The Warlord's Crown

By JAMES DITTMAR

A warlord rises from the west, rampaging across the Kingdom of Oaktar, leading his minions with the power of a mysterious crown.

 

Three mercenaries, the last survivors of the Nightfall Rangers are trying to return home and are caught up in events that could shape the world.

 

A healer, follower of the Goddess Mortia, leaves her home at the behest of her deities prophecy.

 

A dark sorceress, follower of an fallen god, plots revenge.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JAMES DITTMAR
• Release date: Aug 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223952831

JAMES DITTMAR

James Dittmar lives in Cedar Rapids, Iowa with his wife and two sons.  When not writing or fishing, he spends his days playing video games with his kids, trying to keep his motorcycle running, and playing make belive in his head, avoiding any real work that he can, all while enjoying a dram of a nice Irish Whiskey.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The old farmer looked up from his field as the trio crested the hill overlooking the valley his family had farmed for generations.  Even from this distance he could see that they had been battered and hurt by their gait and even as he watched the largest of the group picked up one of his companions to carry over his shoulder.  The old man smirked as he heard the loud objections from the smaller man.  As they came closer, he began to wonder if he shouldn’t have made himself scarce sooner; he could see their well-worn weapons now, the blood and grime that covered the group.  But too late now, he thought as he stood himself straighter and gripped his hoe with his gnarled hands, hoping he wouldn’t have to try to defend himself with nothing more than a tool.  He chided himself that he would not forget his bow and quiver in the future but knew himself well enough to admit that after a few days without incident, he would indeed forget again.

Well met travelers, the old man called out as the group got closer.  Apparently, they had been so preoccupied with their own progress that they hadn’t even noticed him.  The large man dropped his compatriot, who let out a whimper as he hit the ground and pulled an axe from his back that looked large enough to split a pig in two with one swipe.  The third man looked startled, but kept his sword sheathed, though his eyes narrowed like a cat ready to pounce or run as the situation demanded. 

Damn it Runar! the dropped man yelled at his companion from the ground, That goblin’s arrowhead is still in me and you dropped me right on it you oaf!  I told you I didn’t need carried to begin with, why did you- and he cut off as he saw the others staring apprehensively at the old man.  He pulled a dagger out of torn clothes somewhere but didn’t look in any condition to use it.

Hello good sir spoke the swordsman.  He stepped forward past the others in a position that made it plain that he was the one who spoke for the group.  Seeing the farmer for who he was and the farmhouse in the distance seemed to have settled the man’s nerves some, but his hand still did not stray from the hilt of his sword.  I don’t suppose you know where we could find a healer, a roof, some food, and most importantly a drink?  Not even necessarily in that order. 

Healer FIRST! the man on the ground forced through grit teeth, trying to stand, leaning against the still quiet axe carrier.

Fine, fine, responded the swordsman, Healer first if you please, friend.  My name is Jagger. The big, quiet guy is Runar, and our mouthy friend here is Devery.  We are the Nightfall Rangers, mercenaries at your service. And you are? 

The old man, a little taken aback by the cavalier tone of the swordsman, answered, My name in Marlick.  There is a village about another ten miles further east, but you won’t make it by nightfall, and the road can be treacherous on foot. 

No shit! the injured man, Devery exclaimed, We were attacked by band of filthy goblins last night! I thought this area was supposed to be quiet and safe. 

It was, Marlick replied, at least until a few months ago.  A gobbo tribe moved into the hills. Something has them all stirred up.  They leave the settlements and farms alone for the most part but have been causing havoc with traders and travelers.  I suppose that explains why you ended up cutting through our valley, and not the road.  Timberwich, the town yonder, has a troop of town guard, but not enough to go hunting through the hills to run down the goblins.  I’ve heard they sent for help from the garrison at Twin Mist Tower, but I haven’t been to town lately to hear if there has been a response yet.  Marlick stopped, and looked at the setting sun, seemed to be having an internal debate, before sighing, and looked back at the ragtag group.  I suppose you can stay tonight in the barn.  I have some stew on, I can spare you some, and tomorrow we can take my wagon and team into town.  I need to pick up some supplies and sell some produce to some of the market stall vendors anyhow.  But expect to help load the wagon in the morning, and if those goblins try to attack us, I expect you to put those weapons you carry to use before your feet to run away! He quickly added.

That would be fantastic Marlick, you are a true gentleman, Jagger exclaimed immediately.  Let me take Devery to the barn now and set up, Runar can help you wrap up your duties, and help if the goblins come down into the valley. 

Not necessary Marlick answered, but then thought better of after looking again at the hulking Runar.  But I suppose a little help will get things done quicker.  The barn is straight down there, my wife Marla is at the house, let her know I sent you down, and that we will follow shortly.  With that Marlick turned back to his field, shouting instructions to Runar to follow, and Jagger helped Devery follow the path down to the yard surrounding the barn and farmhouse.

