Pieces of the Empire, Book Three

By Jeffrey Lawrence Moss

Athuro finally discovers the conspiracy that has destroyed all he has hoped to achieve. Having lost everything, he must decide to either hide or fight back. The odds are stacked against him, but a desire for retribution, and the hope that it is not too late, fuel him forward. Will it be enough to save the Confederation? This is the third and final chapter of the Pieces of the Empire saga.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeffrey Lawrence Moss
• Release date: Apr 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476478258

Jeffrey Lawrence Moss

Jeffrey Moss is a finance professional in the healthcare industry. He writes to keep himself sane. Jeffrey lives in the bay area with his wife Geneva, son Bridon, and cat Bandit. If you would like to reach out to the author, feel free to e-mail him at [e-mail]. Jeffrey is at work developing an action and adventure novel now that the Pieces of the Empire epic is complete. The tentative title of his current project is "The Forgotten Stone".

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PIECES OF THE EMPIRE

BOOK THREE: THE REMAINS OF THE DREAM

by

Jeffrey Lawrence Moss

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PUBLISHED BY:

Jeffrey Lawrence Moss at Smashwords

Pieces of the Empire, Book Three: The Remains of the Dream

Copyright © 2012 by Jeffrey Lawrence Moss

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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To everyone who hung in with me to see this project finished, thank you!

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PIECES OF THE EMPIRE

BOOK THREE: THE REMAINS OF THE DREAM

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CHAPTER 1: BELIEFS AND DOUBTS

The cold February air felt crisp as the day transitioned to dusk. My breath trailed behind me as my horse sped on; my skin felt numb as a breeze whipped across my face. Darkness quickly settled in the forest, soon to make further progression at this rapid pace impossible. I was fleeing for my life, but I needed to stop soon or else risk injury due to recklessness.

Ahead and to the right I spotted a clearing that was not as dark as the trees around me. I guided my horse that way, pulling on the reigns in a tug. Fallen leaves on the forest floor crunched under my horse’s hooves as we weaved between trees and puddles of water.

My friend Walst rode slightly ahead. I called out to him, Over here! loud enough to rise above the noise and the distance between us. My other guard, Sak, rode behind, and I expected him to follow me to the clearing without any prompting.

I slowed and stopped my horse in the middle of the opening, turning around to see Sak approach. I watched for any signs of anyone still following behind us. I saw none, but Sak still had his sword drawn which caused me concern. I put my hand on the hilt of my sword, praying that I would not have to use it. My skills in wielding the weapon were limited.

Walst arrived into the clearing and stopped just within the edge. He too looked in Sak’s direction but did not draw his weapon. Darkness had not completely overwhelmed the forest, it was still possible to see if anyone approached. No one appeared to be present.

Yet Sak strode on at full speed. It was then that I realized he had no intention of slowing down.

No one follows, I called out to him as he locked gazes with me. His eyes were focused and hard.

The tip of Sak’s sword rose into the air and with horror I saw it curve around as he wound his weapon for a strike upon me. By instinct, I leaned away from the blade and found myself falling off the side of my horse onto the wet grasses below. Even without armor, I still hit the ground solidly. The impact stunned me and I could only roll over slightly.

I heard the galloping of Sak’s horse slow down and then pick up again. Disoriented and with no understanding of the damage I had absorbed, my mind became focused on one goal. Somehow I rolled and crawled my way to gather underneath my horse. By my ears I knew Sak rode close by and I thought I could discern another swing of his weapon.

My body felt overwhelmed and my field of vision waned as it seemed I would black out. Holding still, head against the ground as blades of grass poked me in the face, I focused on my breathing until my eyes recovered.

It was then that I heard a clash of swords. Carefully, I sat up, keeping myself protected by the horse as I tentatively looked around. Off to the side I saw Sak gallop across the opening where Walst had been. The Gijaen was not within my view. Sak looked upon me for a briefest moment but then snapped his attention as Walst came in to swing his weapon at the Bancilleian guard.

