Mercenary War - Book 2

Chapter 10

         Fallon was summoned first thing the next morning. He left his men to eat on their own, taking an apple to eat on the way. Halfway to Kikarii’s residence, he threw the core into the trees, his stomach growling in protest at the inadequate breakfast. When he arrived at the doors, he was immediately ushered into the same room he had visited the day before. This time, however, Ariah sat beside Kikarii at the large desk. As before, the king gave a short half bow and acknowledged the lady of the hall as well as Kikarii.

         Ariah gave a wry smile. He really is a king. Nothing about him gives the impression that he has ever been anything else. She nodded to him in response and thanked him for coming so early.

         Kikarii gave an uncomfortable, yet formally polite greeting this time. “Welcome, my lord. I hope you rested well.” After he had spoken with Ariah, the memories of his recent time in Kezna would not leave him alone. They had talked about it late into the night and Ariah confirmed his thoughts he had at the time. They really were not that different. Every person was simply one step away from their breaking point at any given time. Kikarii had good men with him to pull him away. Fallon had those who had broken him. There lies the only real difference between them.

         “I hope my request was not too much to ask. I did not realize you had joined Kikarii on his campaign, and then I was, of course, unaware that you had been injured, my lady.”

         She chuckled humorously at his apology. “Nonsense. There was no reason you would have. And though I was injured, your wife, the queen, made sure that any survivors were her personal responsibility. I owe her much gratitude, your majesty. Now, what is it you require of me that my husband cannot or will not help with?” Kikarii gave her an incredulous look and Fallon laughed.

         “My lady, I think if your lord were going to refuse me anything, asking you would have been too disrespectful, considering our recent, and still fragile, alliance. However, I have heard rumors for years that the sacred gem of the forest angels can be used to create an explosion. Forgive me if I am mistaken. These are only rumors, after all.”

         Ariah beckoned for him to take a seat. “The rumors are not quite correct. Even still, they only began circulating because of the ignorance of one of the children in Ynhilay when I was growing up...”

         “Fayha! What are you doing?” Ariah yelled.

         “Calm down,” the other little girl said, her brother squatting beside her. She was trying to light a fire with a flint.

         “You shouldn't be out this far. Anyone can see you, including traders! You should get further in!”

         Fayha rolled her eyes. “My dad won't let me start fires with the angel fire yet! He still says I'm too little.”

         Groaning, Ariah put her hands on her hips. “I agree! Obviously you aren't old enough to realize that you can put yourself in danger out here!” Her wings shuddered with her frustration. She couldn't decide whether to fly away or stay and make sure these two didn't get kidnapped… or light themselves on fire.

         “Relax, Ariah. I know what I'm doing. I've watched dad almost a hundred times.” The makeshift torch she brought with her caught fire. She took out an angel fire and put it on the ground, holding the torch up to it. The children were oblivious to the traveler that hid a short distance away watching and listening. “Almost!” she squealed.

         “I'm leaving before you light yourself on fire, Fayha!” Ariah yelled. She was just about to fly off when the gemstone suddenly shimmered and looked as if it were liquifying, before a large ball of fire flew up from the dirt. “Fayha!” Ariah rushed over and grabbed the girl and her brother, pulling them away. Fayha's wings were singed and there were small flames that had caught on her feathers. Ariah put the flames out and stared at the blackened earth where the entire torch was aflame. While it did not explode, the fireball was big enough to nearly catch the trees on fire. The girl's brother got himself to his feet, tears in his eyes. However, Fayha was crying in pain, her wings and skin burned. “Froshe! Help me get her to a doctor!” Together the two children carried the little angel away from the edge of the trees and back to the village to get her burns treated.

         The stranger cautiously walked over and checked the dirt. The angelfire was nowhere to be seen, but the size of the fire was incredible. After another moment of observation, he scurried away, continuing on his way to the trading center on the edge of the forest a mile north of where he was.

