Chapter 5: Fort Rigwald     Chapter 7: Phantom Ship

 

    Chapter 6: Turning Traitor

 

    We rode south the next two days, passing through the hills of the Grado Highlands. On the third day we approached the port town of Bethroen, which, if we could charter a ship, would take the army directly to the main highway out of Tai’zel on the southern coast to Grado Keep. On the second day, the earthquakes started. Grado was usually rocked by earthquakes every once in a while.

    Vanessa, scouting the third morning, brought us the layout of the terrain and confirmed that it was the same as our maps.

    “Bethroen Port is a pair of small islands connected by bridges to the mainland,” she reported. “The main road we’re on runs straight there. On the western island are the town and the docks. On the eastern island is a fortress, I think to protect against pirates.”

    “And probably us, too,” I commented a little drily.

    “To the north of the town is another village only a mile away.”

    “That probably won’t figure into our plans,” Syrene said contemplatively. “Did you see any enemy units?”

    “No, ma’am! There either are no opposing forces, or they’re still in the fortress.”

    “Better suppose they’re in the fortress,” I said. “It’s highly unlikely they’ve not figured out where we’re going; Rigwald pointed our direction clearly enough. We’ll move in quickly, but cautiously.”

    “Right away, sir,” Syrene said, saluting, and went off to make preparations to move out.

    I rubbed a hand over my face and clapped my hands together, stretching as I got up. “Good work, Vanessa.”

    “Thank you, milord!”

 

    We were only a few hours away from the villages and it was getting close to lunchtime when we arrived on a little cliff overlooking the sea about a mile away from them.

    And fighting.

    “What on earth is that?” I asked, pointing at distant figures swarming between the fortress and the southern village.

    Syrene squinted. “I’m afraid I can’t tell, Lord Ephraim…”

    “Pirates or the Grado Army, something’s entirely not right. Let’s get down there! Ride!” I ran along the path at the top of the cliff, lance in hand, to the place where the road pierced the cliff down to the islands. I heard Syrene stifle calling my name; she was probably going to ask me to wait and explain what I had in mind.

    “Just trust me! I know what I’m doing!” I called back to her.

    Enemies, soldiers of the Grado Army, met us at the bottom of the hill. We charged through them without trouble.

    “Milord! Two pirates to the west, wyvern riders to the southeast!” Syrene called from the air above me.

    “Swoop down on the pirates to the west!” I shouted back. “We’ll worry about the wyvern riders once we get closer!”

    “Understood!” she called, sending Vanessa off to deal with the pirates. Her younger sister had just grown confident enough to begin wielding a sword in battle. That would give her a serious edge over the pirates.

    “They’re chasing someone down,” I murmured to myself as I came closer to the main action. “A ‘deserter’, perhaps?”

    A little closer, and I saw who it was.

    “Duessel!” I bellowed.

    My old teacher, with his mane of grey hair and his heavy crimson armour, on his huge old warhorse, looked up at me, startled. “Prince Ephraim?”

    “Duessel, what’s going on?” I called to him, running across the bridge, cavaliers and axe-men with me. I pole-vaulted over a small barricade with my lance and came down with a heavy thud, stabbing an enemy swordsman and knocked the wind out of another with the haft. He came riding up to me, hacking down a third swordsman with his huge silver axe. “Why is the Grado Army attacking you?” I asked him. ”…Wait, hold that thought. We’ll get you to safety first, and then we’ll talk.”

    Duessel seemed lost in thought, only attacking if someone attacked him first, or if someone attacked me from behind, or if someone attacked one of the very few knights who were following him bravely. “Duessel!” I barked at him.

    “…I was General Duessel, the Obsidian of the Imperial Three…” Deussel answered slowly. “This title, this service to his majesty, have been my life’s blood. Now I am branded a traitor to the crown. As of this moment, all that… gone. There’s no reason to continue this madness…”

    “Duessel…” I said sympathetically, but then my voice grew strong. I needed him; Grado still needed him! This kind of talk was uncharacteristic of my teacher, and I would snap him out of it, no matter how harsh it would sound. “Enough of this rubbish! You are my mentor, and I will not let you die! You will live. Yes, called a traitor… in disgrace… a fate, to you, worse than death. But the emperor is mad – what good will it do your country if you die? What of the people? The future!?”

