The Sudarnian Chronicles: Forged by Flame

FORGED BY FLAME:

THE SUDARNIAN CHRONICLES

By Nancy A. Hansen

A Hansen's Way Book

Published by Pro Se Press at Smashwords

This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters in this publication are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No part or whole of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing of the publisher.

Copyright © 2016 Nancy A. Hansen

All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chapter One

They came at suppertime, just as the demons in Sarita’s dream had.

Soldiers in dark armor with the Younger Duke’s red banner rode over the dusk-darkened green hills. They raced arrogantly through the fields, trampling crops and slaughtering the cattle.

The boys were bringing in armloads of firewood for the evening and morning fires. They dropped their burdens and stared in disbelief. Teresina, the ruddy skinned, rawboned hill-woman their father had brought home to help the boys’ sickly mother, had just gone out to the well to draw water. When she saw the mounted men, she ran back into the house, beating the pail with a ladle to spread the alarm.

Bad men are coming! They have weapons and a flag the color of blood, she reported breathlessly, her accented voice filled with fear and her dark eyes wide. She drew her daughter Sarita behind her protectively. Her people had often dealt with sudden slaver raids. Only six yearturns past, her current employer had traded a good horse and a sack of potatoes to buy her and her baby’s freedom.

They’re destroying everything! solidly built Nicholas said hotly, banging the door open. Always the bolder of the brothers, his teeth were grinding and his brown hazel eyes flashed as he hustled inside with a stick of wood held like a club. His thin and quiet-spoken older brother Ethan said little, but his face was pale and his shifting colored eyes appeared haunted as he trooped in behind Nick.

You threaten your betters, they have rights to kill you, Teresina snapped as she took the stick away. Nick’s hands balled into fists and his face was flushed.

Well they have to be stopped!

There’s no stopping them, said the weary voice of a man seated at one end of the table. The gentry do as they will, and have the soldiers to back that up.

Can’t we talk to them—tell them we are loyal subjects of this realm? their slight and pale mother said in a trembling voice. Rising from a chair where she had been scraping food scraps into a bucket for the pigs, she brushed wispy blonde hair from her furrowed brow, and her dark rimmed, watery blue eyes shone with unshed tears. Mathias, I am frightened!

As well you should be Eveleen! the brown eyed father shouted as he pushed himself away from the table one-handed. Bah, I’ve been expecting this since Ormond the Senior passed over, he continued tiredly once he was on his feet, with that same square-set jaw line and fierce expression as his youngest child. "First the taxes doubled, then tithes were raised… His overly-ambitious whelp has been buying an army, and he obviously wants us gone. The Old Duke was an honorable and just man, but his Dark-hearted successor is a kin-killer and a liar. He’s sent these ruffians to take away everything that was granted us. If we resist, they’ll slay us and burn the buildings.

Stay here, he added in a fierce whisper, as the voices outside grew louder and more boisterous. I’ll see if they can be reasoned with. He stomped out the door, the rest of the household cowering close by so they could hear.

What Matthias saw out there made him snarl with fury!

Men rode purposefully; trampling their mounts through the terraced wheat and barley fields on the hill. They shouted and whooped to each other as they shot arrows at sheep or ran spears through the fat, bawling, red-eared white cattle in the pastures below. They paid little attention to the angry man in the dooryard or his family peeping out behind him to stare dumbly and open-mouthed with disbelief. Could this really be the soldiers of their Duke, sworn to protect them from all enemies?

Ho—what are you lads running about for? Mathias called out, keeping the indignant wrath from his voice with some effort. I’ve paid my taxes and all my tithes. This land is Freeman owned! I earned it against the Carlinths with my arm, he added, brandishing the left stump that ended just below the elbow.

The soldiers weren’t listening, nor did they care to. It’s no longer your land, serf! someone shouted back, and they all laughed.

Mathias stubbornly stood his ground while they rode at him. He flinched only briefly as arrows pattered into the door frame around him before they turned away, scattering squawking chickens. One of them swung a mace down, clubbing the farm dog snapping at their heels. Another man coming up behind impaled its spasmodically kicking broken body on his lance before tossing the limp creature aside.

There was more whooping in the distance and it seemed to catch the mounted men’s attention. A chorus of high-pitched screams and rough shouts came from down the lane as smoke billowed from the direction of the holding of the nearest freeman neighbor. He was a loud and burly man with three young daughters and a comely wife. Most of the men rode off in that direction, laughing and looking for good sport.

