the wall, his visor down, his identity unknown by the Eotrus. Eotrus crossbowmen stared back, their weapons pointed at him.
“Do we take him?” said Indigo.
“No need,” said Sarbek. “The message has been sent and received.”
Rom Alder stepped down from his horse, picked up his nephew's body, and draped it over Brock’s horse. He took his time about it. He moved slowly, deliberately. Once back on his horse he stared up at Sarbek and the others, though he said nothing.
“That one has too much faith in his armor, I think,” said Indigo. “My bow can pierce it. You have only to give me leave.””
“No,” said Sarbek. “There's still a chance that it will end here. That chance goes away if we keep shooting. Let him go.””
“Why did you kill him?” said Malcolm. “The Chancellor will not let this go.”
“You heard him,” said Sarbek. “They carry a legal writ to take the Dor; to take everything that you own, everything that's yours by right, everything that your family has worked for, for centuries, even your good name. And they wouldn't have stopped there. They would have arrested you and everyone close to you too. Maybe even killed you.”
“What will they do to us now?” said Ector.
“What more can they do than that?” said Sarbek.
“They can send an army, instead of a single brigade,” said Ector.
“Let them come,” said Sarbek. “Let them come with an entire corps. If we're lucky, the Chancellor will lead it himself. If we kill that bastard, maybe the Republic will get back on track. Not killing him when he had the chance, was the biggest mistake your brother ever made. The biggest.”
“Maybe without the Alder leading them, they'll withdraw,” said Malcolm.
“I doubt that,” said Indigo. “They had to know that we wouldn't turn over the Dor to them. They must have reinforcements on the way.””
“Who knows what's in the minds of an Alder?” said Sarbek. “Plotters and schemers, every one, going back generations. They can't be trusted except to be untrustworthy.”
“What about the trolls?” said Ector. “Most of the soldiers out there are not Alder men — they're Lomerian regulars. Shouldn't we warn them?”
“They'll never believe us,” said Indigo. “Especially not after Sarbek's ‘message’.”
“But we should warn them all the same,” said Ector
“There are not enough trolls out there to menace a whole brigade,” said Sarbek. “Not by a long ways.””
“We don't know how many there are,” said Ector. “What if more come? That's what we have been expecting, and planning for, since we got back, isn't it? That's why we've been moving people into the citadel and bolstering the guard, preparing our defenses.”
“Aye,” said Sarbek.
“Then we should warn them,” said Ector.
Sarbek stared at the Alder troops for several moments before responding. “To Helheim with them,” he said. “Every one of them what the trolls kill is one less that we will have to deal with and vice versa. Let them wipe each other out. Better for us.”
“I don't think father would approve,” said Ector.
“Maybe not,” said Sarbek. “But staying put and letting it play out may be the best way to keep the Dor in Eotrus hands.””
“Saving them from the trolls would be a help too, don't you think?” said Ector.
“I'm sorry, boy, but it wouldn't,” said Sarbek. “By the time the Alders got done twisting the story, they’’d say we sent the trolls down on them. They’d say the trolls were working for us. And then we’d probably be accused of conjuring them up by witchcraft or some such. In any case, there would be no credit coming our way, I'm certain of that. Let the trolls have them, I say, and shed no tears over them.”
“You're a hard man, Sir Sarbek,” said Ector.
“It's a hard life,” said Sarbek. “Especially up here in the north. You've come to know that more than most in recent times. Best we worry after our own and not these usurpers.”
“What will they do now?” said Malcolm as they watched Rom Alder ride back to the troop with Brock’s body.
“Depends on who is in charge,” said Sarbek. “Boddrick will have his say, so will whatever Knight Captain commands that Myrdonian squadron. There will be a captain over the regulars as well. Which of them, or some other, is actually next in line of command, we don’t know. More than likely, they'll debate things for a time back in their camp, trying to sort things out, come up with a strategy. But if whoever is in command is a strong leader, he might come at us straight away, any minute now——”
“With everything they have,” said Indigo. “Out for blood and vengeance.”
“He'll be hoping for a quick breach of a gate,” said Sarbek. “To catch us with our pants down. If he doesn't get that, he'll pull back and wait for reinforcements. If they don't come right at us, that means that they've got a cautious man in charge — a thinker. A man like that will prepare a siege, and only come at us in his good time, when he has the men to do it, if he comes at us at all; he may try to starve us out.”
“Or else, maybe they've got a fool for a leader or maybe two or more men what don't agree, so they won't do anything for fear of a fatal mistake,” said Indigo. “They know they're outnumbered here and that we have a strong position. If they've any sense at all, they'll siege us and wait for more men.”
“Is there a chance that they'll just pull out?” said Ector.
“Only if they're led by a coward,” said Sarbek. “Which is possible.”
“They won't pull out,” said Indigo. “That one,” he said, pointing at Rom, “will come at us, one way or another. Not just a bodyguard, I think.”
“But they don't have enough men to be a threat,” said Malcolm.
“Not to the citadel,” said Sarbek. “But the Outer Dor is vulnerable. We don't have the manpower to fully cover these walls —— not without our bannermen. But I'll not cede the Outer Dor to the Alders or to the trolls. It's the lifeblood of our community.”
“Then let's get everything we have out here,” said Ector, “leaving a reserve only on the main walls and within the citadel. We can fall back there if necessary.”
Sarbek looked surprised. “Your father would've advised much the same. I will make it so.”