Hunted

By Seth Giolle

King Ellor's third year is not going as planned. Grio.dyness leads his barbarian clan, The Wolf, in an ongoing assault on his rule. Villages and towns are left in ruin, and the animals keep coming back no matter how far he runs them into the ground. To make matters worse, a dark wizard is dealing in disease, and the dragons have started a war of their own on humanity. This was to be his year for glory, but everything around him is going up in flames. This is the third book in my Prequel Stories series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365354861

Seth Giolle

Seth Giolle was born on a small, rural farm in southeast Ontario. After Travelling throughout Canada in all its splendour, he once again makes Ontario his home.

Book preview

Hunted

Prequel Story 3

by Seth Giolle

0001

Prologue

History tells of an age when the world knew true calm. It was ruled by a good True King Ellor, and dragons filled the skies with all their colourful wonder. But darkness blossomed and flourished.

An evil wizard known as Auk Tria Yus is recorded as having spread potions and spells that turned friend against friend. The fiend crafted three magical blades and brought on the world’s first Darkening that burned the skies and spawned legions of dark wizard armies and bands of assassins that preyed on the innocent.

And Grio.dyness rose to power with his barbarian clan known as the Wolf. His barbarians met True King Ellor’s armies on the wasteland around what would later be his castle stronghold. They waged one final bloody battle, and he slew True King Ellor and took the throne to begin his equally dark rule.

There are other legends of those times: a man who could summon gold and built a city of wealth in the desert, what was then plains. There’s the tale of the fall of Sheava, a town and castle that equalled the True King’s castle. But fell nonetheless to unknown enemies.

These are the tales of those times.

These are the truths behind those tales.

Truth few have known before now.

Chapter One

Battle

Right front, stand strong! You’re losing focus Left Ebb. Sergeant Meisc, keep tighter control on your ranks. Leftenant Claniese, pay attention less the lines will fold again, and that cannot be allowed.

Yes, sire, Leftenant Claniese quickly replied, glancing about anxiously. Meisc, Etoc, prepare for drop. Archers, on my order!

Keep it tight, Claniese.

Yes, sire. Three, two, drop and fire!

On command, orders passed along and understood, the Front soldier line dropped to their knees. The Ebb, that second support row with their wide heavy shields kneeled forward, swords out.

Behind them, the archers in their dark brown flexible leather armour stood, crossbows loaded and ready, and fired. They then knelt, and the second row of archers rose and fired as well.

The Back support row, those soldiers standing abreast with Leftenant Claniese, just before King Ellor, remained where they were, ever ready for the call to do battle.

The barbarians surged in upon the Front hitting armour. As the bolts penetrated wooden wolf mask and thick fur, they flew back. Thirty fell into the surging mass behind them, but the others pushed past and over.

The second volley took them down.

Reform! came the call.

Leftenant Claniese blew a small, golden horn twice, and the archers dropped to their knees. The Front and Ebb tried to stand, but the barbarians were too quick and came down hard on the first soldiers they met. Maces and hammers crushed silver helmets, and swords found the seams in once pristine armour!

Fifteen men died in a quick second.

Ellor’s blue eyes watched them fall through his visor. A moment later, his Leftenant commanded the Back line into place, and King Ellor drew his sword from the top-most, black leather sheath at his back. He pushed through his archers and launched himself into the midst of battle!

The seams of his silver armour were gold, and a thin golden circlet rimmed his rounded helmet. The visor left an angled slot for vision. His hinged suit covered from below his ribs, all the way up. Dusty, grey mail covered his stomach blending with the armour from his waist down. The two sheaths, one now empty, its blade in use, sat on an angle across his back, and an ivory-tipped dagger was fitted snugly on his right thigh armour.

He wielded the shield on his right arm expertly, deflected a barbarian hammer wide, and plunged his sword into the chest of an attacker. Responding to a smell carried on the wind, Ellor dropped his head back. The mace and all its tiny, sharp spikes swung across and over his nose. He withdrew his blade and spun around. The blade’s edge dug into the new attacker in turn.

With a twist and rising pull, the sword came free, and King Ellor spun again. This time, the sword took the woman’s head, and the offending corpse fell back into the converging line of filthy, smelly, howling animals.

The Front line, reinforced by the Back, reformed around him, and Ellor returned to his place behind the Back supports and archers once more. He offered Leftenant Claniese a disgusted scowl.

Next time, the King spat, do as I say, and keep the commands and lines tight! Am I understood?

Claniese wore heavy, dark grey armour with little marks of distinction save random dents and a red wavy line emblazoned across the upper right of his breast plate: the mark of rank and duty. Still holding his sword ready in case the lines folded again, the Leftenant bowed his head.