Mercenaries, the lot of them—the kind of rabble whose loyalty could be purchased until the coin ran out.

We’ll be back for you later. Make sure you don’t touch any of the Duke’s property, commoner, the soldier that seemed to be the leader of the group said. He hooked a wineskin over his shoulder and took a deep draught before slinging it back over the saddle pommel and whirling his mount to canter off again.

The former soldier’s shoulders slumped in defeat. They were obviously uninterested in anything but his land, so that was as good as gone. Now that the reins of government had been turned over, Matthias would be lucky to escape with his life, since it was publicly known he had supported the father against his estranged son. If he stayed to fight for his rights, he’d dance on a gibbet somewhere and the people of his household would be turned out as beggars.

The family withdrew indoors and the father followed, shutting and barring the door behind him.

Matthias, what are we going to do? Eveleen implored, her eyes wild. She grabbed his good arm, but he shook her off. There was no time for hysterics.

Out into the root cellar, the lot of you! he barked at them, shoving the laggards roughly ahead. Follow Teresina and go quickly and quietly. I’ll come for you when I can.

He went outside again and after watching the mounted men growing distant, herded his family through the doorway of the dugout cave where the cold stores were kept. Now stay put, and keep silent! he warned them in a fierce whisper. He took up a great barrel of beer and slammed the door shut with one foot, making the entire stone and wattle structure vibrate. Teresina barred it from the inside.

It was cold, damp and dim in that low lying place. Even if they had brought a candle, they would not have dared risk the light. The great wooden door and the surrounding earth and rocks made it impossible to hear what happening in the house. The mother knelt uneasily in one corner, her head bowed. Her light blond hair fell all around her thin face as she mumbled prayers and sobbed quietly. The two boys and Sarita huddled together like frightened puppies while Teresina hugged them close and sang softly to them. Time seemed to drag on interminably, and the air was stuffy and smelt of wet soil and turnips. Fear lay thick, like a suffocating blanket over all.

I knew something bad was coming, I knew it, Ethan muttered darkly. No one ever listens, but I knew it! When Sarita dreams things, they always come true.

Hush, or I will whip you myself, Teresina warned him. This is no time for such foolish talk!

*****

Hours later it seemed, Mathias came back. Recognizing his tread, Teresina undid the door. After being in the darkness for so long, even the faint light of the hooded lantern he carried, with the bail over his shortened arm, hurt their eyes. He was dirty, as though he had been rolling in the pig sty. He limped and his clothes were torn. One eye was badly bruised and swollen almost shut. Needless to say he was in a foul temper.

Come out here and get to work you bunch of ninnies. Don’t sit there like lumps! They have had their sport with me and at least now they’re all dead drunk.

Eveleen lifted her head from her constant prayers. She drew in a shuddering breath at the sight of him. The battered man glowered in her direction and then continued lighting candles to pass around. Mind the fire with these and don’t drop them in the hay. I made sure that they spared the horse, the market wagon and oxen. We should go while they are all back at their camp sleeping it off. Time to pack, he told them bluntly. Get moving!

The mother started sobbing and she stumbled forward weakly. We’re leaving? But Matthias, this is our home; I do not wish to go!

Eveleen, it matters not what you want! He was furious and took a few steps toward the cowering woman, shaking his finger in her tear-streaked face. This is our home no longer and we are lucky to be getting away at all. I had to bargain for our very lives! He was shouting by then and yanked her outdoors by one thin arm, propelling her forward. Get yourself busy woman. All of you get to work!

The others shuffled past him with heads down. Eveleen, go quickly and find things we may want for a long journey. Have Teresina assist you. Don’t take anything we won’t need, he called after the two women as they hurried away, the hill woman’s strong arm supporting her frail and sobbing employer’s wife. The big eyed, quiet little girl clung to her mother’s skirts.

Mathias grabbed another barrel, and tucking it under his short arm, strode past them. His good hand cuffed his sniffling sons.

Stop blubbering like babies and act like men! Get my horse saddled and the oxen harnessed. Throw some canvas in the bed, and an axe and saw, for we’ll rig a covering once we’re out of sight. Be silent as ghosts or you may rouse those devils. It was work enough getting them besotted. I want to be many hours down the road before they awaken and go poring around in there. He jerked a thumb back toward the house. I am going to leave them a cask of wine to cool their tempers when they come back and find us gone.

