Sorcerer's Triumph

By W. H. Cann

The Mattonian army, its ranks swollen by soldiers from the kingdoms of Heltronia, Ceredia and Torbaen, and now commanded by Alayn the mercenary, faces the mighty army of the Lekara on the battleground of Alayn’s choosing. The fate of the Kingdoms of Ferantiana lay in the outcome of the battle, but the odds favour the Lekara, and the Lekaran sorcerers use their magical power to manipulate both armies in order to achieve the victory.

Davit, having arrived bearing the gift of a sword imbued with magic for Alayn, believes he will face the Lekaran sorcerers alone, and with only two pieces of the amulet. Will his nephew, Sortar the Subtle, arrive in time to fight alongside his uncle against the powerful Lekaran sorcerers, Xeraton, Gabroel and Terandol, break their spells impacting on the Mattonian army and defeat them.

Katriana is determined to join the battle against the Lekaran sorcerers. Disobeying her uncle’s command, and with the help of the Alsias dragon, Jehagondosiris, she flies to Mattonia and together, wreak havoc among the ranks of the enemy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: W. H. Cann
• Release date: Jul 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005745721

W. H. Cann

I am an indie author of science fiction and fantasy novels. I live in Pembrokeshire, Wales, am married with two children, and three grandchildren.I have served with the Royal Air Force as a dual trade aircraft engineer after completing a 3 year apprenticeship, run my own business for several years until a back injury prevented me from continuing, and then entered the world of finance. I am currently employed as a Local Government Finance Officer.I have been a passionate reader since early childhood, but was introduced to the fantasy genre at the age of 10 when my father gave me some Conan books and the Thongor of Lemuria series by Lin Carter. I did not actually start writing until my mid thirties, after injuring my back and was off work for a while. It was then that I first penned the drafts of the Science Fiction series The Guardians, followed by the fantasy series The Chronicles of Ferantiana.My favourite activities other than writing are walking, reading, researching family history, watching classic British Sitcoms, good dramas and films, and listening to music.W. H. Cann

Book preview

The Chronicles of Ferantiana

Volume One - Book Three

Sorcerers Triumph

W. H. Cann

W.H. Cann asserts the moral right to

be identified as the author of this work

Copyright 2002 W. H. Cann

Published by W. H. Cann

First Edition July 2022

Cover Illustration W. H. Cann

Copyright 2022 W. H. Cann

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, or organisations are entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contents

Title

Copyright

Contents

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Chapter 09

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Books by W. H. Cann

Chapter One

Kingdom of Mattonia, Spring 2,203

It was a cool, bright and pleasant day, one of the most pleasant they had experienced since leaving Heltronia almost three weeks earlier. Alayn walked at the head of the group with his closest friend, Barock, walking beside him. They walked in silence, simply enjoying the fine weather. For three days they had been travelling along an established track leading south-east, but had not yet encountered a single person. The track was in a good state of repair, even though it showed signs of advanced deterioration in various places along the route.

The sun was reaching its zenith and white clouds drifted lazily across a pale blue sky. A cool breeze was blowing from the east, which all travellers found exceptionally refreshing after the heat of Pembrolia. So far the journey through Mattonia had been relatively easy, despite having to follow the track over constantly undulating ground. None of the hills they traversed were steep or very long, that was until now. They had been travelling uphill since they had set off after sunrise, and everyone was feeling the strain.

As Alayn reached the crest, he caught sight of Mallerna castle in the distance. Even at this distance, it was easy to discern how large the castle appeared to be. It was the largest and most impressive of all the castles that had been built in Ferantiana. Even Gaslone castle, the seat of power in Gaslot, the first kingdom created, was dwarfed by that of Mattonia.

Alayn stopped and crossed his arms, where he waited for the rest to catch up with him. Barock appeared at his side, followed shortly after by Filip, both of whom stood gazing south-east toward the castle.

We cannot be that far now, said Filip.

Alayn laughed. At least another three days at the pace we are travelling.

Filip turned to look at the mercenary. You jest, Alayn. It cannot be more than a day’s march.

For a division of fit soldiers at full pace, maybe, but we have got villagers and wagons to consider.

Still, I am sure we can encourage them to move a little faster, suggested Filip.

The others might not need encouraging when they see the castle, countered Barock.

