Sovereign's Wake Page 23

  “What has to be done?” Novas asked.

  “We have to liberate Amatharsus, of course. To free Berault and to save what remains of its people,” Lord Cross orated.

  A single note of laughter escaped from Garreth, and he shook his head. Kayten pursed her lips and looked at Lord Cross while Novas bowed his head; none of them were particularly keen on the idea.

  “You cannot give up now. We must retaliate before Lord Vyse strangles Amatharsus into submission for good. The rebellion needs you!” Lord Cross pleaded, throwing up his arms.

  “The rebellion had me! They rebellion had us. The rebellion had every man and woman in Amatharsus willing to bear arms to restore the kingdom, and we all failed still. What more can be possibly asked of us!” Garreth shouted as he pointed around the room at Kayten and Novas.

  Lord Cross waited for Garreth’s outburst to fade.

  “The threat of the Blackwoods is a problem that affects all of Malquia. It is truly unfortunate the citizens of Amatharsus had to meet the brunt of their collective power. We must not unite only the people of Amatharsus, but all those believers across the entire land who demand change. The call to action is going out now as we speak. I sent Behn to the Glass Hills, Eyrn to the Stoneshores, my own son to Bouldershade, and many other contacts to additional towns and villages. You will see before the day is through that this rebellion is far from over,” Lord Cross uttered and stood.

  Lord Cross took to the door, opened it, and then stood under its open frame.

  “Tonight, we will meet again in the tavern. Bring your wits and your resolve. All of Malquia will need them before the end,” Lord Cross concluded before stepping through the threshold and closing the door.

  The three watched him through the window as Lord Cross made his way to the intersection and disappeared from view.

  “Is he serious?” Kayten questioned.

  “Only time will tell,” Garreth grumbled as he lay back down upon the bed.

  Novas watched from the window as carriage after carriage began to pull up beside the Broken Kettle and unload their passengers, who promptly surveyed the area and made their way inside the tavern. Garreth and Kayten were finishing the cleaning from the evening meal of stewed rabbit with field herbs and bread courtesy of Jorge. The sun was setting as Novas continued to peer at passersby. There seemed to be a range in ages to those travellers from young men like Novas to gray and hunched crones years beyond Berault. If the number that Novas was keeping was correct, the tavern would soon be overflowing with people. When the door to the tavern opened, Novas could see the patrons inside standing shoulder to shoulder as if his estimations were true. Out of the door came the familiar figure of Lord Cross, and he wandered across the street to the door of the smithy and knocked three times again. This time, Garreth answered the door without raising a sword at their visitor.

  “We are ready for you now,” Lord Cross announced with a wave of his hand towards the door of the Broken Kettle.

  “Ready? For me?” Garreth stood with a curious look upon his face.

  “You know who you must be. If not for us, the people of Malquia, do it for him,” Lord Cross announced.

  “Very well,” Garreth nodded and waved to Novas and Kayten to join him.

  As Garreth crossed the street, he looked down at himself. He had still had stains of blood on his shirt, plenty of holes within his cloak, and his stubble was looking particularly ragged. Would he be able to convince all these people, Garreth thought. Could he be the voice of Berault, of the King?

  Lord Cross entered the tavern first, which was far more occupied than any of them had ever seen it. With men locked hip to hip at the bar, women around the tables, and folk standing in groups on the open floor, every spot in the place was spoken for. As Garreth entered the room however, the tavern went silent, and every person had their gaze upon him. As the fire crackled and popped, Novas and Kayten followed him into the tavern and looked about at the people observing Garreth. To their satisfaction, the two spotted Behn, Eyrn, and Master Cross leaning against the back wall. Garreth made his way to the center of them.

  “Master Garreth! As promised, a brew for yee,” Jorge called out with a snap of his fingers and drew Garreth towards the bar.

  Garreth made his way to the bar in through the silent room, and the men parted way so Garreth could grab his drink. As Garreth reached out for the glass, Jorge pulled him close by the arm and drew him close.

