The Distant Kingdoms Volume Three: The Angels of War

PROLOGUE

WEST OF THE PORRAN - AZZIL TERRITORY BORDER

They numbered close on four thousand strong, each person riding on horse or in horse-drawn wagon. At this time of the late afternoon the entire battalion continued towards their goal of Xerous. All of the horses with this company were at the point of exhaustion. They had been ridden at a merciless pace for many days since leaving the fortress city of Terrimorter. Some of these animals had even succumbed to their miserable treatment, their cold corpses littering the trail behind the continuously moving army. These unfortunate creatures had been hastily replaced by horses conscripted from the surrounding communities during the long ride. Some of the former owners had put up an argument about their property being removed. The farmers, ranchers, villagers and other such people were provided a swift beating and sent on their way.

At night, the procession continued- though at a greatly reduced pace. To move on at their standard rate in darkness would only be courting disaster. Generally, the column came to a halt late in the night, making camp only to partake of a quick meal and some fleeting respite from the arduous trek to the east. Well before the sun appeared above the distant horizon, the commanders of the army would rudely rouse their subordinates and break camp to recommence their seemingly endless foray towards enemy lands.

During their journey the soldiers were also forced by circumstance to retrieve provisions from the surrounding countryside and any settlements contained within. Once again, the protesting farmers and ranch owners were left beaten- or dead. The military column had an important assignment to complete and the wailings of mere peasants could not be permitted to deter them from their task.

There was no distinct line of dissimilarity between the Azzil Territories and the nation of Porra. The land rose slightly at some point of the army’s long journey and its commanders knew for certain they had finally arrived at the western- most point of their objective.

One man on horse pulled his heavily panting mount, waiting as the procession continued past him at their heightened tempo. His features marred by a light sheen of perspiration, he gazed around at the sloping terrain with its tall trees and distant rock outcrops. Despite not being privy to an accurate map to mark his way, former Lord Laninval knew one thing for certain; he had finally arrived back to his homeland.

CHAPTER ONE

THE HAMAFORTH KINGDOMS

THE NATION OF HAMAFORTH

THE CITY OF VALDERHEIN

If there was one thing Corporal Rodney ‘Roddy’ Meredin knew for certain on this new world, it was that he quite enjoyed the privileges of being the King’s honoured guest. Life in the Royal palace for the Civil War unit comprising both Confederate and Union men was a life in the very lap of luxury. Their ragtag uniforms had been expertly repaired, their current rooms were large and luxurious, the beds huge and warm, food and drink plentiful and the women seemed to appreciate their ‘interesting’ presence. Last, but by no means least, Entell Thellon the Third himself had given them a generous allowance in order to keep them in the palace.

Personally, the corporal felt all of the bowing and other such bootlicking to members of the Royal family was a foolish waste of time. Although, thankfully no one in the palace felt that the Earthlings need to be involved in these displays of protocol. They were allowed to wander about the massive building at will, indulging in any manner they saw fit, so long as these acts did not contravene the law of the land or of common decency.

Two days ago, Private Harry Barren, all fifty nine years of him, had been discovered pursuing one of the younger female members of the palace household staff. He had been sternly warned away from such unseemly practices by a member of the staff who appeared to be some sort of senior matron. Much to his surprise, Meredin had later caught Harry sneaking from this very same woman’s bedroom at an unhealthy hour of the night.

We came to an understanding, Barren had informed the bewildered corporal.

This behaviour paled in comparison with the fact most of the female staff had taken it into their heads to follow Captain Carl Buchanan about the palace corridors, casting wistful looks in his direction. These expressions of interest did not appear to be reciprocal on behalf of the Sharpshooter officer. He smiled back at them and even indulged in the occasional conversation with the staff and some of the female military personnel, but there was never any suggestion he was acting in a less than ‘professional’ manner.

Personally, Meredin believed the captain was just annoyed that the staff and palace troopers were dressed in a far more flamboyant fashion than he was. He still insisted on wearing his fancy green uniform almost all of the time.

The only condition the King had placed on these recently acquired ‘Beyonders’ was that they were still were not permitted access to their firearms. These weapons had been confiscated on first entering the Royal palace and were presently locked away somewhere in the lower depths of the complex. Hopefully, this irritating condition would be put to rest this very morning.

Flanked on both sides by two of the tall, blonde people who referred to themselves as ‘Dearnians’, the Confederate NCO marched along a wide, heavily populated corridor towards the training area for the garrison personnel. Thankfully, Buchanan had persuaded Entell Thellon and his advisors to permit the squad to put on a demonstration to finally prove exactly what their weapons were capable of doing. Many of the local people appeared to be under the misapprehension that a single shot rifle was somehow capable of wiping out an entire division. If shown their firearm’s limited capacities, the Civil War soldiers were certain the King would allow them to regain possession of their weapons.