I don’t want to sleep in some smelly barn! Devery hissed at Jagger as they made their way down, the house growing larger as they walked, I should never have let you talk me into travelling with you.  I was perfectly happy lounging around my father’s manor, in quiet study of the arcane all day and chasing the maids and drinking all night. 

Jagger laughed it off. This was obviously not the first time he had heard this complaint.  You were miserable there and you know it.  You jumped at the chance to have a real adventure and make a name for yourself.

Things were different then and you know it Jagger.  There were more of us then, and now there is just the three of us left.  I don’t blame you, they made their choice and signed up for that silly war, but we should have just gone back home after that. There’s not much need for a mercenary band of three.

I can’t argue with that unfortunately, Jagger responded.  Still, there is nothing to do about it right now.  Best to rest up tonight, get a ride to town tomorrow and hopefully get that stick removed from your ass. His eyes twinkled with mirth as he looked over at his friend.

It’s an arrow that broke off in my hip and I really wish you would stop referring to it as a ‘stick in my ass’! Devery snapped before seeing Jagger’s face and realizing he was jesting. But seriously Jagger, this can’t go on.  You know Runar will follow you to the end, but that is what you will lead us to.  The end.  If we can’t figure something out, and soon, we need to face facts and disband.  We had a good run, made some money, had some adventures, lost friends, broken some hearts, but with the war between the Border Kingdoms Confederacy and the Oaktar Kingdom, things are just too dangerous for a small band.  We can’t just pick up jobs taking out a bandit gang, or marauding gobbos with just the three of us, and I refuse to fight in that stupid war again.  I am ready to go home.  Timberwich is only a week or so from my father’s estates near Nightfall Forest.  I say we get rested, healed, drunk, maybe laid, and then head there.

Jagger sighed, his head hanging, knowing that his friend spoke the truth, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.  Then he smiled, seeing a chance to harass his friend one more time, Well I suppose we could head there.  I am sure Angela would love to see me again.  I am sure she would be awed by the stories I have to tell from our travels.  She would be how old now?  She used to have such a crush on me, didn’t she?

Devery sputtered, Keep away from my sister you filthy dog!  I know where you have lain in our travels, and trust me, she will want nothing to do with a pig like you!

Oh, you pain me Devery, Jagger responded in mock disbelief.  But in all seriousness, if you want to return home, and Runar is agreeable, we will head there next. Seeing Devery relax, he could not help adding, And I will leave your sister be, but cannot promise what will happen if she comes on to me, with a laugh as Devery’s face went from relieved to sour.  But we are approaching the farmhouse, and I take it that is Marlick’s wife.

What was her name again? Devery inquired.

Jagger shook his head, he loved his childhood friend dearly, but even after years travelling as a mercenary, he still had an upper-class way of not ranking the lower classes important enough to remember any but the most important details about them. Marla is her name Devery.  He waved to the portly woman as they approached, Good evening Goodwife Marla! he called Your husband, Marlick sent us ahead with a promise of stew and a roof over our head in the form of your barn.  She had a look of a woman who had no humor and Jagger could tell it was going to be a long night.

That night they made themselves comfortable in the barn, bellies full of surprisingly delicious mutton stew, cleaned of the grime of the road, and the freshest of blood stains and wearing a mishmash of borrowed clothing. Goodwife Marla was not about to let them sit at her table the way they had looked when they arrived.  She had turned out to be as no nonsense as feared, but fiercely caring also, demanding to have them turn over their clothes for cleaning and sewing overnight and bandaging their wounds as best she was able to. The trio then reflected on their next move. 

We will go to this village, Timberwich, and see the healer that Marlick says resides there, stock up supplies, and head to the estate at Nightfall.  From there, if you still want to stay Devery, Runar and I will figure where we will go next.  Jagger said to the others.  Runar just nodded as he prepared himself for sleep, but Devery looked incredulous.

Why!? he asked.  We talked about this, there is no point in going on.  Just settle down like normal people.

And do what? Jagger asked. We don’t all have rich families! Do you see me a farmer, like Marlick?  A shopkeeper maybe?  A logger for your father? And maybe you can hire Runar as doorman?  I get it, you liked your life, but I hated mine, and I don’t plan on going back to it.

Devery looked hurt, angry, and a little shocked at Jagger’s outburst.  Life wasn’t that bad when we were kids.  My father looked after you and your mother when your father died, it’s not like you were beaten and starved.  We can find you something.

Forget it, Jagger responded, laying himself down.  You wouldn’t understand, and I’d rather not argue about.  Dawn comes early and Marlick wants an early start so he can be back before dark.