Almost too quickly to register, I saw Walst level his sword at Sak only to see the Bancilleian not only parry the blow but use his leverage to dismount the Gijaen. Rolling off his mount, Walst groaned at the impact of hitting the ground. He slowly stood up, just in time to defend himself against a counter strike from Sak. That blow had been blocked, but Sak pressed on, striking from atop his horse upon Walst who clearly was disadvantaged.

I had to help him. Standing, I bound for the two men and found myself loosing vision again as blood rushed to my head. I took a few steps to steady myself and then found the resolve to press on as Walst fell to one knee.

My body felt numb in the coldness, and my mind felt numb by the betrayal of my guard. I didn’t know how I would traverse the distance between us in time, yet somehow I arrived before Walst had taken any significant damage. Just as important, Sak was not aware I stood nearby.

With all the strength I could muster, I swung my sword at his right leg, striking both it and the flank of the horse he rode on. The point of my weapon dug into the animal’s body, immediately meeting with a spurt of blood. The steed bucked into the air, flinging Sak onto the ground. The horse then sped away into the forest.

Sak quickly recovered to his feet, sword still in hand. The three of us, beaten and bruised, stood equidistant from each other. Walst and I studied Sak carefully, holding our swords in defensive positions. Walst seemed to be taking the moment to gather his strength, Sak appeared to be conflicted with how to proceed, and I dared not strike for fear that he would quickly disarm me or worse.

What is this? I asked, knowing I had to slow this fight down to have any chance at all.

It is as it appears, Sak replied. He spoke with a snarl. I had heard that tone before but never with the intent of harming me. This man had actually saved my life before.

Then why? I asked.

He didn’t respond, still seeming to search for the right moment to strike.

I could see Walst with my peripheral vision but could not tell if he was able to attack or not. I dared not look away from Sak, lest I give him the opportunity he was actively seeking.

Put down your sword, I said, trying to muster calmness. And we will put down ours. It appears we have come across a misunderstanding that surely can be addressed.

He did not lay down his arms. I have been through enough, he said simply in return. It will all end tonight.

That was when my mind had finally reached a clarity about the situation at hand. Suddenly I understood that one, if not more of us, would die soon. The tone and edge to his voice left little doubt that any other possibility was not an option. Still, out of desperation, I pressed on. Please, Sak. What has caused this? Do you not consider us your friends?

His eyes burned at my words with an intensity I could feel. He replied, no, and said nothing more.

Darkness continued to fall and we appeared like shadows in the field. I remembered a similar stand-off in the castle of Valliss where five of us, including the three present, stood around the two men we had come to kill. In the end those two men were slain, but at the cost of one of our own. Both that time and now I knew something would have to happen soon. This could not be allowed to continue on into the dangerous darkness of night.

I wished I had the courage and ability to fight back. My doubts held me firmly rooted though. As the precious moments wore on, I knew I would have to overcome these feelings to spare my life. With that, I built up the will to attack; now all I needed was an opportunity.

Walst provided that moment. He quickly sprung forward with his two hands holding his sword in a strike that came down upon Sak’s head. The Bancilleian guard parried the blow, but then found that Walst had slid his blade onto the knuckle guard that protected Sak’s hand as he held onto the hilt. This locked their weapons together.

It took me a moment to realize the significance, but once it sunk in I rushed forward with the tip of my sword aloft. Walst yelled something to me, but I could not make it out.

Sak snapped his head in my direction, exerting himself to break out of the pin that Walst had on him. He struggled until he stepped back and then swung his weapon down and then up to meet my sword as it drove toward his chest. Amazingly, Sak’s parry had the force enough to not only push my blade aside but also to dislodge it from my one-handed grip.

As shocked as I was to see the weapon leave my hand, I was more startled to see Walst recover and dig his blade into the body of our attacker.