 Good morning, sir! some overly officious palace toady blurted.

Yeah, whatever! Meredin growled back, in a manner that made the courtier hastily vanish from sight.

The Confederate soldier and his unwanted escort continued along the passageway until finally reaching their destination. The courtyard was a full fifty metres in length and width with tall walls along all four sides. The grassless ground was littered with weaponry including a catapult that positively amazed Meredin. There was also a collection of training obstacles, firing targets and rows of simple wooden benches to accommodate any spectators to this area. These seats were presently packed with curious onlookers that included most members of the Royal Thellon family.

Also present on these bleachers were Buchanan and Privates Richard Maret and William Hill, the latter two who appeared to be grateful for the appearance of their NCO. After he had inspected the catapult, Meredin walked across to where his fellow ‘Beyonders’ stood, noting with some disapproval that they still did not have their guns. Personally, he did not approve of the term ‘Beyonder’. It made them sound like some sort of voodoo priests.

Mornin’, Captain, he muttered to Buchanan.

Good morning.

I see they still haven’t given us our guns back. What’s wrong with these people? They let us have the run of the palace, but won’t let us have what’s rightfully ours.

They’re just concerned, Corporal, Buchanan responded. To them our firearms are like some sort of magic. They don’t really have any idea about our abilities with the things. Look around you, Roddy and tell me how many guards do you see?

Meredin hastily scanned the enclosure. There do seem to be an awful lot of them.

And have you noticed that we’re always followed about by either the local troops or these ‘Dearnians’?

That much I already knew, Captain. Everywhere I go I’m surrounded by them. To be honest they give me a case of the creeps. They never smile or laugh or even speak to me unless I say something to them first.

At least they’re treating us well, Hill added.

Yeah! Maret agreed. They feed us and fixed up our uniforms. Are you still certain we have to wear ‘em, Roddy?

Yes! How many times do I have to tell you all that? We’re still in the Confederate army until someone in authority tells us different. Got it?

I thought you people were fighting authority? Buchanan smirked.

Only Lincoln’s authority- Or anyone else outa Washington.

If you didn’t like the people running the country then perhaps you all should have shipped off to a place where they didn’t have a duly elected government, Corporal.

What! Meredin blurted, eyes widening in anger. I didn’t vote for that sonof… On seeing that his impromptu political rant had become the centre of attention, he ceased his line of argument. We’ll speak about this later.

As you wish, Corporal, the Officer replied, giving a casual shrug.

Deciding to intervene before the group of Beyonders began openly brawling, his Majesty, Entell Thellon, accompanied by General Arrish Marn and two Dearnian guards wandered across to where his guests currently stood.

The one called ‘Meredin’ was glaring angrily at the taller officer, although to the King’s understanding of the matter, they were from opposing armies on their home world. Another of the grey men spied the approaching monarch and obviously mentioned this fact to his companions. They in turn all turned to meet Entell Thellon and his escort.

The best of the morning to you, gentlemen! Entell Thellon called.

Good morning, your Majesty, Buchanan responded.

Morning, your Kingness, Meredin muttered.

Hill and Maret likewise greeted the monarch with as much courtesy as they could muster. They both felt very much out of place amongst all of this pomp and ceremony. Granted, the King himself appeared to be an agreeable sort of fellow and saw to it they were well-looked after; sort of the same way an old lady might take care of her favourite cats.

Are you going to be setting up your demonstration soon? his Majesty inquired, his freshly shaven features alight with curiosity.

Certainly, your Majesty, Buchanan answered. But we do need our guns back- and the ammunition; if it isn’t too much of a bother.

Sire, the general spoke up, his voice barely audible to the nearby monarch. It might be an idea to reconsider this demonstration. Once they are fully armed these men could conceivably create all sorts of havoc throughout the palace.

Nonsense, General! the King laughed. If these men were inclined to do such a thing they could have done so on first entering the city. No, they will be fine. So please allow them to have their ‘gun’ weapons back.

The senior officer bowed. It shall be done, your Majesty. He left the King’s presence to step across to a group of soldiers whom he spoke to at great length. They in turn rushed from the courtyard at a respectable pace. They returned some short time later, their arms loaded the weapons and ammunition belts.

The Confederate soldiers took their time to check the recently returned guns. They had all witnessed far too many tragic mishaps as a result of a poorly- treated firearm. After a couple of minutes they had checked and reloaded the weapons.

I say we take this place! Maret blurted, displaying a cheeky grin.

That will be quite enough of that sort of talk, thank you, Private, Buchanan commented. The last thing I want to do is actually have to shoot my way out of here.

After one final check of their various firearms, they scanned the immediate area and located a likely place to set up a couple of targets. These targets in turn were partially broken or disused vases, glass containers of varying sizes and a couple of metal pails full of water. A handful of the palace soldiers placed a number of hay bales before the nearest wall then positioned the targets at the top of this makeshift shelf.

