The Keys to Ascension Page 31

  Silence filled the room for a second. The high general and ambassador both went to a knee, facing Zephyra.

  The general said, “Hail Queen Zephyra.”

  All three men repeated: “Hail Queen Zephyra.”

  As they stood, the general already spoke. “My Queen, I’ll prepare the final defenses of the city. These coasts will run red with Hyzantrian blood.” He turned toward the stairs.

  Returning to a knee, the ambassador looked at her with pleading eyes. “My Queen, you must—”

  “Wait.” She said.

  The general halted right before the stairs, turning toward her.

  “General, take half of our remaining army and lay the bloodiest ambushes possible. The other half will retreat on our remaining boats to Kavalis and continue the war from there.”

  The general opened his mouth to argue, but he knew there was no time for it. Both ambushes and fleeing would take all the little time they had. He bowed his head. “Yes, my Queen.”

  At eighteen, Zephyra was queen of a city with no navy, no army, no hope. And, she’d never even kissed a boy.

  Ch. 56

  Kericles sat at the big, oval table as a member of the Citian Council. The king of Chalca spoke vehemently about never giving in until the Hyzantrians offered good terms. He argued that here in Kavalis the Citians could hold out forever.

  The king of Megari stood. “That’s easy for you to say. Chalca is far to the west. The Hyzantrians may never even bother attacking it. My city currently pays taxes to the empire. It’s practically already annexed. Megarian children already have that damn religion shoved down their throats. They’re already learning to speak Hyzantrian. I don’t care if we have to give tribute for the next thousand years, I’d give anything for freedom.”

  The Chalcan king’s thinly bearded face grew taut with anger. “Forced to open to their trade and forced to pay tribute is not freedom! It’s slavery!” He faced Kericles. “What say you King Sannacles?”

  King…he was no king. His father still ruled Actus, but all the League recognized Kericles as king anyways. He’d learned enough being on Kavalis to know that when someone asked him to speak, they didn’t want his opinion, but his support. They knew he’d be for fighting-on because he was nothing without total victory.

  Kericles stood. “I’m not truly Citian unless I vote for glory!”

  A handful of kings shouted, “Rrrwhaaaaaaa!”

  The queen of Petra stood. She and Kericles were the youngest at the table of men in their middle ages and beyond.

  Kericles didn’t understand politicking with a woman. Sure, his mother was smart, but she knew her role. I guess Petra has little other choice… There were two other queens at the table, but their old and wrinkly skin didn’t evoke the same concerns. This Queen Zephyra in her teal dress that flows around her like a dancer’s ribbons, and her dark hair with strands that shoot across her cheeks like rays from the sun, and her sparkling deep eyes; she was young. How could Kericles take seriously someone so beautiful? She expected him to listen to her words like she was a man, but he could only think of her face and body. Kericles forced himself to focus and to look at her eyes like he would a man. He hoped no one noticed his difficulty.

  She scanned the men. “This war saw my father killed by Hyzantrians. It saw my older brother killed by Hyzantrians. It saw my younger brother killed by Hyzantrians. It has seen so many killed. I don’t wish to see more death and despair. But, if the Hyzantrians want dominion over us, then I say we fight until the last man, woman, and child!”

  Battle-yells went up from most of the council.

  #

  Zephyra stood on the cliff watching the Hyzantrian ships ride the waves. Kavalis’s harbor could only be accessed through narrow passage ways surrounded by cliffs. Any ships going through them would be bombarded by catapults and flame arrows from above. Any invasion elsewhere would require scaling cliffs or narrowly filing in troops through small, rocky beaches. The Hyzantrians may have stopped the defenders from importing luxuries or communicating with the outside world, but they wouldn’t starve them out. The farming yields had been large.

  She wondered how Petra faired. She imagined they were either all slaughtered, or currently starved in a siege.