Yes, your majesty. You have my apologies, and I can assure you it won’t happen again.

Ellor sneered inside his helmet. Those bright, blue eyes narrowed. And how can you assure me of that, Leftenant? It’s happened too often already. I do not detest killing these animals, but we won’t hold out as needed if our lines do not hold. Do you understand that? Do you comprehend the importance of us holding this position until Captain Rethol, our war mages, and the Main Guard arrive?

Leftenant Claniese nodded. Sergeants Meisc, Etoc, and other leftenants and sergeants around them shouted commands and fought when needed. The barbarians were pressing in on all sides.

All cardinal points were covered. At the centre of that circle, off to Ellor’s right, were at least ninety soldiers - waiting for assignment. They were the Advanced Guard. Today, they’d ridden with their King into battle against the barbarians.

They were what was left of the Advanced Guard.

Further out, beyond the solid wall of cursing, foul barbarians in their wooden Wolf masks and mouldy furs, beyond those war hammers, swords, and daggers that hacked and pummelled their defensive stance, beyond the current battle and throughout the broken homestead and bloodied lands, the other half of the Advanced Guard lay dead. They’d been brutally slain and mutilated in most cases, often mutilated more after death.

The barbarians were showing no mercy. And they were receiving none in return. Though the Advanced Guard had taken heavy casualties, the barbarian clan had taken its share as well. Though the Wolf outnumbered the remaining soldiers, many of their number littered the blood-soaked ground as well.

I can assure you it won’t happen again, your majesty, the Leftenant returned, swallowing carefully, because that was the last of our bolts. King Ellor’s eyes opened wide, and he pulled his helmet off, letting it dangle from his right hand.

Shoulder-length white hair clung to his sweaty skin in places. It stood up or angled off in others. The thin beard that usually lined his chin to exact measurement was looking rather unkempt.

We’re out on all fronts, Claniese continued, shaking his head with regret. We never expected to have to hold this position for this long, your majesty. They were to have been here by now. I’m sorry, my liege.

King Ellor gazed forlornly around, beyond their defensive lines, beyond that attacking horde, to those dead. Looking upon the battlefield now, it resembled more of a graveyard than anything else. How had he let his calculations go amiss? How come he hadn’t known they were running so low on resources?

The King’s upper lip curled. Estet! he snapped, turning as he spoke. Why wasn’t I informed of this? The Leftenant returned his attentions to the battle, helping save another breach. The King stepped further in and squared his shoulders. I brought you here to keep me informed.

Estet, robed in long white robes stepped towards his King. The bottom of his robes was turning quite brown, but the golden moon attached to his collar reflected the three suns beating down from above brilliantly.

My liege, he said, bowing respectfully.

Thin, grey hair rested neatly atop a shiny dome. Several green rings caught the suns’ light as he stood straight again, hands clasped together at his front.

Ellor barred his teeth for a moment. Well? What have you to say for yourself? he demanded.

Ellor looked around again. He could see the barbarian leader. His large serrated blade was carving its way through his men where he fought. The line on that front had folded in yet again, and supports were racing to fill the gaps from behind him. One soldier seemed to be holding his ground against Grio.dyness, but only just.

We of the Order are always at your disposal, Estet reassured his King, motioning to the other two men, their white robes looking much like his own. They were set up at different locations just inside the greater, Back line. They nodded in unison. We are your eyes, Estet continued, smiling uneasily, and we are sharing what we can to keep this position strong - as strong as we can help keep it.

Then where is my Main Guard, Ellor breathed, stepping dangerously closer, and where are my war mages? There are three of you, but you didn’t warn me of our dwindling bolt supply! What use are you to me if you don’t act as eyes for the King you claim to serve?

The King’s voice reached a breaking point, and he teetered, grimacing. Estet smiled apologetically. With a sweeping gesture, he moved in closer and lowered his voice. Your majesty, he spoke, nodding, your men are watching. Might I suggest we carry on more discretely?

Ellor closed his eyes and gathered his breath.

Estet smiled again. I apologize, sire, he added a moment later, but I was focused on making contact with our number that ride with Captain Rethol, or surely, I would have kept you informed.

Where are they? Ellor asked between clenched teeth.

Estet frowned. I don’t know, sire, and I can’t explain it. For some reason, our magics aren’t working beyond this circle. I can find no reason for this, but we are working on it.

King Ellor smiled, laughing at the irony. I’m glad you’re working on it, he breathed, stepping in closer still. There was calm on his face, but the directed quiet words expressed an opposite emotion. If we don’t die in the next few minutes with these animals pressing down upon us, he whispered darkly, his exhale on the other man’s cheek, perhaps you can then enlighten me.