Stepping before this recently constructed display, Buchanan checked his revolver’s chamber then loaded the gun.

If I can have everyone’s attention please! he called, at the top of his voice.

His insistence appeared to work as everyone within the courtyard instantly fell silent, their eyes focused on the green uniformed man who held one of the unfamiliar metal objects in his hand. They had hoped to witness a noteworthy event this fine, though chilly morning. They were not going to be disappointed.

This, Buchanan continued, holding aloft his sidearm, is a Smith and Wesson .38 revolver, standard issue of the United States government! It fires six regulation rounds in quick succession!

Some people just love the sound of their own voice, Meredin grumbled.

Buchanan ignored this unwarranted character assassination. The weapon also has a removable ammunition chamber, an oak handgrip and an elongated barrel!  The captain paused briefly then continued his dialogue: "Both myself and my associates…’

We’ve become ‘associates’ now! Meredin chortled. I never realised we were up for a promotion!

…will show how our firearms operate and their full capabilities as weapons of war! I will first demonstrate my revolver and later we will give a display of our rifles!

He really does seem to enjoy being the centre of attention, Hill snickered, closely watching the Union officer begin his display.

Finally, having tired of the constant stream of interruptions from the Confederate troops, Buchanan commenced with a demonstration of his pistol’s accuracy. He wandered over to the array of targets and selected a candidate which in this instance happened to be one of the containers of water. The officer then walked away from the row of items on the hay bales until about twenty metres apart.

There will be a loud noise! Buchanan called, extending his right arm in a gesture which aimed the revolver at his intended objective.

The entire crowd of local dignitaries appear to lean forward.  A moment’s silence overcame the crowd before the captain finally squeezed the trigger. The effect of the first shot had a far greater outcome than Buchanan had initially hoped for this morning. The bucket gave a violent lurch, spouting cold water as the gunshot caused the entire audience to erupt into a chorus of astonished noise over this incident. Many of those persons seated on the benches instantly rose to their feet, some drawing their swords in this process. The Dearnian guards near his Majesty instantly flocked about his person while he presently stood on both feet, eyes wide in astonishment. He continued staring in mute shock as the ruptured bucket continued to haemorrhage its liquid contents from two holes on either side.

It’s all right! Buchanan called. Everything’s just fine!

Dear Christ almighty! Meredin protested. All that fuss over one little gunshot!

Once he had dismissed the Dearnian guards, the King sat down beside his horrified wife. His eyes briefly, urgently made contact with General Arrish Marn who was positioned only a couple of places away. Later, they would have to discuss this revelation in private.

Please continue, Captain, Entell Thellon instructed.

Are you sure, your Majesty? he inquired, gazing across the crowd of highly agitated people. I don’t know if anyone’s here can take another demonstration.

They will be fine, the King insisted. Now that everyone knows what to expect.

Once he had put the leaking bucket out of its misery with a few more expertly aimed shots, Buchanan focused his attention on the other targets. He began blasting merrily away at these immobile items, especially the large vases which exploded into tiny, colourful shards. Deciding to allow his companions to demonstrate their skills, he hailed them across to where he stood.

Once they were in position, the grey uniformed men spied a couple of the discarded vases as yet untouched by the officer’s enthusiastic display. They positioned themselves in a short line, their rifles pointing towards the targets.

Take aim! Buchanan called, in his most authoritarian tone.

We already know how to do this, Buchanan, Meredin insisted.

As you wish.

Around this display all observers were hushed, eyes all fixed on the three grey uniformed men. Even the King found his attention riveted on the display. If this next act was anywhere near as devastating as the captain’s display then motions would have to be made to induce these ‘Beyonders’ into revealing their secrets of these fabulous, though noisy weapons.

Let’s do this, Meredin ordered.

The multiple detonations caused Buchanan’s efforts with his pistol to be quickly forgotten. As before, most of the onlookers leapt in collusion with three simultaneous gunshots. Only on this occasion, the audience’s faces were covered in grins as they knew for certain no danger lay in the ferocious sounds reverberating about the courtyard.

The line of vases and bottles- most of which were so unsightly they deserved their fate, promptly exploded, showering fragments of glass and ceramic material metres in all directions. When the three soldiers lowered their weapons and turned to face the crowd, the audience erupted into a spontaneous burst of appreciative applause.

Naturally enough, the troopers gave a bow to their recently acquired fans. Before encountering this luxurious lifestyle within the palace, the standard response to discharging their firearms was to have someone shoot right back at them; this made for a nice change.

Most people stayed in the courtyard, some continually applauding these strangely spoken newcomers. Others slowly made their way back into the palace to commence their appointed duties within the superstructure. A handful of dignitaries, including the King and Arrish Marn fled the enclosed area to meet at a prearranged destination. They had a great many important events to discuss.