         “After that, rumors began spreading like… well, like wildfire. Eventually they stopped, but by then most people had heard at least some variation of the story. The variations went from angelfire being used as flint, to something like an explosion that killed people.” Ariah sighed. “Fayha did learn her lesson after that. But considering she lit her ring on fire, she never had a gem to give her betrothed. It was a big deal at the time. What people have never been allowed to know is that in our history, before the angels decided to remain neutral, the signal fires would be lit with five or ten gems. I should have probably been more curious about your reasons for wanting such a clarification on the rumors before explaining, but I assume that whatever you had in mind would benefit more than just yourself.” She watched him intently.

         He stayed silent for a moment more, but the disappointment was evident on his face. “I was honestly hoping that the more dramatic rumors would have been true. Making a bigger fire does nothing to help me, really. I was hoping for a way to destroy a room, or multiple. A simple fire would not do. I don’t know what I expect, but I want nothing left of Harta. Nothing that can be salvaged or used. I want everything gone. When I am finished, I want it to be barely even a memory left to stain the dirt it was built on.”

         “So you want something that can explode,” Kikarii said matter of fact.

         Fallon looked between the elf and his wife. “That is the result I am looking for.”

         “It’s not possible,” the other man said, waving his hand dismissively.

         “Actually,” Ariah quickly cut in. “We have been mining in the Mordin Mountains. While mining, we came across something in the dirt that, when mixed with angel fire in some way, can create an explosion. Like what you saw years ago in Ynhilay.” She glanced at Kikarii as he dragged his hand down his face in frustration, giving the impression he had not actually intended to divulge this information. “However…” Ariah hesitated.

         “However, the size explosion you are looking for is too large for the reaction we are capable of making,” Kikarii interrupted . His aggravation peaked and he stood to leave.

         Fallon sat still, focused on what seemed like empty space. As the elf turned to end their meeting, the king held up a hand. “What if you could ground the gems into a powder, like you would do with herbs to make elixirs?” He turned to look at Ariah, trying to ignore the dark, rage filled look that overshadowed his features. “If you could do that, it could then be fully combined with anything and spread over a greater distance.”

         Kikarii did not come back, but remained like a statue, where he was near the doorway. Ariah stood, glancing at her husband. “The truth is, my lord, we have avoided any attempt at making a larger blast because the original discovery was made by accident at the cost of quite a few lives.”

         “If the explosion was accidental and you have not looked more into it, then how did you find out what caused it to begin with?”

         A sigh was heard from Kikarii’s direction as he turned around, clearly disappointed at how helpful his wife was being. Fallon felt the urge to laugh at the stark contrast between the two. It suddenly reminded him of his relationship with Calya and he internally shuddered at the unexpected loneliness that threatened to overwhelm him.

         “...lives up on the mountain.” a voice stopped. “Fallon, are you really going to ignore me now that I have decided to actually lend my assistance?”

         Clearing his throat, the king ran his fingers through his shaggy hair uncomfortably. “No, my lord. Please continue. What lives on the mountain?”

         Ariah and Kikarii exchanged a look and shook their heads before the elf started again. “There is a man we met near the mines when we went to investigate the explosion in the tunnel…”

         “Get everyone still alive out of here!” Kikarii’s voice boomed near the smoke-filled cavern entrance. Four men carried two bloodied, unconscious miners from the smoke.

         One of the men came over after the explosion victims were handed off to healers. “Only two victims survived, my lord. The rest of the team was lost in the blast.”

         A look flickered across Kikarii’s face. “Thirteen men were lost?”

         Another miner walked up. “That would be fourteen, sire,” he said solemnly, gesturing to one of the two survivors. He had apparently passed already and was being wrapped up to cover his disfigured features.

         The elven leader punched the stone, crying out in sorrow. He stood there for long moments, head lowered, eyes closed, chest heaving. Then his wife’s voice caught his attention. “Kik, there is someone here.”

         The uneasiness in her tone turned him around. A short distance from the crown searching the rubble stood an old man, robed and hooded, face lowered. His robe was a smoky gray; black boots were on his feet. He stood silent, his presence slowly halting gall work as those gathered realized he was there. Soon, all was still and only the faint sounds of distant birds and burning grass remained.