    Duessel absorbed my words, his eyes fixed on my face. “…I understand,” he said at last. “This old fool’s life is yours, Prince Ephraim.”

    I breathed a sigh of relief and grinned at him. “That’s better. A bit. What are we facing?”

    “Sele- General Selena, the Fluorspar of the Imperial Three, has been sent to kill me for my treason against Grado. My knights are still with me, but I believe we are facing General Selena and General Valter, though I think Valter left. I saw his wyvern flying away north. A ship also left just before he did, probably to bring news to the capital.”

    “I see,” I murmured. “Well, let’s drive them back, convince Selena to stop fighting, and start putting an end to this war – together!”

    “Understood!” Duessel grunted. “Your orders?”

    “Send your knights to defend that village from pirates. Vanessa! You and those three swordsmen – back them up. Duessel, Syrene, come with me. We’re heading to the fortress with everyone else.”

    What was left of the Grado Army around the fortress was already weakening. The fortress itself was heavily guarded by swordsmen and archers. The wyvern riders had been dealt with already. I called Syrene down to fight on the ground and led the charge with Duessel thundering along behind my left shoulder. The man on horseback in charge of the gate spat in the dirt as we approached.

    “Prince Ephraim of Renais… General Obsidian the traitor… Two incredible trophies.”

    “I’m notta trophy,” I told him, gritting my teeth and spinning my lance. “That sounds like something Valter would say.”

    “Beran,” Duessel growled. “He does serve Valter.”

    “That would confirm that Valter was here earlier.”

    “General Moonstone was indeed here,” Beran sniffed. “But he left after General Fluorspar was called back to the capital. I am the one to cut you down to size. Enough talk, now! Fight me!”

    “Gladly,” I replied, lunging forward. Deussel was right behind me, and Syrene was right behind him.

    The fight against Beran was difficult, though I managed to kill his horse first off. I didn’t like killing horses; they were intelligent beasts, and mostly, not vicious like wyverns. But it helped me against him a lot.

    He managed to parry most of my attacks, but Duessel simply swept in and gave a sweep of his axe that left Beran’s sword arm slashed wide open. His face pale, the enemy general stumbled back and vanished around a corner. I followed, but he had gone. Not even a trail of blood to tell me where my enemy had gone.

    The rest of the Gradonians, seeing Duessel and Syrene, surrendered without much of a fight.

    “So where’s Selena gone?” I asked once we gathered in the main hall of the fortress.

    Duessel, instead of answered, chose to give me a bear hug. After a moment of surprise, I returned it.

    “Prince Ephraim, it’s been far too long. You’ve grown to be quite the impressive commander,” he said gruffly.

    “Thank you,” I replied. “My being alive I owe to your instruction in the lance, Duessel. Tell me, why are you being pursued by your own troops?” Duessel looked away and did not answer. I put a hand on his shoulder – he was still about eight inches taller than I, darnit – and pressed. “Speak to me, Duessel. I want to put an end to this war. I must know.”

    Duessel put his thoughts in order, different expressions flitting across his craggy face. “As you know, the emperor is – was – a man of compassion. Always seeking to do the right thing for his people and country and to keep peace sovereign. But one day all of that changed.” His voice fell away again.

    “But why? Why did he change?” I urged.

    Duessel shook his head. “I wish I knew for sure. But I have a theory. It seems that trouble first started when Prince Lyon and the Royal Mages created a gemstone they referred to as the Dark Stone.” I wrinkled my nose. What an unoriginal and ominous name. No wonder everything went wrong. I looked down and saw that Myrrh had come in and was standing close by my side. I patted her shoulder. “I’m just a soldier. I don’t know anything about these magic things. But they said the Dark Stone might have more power than the Sacred Stones. Those Stones that had the power to seal away the Demon King.”

    “If the Dark Stone is stronger than they are…” I murmured, unease growing in my mind. “Do you think it is the cause of Emperor Vigarde’s madness?”