  From behind her, the steps of her arranged date approached. She’d met with many men that her advisors set her up with, but didn’t find any of them satisfactory. Her advisors wanted to give her someone to rule her people. She had much to learn, but she didn’t see the need to give her power over to a man. At most, she’d accept a partner, but she preferred a puppet. What she knew about this afternoon’s man, gave her hope.

  He came up behind her, then stood next to her. “Hyzantrians.” He spit over the cliff.

  She turned to him. Handsome and young, her advisors finally consented in letting her meet with someone attractive. “Isn’t your mother Hyzantrian?”

  He gulped. “Yeah, I don’t really hate Hyzantrians. I just hate them in war.” He looked at the ground, shaking his head. “My cousin was Hyzantrian, and we sliced our way into glory in the Torn Lands!” He cut through the air like he held a sword.

  I can’t tell if he’s a fool or not, but I like his energy. He has proven his physical merit. He could probably beat my father and brothers in a duel. That could be good in a son, as long as the heir to my throne isn’t a fool…

  “You read this morning’s offering from the Hyzantrians?” she asked.

  “You haven’t?”

  Her eyes scanned the sea, finding more ships than before. She smirked. “I thought my charming pursuer could bring it to me.”

  “Oh, heh. Yeah. I didn’t bring the actual text…”

  She waited for him to figure out that a summary would do.

  “Well,” he said, “they want dominion over us all. So according to your comments a few months ago, the war will go on. If it does go on, we’ll get no news of it stuck on this island. I’ve helped train the squires pretty well, but we don’t have estra-armor for them all.”

  “Kericles.”

  He eyed her.

  “Have we been thrust to power barely out of our child years just to watch the end of the free city-states? In a couple generations, will we all just be Hyzantrian zealots?”

  “Never! I won’t let it happen.”

  Or you’ll die trying.

  “Look,” Zephyra said, “if my kingdom survives this, it will need an heir. I’m not looking for a king to hand my city over to. I’m looking for a husband to help run the military, to help provide an heir, and to provide me legitimacy.”

  Some sort of protesting grunt came out of him, then silence as she watched a few sea birds fly overhead. One had a fish larger than the bird hanging from its mouth.

  He spoke. “I’m an excellent warrior. You know of my glory in the Torn Lands. And I was a rare survivor in the Battle of Actus. I don’t need to help lead any army. I can lead as its king.”

  “Do you really think you know more about military strategy than all of my surviving officers?”

  “Whhha.”

  “Kericles, can I be frank?”

  “Haven’t you been already?”

  She smiled. He returned it.

  “You’ll probably never be king of Actus. Even if we all survive this, the League won’t invade Actus to depose your father or brother. If you want to maintain your high noble status, then you’ll have to do so through marriage. And, trapped on this island, you have limited options.”

  He beheld her. She used to blush under such a gaze, but her mind didn’t get excited anymore.

  He spoke, “If you were my only option, I think my options would be quite good. Your beauty is exquisite.”

  That made her blush. He leaned toward her. She looked at him. Glory, he is cute. They kissed.

  The kiss streamed through her surprisingly nicely, considering her plan was to use him in a political marriage, not a romance. She pulled away, their eyes locked.

  She had to make herself clear. “I
will have the laws of Petra changed to make me the ruler, not the king. I’ll do it quietly to avoid embarrassment, but you’ll play second fiddle to a woman, and smart people will realize that. Neither of us will change our last names, and our children will take mine—the traditional name of our royalty.”

  Kericles shrugged. “Will I get command of a small band of elite men that I’m in charge of?”

  She nodded, “of course.”

  “Will I again get to kiss the most gorgeous woman in all the lands?”

  Is he actually falling for me? “You know how heirs are produced, right?”

  He laughed a busting, obnoxious laugh.

  She smirked. He’s like silly in his shyness, but I don’t think he’s truly a fool. If not for this war and her family’s death, she may have been giggling at such a thought.

  “Then it’s settled, you’ll be my king of Petra.”