Horns broke over the fighting. Ellor turned feeling hope return to the confines of his soul. His Main Guard at last! Regaining his air of calm, he directed his line of sight to that barbarian leader Grio.dyness: the scum that kept scurrying under rocks when his death drew near.

Should the Wolf continue to press in, they would surely die. There was a chance Ellor might be killed at the same time. He accepted that much. Calm, arrogant, and resilient confidence created an air of invincibility no matter the risks. Ellor had no doubt the animals would turn to run like they always did.

Leftenants, Sergeants, men-at-arms, he shouted, his voice projected wide and clear, push this filthy vermin back so our Main Guard can finish the job!

The orders were relayed through the ranks, and the soldiers fought with renewed vigour. The barbarians looked back and forth in clear confusion. Yes! Ellor thought, you’re all dead. Accept it. Finally die once and for all!

Along the edges of the battle field, the two hundred, mounted, Main Guard thundered out from forest cover. Captain Rethol, tall and stalky, rode before the rest. His armour showed three red lines at the top right of his breast plate, and a small round shield was mounted to his left arm.

Armoured horses wore polished silver chest, crown, and neck plates. Their riders wore full armour. Fresh archers stepped into place from behind Rethol’s ranks. Their shield guard stood ready behind. Arrows flew, artfully fired to avoid friendly bodies.

Barbarian bodies flipped over and sunk, red spraying those around them. Captain Rethol looked to his left, and bright brass horns blew again. His baritone cry joined the rest as the cavalry met their enemy!

Amid the scars, blood, and grime, Grio.dyness met Ellor’s illusion of confident control. The King added a cocky smile. He liked winning.

As predicted, the Wolf scattered.

Ellor felt the reality of how precarious their situation had really been. Those barbarians, pinned between what remained of their Advanced and the entirety of his Main Guard, tore their way through. Some, many, did die, but so many were able to slash and hack their way through and into the forest behind.

The Wolf faded into the shadows.

No! King Ellor rued, shaking his head. Not again. They couldn’t escape again. Follow them, he shouted. Hunt them down!

Captain Rethol turned his cavalry around, and followed. The Advanced Guard raced into the forest after him. Sixty soldiers remained with Leftenant Claniese in command. King Ellor turned on his High Advisor. There was disgust in his sneer, and the soldiers standing near averted their gaze.

Estet was speaking hurriedly with Ellor’s Lesser Advisors. There was a layer of sweat cover Estet’s shiny dome, and he played with his fine, green rings while the three men spoke. Kionel and Toosh, the Lesser Advisors were dressed the same but were clearly half of Estet’s age, and they were near shouting back and forth though nothing more than a hushed word could be heard.

With the sounds of pursuit fading into the woods, the whinnies of approaching horses brought King Ellor’s eyes back around. Ten riders in their white Order robes rode in from the east and pulled up short. Those ten regular Order members were led by three riders wearing dark brown robes with golden trims. King Ellor sneered.

His war mages had finally arrived.

The three war mages were specialized Order members. Whereas all Order members worked magic, most could only master the rudimentary spells. They could communicate with other Order members, mentally linked through their tie with one another. They could also summon a magical foresight and see great distances along with other simpler skills. Order members like Estet could do all that to a greater extent, hence his appointment as High Advisor. Then there were those Order members born with a stronger skill set.

War mages not only mastered the usual array of magical tricks. They also excelled at elemental magic like fire and lightning. As such, they took a place of prestige in the Order and gained status. The meaning of the dark brown robes was lost to Ellor, and he didn’t really care. He figured the gold trim to their robes hinted at an unspoken avarice, but they always came up with another translation for that one when he brought it up.

The three war mages looked respectfully to King Ellor and bowed, but he saw through it. He could play the game as well as anyone. He nodded curtly in return.

Their expressions showed the learned arrogance many of their Order number carried whether they wore white or brown. No, Ellor corrected himself. They were all like that - thinking themselves better than even him, not that they’d ever say as much.

If they weren’t needed for battle, he’d have given them menial jobs a long time gone. Modesty would do wonders for their kind. Of course, if they kept showing up late, he might rethink their actual level of need.

The arrival of his war mages at that very moment didn’t answer any questions or cure any unease. It just caused more questions to arise.

Ellor needed to gather his thoughts, so he let Estet have his quiet discussion for a time. Maybe his High Advisor could come up with an explanation why, with all of his skills, he’d slipped up so direly at the worst possible moment!

Standing there, trying to be patient when the last he wanted to do was stand still, away from the action, it hit Ellor hard. Estet had been right before.

He’d let his emotions block his perception of their situation. He’d let himself miss their dwindling bolt supply. He couldn’t blame Estet alone, and his men were watching his every move, word, and twitch carefully. His response, when delivered, needed to be well thought out. He knew all that, but he’d