         Kikarii stepped forward cautiously. “Who are you?” As if in slow motion, the stranger lifted his hands and removed the hood. His face was aged and creased. His skin was darkened by the sun and rough and calloused on his hands. His white hair was worn long and fell about his shoulders and a slight smile played across his pale, thin lips. The elf took a step forward, his voice lowered. “Who are you?”

         Putting his hands up defensively, the old man smiled a little more. “I have heard that you are now lord over these lands. So please forgive me, my lord. I have lived here longer than you have lived at all. I am not accustomed to etiquette since the birds and wolves and such hold no regard for it. Your wife is very beautiful. A former immortal, no doubt.” His voice was low and gravely, yet friendly and unimposing. His piercing eyes were a deep purple, mirroring Ariah’s

         Kikarii took in the old man’s appearance and then spoke. “What were you banished for?”

         The stranger waved his hand as if shooing some invisible pest. “Same as your wife. Except my love died from sickness - oh about seventy years ago now. She lived here with me, but I have lived alone ever since. I was clean shaven back then.” He touched his wild white beard self-consciously. A moment passed where he seemed lost in a daze and then he suddenly shook his head and waved off invisible flies again. “Come with me, my lord.” He inclined his head toward Ariah. “My lady. I am sure you have many questions about what has happened here. I will answer what I can. I regret that I have no ale or wine, but I do have tea and some fresh wolf meat if you are of the mind to eat and drink with me.”

         Sharing a look, the lord and lady turned to follow the mysterious outcast. Kikarii motioned for everyone to continue and left his guard behind, convinced that he and Ariah would be more than a match for an elderly hermit. His seeming lack of caution pleased the old man as they picked their way over the loose rocks toward the man’s cabin.

         The cabin they arrived at was nothing like what they had anticipated. Outside, in front, was a large vegetable garden, an oversized cooking pot over a cold fire pit, a post with an unlit lantern, and a porch with two old, wooden rocking chairs. The cabin itself was large, two floors, and had flowers under the windows. The windows were large and the roof peaked. There were lanterns on either side of the front door. Surprise was evident on both of the guests' faces.

         “Well you didn’t think I lived in a broken down old shack, did you?” The immediate look of embarrassment and throat clearing that answered him told him that was exactly what they thought. A cheery chuckle arose from the stranger as he responded to their expression. I guess I can not blame you for the assumption. But my wife and I built this house together. She loved gardening and would not allow me to live without vegetables, so I guess I just live how I always have. Old habits, you see…” His voice faded out as he passed by a small rose garden that, until now, had been hidden behind the vegetable garden. He stopped for a moment and nodded to his two guests. “I brought home a couple of guests, Melara. I didn't think you’d mind.”

         Looking over, Kikarii saw a roughly made headstone in the middle of the garden, a small footpath leading right to it. He glanced at Ariah who looked shocked. “Melara? The daughter of the last queen of Gildad, Melara?” Gildad had not had a monarchy in over one hundred years.

         A sad smile crinkled the man’s features further. “The very same.”

         Her eyes widened. “How old are you?”

         Kikarii put a hand on his forehead, clearly embarrassed on behalf of his dear wife. The other man just laughed again, his eyes suddenly bright and seemingly carefree. “I am one hundred and fifty-two years old.”

         “But how is that possible? You are mortal.” She gawked at him.

         He bellowed louder, more than a little amused. “I am mortal, my lady, not human.” With a wave of his calloused hand, he climbed onto the porch. “Come in and we can talk more. I have wolf meat and mind tea.”

         It was nearly dark as Kikarii and the old man sat over partially finished meals of wolf, vegetables, and cold mugs of tea. Ariah had finished her meal nearly thirty minutes prior, content to listen and observe.

         “So you really had no knowledge of the angelfire in these mountains when you and your wife moved here?” Kikarii asked, surprised.