    Myrrh tugged on my sleeve. “Ephraim… the evil power… it hungers and consumes. It can tarnish the purest of souls with its breath.”

    “So… yes, then,” I said a little drily, looking down at her again. “The timing, does it fit?”

    “The Dark Stone was created about five months ago,” Duessel said, counting weeks on his fingers. “Yes, that’s it. We mobilized for nearly three months and-“ he winced, “-invaded Renais a little less than two months ago. Six weeks.”

    “Seven,” I replied. “I spent six weeks in the field with Kyle and Forde… …and Orson, before he betrayed us. Then Eirika came to get us less than a week ago. I think.”

    “Five months is correct,” Myrrh whispered.

    “Then- Duessel, where is the Dark Stone now?” I asked.

    “In the capital, with Prince Lyon,” Duessel answered. “He’s never put it down since the day it was created.”

    “I see… I’m going to the capital. Perhaps if I talk to Lyon he’ll listen to me… and we can help Vigarde.”

    “I’m going with you,” Duessel said.

    I gave him a worried look. “But we’ll be fighting your own men.”

    “Thank you for your concern, Prince Ephraim, but I’ve already been branded a traitor. The only way I can serve Grado now, is, ironically, by serving you.”

    “Thank you, Duessel. I’m glad to have you with me.” I gave him a smile.

    He bowed and went to speak to his knights, the ones who had defected with him and who were now standing in the background of the room. “Men, I owe you an apology. You’ve followed me faithfully and I’ve betrayed you to Frelia.”

    One of them, the oldest, saluted crisply. “You speak nonsense, General! We are your men to the end. We’ve trained under you, fought beside you… lost mutual friends… shared good times in the mess – we are your loyal soldiers to the end. If you join Frelia, so shall we.”

    “My brave men,” Duessel said gently, proudly. I thought I heard a slight sniffle from him as he turned his head away from them. Syrene came to speak to me about the wounded in the battle, but I could still hear Duessel. “Bah, I’m getting sentimental in my old age…” I couldn’t help but smile at that.

    “Please, sir, give us permission to join the Frelian army.”

    “Permission granted. We’ll ride together, just as we always have, Prince Ephraim willing.”

    I held up a hand to pause Syrene and turned towards Duessel. “Permission granted here, as well. You have my respect and my gratitude. Thank you.” The knights bowed, and Deussel led them out of the hall.

 

    Bethroen Village was strangely quiet the next day. The usual bustle about the docks, small as they were, was non-existent.

    “What’s wrong here?” I asked after a near-fruitless hour of searching for the captain of a ship large enough to carry the army. “Of the six men we’ve found, only two were willing to give us passage. They seem… afraid. Anyway, tell the men to take a rest. It’ll be a while before the ship’s ready.”

    “Yes, sir,” Syrene answered.

    “I can answer your question, master,” a small girl with pale green hair said, looking at me with innocent brown eyes. “They are afraid.”

    I looked down at her in confusion. “Pirates? Storms?”

    She shook her poofy green head. “No… there’s supposed to be a ghost ship sailing around out there…” she shivered. “So it’s probably best that you don’t go, either. A ship from Rausten set out from here a week ago in search of it, but it hasn’t returned yet. No one wants to go anywhere while there’s a ghost ship on the seas.”

    I knelt down and looked her in the eye with my head cocked to one side. “Thank you for the warning, but we’re warriors. We’re not afraid of the ghost ship. If it attacks us, we’ll defeat it. And if we find the Rausten ship, we’ll help them.”

    She looked at me sadly.

    “Prince Ephraim, the ship has arrived,” Syrene said from behind me. “I will go and alert the men.”

    “Thanks… Syrene,” I said, standing up and giving the solemn little girl a last look before heading off to the dock, Reginleif firmly in one hand.

 

Chapter 5: Fort Rigwald     Chapter 7: Landing at Taizel

Chapter 4: A New Journey     Chapter 6: Turning Traitor

 

    Chapter 5: Fort Rigwald

 

    It was dawn over the hill country just south of Frelia. Commander Syrene and I were standing on a small cliff overlooking the back of a small and interestingly-looking castle.