  #

  Kericles and a couple thousand nobles and squires, all in estra-armor, ran toward the sound of battle. That was the Hyzantrians’ third attempt to scale cliff walls that day. The other two had been repelled when reinforcements arrived, but the attacks came on opposite ends of the island and running from place to place took time.

  The Citians ran up a rocky slope. Right over it would be some flat land before a cliff, as well as death and glory.

  Kericles reached the top to see the sky blanketed with arrows, shot from men on what must have been an armada of ships below. Kericles and his reinforcements would be fine in their estra-armor, but the initial guards mostly wore chain, and they were mostly dead. Their bodies lay scattered in front of Kericles with multiple arrow wounds in each; some arrows may have entered after death.

  Ahead of this, men in chain, centered by three estra-armored warriors, fought a few thousand light Hyzantrian soldiers. A few contraptions had been fixated to the end of the cliff—some kind of moving pully systems. What the?

  His men came over the slope behind him. Kericles yelled, “Rrrwhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

  They charged forward. He and his comrades held their armored hands over their eye slits as arrows dinked off them. The corpses slowed the charge. A few of his men slipped, tripping those running behind them. Kericles barreled forward.

  What sounded like a series of launching catapults sounded from the unseen ships below the cliff. Then, massive boulders rained overhead, colliding with arrows that still dropped. Kericles, multiple strides ahead of his charging men, dashed forward and into the battle. With a hammer in each hand, he went to cracking Hyzantrian skulls. Behind him, men screamed as crunches sounded, then the rolling of rocks and more thuds entered his ears as the catapults’ attack destroyed chunks of Kericles’s reinforcement force.

  The charge didn’t come in all at once like Kericles imagined, but a majority of his men made it through and entered the melee. The neighing of a horse pierced Kericles’s ears over the battle. The contraptions pulled up armored horses and knights from the ships bellow. He had to punch through and put an end to that.

  “Rrrwhaaaaaaaa!” He slammed through a handful of enemies, swinging his hammers the whole time. A few poleaxes glanced off him, causing no harm. His men got the picture and joined him in the pointed push.

  Halfway through the enemy lines, Kericles got better glimpses of the preparing knights. He assumed a few were up and ready, but he saw a hundred. They ran away from the battle then looped around toward the Citian flanks. Neither beast nor man could pierce estra-armor, but a charging horse created enough force to knock one’s brain around in the collision. And, his engaged men probably wouldn’t see it coming.

  Retreat would be disastrous. He couldn’t let the Hyzantrians get a beachhead. But if the battle is loss, there is no point to losing even more men. No! One final push! “Rrwhaaaaaa!”

  He and the armored warriors behind him fought with skill, blocking, angling their armor to force glancing blows, and striking with deadly accuracy. They pushed all the way through the enemy, cutting their lines in half.

  Then, the knights struck the Citian flank, demolishing it. Lance-like hammers and plate-covered horses crashed into unbraced Citians.

  Reaching the cliff, Kericles looked over to see what looked more like wooden land with rivers in-between than ocean due to so many ships in one spot. If only we had position to attack from above; we could burn them all.

  “Rrwhaaaaa!” He bashed in two foes’ skulls, then slung his hammer into a pully, breaking its arm off and dropping a screaming man and neighing horse to their deaths below.

  He glanced back at the battle behind him. The Hyzantrians enveloped the Citians from the side of the calvary charge. Citians who could, already fled. Surrounded by the brave men who successfully made Kericles’s charge with him, he lifted his hammer in the air. “Rwhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

  They bust back into the enemy. Many of his comrades were overwhelmed by Hyzantrians grabbing limbs before stabbing through visors with daggers. Men screamed and dropped. Somehow, Kericles made it through and caught up to the retreaters. He glanced behind him. The knights dared not chase toward the rocky slope where their horses could have easily tripped or broke their ankles.

  Kericles escaped, but the invincible defenses of Kavalis had been breached.