  “Do not let the past defeat yee,” Jorge whispered to him and then released Garreth.

  Garreth nodded, surprised with the innkeeper’s eloquence, and took a deep sup of ale.

  “Wise words,” Garreth replied and then finished the rest of his ale.

  Garreth walked back to the center of the tavern where Lord Cross was waiting.

  “Men and women, merchants and labourers, elders and councillors, masters and journeymen… I present to you, Garreth, hand of the rebel leader, Berault, and former champion of our late, great King,” Lord Cross declared with a bow and a wave of his hand.

  Garreth gave a curt nod to Lord Cross and then clenched his closed fist in front of himself.

  “I need not remind you of the tragedy that has struck our fair city, or the loss of our allies, families, and homes in attempts to liberate it. For the same chilling reminder of our failure… my failure has not left my sight since those arrows rained down upon us and darkened the skies and our future. Surely, word has spread to your homes of the vanquished rebels and the terror released in their absence. The beatings, the robbings, the hangings, the murders… far more chaos than what followed the death of our king. I beg for your forgiveness, the rebels and I were unable to keep such horror at bay and spare the innocent from such a fate,” Garreth began.

  “I can only wish that you have not travelled this far with indifference in your hearts, for the tyranny of Lord Vyse and his Blackwoods will know no bounds in Malquia. When the plunder of Amatharsus is done, his reaping reach will find its way to your homes. Your choices will either be complete submission or complete destruction. It is true the rebels of Amatharsus fell against the might of the united Blackwoods, but this is not a problem solely belonging to our capital. No, we need the valiant and courageous men and women from every corner to every shore of Malquia to stand and fight before this land is plunged into further darkness. When every person in Malquia shares my same burning heart and when every person knows they must resist or perish only then can we defeat the Blackwoods entirely,” Garreth explained with a rising tone.

  “Let the call ring out to all corners of Malquia. Tomorrow, the fate of our kingdom will be decided. When our bravest soldiers take the field of battle, I will shed my fear and lead us to this ultimate end. Any fate you would resign yourself to from inaction would be far more terrible than falling in battle tomorrow as you fight for your beliefs, the ones you love, and the land that bore you. With the might of a united Malquia, together we will break the shackles of Vyse’s treacherous machinations!” Garreth announced and raised his fist to the air.

  He spun about and looked at the crowd who answered his plea with continued silence and a judging gaze. From the back of the bar, a single peel of applause rang out, then two, and then three. Following the example of Master Cross, Eyrn, and Behn, soon many fists reached towards the ceiling, and the tavern was filled with applause. The crowd rushed in on Garreth, and soon he was met with support and salutation.

  “Fear has dominated these people for too long. They all showed much hesitation in standing up to the Blackwoods. Even after they arrived, the tension and sorrow was so thick in here you could cut it with a knife. I think you have finally given them hope though,” Master Cross stated.

  “Yes. He has done exactly what has been needed to be done. Tomorrow will bring about an absolute triumph or our complete destruction, and I think the people would not have it any other way. Berault would be proud,” Lord Cross added, slapping his son on the shoulder.

  “Damn his pride! Let’s just res
cue the bastard before they take his head,” Garreth demanded.

  The gathering nodded in agreement and began to converse about tomorrow’s strategy. Across the bar, Novas and Kayten had met Behn and Eyrn and were nervous to learn news about their friends.

  “Well, I managed to get Cern out just fine. No thanks to you, Novas,” Behn chided.

  “Despite his protests, Behn just tossed Cern over his shoulder and carried him out as fast as he could. I made sure Tamil got out safe as well,” Eyrn added.

  Novas and Kayten shared a glance and sighed in relief.

  “That’s great to hear,” Kayten replied with a smile and the nod of her head.

  “They won’t be joining us tomorrow, however. Still too weak from their stay in the dungeons. I don’t blame them one bit,” Behn explained.