Still angry, Sak stared at me blankly and then convulsed, dropping his sword to the ground. He took a staggered step backwards. Walst no longer held his sword, stepping back to watch the exposed blade and hilt wobble back and forth. Then the Bancilleian fell onto the ground.

I looked to Walst and found him staring blankly at his former ally.

Still dazed, I found it in myself to finally kneel beside Sak. He looked up at the sky with an eerie blankness to his eyes. His breathing was raspy and irregular. Blood stained his torso, appearing in the increasing darkness as if someone had spilled a bottle of ink onto him.

I started to say something but found words lacking. Finally, I said, why?

He seemed to focus then, snapping out of his gaze to turn his head slightly and offer a glimpse of that anger I had seen earlier. Your time has come to an end. Sadly, it will not be by my blade. It should have been. But it will come, desert man. I swear to this.

What have I done to you, Sak? I asked.

He looked glazed again and did not reply. Walst came near and kneeled on the other side of Sak’s body. I expected Sak to say similar things to the man he had openly scorned before, but no words were forthcoming.

The three of us remained huddled together as night fell across the land. Sak died slowly, his body making noises as he twitched and breathed in strained increments. When his activity stopped, the only sound we could hear were the crickets.

A sliver of a moon hung above us, enough for me to see Walst stand up and place one foot onto the chest of the fallen man. He then used his hands to dislodge his sword, and then wiped the blood away on the grass.

I stood up as well and we looked at each other until we silently moved into the forest to gather wood for a fire. Then we set up a camp just within the lining of the forest. Having struggled to start a fire in the damp surroundings, we gave up and ate our rations in the cold. Then both of us found a tree to lean against, huddled our belongings close to us, and fell asleep with no words spoken.

Between this and the fall of the Confederation Army earlier in the day, I had taken more than I could handle.

* * *

About ten years ago . . . .

The waves of the ocean lapped upon the shore of the golden-sanded beach. The sun hung steadfast in the sky with no clouds to be seen. It was a normal bright and sunny day in the islands of the Outer Periphinies. It was my new life of exile.

I sat on a rock at the edge of the sand, beyond me the vegetation of the island began. Before me, across the ocean, was nothing but a horizon. Some found that view to be marvelous. I saw no beauty in it at all. However I did find that the emptiness helped me to relax and meditate.

Athuro, Lord Rydon ke Mallenen said as he approached from inland. Might I bother you at this time with a few words?

I looked back and smiled, patting the space on the rock to my side. There is certainly room for two.

Of those in exile, there seemed to be three groups. One was the elite to which the Queen of Gijae and her greater lords belonged. Rydon, the only Bancilleian Lord of significance, also belonged to this exclusive group. Another was the group constantly seeking favor with the elites, including petty nobles and servants. The final group was an unaffiliated gathering of trades people, clergy, and others. I counted myself among the last.

This was the only group where I could find friendship. The elites had no interest in dealing with a dark-skinned desert trader. In turn, those seeking favor with the elites had no time to deal with me as well. I could not understand how such social constructs could remain intact in the primitive world that had been thrust upon all of us, but it had.

Rydon was the only exception. Although we did not interact until after a few years, he had eventually reached out to me and we had had many discussions about the world and our state of affairs in them. He had little regard for the pomp of the Gijae nobility and seemed to seek with me the point of view of a man who had travelled the continent.

In the last few years, many of the conversations we had stimulated me in a way that had made exile bearable. He was much more intellectual than most that I had dealt with, and seemed to appreciate my point of view. I always welcomed him when he sought me out.

I tire of this land, Rydon said as he sat down. At times I even miss Palidland relative to these conditions.

There seems little doubt that they will not welcome us again, I said. We had initially fled the continent to Palidland in Gijae ships. There, the tribal elders welcomed us, especially the Gijaen Queen whose people the elders had traded with for many years. But then those same elders suspected that an invasion from Sarmissa was likely if they continued to harbor us. Their solution was to banish us even farther away to this island chain.