    “Fort Rigwald, huh?” I mused. “Who built it, do you know?”

    “I am afraid not, Lord Ephraim. I can see why you asked, though. The gate on the south leads directly into a long covered passage filled with arrow-slits. Any enemy who breaches the gates is instantly in a killing ground. The back walls are impervious, and there is no back gate, so the front gate is pretty much the only way to get in and capture the place. It has stood unconquered for generations.”

    “And to capture the place, we’ll need to take out its commander, who will probably be in the throne room of the keep. If we don’t, then they’ll fall on our rear as we try to assault the capital.” I looked lopsidedly at her. “Do you think we can do it?”

    “It’s a daunting task,” she admitted. “The enemy not only has those formidable defences, but the advantage of numbers as well.”

    “But what about morale?” I asked.

    “You think they may not want to fight?”

    “This is the emperor’s war. Renais and Grado have always been close allies and friends. The hearts of the people cannot be so swift to change. I know that General Duessel, my old lance teacher, is loyal as an old dog can be to the crown… but he also opposes this war. I’m sure he opposes it with every fibre of his being. I wonder if he’s in there. I could ask him what’s going on with the emperor.”

    “Optimism here may be deadly,” Syrene said sternly. Then her face lightened. “Still, it’s a much better idea than attacking Grado’s main army face to face.”

    I smiled at her and thought. “I think it would be a really bad idea to ask our pegasus knights to create a diversion… they’re sure to have thought of that. Let me see… here’s what we’ll do.”

 

    I marshalled my troops. “All right, listen up! We’re going to bust down those gates and head inside, as quick as we can! Rush the throne room and kill their commander. That may force the other side to surrender. I’ll give more specific orders as we get into battle. Understood?”

    “Yes, sir!” responded my army.

    “Well, then, move out!” I led the way, running down the hill. After a few minutes, by which time we were already in the shadow of the castle, arrows came hissing out at us.

    “Watch yourselves!” I called to the pegasus knights. Syrene waved back.

    We reached the gates to find a small group of the enemy guarding them. I charged them, cavaliers rushing around me. Syrene and Vanessa swooped and took out a few archers that might have been a problem.

   The gate cleared. “All right, come on, come on!” I snapped. “Axe-fighters, up here! Get at this gate!”

   Vaguely in a corner of my mind I wondered why, if this place was the jewel of Grado’s outer fortresses, it didn’t have a portcullis. That would have been handy against us.

    The gate splintered and we were inside. In the same corner of my mind, I had the idea that that had been too easy. But now we faced the ‘corridor of death’.

    “Right! Follow me!” I cried, darting down the corridor, plunging my lance into an enemy cavalier on the way down. Arrows and fireballs – fireballs? Mages were not good news – shot out at me from the arrowslits in the walls, but I was too fast for them. “Round the corners! Get behind them, and take out the archers!” The cavaliers followed me, except for one who had a sleep spell cast on him. His buddy, a large axeman, dragged his horse away before he could get skewered by an arrow. I held the end of the corridor against the soldiers pouring out of the depths of the fortress, several swordsmen beside me. Gilliam and some other armour knights came up more slowly behind us.

    “Archers clear, sir!” a cavalier saluted.

    “Then tell the pegasus knights to get in here and get to the dungeons. Free any prisoners, especially those who wish to fight with us. The rest of you, with me!”

   Syrene swooped past me, taking out a shaman with her javelin. I heard gasps from the defending enemies and came to a sudden realization.

    Some of the soldiers fighting us were mere children! Not only did they not want to fight, but they shouldn’t even have been drafted in the first place, much less cast out onto a battlefield.

    “Hey, troops!” I bellowed. “Listen up! Try to knock out your enemies rather than kill them!” I crooked a finger at two lancemen near the back of my formation. “You two. Your job is to tie up those who are knocked out or who surrender. Understood?”

   “Sir, yes sir!” They saluted and began bickering over rope. They eventually came back with several large coils they had found in the guard room beside the gate.

   Vanessa came back from the dungeons. “We’ve rescued quite a few Frelian prisoners, including Julia-“

   “Who’s she?”