***

The frequent gunshots that breached the early morning failed to concern two people positioned in the main dining hall at one of the long tables scattered about this enclosure. This chamber situated, naturally enough, near the kitchens operated on a constant basis as the thousands of palace staff and military personnel often worked throughout the day and night. These people needed to be fed whenever they had a moment or two to spare. Therefore, it was merely a case of showing up at the hall, placing an order for a meal and waiting for it to be served.

That must be Roddy and the others showin’ off, Private Bernard Talbot surmised, hearing the distant discharges. He glanced down to the empty place before him where his recently ordered breakfast should have been. Unfortunately, the early mornings in the dining hall was always one of the busier times for the hurried kitchen staff. Everyone- even honoured guests in the palace just had to wait their turn.

I sure am hungry, the youth bemoaned.

They won’t be too long, Bernie, the elderly man seated beside him insisted.

Close on three hundred other people, men and women were occupying the massive chamber. They too were seated at the tables, often in a position which allowed them an easy view of the ‘Beyonders’. This unwelcome and unsolicited interaction with the hungry Confederate soldiers was becoming quite a distraction for everyone at the numerous tables.

I wish they wouldn’t keep staring at me, Talbot complained.

Stare back at ‘em, Harry Barren advised.

I can’t! Bernard wailed. There’s just too many of them!

Then ignore ‘em.

I want to go home! And I want to see my family!

I thought you said your mother was a common whore and your father a drunk?

They were! But at least they didn’t keep on staring at me all the damn time like I was some sort of circus freak!

Finally, two women appeared at the soldiers’ places, their arms loaded with plates of steaming, fragrant food. These were placed before the ravenous men who graciously thanked the servants. They began destroying the contents of the heated plates with all of the enthusiasm of a thirst-crazed man stumbling across an oasis. One of the serving girls whom appeared to be about Talbot’s age remained nearby, her eyes observing the newcomers’ behaviour.

Is there anything else I can get you gentlemen? she finally inquired, smiling brightly at them.

No thanks, miss, Talbot answered.

Barren turned to look at the serving girl. What my friend here meant to say was; if you could come back to his nice, neat room that your King let him use there’s something he really needs to show you!

The girl continued smiling across at the younger of the two soldiers. If you say so, sir, she finally responded, performing a short courtesy, blushing and running away.

What was that all about, Harry? Talbot questioned his leering associate.

It’s a common practice, Bernie my boy that when a pretty young thing asks if there’s anything you need, you damn well think of something better than a portion of overcooked vegetables and tough meat.

Such as?

Barren turned to stare at him. Good God boy! Remember what happened when we stayed in that Charlestown brothel?

Sure do, Harry, the youth answered. You all made me stay outside to mind the damn horses! But, she ain’t no parlour girl. She served us food!

Private Barren sadly shook his head. It don’t make any difference. Here’s a fact you really need to know; you can actually get intimate with a girl and not pay her later for the privilege- so long as she’s willing. He paused long enough to sigh. You know there was a time when sweet lookin’ girls used to follow me around. They still follow me, but now they’re a lot older. Still, it beats having to deal with these matters for yourself.

Goddamn, Harry! I’m trying to eat here! Talbot bemoaned. A serious expression appeared on his youthful face. And what if she ain’t willing?

Then you leave her the hell alone- that’s what.

Focusing his undivided attention down to his plate, Talbot began consuming his morning meal as though nothing else in his life was more important. This situation was certainly a great improvement on his former life in the middle of the war.

This peace would be good- while it lasted.

CHAPTER TWO

The two servants, both dignified looking middle-aged men moved along the wide, well-lit corridor which at this time was otherwise deserted. They had not been present at the firearms’ display as their duties this day required them to be elsewhere. Both servants were discussing the matter at great length, particularly the intermittent thunderous reports emitting from the courtyard hosting the exhibition. Much to their mutual amazement, Entell Thellon the Third appeared in the wide passageway ahead of them, his features set in a deep concentration. He walked directly towards the two gawking men, his eyes never leaving the carpeted floor. A group of men and women followed in his tracks, not a single word emitted from this escort.

Good morning, your Majesty! both men chanted in unison.

The King hastily stepped past them, neither acknowledging their overstated hail, or so much as their presence. In less time than it takes to draw two full breaths, the monarch and his followers had vanished around the nearest corner and were gone from sight.

They were astonished.

I wonder what is wrong with his Majesty? one man muttered.

The other servant shrugged. I do not know. Usually the King is such a courteous soul. He must be greatly troubled by something.

You could be right. Perhaps we should take the time to mention this to General Arrish Marn.