He hoisted the barrel to his shoulder and strode stiffly off down the path. Make haste tonight, for our lives hang on it. I would not be surprised if more of those demons arrive here by dawn.

*****

They left within the hour, never to return. They had been traveling ever since, looking to make a new life somewhere else. Like many others of the now landless class they met along the way, they headed north through unfamiliar country.

When they had crossed the borders of Ormond Duchy holdings, Mathias decided to take the old Westering Road that ran like a thin and crooked scar through the heart of a thick forest toward the Tauntine Mountains. Others had advised against it, but he felt it could not be any less safe in the higher country. They headed northwest toward the mountains—northwest to a new life.

Like the other displaced freeman farmers in the land around them, most of what they had worked so hard for was left behind. Still, they were luckier than some. They had been able to keep the wagon, the oxen, and the horse. They had a little food left and just enough tools to start over again.

They would put down roots again somewhere outside of Ormond the Younger’s rapidly expanding duchy, which was threatening to become a kingdom of its own.

Chapter Two

The jagged peaks of the Tauntine Mountains rose eerily up around the castle of Sudarnia, appearing to be afloat in the thick morning mist. King Alfred shivered involuntarily in the early autumn chill as he stood looking over the battlements below the Northeast Tower. The cold got to him easily these days, making him long for the warmth of his bedclothes again. Still, out of long habit, he insisted on seeing the sun up whenever he could. It was just climbing over the top of Dragon Tooth’s sharply pointed, gently curved pinnacle; the growing warmth pulling up thick swirls of fog that rose from the dense forest below. He knew that over on the southwest side of the small castle that straddled the rocky rise between the up-thrust surrounding peaks, the verdant valley spreading beneath the lower walls would still be shrouded in darkness. No doubt the farmers and fisher-folk would be up and about their chores already. Well, good for them! Alfred’s aching old bones were not up to this sort of weather anymore; not that he would ever admit that aloud.

Always the early riser, said a disembodied voice from somewhere behind him.

A warrior’s habit.

The hoary king restrained himself from jerking in surprise. He slowly turned to favor the stealthy, long-bearded wizard now standing at his side with an arch and appraising look. It must be the magick, but the dark eyed man with his long gray locks hidden beneath a hooded cloak of dun wool didn’t appear to be a dayturn older than when they first met and he still moved like a cat. When did you get back in?

Late last night. I thought it would be best to wait until this morning to see you, after we both had some sleep. I think better on a rested mind.

I see you got my message then. Thank the Elf for me. Never one to mince words, Alfred got right down to business; his hands gripping the moist stone before him as if it would disappear with the drifting billows of mist. Well? What are we going to do about this new menace?

The wizard looked out over the emerging tips of woodlands below as the fog began to thin out in the rising warmth. That is a difficult question to answer, since I’ve been away for the better part of three yearturns, he answered evasively as he scanned the half-visible peaks around them. I saw nothing on my way in, nor could I sense it. You’ll have to continue to hunt it by conventional means for now.

Blast it man! the king said as he thumped a fist full of gnarled and calloused fingers down on the stone blocks before him and was instantly sorry when it made his knuckles ache. You’re no help at all. That beast is wiping us out at a time when hungry refugees from the southlands are pouring over the border looking for food and farmland. I’d go after it myself, were I twenty yearturns younger. I haven’t a man here that can track and hunt dragons the way I used to, and winter is not that far off. If it has bred here–

We’ll be overrun with them come spring. I know that Alfred. I will do whatever I can now that I am back.

That is a goodly part of the problem. You’re always off somewhere else when we need you.

It’s part of my calling. In any event, I am here now.

I’m sure you will think of something brilliant, now that you actually have time for us, Alfred retorted peevishly.

Many realms have no dedicated mage Alfred, the wizard reminded him, keeping his voice calm with some effort. They would have to find more conventional means of locating and fighting this one.

I find enchanters are most dedicated to their own personal goals, the other man replied in a sour tone. So I’ve called a Council Meet for a week hence. Members have been drifting in for several dayturns now. We will put an end to this—one way or another.

They lapsed into a stubborn silence. The mountains were vast, steep, and treacherous. Sudarnia was a prosperous though small monarchy with good allies, but they didn’t have the resources to cover all the possible territory. Too many of their financial assets had been diverted.