         Shaking his head, the other man, who had finally introduced himself as Akhron, replied, “No, completely unaware. I found it quite by accident. One of the caves your miners had opened up was there all those years ago as well. It became much larger, however, after I was collecting large stones for our well out back here and put a hole through the rock and into the small chamber. Next thing I knew, a boom, so loud it made my ears ring, echoed on the entire mountain. Tant did not yet exist, of course, so no one except us heard it. Next thing we know, instead of a small hole in the hill, an entire cave had been opened. Already aware of the extreme heat tendencies of angelfire, I made a point to find out anything I could about what had happened. Eventually I found that something in the dirt on this specific mountain creates an instant explosion when it comes into contact with the heat of the gems. Very dangerous, as you saw. Better to leave it a secret and pretend it doesn’t exist. The marshes keep people at bay and surround the mountain. No need to tempt fate by spreading the word.”

         Kikarii sat silently processing what he had been told. “Could it be used as a weapon?” he asked finally.

         Akhron was shaking his head before the elf even finished his sentence. “Only if you are willing to sacrifice an indefinite amount of your own people in the process.”

         “Didn’t you experiment and test out the materials yourself, though?” the commander pressed.

         “Only to the extent that I knew what had caused the explosion so I could avoid blowing myself up the next time. I know when there is a line I should not cross. I was lucky to have walked away with only small burns on my hands and nothing more. Believe me when I say that if a weapon is made, it is only a matter of time before an enemy also acquires the knowledge and method in which yours was made. Leave it alone, young lord.”

         “...And so we’ve never mentioned it since except between the two of us. None of the miners know the cause and we do not plan to tell them.” Kikarii finished speaking and looked to Ariah in case she had anything to add. She shook her head, watching Fallon intensely.

         The king leaned forward, eyes glinting dangerously. “Let me try. Let me talk to this old man and make it into a weapon.” The elf rose quickly, voicing his protest, but Fallon held up a hand. “You know my plans already. I pose no danger to you or your city. Any knowledge I take with me, I will take to my grave. Not even Calya shall know of it. I will share what I find with you and Ariah and leave it up to you on what to do with my findings. If I am able to use it to destroy Harta, there is no one close enough to know what has happened. You win no matter what.” His gaze was hard and determined.

         “I give you free reign of the mountain and on the off chance you do not blow yourself up and end up succeeding, I acquire the knowledge to create the deadliest weapon ever made, with no loss on my part.” The commander paused. “That sounds too good to be true. Why should I agree to this?”

         Fallon kept his gaze steady. “Because you can not bring yourself to pass on the opportunity to let me kill myself if I fail.” He waited a moment for emphasis then said, “And if I don’t fail, this potential weapon is the only way to ensure victory if the mercenaries or anyone else comes for your people.”

         Kikarii’s uncomfortable expression was undeniable. He knew that the other man paused to ensure his expression at the thought of him blowing himself up would be difficult to hide. Ariah shook her head in annoyance. But the elven lord composed himself quickly enough and held out his hand. “Done. I expect you to stay there with your men and not return here until you have completed your task. The longer this goes on, the harder it becomes to maintain secrecy. I will have you escorted there tomorrow by two of my men.

         With a curt, yet grateful nod, Fallon took the other’s hand, did a half bow, and took his leave.

         Ariah came over to her husband and rubbed his shoulders. “He will not fail, you know.”

         He let out a deep, frustrated sigh. “I do. I fear the consequences of his success. I want nothing to do with the level of potential calamity a weapon like this could cause. The sooner he leaves, the better.”

         Fallon told his men what they were going to do and had them pack up food and gear to hike up the mountains. They would be there for the foreseeable future. Until he could find a way to blow up an entire castle, both underground and above ground, he would not leave. Soon, Kikarii’s guards came to escort them all through the marshes and into the mountain. Kole eyed them suspiciously, assuming the worst about this elf and his wife. He knew the stories from Fallon’s history with them, but was convinced they had the worst intentions possible.

         His king let him stew in his discomfort, not even bothering to reassure him. It took nearly an entire day to get to the base of the mountain on horseback. There was a small stable at the base of the slopes where they left their horses to continue the climb on foot. They were given directions to reach the abandoned mines and then were left alone. The road through the marsh must have taken the entire last two years to make. They had filled in the swamp in that area and somehow had found a way to keep the beasts away from the road. The group of men looked at each other and then started up the side.