Devery looked over to Runar, shook his head and laid down himself.  Runar, for his part, kept his own opinion on the matter to himself.  He was an outsider here in the south, his people were from the barren Northlands.  He had been captured in a raid he took part in as a child, and knew he was lucky to have escaped a harsher life, if not death, when Jagger’s father, at the time the captain of Devery’s fathers’ guards, took him under his wing.  He could have returned to his people but saw the other two as his family after so many years and adventures.  He disliked the idea of them splitting up but knew there was no point worrying about it until the time came.  He too laid himself in the hay and fell asleep to the sound of the other’s snores (not that either would admit to snoring, always blaming the other). 

Chapter 2

Marlick had woken them up before dawn to get their help in getting the wagon loaded and they were off at first light, with some type of local hard cheese, fresh baked bread, and dried fruit for breakfast on the road. The ride to Timberwich went as expected, if uneventfully.  Jagger immediately jumped up to take the spot beside Marlick at the driver’s bench, leaving the others to ride in back with the produce Marlick was taking to sell to the stall merchants and traders in Timberwich. Devery grumbled, complained, and moaned at every bump in the road (though with his wounds, this once he could be forgiven), but Runar took it all in his normal quiet manner, with no complaints, silently watching the lands go by as if waiting for an attack that never occurred, munching away on the raw produce as his hunger dictated. 

It was now just nearing midday and Timberwich was slowly coming into view as Marlick’s lean work horses trundled the cart down the road towards the town.  In truth Timberwich was more village than town, but the trio were not about to complain (at least not too loudly around Marlick) after weeks in the wilderness.  All they really needed was for there to be a tavern, a healer and hopefully somebody to buy supplies from that they could afford. If supplies were too much they would make do with the beer and mead and survive off hard tack rations and what they could gather while travelling. They had in the past, and undoubtedly would again before all was said and done.  Devery’s studies made him an expert in what plants were and were not safe to ingest, and Runar had a knack for trapping, picked up from his youth in the Northlands.  And all three of them were known to be more than happy to make camp early on a lake or riverbed and spend a lazy late afternoon fishing for their dinner.  None of them were particularly skilled at it, but it made the fish they did catch that much tastier.

We are almost there! Marlick yelled back at the group in the wagon, turning his head so they could better hear him, and making Jagger jump at the old mans raised voice unexpectedly in his ear. The people here are good, honest folks.  Mostly farmers and a few craftsmen.  But the market is larger than you would expect, being the only settlement near here, excepting the fort at Twin Mist.  Nearest town of any size is Middleback, and that’s at least a fortnight south.  Been there once, took the missus to a fete there when we were newly married.  His eyes began to gloss over, obviously lost in memory, oblivious to the fact that nobody appeared to be listening to him anymore.  Anyways, he said suddenly, as a large bump in the road shook him out of his reverie, being that the market is here and brings in folks from outlying farms, travelers and traders, and the occasional soldier from the fort, folk are open and friendly to newcomers, but stay on your best behavior still.  The town guard may be small, but they’re a proud bunch and will not hesitate to come down on any misbehavior.  As he said this, he made an obvious attempt to get a look in at Devery, who pointedly did not notice, as the others did with a smile.

Where can we find the healer at? Jagger asked of Marlick as they neared the gates, "And the tavern after that?

I’ll drop you off behind the market, that is where me and the other farmers hereabouts sell off our produce to the traders who run the stalls, along with any travelling merchants who are coming through with goods going to and from outside our valleys.  The market itself is set up along two ends of the town square.  The Hayspring Inn is across the town square from the market and that’s where you will find the food and drink you keep asking for along with rooms if you need them.  Dag is the innkeeper; he keeps a clean public space, and his cooks are the best in the area. The townhall is on the last side of the square. The healer is old Hargret, and she keeps a small storefront that she lives in too next to the town guard barracks behind the townhall.  That old crone isn’t the most pleasant creature to deal with, or even to look at, but she knows her stuff and will have you right as rain in no time.  Marlick stopped talking as they passed by a small shack next to the road, a lazy looking guard sat on a stool inside it, smoking his pipe and glaring at those on the road as if daring them to interrupt him in his pursuits of sloth.

The rest of the ride he was silent, and the others were too busy taking in their new surroundings to speak much.  The first thing that struck them, was how few people were out on the streets for this being a market town.  They could see the square ahead and more stalls looked empty than open for business.

Marlick, is it always so bustling here in Timberwich? Devery asked with a sarcastic grin. Used to larger cities from travelling with his father for business in his youth, he always had a hard time not mocking those who were impressed with smaller towns and villages and it had gotten the party in hot water more than once. However, will we get through these crowds? he said with a laugh.

Something is off, Runar replied before Marlick could respond, his quiet tone at odds with the timber of his voice.  Devery never passed up a chance to be