Our fleet which began with five ships, had been reduced to four when we had first arrived on the large island. When the elders forced us along, we moved from island chain to island chain and lost another ship along the way. The three that finally arrived on this particular island crashed into coral reefs leaving us with no transport at all. Our exile had been made permanent.

You would be surprised at what certain events can do to change the hearts of men, Rydon said with a whimsical smile.

There seemed something more to his words than just an idle comment. Have you heard of something?

A ship arrived today, Rydon said, his grin getting wider.

I couldn’t believe that I had not heard about that until now. Surely such an event would have caused a great stir. But then I remembered that I had been alone all day. The Palidlanders came to pay us a visit? I asked.

Sort of, he said. They came bearing a gift.

I furrowed my brow, confused as to why they would attempt contact us. After all, their strategy was to convince Sarmissa that they did not know where we were so they would be left alone. Did they change their minds and decide they needed to hand us in to Istrisk in order to appease the king of the empire?

Rydon ran his hand through his thick brown hair. That’s an interesting thought but it appears that such an option is no longer available to them.

I have no idea what you are talking about, I said, realizing that I would never guess as to why they had arrived.

They came to give us the boat, Rydon said simply.

For what purpose? I asked. Where are we to go?

They would like us to return to the continent, he said. We are their only hope to stop Sarmissa.

Palidland was invaded? I asked.

Yes, Rydon said and now his grin turned into something more sour. The elders finally understand the extent of King Istrisk’s need to control everything. A little late, I must say, but not impossibly late. Their land may be saved yet.

I don’t see the Palidlanders standing up well to the forces that Sarmissa can offer, I said. Do you see it any differently?

No, Rydon said. Their only hope is that Sarmissa leaves on their own volition. That is why our help is sought. This is the fortunate turn that we all have been waiting for. Our time in exile is about to end.

I thought about that, wondering where we could go. Surely you do not intend to return to the continent? I do not like this situation any more than you but not to the point that I no longer wish to live. And surely the Sarmissans would see no advantage in having us stay alive.

I do mean to go back to the continent, he said, but not to the waiting arms of the empire. . . . Do you recall the conversations we have had regarding what we could do to restore our freedom if given the opportunity?

Sure.

I have given that matter much more thought than just our exchanges. I have imaged how exactly we can tip the scales in our favor and defeat the empire. We have not the numbers or the power to do so now, but we do have the element of surprise and a plan to bring Sarmissa to its knees in a day.

I don’t recall having discussed a plan, I said.

I have done this on my own, Athuro. It is a simple plan, which I believe speaks well in its favor. We will use that boat to return to the continent, to Sarmissa itself. We will then sneak into Valliss and assassinate the king while others sneak into the tower of the Southern Dominate and eliminate the Archpolette and his powerful force conjurers. With the strategic genius of Istrisk gone and the strength of the force conjurers depleted, the liberation of the continent will be at hand.

I paused, waiting for more. When I saw Rydon looking back at me expectantly, I realized I had heard it all. How do we simply walk into Valliss and kill the king?

It’s not as hard as it might appear, Rydon said. We can arrive secretly and sneak into the King’s castle. There we can catch him alone.

Noting the doubt on my face, he continued, You and I have talked at length of the people who live along the mountain range that borders Eastern Sarmissa. They are the key. If we use this ship to navigate to the marshlands at the southern edge of that mountain range, we will arrive on the continent without making the Sarmissans aware that we are there. If we can then connect with the mountain people, they can carry us along the range to a point which is near the capital of Valliss. If we move as a small group, we should have no problem finding a way of penetrating the castle.

The mountain people do not trust outsiders, especially those they do not know, I said. That’s a flaw in your plan.

But they know you, he said. You have built a relationship with them in your travels. They have also suffered under Sarmissan rule, and should be willing to help.