         It took the better part of an hour to reach where the ground began to level off enough for them to walk. After that, they hiked nearly another hour until they reached the caves. Looking out over the landscape, Ishain tapped Ventris’ arm. Everyone turned around when the elf gasped. Below them, the fog of the marsh spread out with a dark line through it that must have been the road. Beyond that, the walls of the city rose like a massive fortress. And a ways beyond that, they could see the other marshes that faded into the distance. It was awe inspiring. They all scanned the horizon in all directions, to the east of this range, they could see sparkling blue that spread out like a blanket as far as the eye could see. A few dark spots that could have been islands could be seen dotting the watery expanse.

         Kikarii had given them directions to find the old man’s large cabin as well, but Fallon had a feeling he would be finding all of them first. He was correct, of course, and within a few minutes of them leaving the mines behind, Akhron suddenly stood before them. The men regarded him cautiously. Their king stepped forward first, putting out his hand. “Akhron, I am Fallon, king of Kezna. I have need of your assistance.”

         The old man blew out a low whistle. “Well, I never anticipated the king of Kezna coming to find me here.” He did a partial bow and lowered his head. “Your majesty, what can I do for you?”

         A smile tipped the corner of the former mercenary's mouth as he answered. “Help me blow people up.” The hermit looked from one face to the other, his face marked with unease and tinged with fear. But he beckoned them along anyway, assuming Kikarii had sent them and desperately hoping this was not a mistake.

         The rest of the night Fallon stayed up, talking to their host, explaining why he was on the venture that he was and the importance of his task. He knew the old man would not appreciate contributing to the killing of a large number of people, but where they were mercenaries, he hoped the other would make an exception for this. They talked the rest of the night and in the morning, the king told his men to take a few days and rest and go hunting so the old man did not have to hunt for all of them. He also told Ventris what plants to look for to make other types of tea for the gentleman.

         The days passed uneventfully and soon a week had gone by. Akron had drawings on paper scattered around the dining area in his cabin, trying to find one particular one. The younger man threw his hands up. “I can’t find it again. There are so many papers here that I lost it.”

         The old man clicked his tongue. “No worries, young king. We will find it. It has been nearly a week and you don’t seem to have a solid plan yet.”

         Fallon’s frustration was palpable. “I know! I just... You said it was something in the dirt that caused the explosion, right?” WIthout waiting for an answer, he got up and paced around the room. A ruckus outside caught their attention as the four men burst through the door, a large wolf carcass on the ground behind them. They were so loud and rowdy that their lord yelled at them all to get out, slamming the door behind them. He sat back down quickly. “I’m sure whatever is in the dirt could be separated, right? If so, then maybe the dirt is actually making the explosion less… explosive.”

         Akhron shrugged. “I do not know if there is any way to even find out what in the dirt is mixing with the heat of the gems.”

         The former mercenary stared out the window, his gaze fixed and unseeing. “Hmm. Where can we test our ideas?”

         The man pointed somewhere beyond the walls. “I can lead you further into the range. There are caverns there with enough angelfire to last you a lifetime of blowing things up. There is also a massive valley that works as an open testing ground. I just warn you. I do not know if the dirt in the valley has the same response to the gems. You may end up just blowing yourself to hell if you test it there.”

         Fallon drummed his fingers on the table, contemplating. “I guess that is a risk I will have to take. Let’s head there tomorrow.” He walked out the door, joining his soldiers as they skinned and cut up the wolf to salt and put in a cold cellar for storage. He briefed them on the plan and told them to eat well and pack well. Kole requested permission to go hunting again on his own and Fallon granted him permission since at least the animals he brought back with him were not mutilated like the people.

         It was nearly dinner time when Kole returned, covered in blood. The whole group turned in stunned silence, their eyes wide. He met their stares and then looked around, confused before looking down at himself. “Oh, I had a little trouble cutting up the wolf and the boar alone. Does someone want to help me salt and pack some of this away for tomorrow’s trip to the valley? Whatever we don’t pack, we can put in the cold cellar.”