  By the time they had finished their conversation, some of the attendees of the meeting had already left, leaving the far more guarded and well-equipped travellers to brave the night journey home. The inn only had so many rooms, and much to Jorge’s delight, the tavern was filled to capacity.

  “Luckily for us, Lord Cross booked us a room earlier this morning. And with that, I will be off,” Behn told them before he placed his tankard upon the bar and stumbled up the stairs to his room.

  “I suppose I should turn in as well. Busy day tomorrow,” Eyrn explained.

  “Farewell then,” Kayten and Novas offered as the two soldiers departed.

  Novas and Kayten turned back to survey how Garreth was faring. He was still surrounded by well-wishers and strategists alike and was busy planning tomorrow’s assault on Amatharsus. The two did not wish to interrupt them and retired back to the residence of the smithy. They both took up their places around the fireplace and began to finish the leftover bread from supper.

  “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Kayten asked, looking down at Novas from the height of the bed.

  “Well, of course. Despite the overwhelming support from the crowd, I am still wary about engaging the full strength of the Blackwoods again. It was our haste to save our allies in the previous battle that spelled such disaster. By falling into that trap, my single-minded want to protect our allies cost us more than I’ll ever admit. I hope we approach tomorrow with a better plan, and I’m glad I’m staying out of it,” Novas explained as he looked into the fire.

  “I’m quite nervous about tomorrow too…” Kayten began but was interrupted by Novas.

  “You can’t be serious about fighting tomorrow. In your condition? You’re hardly any better than Cern or Tamil. You’ve barely been out of the dungeon longer than them,” Novas exclaimed.

  “Well, I was thinking about it,” Kayten suggested and was shocked at Novas’ outburst.

  “Well, don’t think about it. I won’t allow it. If anything were to happen to you again...” Novas spoke, trailing off.

  “Novas…” Kayten uttered.

  “Although it was your choice to leave the Crossroads, Garreth and I still agreed to take you from the safety of your home and from the people that you knew. While we only had a small understanding of the danger of the Blackwoods, we still brought you with us to the city, and we became responsible for your protection. We lost you once, and our failure burned us both. You cannot do that to us again,” Novas explained as he stared into the fire from his place on the cool floor of stone.

  “If you insist,” Kayten said with a sigh and fell back upon her bed.

  As she looked to the ceiling, a smile was on her face.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Inside the smithy, the three woke early the next morning. Even in sleep, they could do little to take their minds off the trial ahead. But it was the outbursts of conversation and greeting that awoke Garreth in particular. As he rose from the bed and looked out the window, he could see archers with cloth and leather armour and swordsmen with their mismatched chain and plate mail waiting outside the taverns for their leaders or masters. He watched a wagon of them disappear behind the Broken Kettle and head east from the Southbriar Crossroads to the rendezvous point.

  “Time to awake. They cannot start without us. I will be back in a minute with some grub,” Garreth announced as he opened the door and made his way over to the tavern.

  Novas made us way off the cool floor began to stretch out his limbs after the hard sleep and then noticed Kayten peering at him as she rested in the bed.

  “Daylight’s a burning,” Novas chided as he met her glare, continuing to stretch out his arms and turn his neck.

  “Is that so? I could hardly tell with today’s weather. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere to be,” Kayten mumbled and then hid back under the covers.

  Novas smirked, made his way over to the window, and then peered about. He stared up at the gray clouds that only allowed slivers of deep blue sky to peer through. The road was still shaded light brown and was relatively dry, but dew still clung to the grasses next to the tavern, and a light mist hung above the ground. As Garreth exited the tavern, Novas met him at the smithy door and opened it, shepherding his father and the food inside.

  “If we had the time today, I would have liked to bring back a meal from the hunt, but Jorge tells me the inn has almost emptied, and we cannot be the last to the gathering, not at all,” Garreth explained as he placed the cloth-wrapped goods upon the table.