I can’t promise you that they will help, I said, worried that he had created expectations of me that I could not fulfill.

Athuro, he said in a quiet tone, thinking of strategies for toppling the Sarmissan Empire has been a passion of mine ever since I was torn away from my home. I am a smart man in military tactics, and I know the chances of any strike against our enemy stands against likely failure. But of all the options we have at our disposal, you must trust me that this plan I have created is the only one with a realistic chance of success. The possibilities of failure are not relevant. This is our only option. It is worth the risk that the mountain people will turn us away. However I believe they will not.

I felt very uncomfortable in asking those people for such a favor. Yet I had no argument that would convince Rydon to drop the idea. The resolve in his eyes was unmistakable. I understand the spirit of what you are trying to accomplish, and perhaps it will be as easy to kill the king as you suggest--.

I merely claim it is possible, Rydon said. I have said nothing about any of this being easy.

Regardless, how can it be possible to defeat the force conjurers? What use do blades have against their ability to repel attackers far away?

Rydon nodded as he looked out to sea. Indeed that poses the greatest risk to my plans, but there is still a reason for optimism here as well. Much like with the king, we will have the element of surprise with any attack we make. The strike against the Southern Dominate will need to be within their home, in the tower where their abilities are quite limited due to the confines of the rooms there. Without their power, they will be easy to defeat as they will be both unarmed and undefended by armor. We can kill these men, Athuro -- they are only men after all, despite their great power.

I shook my head. How do we know they will even be there? Won’t some be stationed across the lands?

Rydon placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. "We can scout ahead to ensure that both the king and the members of the Southern Dominate are there when we strike, this does not concern me.

"As for the question of whether they will all be there or not, I cannot say in complete certainty. And yet in the back of my mind, I think they will. The continent is won and their abilities are of little use with no armies to fight and no walls to tear down. At this point they only hold value with the knowledge that they exist will surely quell any rebellion that may otherwise try to resist the King – within or without the empire.

It seems natural to me that the King would keep these men close to him and far from his subordinates who might be tempted to steal their services away from him in a bid for the throne. Istrisk is not a trusting man, which of course works well toward his greatness. However this same trait provides a critical weakness in that all his conjurers will likely be consolidated in one place.

If this is such a weakness, then why would he not address it? I asked.

His greater concern is the Great Sarmissan Lords. They are all smart and powerful men. He must control them and limit any chance that they might play for the throne. That is his greatest fear. The thought that we would surface from exile to kill him and his clerics may not have actually crossed his mind.

I rubbed my eyebrow in thought, realizing that I had nothing to say that would damper his enthusiasm.

Rydon squeezed my shoulder again. "This is our chance. We can leave this place and take back that which has been taken from us. We are dying in exile. You, me, and those around us. I see it in the faces of men and women every day. My own guard, Sak, has fallen into depression despite my best efforts. We are all having to learn to live in a world in which we do not belong. Now a chance to change this is upon us. Our chance at just revenge. We must not let this pass.

I am telling you this because I need your help. I need your contacts with the mountain people to give us the access we need. And I need your sword by my side as we confront the King.

I looked up at him, shocked. I have not the skills necessary for that kind of endeavor. Nor, I admit with shame, the courage.

Look to me for your courage, Athuro, he said. You will be joined with others who can wield a blade, so you need not fear this.

But why have me along at all? I asked.

Because you have suffered enough in exile and nothing cleanses the pains of the past then by directing your path into the future with your own hands. I ask you to be involved every step of the way because I value you as a friend and know that this will prove to be the rejuvenation that you need.

We sat in silence as I looked out to the ocean. I knew that my mind would not be able to come to terms with these ideas until I had some time to myself. Having Rydon right at my side was too much for the mental focus I needed.

I will think about this, I promised. But what of the Queen? Have you told her of your idea? Surely she will not let the boat be used for anything that she does not approve.