  #

  The citizens kept at their work, keeping shops open and farming their terraces. Unlike in Petra, where the news of military failure led to pandemonium in the streets as people threw all their belongings into carts to flee, or boarded up their homes to defend to the last person, here on Kavalis everyone knew there was nowhere to go. Forts had been built on the hills around the beachhead. But that would only slow the Hyzantrians a little. Their cavalry would play limited roles in the mountainous terrain, but their numbers and clever tactics would win the day.

  Zephyra sat next to her husband on the Citian Council. All wore long faces. They sat silently, awaiting the expected message from the Hyzantrian ambassador.

  Holding Kericles’s hand, Zephyra stared ahead, her eyes unfocused.

  Some king shouted angrily. “Whatever it is, we will fight to the death! We are Citians! We’re not scared!”

  A knock came at the door, and a guard let a military messenger in. He held a rolled-up scroll, clearly of Hyzantrian making. He said, “The note from the Hyzantrians.”

  No one reached for it. The Hyzantrians had the power to demand complete surrender, and it was what they’ve been demanding for months. Will some of these kings give in if this note offers to spare their lives? Even Citians have their breaking points.

  Zephyra stood and took the note, then sat, unscrolling it on the table. She read it aloud in a monotone voice. It, of course, started with praise toward the Hyzantrian government and god. Ridiculous Hyzantrians. I guess we’ll all be Hyzantrians now.

  Then, she started paying attention to what she was saying, what she read. The faces around her turned from despair to confusion.

  “Read the real thing!” someone shouted.

  A king to her right said breathily, “It is the real thing…all will be returned to prewar conditions except they want: a proven effort form all city-states to find the killer of King Sannacles’s wife, trade barriers gradually reduced to zero over thirty years, and Kericles forever banished from Actus.”

  Zephyra squeezed her husband’s hand as she heard him take a heavy breath. He had to know it would be like this, but to have the banishment of his home finalized…

  A king shouted, “This must be a trick!”

  Another said, “Why would they suddenly offer this?”

  “Who cares, we must accept. Almost half of us wanted lower trade barriers before the war anyways.”

  The kings discussed their astonishment for an hour, but in the end agreed to end the war on such light terms.

  What in glory’s name would cause them to offer such terms on their very verge of victory?

  Ch. 57

  Theto and Georgy stood atop the ramparts of the river fortress. Hyzantrian archers stretch
ed along the walls. All stared out at the massive horse horde setting up camp a little outside of catapult range. Thanks to the farsighter, everyone already knew these forces rode toward them, but seeing the men and beasts in the flesh overwhelmed the senses.

  Georgy whispered, “Ernestio was right…their banners represent the northern and southern empires.”

  Theto gasped. “The infidels unite. They betrayed us!”

  #

  Finio sat in his cell. He always wanted to return to Hyzantria one day, but not in chains. He ate some corn on the cob thinking of the good’ol days. His brothers and Lizeto played sedeux all day. His dad and uncle welcomed them home. We were all happy together. Fortunately, he ate better in prison than anyone could expect to, thanks to his brother.

  Steps sounded down the hallway. An inquisitor in his flowing white robes approached. By the man’s gait, Finio guessed it was Parto. The man’s voice confirmed it.

  “Brother, I have horrible news, but it presents us with an opportunity.”

  Finio stared up at Parto, awaiting the news.

  “The alliance of convenience with the northern heathens was a ruse. We should have never trusted them.” Parto slammed a fist into a hand. “They’ve joined the southerners and surrounded our punishment forces. And...with more horses and men than I thought they could possibly muster, the infidels invaded through the Wildmen Lands. Our primary army is still in Citia, and the secondary army is trapped in the southeast. The generals have ordered all defenders behind castles and walled cities. Meanwhile, the countryside is open to be ravaged.”

  Finio stood. “But the army fighting the Citians can be brought back to the capital quickly.”

  Parto nodded. “Yes, but we can’t challenge such a large horde in open battle. If they fight tactically dumb we’ll crush them, but if they use their mobility, they’ll run circles around us. The generals are gonna sit that army in the capital and wait for the ultimate siege.”