   “One of our pegasus knights. A messenger, normally. Anyway, there are tons of enemy reinforcements down there.”

    “Pull back,” I said immediately. “We’re heading for the throne room. We’ll gather all our side in there and demand that they surrender after we kill the commander.” I led the army swiftly to the right, then to the left. Two axemen tried to get in my way and I clonked them over the head with Reginleif. Up the stairs, then left, then right, and then I was in a large chamber with skylights and pillars. A fat pig sat on the throne at the end of the room, his tiny eyes wide with apprehension.

    “Protect me!” he demanded of the recruits standing around him. “I cannot be allowed to be killed!” He burped.

   “You’re going down!” I called to him, dodging the clumsy stabs of the recruits. “Monks, myrmidons, attack him! Gilliam, help me with these recruits!”

    Gilliams heavy armour would protect him from the recruits’ lances. I, on the other hand, would have to keep dancing around to avoid getting hurt. I was getting a little tired.

   “Gwah… No!” cried the commander, standing up and swinging a huge axe around him, keeping the two slighter built myrmidons clear.

   “I guess his fat helps him lift it, eh?” one of my swordsmen chuckled to the other, bounding up over the throne behind the commander, taking a piece out of his shoulder in an impressive display of acrobatics. The commander snarled in rage. Light magic burst around him, weakening him. One swordsman lunged forward, hunched low under the axe, and stabbed him in the belly through his leather armour, then darted back to wait.

   “It’s only a matter of time before he falls over now,” the other myrmidon replied.

   It seemed the commander knew it too, because he sank to his knees, groaning and cursing. Eventually he fell forward and lay still.

    Everything ground to a halt.

    Then I felt a sharp jab in my side from behind and stumbled forward, grimacing in pain.

    I whirled around, half-raising my lance. There hadn’t looked to be any threats among those I’d been distracting… “Hey! Who did that?”

    A terrified, wide-eyed little girl, clutching a bloody lance, stared up at me. “You’re Prince Ephraim, aren’t you?”

    “Yes, yes I am,” I said, rather amused despite my wound. “Why?”

    “Commander Gheb was horrible to us. But… but… I don’t want to be a prisoner of Renais and Frelia, either!” The other recruits around her, boys and girls barely in their teens, nodded with her.

    “Why’s that?” I asked. Father Moulder stepped up behind me and healed the stab wound. I nodded my thanks to him.

    The girl hesitated, gripping her lance tighter until her knuckles turn white, then looked back at me and blurted out: “Because I was told you send female prisoners to work in the castle as slaves! And they get kicked around and beaten and have to do the worst work possible! And the male prisoners have to work in the fields in chains!”

    I flung my head back and laughed. “No way… where did you hear that?”

    “It’s true, isn’t it?” she pressed innocently. “My captain told us that. Why are you laughing if it’s not true?”

    “It’s not true,” I assured her. “I’d never do a thing like that. I promise, if you surrender, we will treat you all with all respect.” I grinned. “Besides, we have our own people to clean castles and grow food.”

    “Oh,” she said, looking down with a crimson face.

    I patted her pauldron’d shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. Sometimes people lie in war to get other people to fight. But I’m going to try and clear that all up. Chin up, now.” She flinched at my touch and I wondered if I’d overdone it. I looked back over my shoulder. Who could I put in charge of these kids? “Vanessa.” She snapped to attention beside her pegasus. “Would you take care of this group, please? Keep them out of the way for now, until we get confirmation that the castle is secured.”

    “Yes, sir!” she answered, and went to stand over by the recruits. They looked enchanted by the pegasus, although some looked frightened.

    Syrene came in, also leading her pegasus. “Lord Ephraim, the castle has surrendered. We are confining the prisoners to the barracks and confiscating their weapons.”

    “Good,” I replied.

   “All right, this way, please,” Vanessa said to her little group, beckoning them on. “We’ll get you comfortable in the barracks. Are any of you hungry?”

    Syrene and I smiled after them. Then I schooled my expression back to business. “Get me one of the senior prisoners. I want some questions answered. Stand down the troops, too.”