Alayn watched the expressions of the people and Heltronian soldiers as they crested the hill and began the trek down the other side. The villagers became excited and muttered cheerfully among themselves when they saw the castle in the distance, but the soldiers remained silent, their expressions betraying their concerns. Alayn was not surprised at this. They were approaching the castle of the kingdom their former king had intended to conquer, and were sure the Mattonians knew of that intent.

There was little to be worried about as far as Alayn was concerned. Mattonia was known for its friendly behaviour toward visitors who had genuine reasons for travelling through the kingdom. Even so, it was possible the soldiers would be turned away. If that happened, he knew most of the villagers would go with them, including Eielan and her parents. Without Rosann at his side, his only other reason for remaining in Mattonia was to offer assistance in defending the realm against the Heltronian army.

Come on Alayn, they are leaving us behind, said Filip. When the mercenary failed to respond, the centurion nudged him, startling him from his thoughts.

What? Oh, sorry. I was deep in thought, he replied.

Yes, I can see that, said Filip. It must have been something important.

Barock smiled. It was, but nothing he would want to discuss.

Alayn turned to look at his friend and smiled despite the mood he was in. Life must go on my friend, even if it is the life that was not planned. He sighed lightly and then followed the group down the hill.

When they stopped to make camp at sundown on the sixth day travelling through Mattonia, Alayn estimated they were now about a day’s journey from the castle. The excitement of seeing Mallerna Castle had encouraged the villagers to increase their pace, which had a positive effect on the soldiers. Alayn now believed they could arrive at the castle a day earlier than expected.

Alayn was first to awake in the morning, and was soon followed by Barock and Filip. They stood together facing east, enjoying the cool crisp morning air. In the distance, the tops of the castle towers were visible above the low lying mist that covered the land. It was an eerie sight, but one they were pleased to see.

An impressive sight, do you not think, said Barock.

It is much larger than Heltron castle, that is for sure. It is no wonder Garoth set his sights on Mattonia.

Alayn laughed. He would have been hard pressed to breech it’s defences.

What do you mean by that? enquired Filip.

You will see, if we are allowed to enter inside, replied Alayn as he began walking toward the forward sentry.

Do you honestly think they will welcome us and allow us into their castle?

The mercenary stopped and turned to face Filip. Not straight away, but they will eventually.

What if they do not?

We will deal with that when it happens.

After checking on the sentries, Alayn went to get some breakfast. He spooned a large quantity of porridge into a bowl, added some honey, and then sat outside his tent to eat. Half way through his bowl, he noticed Eielan strolling toward him carrying two large cups of tea.

I thought you might like a drink, she said handing him one of the cups.

Thank you, he said and smiled warmly.

It is such a lovely morning. The air is crisp and fresh; so much more pleasant than it was in Pembrolia.

Alayn nodded without replying, being distracted by the sight of the scouts galloping hastily back to camp.

Will we reach the castle today?

Yes, at about mid-day if we do not remain here longer than we need to, said Alayn as he got up and began walking to meet the scouts. Barock and Filip joined him.

Alayn, there is a group of armed soldiers riding in this direction.

How long before they reach us?

By mid-morning. They do not appear to be in a hurry.

Then we must be ready to meet them. Filip, make sure your men are prepared, but do not give the impression we are expecting trouble or intend to incite conflict.

Filip turned to look at the mercenary. You were expecting this, were you not?

Alayn smiled. Did you truly believe we would be allowed to approach the castle without being met by a force large enough to deal with any trouble?

I guess not.

Owain, keep watch on the group and inform me when they are within a couple of miles.

When Owain returned to the camp a while later, Alayn was already standing at the camp perimeter, Barock and Filip either side of him. The rest of the mercenaries were gathered behind them, but the Heltronian soldiers were grouped farther back, keeping a low profile. At Alayn’s instructions, everyone had packed, the carts loaded, and all were ready to move off. Hope was high, but there was concern about why they were not heading off straight away.

As the Mattonian riders neared, Alayn was able to make out the emblems fluttering at the top of the standards carried by two riders at the front. One represented the Bear Legion, the great Terran Bear; the other was the emblem of Mattonia, the great Golden Eagle of the northern mountains, which suggested a representative of the council was among the group.