The senior officer of the entire armed forces of the Kingdoms rushed past them, his face likewise set in a serious mask. A handful of other officers trailed in his wake. They too vanished in the same direction as the King.

Then again, perhaps not.

The servants faced one another then recommenced their journey along the passageway. Whatever was bothering the King must have been of a serious nature as he had forsaken his seemingly mandatory Dearnian guards. This fact pleased the servants intently- they did not particularly like the Dearnian presence in the palace: Let them all go back to Dearnia.

***

The room was of no great note, being barely five metres in diameter and width with a round, nondescript wooden table and chairs set in its midst. This chamber was merely one of the numerous conference rooms to be found within the building for the palace staff or military personnel to gather and discuss whatever matter concerned them at the time. This particular room was currently holding a meeting of the utmost importance between his Royal Majesty and Arrish Marn.

The general sat directly opposite the closed and tightly guarded door. To the other side of the table, the reigning monarch paced nervously about the confided space, his hands clutching one another behind his back. This was a behavioural pattern the senior officer had only witnessed from his King on rare occasions.

Did you see that, General? Entell Thellon blurted, briefly putting aside his limited wanderings.

Certainly, your Majesty, the elderly officer acknowledged. I was there, after all.

With weapons such as those, Jom Azzer and all of his military forces would never dream of interfering with us! Those ‘gun’ weapons of theirs annihilated all of those targets in a mere moment. And Captain Carl Buchanan informs me they can hit a moving object at up to a hundred paces.

The general listened intently while his King talked at some length, his wrinkled features never betraying his thoughts with any display of emotion. Leaning back in his seat, he watched the monarch who continued pacing about the room.

We must speak to these people about acquiring the secrets of their weapons, so we may better defend ourselves against our enemies. Our armourers and blacksmiths should, without any great difficulty be able to reproduce copies of these guns. With Carl Buchanan’s assistance, we can also be capable of creating the projectiles they place into these new weapons. Entell Thellon ceased speaking to gather in his thoughts. I wonder if we should assign a gun to every member of the military? Obviously, it will take a great deal of time before everyone is armed with these weapons. He looked across to the seated officer. How many men and women are in my combined armies, General?

I must be quite honest, Sire, he replied. I do not have an accurate figure as troop numbers constantly alter. I would hazard a guess of about three hundred thousand all up; although these troops are scattered across a considerable distance.

Well, those soldiers currently in the Valderhien garrisons would be the first issued with these guns. Also, these Beyonder soldiers would have to agree to provide our instructors the correct methods of discharging and maintaining these weapons. Those trainers can in turn instruct our duty sergeants who will train the rank-and-file troops. The entire process may take up to a full season to complete, but any worthwhile endeavour takes time.

Certainly, your Majesty, Arrish Marn responded. And naturally once your troops have been empowered with these magical weapons, we will lead them in a full-scale invasion of the Azzil Territories?

The King ceased his pacing. Excuse me?

Such military actions will certainly be unavoidable, your Majesty. Once Ruler Jom Azzer discovers your armies greatly outclass his in regards to superior weaponry, he will have no choice but to send his forces to invade us before we obliterate him. Personally, I believe he will fail if our troops possess these guns. According to my latest reports, Jom Azzer has an army that is probably a third larger in size. But, our new weapons should even out the opposition before they know what has taken place.

I did not say anything about launching any military action against- well, virtually anyone.

Arrish Marn continued: As I have stated on many occasions, nothing would give me greater satisfaction than to lead your forces into the Territories and smash this threat to our peace once and for all. To be even more honest, I am fast approaching the ebb of my military career as the commander of your armed forces and I would really like to leave something significant to mark my passing into a retired civilian life; something such as placing the entire Azzil Territories under your gracious leadership. He sighed at this thought. But, I have witnessed far too much bloodshed to wish to see any more. An invasion of such magnitude, successful or otherwise would create a catastrophic legacy of death and injury throughout much of the Kingdoms and nearly all of the Azzil Territories. The officer allowed his Majesty a precious moment to mentally digest this information. What I truly fear about these new weapons is that they may be a demon we cannot adequately control to any great degree. What would happen if the Anhil were to somehow acquire a large number of these guns? Also, a pickpocket with a knife can be easily dealt with by our current mode of law enforcement. A pickpocket with one of these guns at his disposal is an entirely different matter. I say we let these ‘Beyonders’ keep their weapons.

And what if Jom Azzer commences military intervention against us?

Arrish Marn’s features hardened. Then that would certainly change our current scenario, Sire. But then the resulting carnage would be entirely on his wretched hands- and history will judge his actions in this instance. We can only pray such events never take place.

Well said, General! the King commended. But, I must leave you now. Other duties are waiting for my presence; all so very droll.

Oh?

The Ambassador of Phornimiren wishes to have words with me again about the possibility of a union between Lord Perorn’s son and my daughter.