Rydon grunted. She is not my queen and I have as much right to that vessel as she. But I will convince her about the wisdom of this plan. You need not worry about that. You should simply prepare to take control of your life.

* * *

At the present . . . .

The morning after we had killed our colleague of the past three years, I found myself wet and shivering with condensation. The sun could not be seen but the darkness began to lighten to signal the coming morning. Desperate for a fire, Walst and I scoured the woods for any kindling and wood that was not too wet to be useless.

We barely found enough pieces of wood to burn and leaves for kindling. Walst found a sturdy but flexible stick and a solid section of bark. He used the end of the stick to rub a niche into the bark. He rubbed that stick between his palms to turn it quickly. Where the end of the stick bore into the bark, a few leaves rested below on the ground. Walst continued at this activity at length, at times having to quit to catch his breath. The darkness completely dissipated and gave way to a heavily cloudy day. It would rain soon for sure.

Walst never asked for help, returning to his efforts to simply create a spark. I had assembled the pieces of wood into a loosely formed box, with one side open and filled with kindling.

He stopped suddenly and carefully moved the bark panel away. A small leaf glowed with an ember on its tip. Walst grabbed the leaf and gently blew on it to keep the spark alive. Then he placed it within the kindling and blew. For a moment nothing happened and it seemed the opportunity was lost. But then tendrils of smoke rose though the pieces of wood and the kindling caught fire. Walst threw more kindling, trying to fuel the combustion without smothering the flames. Miraculously, the wood above started to burn and we had done it. With care, Walst and I added more pieces of wood and poked at them to take the best advantage of the flames. Soon we had built it up enough so that it had become stable and burned brightly.

We both stood as close as we could stand, letting the heat dry our wet skin and clothes. Neither of us would leave the fire except to put more wood upon it. I noticed that my fingers had begun to feel less numb and they seemed quite sore.

Looking across the flames, I saw just how ragged Walst appeared. His light brown hair, normally wavy, was matted unevenly. Dirt covered his face in streaks. Blood soaked his upper left arm. He stared into the fire blankly and solemnly. He looked as I felt, albeit much worse.

How bad are your wounds? I asked.

He did not look up in reply. They are not deep. I am more bruised than hurt. I will be fine.

I took a moment to feel my torso with my hands. I felt sore when I breathed in, but I did not appear to have any broken bones. I too had my share of bruises, but had done well to avoid any real damage.

Looking out to the clearing, I saw Sak’s body like a mound rising from the grasses. I wondered if it was right to leave him that way or if we should bury him. I knew the answer was to plant him into the earth, but I had no strength to consider that now. I looked back to the fire.

Much time passed until we talked again. We both ate from our less than substantial provisions. Soon we would have to replenish them or attempt to live off the land. We also needed to know where we would go next, which implied that we needed to know what had just gone on before.

Why did he attack us? I asked.

Walst looked up. He has betrayed us. And from his words, I suspect this has been long in coming.

I considered that. Perhaps since the day he learned that you had killed your father? He clearly took that news personally, almost as an offense to his sensibilities. He wanted justice to be served, upon you and perhaps upon me for supporting you.

Walst shook his head. I sense that this has started long before that. He drew his weapon once we fled from the Confederation Army. Something there triggered him to act.

The vision of Yakesus dying, the General of the Confederation Army for whom I had developed great admiration, clouded my mind. Maldon had killed him within my sight. Yakesus had locked gazes with me as his body was pierced by Maldon’s sword. His haunting stare remained vivid in my mind.

I shook my head. What did you see when we approached the Confederation army?

I saw Gijaen infantry men fleeing and being struck down from behind.

I had noticed that too.

Walst continued, And I saw clerics hunted by other clerics.

That I had not noticed. Who was being the aggressor? I asked.

Conjurers from the Order Illusionus, Walst replied.

Are you sure? I asked.

Quite, he replied and locked gazes with me. "One of their victims was