He estimated there was about eighty riders, at least twenty of whom were wearing armour comprising both leather and metal. He presumed these must be the elite of the Mattonian army, those individuals who proved their skills in battle and their loyalty to their kingdom, and were often referred to as Knights of the Realm.

The group reigned in about twenty yards in front of Alayn. The horses stood motionless without making a sound, and not one soldier moved a muscle. They all appeared to carrying the thirty inch double-edged broadswords, favoured by warriors from many of the kingdoms in the eastern regions of Ferantiana. It was an impressive show of discipline and power. The rider at the centre made the slightest movement, which few would have noticed, and the horse walked several yards in front of the rest. He was not attired in battle armour, but there was no doubt in Alayn’s mind that he was one who had seen battle, and was also an experienced horseman.

The Mattonian dismounted, stepped in front of his horse and faced Alayn, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The ensuing silence was broken by the sound of the mercenaries forming a semi-circle behind their leader, followed shortly afterwards by the Heltronian soldiers. Some stood with their arms hanging by their sides, some rested a hand on the hilt of their swords, but all of the mercenaries stood firm with their arms crossed over their chests; a show of defiance and confidence.

A few horses snorted, and then, without an obvious command being given, the Mattonian riders fanned out into a semi-circle behind their commander, two ranks deep. When they were in position, the Mattonian commander walked toward Alayn, his expression showing no fear, only confidence and authority. He stopped a few feet away and the two continued facing each other without utterance. Their eyes flickered over each other, assessing each other’s stance and weighing up their resolve. Both the Mattonian and the mercenary remained calm, focussed, and silent. Neither showed any sign of making a sudden move.

Alayn sensed the tension rising in the Heltronians behind, but was impressed by their discipline in remaining still. Filip had trained them well, and would prove to be valued fighters when the moment came. He could see the knights directly behind the Mattonian commander were also highly disciplined, not that he was surprised. Not one of those he could see was resting a hand on the hilt of a sword, which demonstrated a confident arrogance in their skill and efficiency as both fighter and horseman.

At the slightest movement in the Mattonian’s eyes, both he and Alayn began circling each other. They walked slowly, but purposefully, neither making a sudden movement as they continued assessing each other. Alayn knew the other was waiting for him to make the first move, to betray his intent for being in Mattonia. He refused to cooperate and resisted the urge to smile. He would wait for as long it took for the Mattonian to make the first move.

Alayn did not have to wait long.

The Mattonian drew his sword skilfully in a swift and effortless stroke, and without pause, aimed a deadly strike at Alayn. The mercenary responded with equivalent speed, drawing and raising his sword to block the attack in one swift move. Blades crashed together, the ring of steel sounding clearly in the silence.

Strike after strike, the mercenary defended perfectly and effortlessly, blocking, parrying and deflecting everything thrown at him, never once seeking to attack. He was impressed with the Mattonian’s skill, knew he had been highly trained, and had most probably fought in more than one battle. The Mattonian tried everything he knew to unsettle the mercenary, but nothing would provoke the mercenary into attacking, dropping his guard, or making a mistake.

After a rather furious onslaught, Alayn saw the tell-tale sign given by his opponent. Both disengaged and stepped back simultaneously, lowering their swords to the en-guard position before nodding once and sheathing them.

The Mattonian stepped forward one pace. I am Josef, one of the ten who sit on the ruling council of Mattonia. Welcome to our Kingdom, although I must apologise for the unusual preliminary welcome.

Alayn nodded. Your welcome is appreciated, Sire, and your apology is not required. I am Alayn of Buckronia, and as you have already gathered, a mercenary, and these are the men who stand with me.

I compliment you on your fighting skills, Alayn of Buckronia. I have never seen a warrior with such discipline and restraint in a fight. Your defence was perfect, and, please call me Josef.

You have my thanks, Josef. Fighting is my trade, which I learnt from the best.

Josef was nodding gently as he wondered to whom Alayn referred. Tell me then, with whom did you last fight?

Is it of any concern?

It is considering you have Heltronians among you.

Then it was Heltronians I last fought with, and then against, but not those who now accompany me.

Josef’s brow creased in a shallow frown, puzzled by Alayn’s words. Then I must ask; are they loyal to you … or their former King? The reaction of many of the Heltronians did not go unnoticed by Josef.