The only problem I see with such an arrangement, your Majesty, the general explained, rising to his feet. Is that Annus Perorn is a complete imbecile with the personality of a rock. If you were to try and have your daughter betrothed to that fool, there is no doubt in my mind her Highness would flee the Kingdoms to join Jom Azzer in his Imperial court- and then she would be the one to arrive with an invading army!

I thought I had put an end to this business with the ambassador. The King sighed. I am afraid I will never hear the end of this matter.

Such is the fate of all parents, Arrish Marn stated, grinning across at the King.

You have a family; do your children give you one problem after another?

I am the senior-most officer in your Royal Armed Forces, Sire, the general explained. Thousands of battle-hardened soldiers shudder at the mere mention of my name and I can assure you, my children have never once taken the slightest bit of notice of a word I have ever said to them. If any of the troops behaved in such a manner I would not hesitate to have them executed for rank insolence bordering on mutiny.

And girls are the worst of the lot! his Majesty bemoaned.

I know that for a fact, Sire.

I wish I could marry the Princess off to some unfortunate, unsuspecting man, but so far she has treated every would-be suitor as though they were in possession of some shocking disease!

Ah, your Majesty did you not have another meeting to attend?

I almost forgot! Before I leave- have you any notions on how to deal with the Phornimiren Ambassador? Apparently blatant insults fail to work on the man.

The senior officer considered this difficulty. Put the matter off for as long as possible, your Majesty. Tell that fool…I mean the Ambassador that you will consider his proposal in regards to your daughter- And then just never get back to him about it.

The Ambassador is notoriously impatient and I might add, persistent. If I delay him for too long I could end up with Lord Perorn himself entrenched outside the palace walls waiting for an answer.

The officer shrugged. Do not let him in.

General Arrish Marn! the King exclaimed, a wry smirk on his features.

My sincere apologies. It wold certainly be a serious breach of protocol to leave Lord Perorn waiting out in the weather He paused. May I suggest we allow the Princess herself to give us the solution to this dilemma?

Please continue.

Inform the Ambassador from that overgrown-woodlands that the most gracious Princess Paura flies into a rage on the mere mention of her being married to anyone you suggest. And under such trying circumstances you could not possibly inflict such misery upon some poor, unsuspecting husband-to-be. Maybe in seasons to come her Highness will be of a more suitable disposition.

Will this answer not make me look as though I am incapable of controlling even my own offspring? Entell Thellon inquired.

The Ambassador would never be so foolish and vulgar to suggest such a thing to you, the officer stated. But, just in case he does make the suggestion, simply shrug off his concerns and start bemoaning about the duplicity of the female of the species. This should bewilder him to the point where he just wishes to leave your presence as quickly as possible.

This could work, the monarch remarked. I just hope her Highness never discovers our ruse.

If the Princess does find out tell her it was all for her own good; unless she really does desire being married to that half-wit Annus Perorn.

A broad smile lit up the King’s face. She will definitely go along with the plan. And now I really must leave.

General Arrish Marn gave a curt bow then watched as his Majesty left the room. The plan and simple truth was, he had quite enjoyed making plans against the ambassador. It had been an interesting amusement and one that did not involve life and death decisions.

In some short time Arrish Marn would, as with so many people in the Hamaforth Kingdoms, be forced by circumstances beyond their control into a deadly series of events where minor occurrences such as avoiding a wedding would scarcely be worth noting. Stepping out of the room, the general, as with his monarch had many important jobs to attend to.

***

Clutching a foreign object tightly in both small hands, his Highness, Prince Zarr Thellon, second in line to the throne of the Hamaforth Kingdoms, wandered about the labyrinth of corridors within the Royal palace. His footsteps were traced by a particularly fierce-looking woman, tall, blonde hair and deep blue eyes; the standard physical make up of a member of the Dearnian guard. Behind them were a group of no less than four regular palace soldiers. After the assassination squads had so easily entered the Royal palace some time ago, no measure of security was considered quite enough for members of the Thellon family. Day and night, all members of the monarchy were guarded by a combination of palace garrison troops and the Dearnian contingent. This commitment to duty had become such a nuisance that Prince Entell and the Princess Paura had bitterly complained about their subsequent lack of privacy. They were beginning to feel their rights had been violated by the constant attention of their escorts. Their furious complaints fell on deaf ears as their father calmly dismissed his offspring’s complaints and reminded both that in fact their lives belonged to the good peoples of the Kingdoms.

Prince Zarr never complained about these ever-present companions, but at his young age such events failed to curb his social life about the palace. Stepping across to an open window, Zarr Thellon held his most prized of all possessions up towards the morning sun, allowing the mysterious, though quite fascinating device to be flooded by the warm rays of the morning’s sunshine. The solar powered calculator given to him by Lord Colin Bourke had become a treasured toy, exalted high above all of his other toys. He even went to bed and slept with the mathematical device on his pillow at night. The easily movable digital figures on the calculator’s screen never ceased to fascinate him despite the fact he had absolutely no inkling as to the mathematical capabilities of the object.