    “Right away, sir.”

    I waited, pacing slowly through the keep alone. My lance leaned against the throne. Eventually, Syrene and Gilliam returned, bringing a Grado captain with them. His hands were unbound and he was still in armour.

    “I’m going to ask you some questions,” I told him. “You may remain silent if you don’t want to answer. However, if you wish this war to end swiftly, you will tell me what you know.”

    “I understand,” the solder replied readily. “…I will answer your questions.”

    “Why has Grado invaded Renais?”

    “I don’t know,” the soldier answered firmly. “This war began on the emperor’s orders. Soldiers on the end of those orders haven’t the foggiest idea where we’re going with them. Except that it’s not exactly welcome.”

    “Well, then… do you know where General Deussel is?”

    “Last I heard, he’s in the capital. He pleads with the emperor daily to stop the war, but the emperor just ignores him. They say some are questioning the general’s loyalty.”

    “Is that so…” I murmured. “Well, it looks like he’s the same and as true as when I knew him. And Prince Lyon? What’s he been up to during all this?”

    The soldier paused and I felt the room grow cold. “According to rumours,” the soldiers said at last, “The prince is the one who convinced the emperor to start this war.”

    I turned sharply to face the soldier. “What did you say?”

    The soldier shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know where he’s been or who he’s been with. All I know is what I heard, from a friend in the capital.”

    “That’s ridiculous!” I hissed, turning away from the soldier. “I know Lyon well! He would never agree to all this bloodshed, let alone trigger it!”

    “Prince Ephraim,” Syrene said from behind me. “Please calm down!”

    I turned back to face her and the prisoner. “I’m sorry. …You’re dismissed. Thank you for your help.” The soldier bowed and left with Gilliam.

 

    That evening I stood on the walls with Syrene, looking down the road we would take tomorrow. “We’ll leave the fort and the prisoners with part of the Frelian army. We’ll press on to the capital tomorrow. At some point we’ll find either Deussel or Lyon, and then we can try and clear up this whole mess…” I ran a hand over my face.

    “Understood,” Syrene responded. “But I have misgivings, my lord… the general and the prince are men of Grado. We could be forced into conflict with them…”

    “It won’t happen,” I said firmly, propping my chin on my hands. “I know them both very well. We’re friends, comrades… but don’t worry, Syrene. If it comes to battle, I won’t hesitate. I’ll fight and kill anyone who opposes me.”

    She shivered. I wondered how grim that had sounded, saying I’d cut down my childhood best friend if he tried to get in my way when I was trying to end the war. “I understand, my lord. I only ask that you not throw yourself into needless danger.”

    I gave her a crooked smile. “I hear you. Now that my father is gone, I have to be King of Renais… when I return to it. The decisions I make affect more than my own life.”

    She nodded. I frowned for a moment, remembering something I had to do. “Do you know if Myrrh’s around?”

    “I don’t know. Shall I look for her, my lord?”

    “No, don’t bother. I’ll find her.” I headed down, through the fort, and out the gate to a nearby hill.

    Myrrh was there, watching the sunset, like I thought she would be. “Hello, Ephraim. How are you?”

    “I’m very well, thanks, Myrrh. I’ve been thinking about something. I need you to go back to Frelia with the returning portion of the army. It’s too dangerous for you to come any further.” I left unsaid the part where I thought I’d brought her too far already.

    “No,” she said softly in her little voice. “I can feel my lost dragonstone from ahead. And… the dark energy, it still flows unchecked from the heart of Grado. I must continue with you, Ephraim.”

    “But-“ I began. Myrrh’s crimson eyes stared up at me, pleading silently. “Oh, all right. I can never refuse you anything, can I?” I added with a laugh. “Your eyes remind me too much of Eirika…” I wondered if she knew that and if she was doing it on purpose. “But you must not stray from my side, do you hear? I will do the best I can to keep you safe, so please try to do as I say.”

    “I understand… I will not stray…” she answered, looking away again.

    I stopped watching the road, just for a minute, and watched the sunset with her.

 

Chapter 4: A New Journey     Chapter 6: Turning Traitor