They fight beside me and my friends because my enemy is now their enemy, and they do not take kindly to accusations of divided loyalty.

Josef nodded. So you were paid by Garoth to fight for him. And now?

Now Garoth is my enemy, and we come to Mattonia to offer our services to you and your kingdom. Alayn saw the suspicion in Josef’s eyes. "Yes, we were in the service of Garoth. That was until we learnt of his true ambitions, which were contrary to our agreement for entering into his service. He became untrustworthy, was without honour, cared nothing for the people of his kingdom or beyond, and cared only for his own greed and glory.

More of this will I reveal in due course. Suffice to say, our loyalty and allegiance cannot remain with one such as him. We may be mercenaries, Josef, but we live and fight by a code of honour than prevented us from continuing in his service. Alayn paused a few moments. If it pleases you, I am willing to turn my sword over to you until we have proven my words are true.

Alayn drew his sword and proffered it hilt first to the Mattonian.

Josef scrutinised the mercenary for a few moments. He was an excellent judge of character, and few had ever proved him wrong. That will not be necessary, Alayn of Buckronia. You should reach Mallerna castle just after noon. You will be welcomed, but be warned, there are some who do not trust those that hail from Heltronia, not even women and children.

Your warning is appreciated, Josef. Until later, then.

Josef nodded, returned to his horse, mounted, and then led his troop back toward the castle, their horses kicking up a cloud of dust.

Alayn watched them riding away, saying nothing, thinking nothing. Filip and Barock appeared at the mercenary’s side, Filip sporting a deep-set frown. What was that all about?

Alayn did not respond.

Alayn?

There is nothing to be concerned about, Filip.

Nothing to be concerned about! exclaimed Filip with incredulity. He drew sword against you, a challenge not to be taken lightly. Or am I misunderstanding the situation? he asked, his face screwed up in puzzlement.

Alayn laughed loudly and saw that Filip did not appear amused. He was merely testing my intent. If I had drawn first, or retaliated by going on the offensive with the intent to injure or kill, Josef would have considered our presence a serious threat, and most probably acting as an advance raiding party. A command from him and his knights would have slaughtered us mercilessly.

That is very reassuring, but how do you know that was what he was doing? It could so easily have been a trick, an excuse to kill us without even bothering to determine why we are here.

He has a point, Alayn, said Barock.

It is, or was in ages past, a customary way of testing the loyalty of a warrior. Few regard it a worthy method nowadays, except for this Mattonian. I find it very intriguing, but very encouraging.

Encouraging? Peculiar is what I would say, admitted Barock.

If Josef acts in the old ways in greeting armed visitors, then he is most probably a warrior of honour, and hence, trustworthy. I believe our journey might not be in vain after all.

Barock looked at his friend and sighed. Well, you have rarely been wrong when judging people, so perhaps destiny is on our side.

Alayn smiled. Of course it is.

By mid-day, the group was close enough to Mallerna Castle to see the moat surrounding it, and formed in a long line in front of that was a troop of cavalry. Alayn estimated there to be in excess of two hundred riders, and at least fifty of those wore battle armour. The standards flying at the centre were the Golden Eagle of Mattonia and the Terran Bear. When he saw several riders heading toward them, he halted the group of travellers and mounted his horse. Accompanied by Barock, Filip, and three other mercenaries, they rode out to meet the welcoming party.

The two groups reigned in about two yards apart.

Welcome, Alayn. Forgive me for any concern you might be feeling due to the presence of so many horsemen. The ruling council are more suspicious than myself, and insisted on taking precautions.

That is understandable, Josef. Your kingdom is threatened, but I can assure you it is not by us. As a gesture of our intent, all who are allowed to enter the castle will do so unarmed, including myself.

That will not be necessary, Alayn, although the gesture is noted and proves you are here in peace. It will be relayed to the members of the Ruling Council. Now, if you are all prepared, we will accompany you to the castle.

Alayn turned to face Filip. The soldiers are to walk alongside the villagers wagons, one line either side, but they must put their arms on the wagons. No soldier is to remain armed as a gesture of goodwill.

Filip looked alarmed. Is that wise?

That gesture would be most beneficial and I appreciate it, admitted Josef. It will also add much credence to your peaceful intent.

Filip nodded and returned to the main group.