Prince Zarr! a stern female voice called to the small child. Come away from there this instant!

The boy turned to face the Dearnian woman.

I need the sun! he laughed, flashing a huge, somehow innocent smile.

I am certain we can find a much better place for you to see the sun, your Highness.

He smiled across at her, his entire form drenched in a shaft of bright morning sunlight. And at that moment, the Dearnian woman knew for certain she would, if necessary lay down her life to protect this heir to the Hamaforth crown. She would commit this act without hesitation or an inkling of regret.

Look! he announced, holding aloft his prize. It works now!

I am so glad to hear it, your Highness, she responded. Now please move away from the open window.

A tall of girl with light brown eyes, dark blonde hair and an unimpressed expression on her features appeared at one end of this particular passageway. Her path was likewise trailed by a well-mannered escort comprising of a Dearnian man and a collection of regular troops.

Do as you are told, Zarr Thellon! the princess snapped. She picked the child up and continued her journey along this corridor. The girl then turned around to view their bodyguards merge into one large group.

Ridiculous! Princess Paura Thellon exclaimed, struggling to maintain a balanced hold on her sibling. Something must be done about this at once! Someone will think we are leading an invasion force through the palace! I cannot understand what possessed our father to assign so many guards to attend to us! I honestly think he must be losing his sanity under the stress of running the Kingdoms!

Zarr Thellon found this outburst highly amusing and laughed.

I do not think you should repeat what I just said to either our father or mother, she insisted. They would only be- concerned. All right, Zarr Thellon?

He nodded, holding up his toy. Look! It works.

Yes, very good, your Highness, she replied.

The parade continued throughout the massive complex which housed not only the Royal family, but a sizable military presence as well as an extensive support staff. Eventually, this procession worked its way into the most secured wing of the palace where the Thellon family were permanently housed in individual rooms; with of course the exception of the King and Queen. Stepping past an armed soldier, the princess pounded on a sturdy wooden door. She impatiently waited for a short while until the door opened, revealing a stern-faced youth only a couple of seasons younger than his sister.

What is the problem, Paura Thellon? he inquired.

What do you think? she demanded, indicating the combined custodians gathered in the narrow passageway behind them. Now that the eldest prince’s personal guard had joined the group, the area was becoming quite crowded.

I know! he complained, bitterly. I never have a moment’s peace. Everywhere I go a battalion of soldiers follow me around!

We must talk to father about this!

I have already tried, the elder sibling and immediate heir to the throne lamented. He refuses to listen to me. I have already shown that I am fully capable of looking after myself, but he insists on having half the garrison dog my every move.

If we speak to him in a combined capacity, we may be able to make him see reason, the princess stated. At least if he can see for himself the full extent of this foolishness, he may relent and have just one guard assigned to each of us.

You may be right, the prince admitted. I will just put on my shoes and join you.

He vanished once behind the partially open door only to reappear his feet now clad in more respectable footwear.

Let us see father, he invoked, joining his siblings.

The combined members of the Royal Thellon siblings moved away from the prince’s bedroom, followed at a modest distance by their combined security details which currently included no less than four members of the Dearnian guard and about fifteen enlisted personnel.

***

On opening the door to his official quarters, his Majesty Entell Thellon was somewhat astonished to be confronted by all three of his offspring along with a horde of their combined escorts. He remained silent in the open doorway, a glimmer of a smile on his face. Both the King, his children and their guards and the monarch’s bodyguard all remained quite silent, looking to one another as if seeking a command to commence their next act.

To one side of the bedroom, a plain-looking woman some season’s younger than the reigning monarch sat before a dresser drawer, brushing her long auburn hair. She continued this activity for a short while before turning to find out what was the problem with her children gathered near the doorway. She could easily see any number of Dearnian guards and soldiers standing in the adjoining passageway.

Children, do come inside, the Queen directed. And please leave the battalion out in the corridor.

Conceding to their mother’s request, the three Royal progeny entered the bedroom, minus the vast conglomerate of Dearnians and troops. Prince Zarr wandered across to his mother and naturally found himself picked up in her waiting arms.

We can no longer put up with this! Paura Thellon announced.

The official escort may be an inconvenience, Paura Thellon, but those guards are a necessity: And they are staying, the King replied.

You saw what occurred outside! Paura Thellon protested, having apparently placed herself as spokesperson for the small, beleaguered group. The situation is quite ridiculous! We have no privacy and everyone in the palace stares at us as though we are members of a circus sideshow!

I would much prefer you being stared at than knifed in the back, your Highness, Entell Thellon retorted.