  As he opened the cloth tie, a hunk of bread rolled out of the packaging and across the table while a partial ham shank and a block of cheese remained stationary. At the promise of food, Kayten leapt out of bed. The three finished their meal with gusto, toasting the bread and melting the cheese to their satisfaction. As Kayten was the last to finish eating, she watched as Garreth and Novas attached the rest of their clothing and bound their swords, bows, and quivers.

  “The time has come,” Garreth announced as he finished his preparations and then donned the golden tan tabard of the Crown Aegis.

  “And I’m back where I started,” Kayten pouted as she raised her hands and looked around her home.

  “Do not fret, you need your rest. Father and I will make sure this is not the end of your journeys,” Novas explained.

  “Fine. Do what you must,” Kayten said as she fell down onto her bed again, hiding her face.

  “Goodbye now,” Garreth offered and stepped out the door, Novas following close behind.

  Kayten sprang out of bed as soon as the door had closed, watched the two hunters disappear from view around the corner of the tavern, and then sighed.

  Novas and Garreth took the road headed east from the Southbriar Crossroads. Last night’s committee had decided not to approach Amatharsus from the Great South Road, which was the most open and predicable route. Instead, they agreed to approach the city through the forests on the eastern side of the city and storm the northwestern gate leading to the Upper Quarter. While the majority of participants leaving from the Crossroads had opted to take the winding road to the rendezvous using horse-drawn wagon, Garreth planned to trek over the fields and through the forests in order to make it there covering much less ground. After travelling on the road east for some time, Garreth led Novas off the road and headed almost directly north onto a grassy plain where the gentle wind pushed around the foggy mist like the billowing sheets of snow from the winter that seemed so far off in Novas’ mind.

  It was not long before the two travellers came across the Fenross River, and they took a short detour east, looking for a way across. Instead of finding a fallen tree trunk, Garreth spotted a beaver’s dam stretching across a narrow part of the waterway, which was in turn supported by boulders that were still craggy at their emergent peaks but smoothed near the water’s passage. As they made their way over the natural obstacle, they were wary of the slick texture of the dam’s barkless branches and the slippery surface of the splashed boulders. The river’s crossing continued without incident and soon the curving hills and the light forests that were typical of the Amatharsan area awaited them.

  Garreth and Novas trekked north until they coul
d see the walls of Amatharsus in the distance and then continued until the city became directly west of their location. There, Garreth took Novas into the thicker forest east and began to search for the rendezvous point. From the grassy plain onto the edge of the forest, there was a gentle decline as they entered the woods. Before long, Garreth spotted the scouts waiting downhill, and he was amused to creep up on them unaware. As soon as Garreth pointed them out, Novas took to the game as well, and they crept from tree to bush to fallen trunk until they were only several measures from the scouts themselves when Garreth and Novas appeared with their hands in the air.

  “Hold! Who goes there!” one of the scouts bellowed and reached for his sword.

  To Garreth’s dismay, he did not appear to be one of the men he conversed with last night.

  “I am Garreth. This is my son, Novas. We are part of the assault today. Could you consult someone in the camp to confirm this?” Garreth asked, nodding towards the deep forest.

  The scout became a shade red-faced from having the hunter tell him his job but maintained his pride and ordered the second scout to keep his bow trained on the two while he ventured off into the woods. He was back a few moments later, waved them inside, and then took up his place as watchman again.

  The two made their way through the woods to the staging area where a small fire burned and a collection of soldiers gathered around the blaze. From their position uphill, Garreth could still see the combatants making their way from the road east of the rendezvous point. There were more troops there than Novas had ever seen at the courtyard. The two made their way down to the fire where they spotted Behn, who was the only one dressed in full plate mail.

  “It’s about time. A lesser man would have been worried,” Behn remarked with a stiff wave as Garreth and Novas approached.

  “I wasn’t worried at all,” Eyrn replied as he twirled his sword around, rested the edge upon the palm of his gauntlet, and brushed its edge with his fingers.