         An audible sigh of relief sounded from the entire room and conversation kicked back up as Ventris and Raffine went out with Kole while the others helped Akhron get the food. Within an hour, everyone was sitting in a large circle as they did every night, plates of bread, wolf meat, roasted corn and tomatoes, hibiscus and rose tea and cheese. The old man looked at his plate with astonishment. He had originally thought these men were mere soldiers, but he had come to realize, they were very skilled at cooking and they had no qualms about cleaning up after themselves and taking responsibility for anything that he may need done. Ishain had also repaired some things around the cabin that the old man had just given up on. Fallon had made him some salves and elixirs that were not poisonous, and the other three focused on hunting and helping him stock up on all the meat he had the space to store. The hermit couldn’t help but think that he was really going to miss these men when they were finished with their task. They interacted like siblings and even the king seemed to be laid back and casual with them and allowed them to be the same with him. Thinking back to what he knew of the Highland superpower, he was amazed at how much different this man was than he would have ever expected, especially considering he was a former mercenary. Even the fact that he was a former mercenary was in itself incredible since that was unprecedented. The men turned in when dinner was finished and everything was cleaned up. All except Fallon. The king stayed up again speaking with the old man.

         “Aha!” came Akhron's excited cry.

         Fallon whipped his head around. “Did you find it?”

         “I did! Melara! Look at your old man. I’m not completely useless without you, am I?”

         The king smiled listening to the older man’s excitement. He also talked to Calya when she wasn’t around - just in his head, and not out loud. “Care to share it with me?”

         The two men leaned over the table and looked at the papers he had recovered. They included his notes on what he found out about the blast. The information was limited but it would save the men some time with figuring out the basics. The king looked at the old man. “Are all of the caves around here the same?”

         “Uh…” Akron thought for a moment. “Yes, I think so.”

         “Okay then.” Fallon folded up the papers and put them in his tunic. “Hopefully we will sort this out quickly and return to Kikarii before long with some success.”

         The other grabbed his arm hesitantly. “My lord, I know we have spoken openly till now. However, I do not know what your exact plans for this are. I would feel much better if I knew I was not participating in something I will regret later.”
         Fallon sat down with him and rubbed his eyes wearily. “I am planning on blowing up Harta, if you must know.”
         The old man’s eyes were like saucers in response to the lord’s answer. “But why?”
         “Because if I just kill them all, someone else will make use of the fortress. The only way to guarantee the mercenaries will never recover or restart is to destroy their fortress along with them.”
         Akhron could not pretend he disapproved of this venture, so he just nodded and announced he was going to bed. The mercenary watched him go and went to the small couch a ways away. He leaned back with his fingers loosely intertwined behind his head and closed his eyes. Images of his wife flooded into his mind. Except these images were from her time in captivity. He began to doze off. The scenes played in his head. He saw himself throwing her against the wall, her quiet defiance eating him alive. Yet in his dreams, he was in love with her like he is now, but he could not stop himself from acting out the memories. He could hear himself screaming at himself in his mind, yelling to keep his hands off of her. He watched himself drag her onto the bed, rip open her tunic and invade her intimately just shy of actually molesting her. He saw her eyes, their hard indignation staring back at him. Except this time, he was screaming in agony, telling that self to go to hell, to kill himself. But he would not stop. He watched himself rip out her hair while slamming her head against the stone wall. He watched her tears and heard her screaming when he told her Kikarii was executed. He felt her punch and heard his uncaring tone and his sneer. He felt trapped, caged by his own heartless, cold self. Then his dreams switched to all the times he hit and abused her. The numerous times flashed one after another through his dreams until he shrieked, unable to handle it any longer. A hand on his shoulder shook him and he opened his eyes. He had his hands over his ears on his head and he had been screaming on the couch.
         Kole knelt before him and Ventris stood beside him, his hand gripping the mercenary’s shoulder. “Fallon, what happened?”