Chapter Two

Breton Castle, Kingdom of Battora

Terandol was extremely displeased with his father, Gabroel. From the moment he had returned to the castle, he started giving his apprentice instructions as if nothing he had been doing was of any concern. Then his father spoke of what occurred during the time he spent in Pembrolia searching for the lost amulet. He spoke freely, but Terandol knew there were things he refrained from divulging. This cause him little concern because he knew exactly what had happened, and he himself was keeping things from his father, especially regarding his latest discoveries and successes.

Terandol no longer regarded his father as his Master, whom he knew was weakening to the point where he would be of reduced benefit to the cause of the Lekara, which at this moment in time, was different to what Terandol had set in motion. This weakness had been proved by Gabroel’s failures in Pembrolia, and despite his father’s belief that he was still a powerful sorcerer, his power had become insignificant when compared to his own.

Terandol was becoming frustrated and annoyed. He needed to scry out King Garoth regularly every day to ensure the spells he cast remained in place, and that he did exactly what the young sorcerer wanted him to do. Unfortunately, his father’s habit of continually disturbing him when he needed to be alone, was distracting him from this important task. His primary concern was the timing of Garoth’s conquest of Mattonia. If the king marched too early, there was a high probability it could fail, and that would adversely affect all of his other plans.

My son, said Gabroel disturbing Terandol from his thoughts, will Heltronia make our conquest of Mattonia easy?

Terandol stared coldly at his father. They will make it easier, much easier. Mattonian soldiers are tougher and generally more skilled fighters than those of Heltronia, so with fewer of them left, our soldiers will sweep the remainder away with ease.

Gabroel frowned. But Mattonia has not fought as many battles as Heltronia, so how can they be so strong and so skilled?

The young sorcerer gritted his teeth and then swallowed hard as he struggled to suppress his growing frustration and anger toward his father. ‘When will you learn to ascertain more than just what events are transpiring?’ thought Terandol as he sighed lightly. He wanted to lash out verbally at his father for his inability to see with his spirit and his magic, and for his continued reliance on what he saw and heard. Fighting battles is not the only way to achieve the skill and strength attained by the Mattonians.

He sensed the unasked question his father had on his mind. No, father, we do not need to worry about the outcome of the battle, only that no other kingdoms rally to their aid, and of course, that Garoth does not attack too soon.

Gabroel rubbed his chin in thought. How can we prevent him attacking before our army is fully prepared? He is bound to head north very soon.

No, he will not. Garoth will wait until summer arrives, when the ground is at its hardest and when the omens indicate an extended period of dry weather is coming. Spring storms are a serious problem in the north-eastern region of the this land, or so I have heard, and that is when the Mattonians would prefer him to attack.

Why is that? Surely they would prefer dry weather to fight in.

Because Mattonian soldiers are as skilled at fighting in wet conditions as they are in dry. They do not shirk away from training in adverse conditions. In fact, it is an integral part of their training.

You appear to be very confident in your assessment of Garoth and his intentions.

Terandol saw the essence of suspicion in his father’s eyes and sensed it in his speech, and by his words knew without doubt that his father lacked confidence in him as a sorcerer. As you are aware, Master, he said, trying to keep his tone even and void of anger, "I have studied both the tactics and the habits of the peoples who abide in the kingdoms of Ferantiana. They are, to say the least, strange. Most are creatures of habit, preferring to endure whatever fate throws at them, even to the point of suffering.

There are those who are capable of committing the most heinous acts upon their own people and their enemies. They can be corrupt, power hungry, and extremely selfish, and yet they are capable of demonstrating extreme loyalty and kindness. Many of their actions are interlaced with honour and pride, such as their conduct in battle.

You have obviously been busy, my son. Is there anything else you have gleaned that I might need to know.

Most of what I have discovered can be gleaned by speaking with the Battorans. The rest is freely available in numerous scrolls available in the castle or the town’s library. Terandol saw the flicker of suspicion and doubt in his father’s eyes, something most would have missed, even sorcerers, but not the young Lekaran. He had learnt to examine every detail, to watch every movement, and to take note of any snippet of information, regardless of how small or insignificant it might be.

Terandol found his father’s suspicion most irritating, and served to confirm his belief about his father’s weakness and insecurity.

The spells and other skills he had