Truth be told, the wizard didn’t much like being absent at all, but events in the northlands had pulled him away far too often these last twenty yearturns. Now with his previous apprentice established as the wizard assigned to the northwest frontier, the High Mage Kendahl could rest his ancient bones in one place for a while. Unfortunately he found no peace for himself in Sudarnia, as the king listened too often to the counsel of fawning deceivers. Alfred had been ill-advised into taking a very young, foolish, and hard to please bride.

I’ll see what I can do, Kendahl promised. At least he had no more apprentices to deal with.

Yes, you’d better come up with something, because you’re barely worth the coin it takes to retain you here. I could get a first rate court magician with finer clothing and prettier words for half what I pay you. It was said in a fierce tone, though half in jest, for the pale blue eyes held a hint of mirth.

But then he wouldn’t be as straightforward as I am, the wizard countered smoothly, knowing he was only being chided.

Too true, my old friend, the king said in a lowered tone. Too true. I should have remarried long ago and produced some viable heirs, as someone kept telling me.

Yet you never listened.

"No, I did not, the king snapped. Are you happy now that I’ve admitted it?"

Not especially. Kendahl’s weathered face bore little trace of emotion, though he smiled inwardly at Alfred’s blustering tone. He had known this man since he was a screaming brat on his mother’s knee and the wizard was used to his ill-tempered grumbling. The white bearded old monarch had surrendered physically to his advancing age, but his irascible nature remained intact. If he was in a foul humor it was because lately he had become more interested in the comfort of his bed than in verbal sparring matches with his most trusted advisor.

Today however, the wizard was not in a mood to be rushed. A little fresh air, and some time away from ever-demanding Lavinia would do Alfred good. The Queen has not been breeding at all while I was gone?

No, Alfred stated flatly. It is possible she is barren, but more likely I am incapable of producing heirs at my advanced age. Either way, we’ve had no luck. I am thinking I should find a fosterling from a realm I could make an alliance with and declare him heir. What do you think of that?

The wizard sighed. Let me help you chose.

Of course. Otherwise I would not have mentioned it. Now to this other, more pressing issue…

They spoke quietly for over an hour.

*****

The family had been traveling for several weeks and the motion of the covered wagon had grown tiresome. It rocked and swayed on the rutted forest road like a ship at sea, jarring the children painfully every time it hit a stone or pothole. Ethan sat in the very back with his chin in his hands and his elbows on the rough wooden tailgate, staring moodily into the rich green tangle of woodland that closed in on either side. With all the bouncing around, Sarita’s endless chatter and Nicholas’ constant complaining, it had been hard to concentrate today. Not that it would make much difference. No one was going to believe him if he said they were being followed. He’d likely get another beating for just mentioning his strange ability again.

He wasn’t in a good frame of mind for reaching out with his mind today, for he had not gotten nearly enough sleep last night. Sarita’s dreams had been intensely disturbing. She had awakened him by crying out in alarm and Teresina had to shush her before she woke Nick and his parents as well. As tired as he was, Ethan was having trouble shaking off the lingering dread he had felt ever since, and the little girl’s recounting of the nightmare hadn’t helped. She said their wagon was crossing an ocean made of liquid gold when a great ship with leather sails had plunged out of the heavens, raining fire and brimstone down upon them. At that point in the dream, a fog had come up, and all was lost. The rest of the nightmare had dissolved into nameless terror.

Ethan shuddered involuntarily. He forcefully shook off the uneasy feeling that this creation of Sarita's unconscious mind was also supposed to be a warning, like the dream she had a couple of moonturns ago, before the soldiers came and they had to leave their home. He crossed his arms over the tailgate of the wagon and put his head down on them, staring out at nothing, attempting to clear his mind. No one saw the silvering of his eyes as Ethan forced himself to focus on something other than his fears.

He had been trying to concentrate all morning and was ready to give up. The wagon bounced him around too much, and the other children were making such a racket he couldn’t tune their noise out. Still he was fairly sure something was out there. The mysterious folk who had been furtively tracking them still prowled unseen through the trees and underbrush. They had been following the wagon for days, almost since the moment the oxen had entered the dank gloom of this great forest. Nobody else in the family appeared to have noticed anything amiss, because the silent watchers never showed themselves. No one but Ethan could sense them.

These were intelligent beings and not animals, but Ethan was reasonably sure that they weren’t soldiers. He had worried about that for days, but the fuzzy impressions he had been getting were too small for such heavily armed men, and all appeared to be on foot. No one had attempted to overtake the wagon and halt them, and that was a huge relief. Ethan and his family had heard many tales of hardship caused by the indifference of the young