But…

The decision stands, Princess Paura.

At this point of the conversation Prince Entell decided to take an active part in the conversation.

I trust someone realises that the very presence of so many armed people in our proximity is actually endangering our lives? he inquired, cautiously.

And exactly why is that so, Prince Entell? his father demanded.

With so many people around us it would be an easy enough task for some assassin to slip into their ranks then commit their foul deed before anyone had a chance to prevent them. If, on the other hand, we were limited to say the standard one or possibly two guards such an incident would never take place.

Most of your guards should be familiar to you by now, the King countered.

There are some soldiers following me about whom I have never seen before this day, Paura Thellon added.

All right, the reigning monarch conceded. Perhaps I have overstepped the bounds of security- and good parenting in regards to the size of your escort. The number will immediately be reduced to two Dearnian guards for each of your persons. But I warn you all; none of you are ever to be out of their presence or I will want to know the reason why. Now, is it possible to have a little privacy? I have a particularly long assembly with some military commanders later in the day.

Certainly, your Majesty, the prince retorted, leading the group of Thellon children back into the hallway.

Was that altogether wise? the Queen inquired.

No harm can come from it, her spouse responded. The children needed to be calmed and I can really see no great difficulties in the future. I seriously doubt if there will be any further attempts on anyone’s life now that security measures have been tightened throughout the palace and the entire city.

You seem to forget, his wife reminded him. Those last two attempts on our children’s lives were prevented by Colin Bourke. And he is no longer with us in the palace.

The King turned to face her, a greatly concerned look on his face.

An idea occurred to Entell Thellon the Third.

I am certain everything will be just fine, your Highness, he informed her, his mind still deep in thought. Now, if you will excuse me, I must urgently speak to some people before my appointment with the garrison officers.

Where are you going in such a hurry?

To make certain I am correct about all of this.

The Queen watched as her husband fled their quarters as though someone’s life depended on his presence. She carefully observed his rapid departure then went back to brushing her hair. Sometimes his Majesty acted in the most peculiar manner.

CHAPTER THREE

THE NATION OF DEARNIA

THE DEANIC RIVER

The wagon was a gaudy coloured vehicle pulled at a sluggish pace by two sturdy brown horses. These beasts of burden were honestly quite pleased to be on the open road. They had been cooped up inside some formidable object for many days on end. True, their new owners cared well for the animals, feeding and watering and even grooming them, but this pampering failed to quell the onslaught of trepidation and claustrophobia which had set in their minds since being locked away. Still, both animals were back in the sunshine and these difficulties were quickly forgotten as they trotted along yet another road.

Two occupants of the horse-drawn vehicle sat on a front bench seat, each puffing merrily on stout cigars that one member of this team had hidden away in the vague hope of indulging himself at some later date.

Such a time had come.

Sean Corrigin, his once exceedingly short hair now reaching new lengths, removed the smoke from his mouth and faced the dark-haired, green-eyed woman seated beside him.

I still think we should have brought that contraption along with us instead of this thing.

The woman seated beside him smiled. But then Dale would insist we didn’t smoke inside the SCATT. And besides, it’s good to get out in the fresh air once and a while.

I really don’t know what he’s got against us having an innocent puff on a cigar? the short Irishman bemoaned before placing said smoke back in between his lips.

It might have something to do with one of us setting off the emergency fire- suppression system in their room, Connie York countered. Like you did the other day.

It’s not my fault, Connie! he protested. A just what sort of fire extinguishers are those? They blew this weird gas into my room any nearly choked me to death!

It’s Freon gas, Sean, the scientist answered. You couldn’t very well have water pouring out of a sprinkler system like we were in some underground car park in a shopping complex. All that water would blow out the electrical systems in the ship. And I thought you’d prefer to be in the SCATT rather than out here?

In case you hadn’t noticed, every time we come out into the nice, fresh air, some lunatic tries to kill us. Remember that village we went into about two months ago?

The look of remorse on the woman’s features instantly made Sean wish he had kept his great, big mouth shut. Sometimes it could be quite an amusing attachment to his personality. Other times the damn thing just got him into a whole lot of trouble.

I really had to do what I did back there, he commented, as a form of explanation into his murderous activities. This planet often reminds me of my home back in Belfast: More often or not it’s a case of either me or them.

It must have been a difficult life, Connie murmured.

Sean slowly removed the cigar from his mouth then turned his head to gaze at her. I killed my very first man when I was twelve years old. It was a nasty, cold, rainy day about a week after my birthday. This fool, who I’d never met before barged into my house with the shotgun I still carry to this day to kill me- because of an uncle I barely knew who was apparently the wrong person to be related too. Thankfully, my ma’ got in his way. He hit her with the gun before I managed to get it off of him- And then I marched the bastard out into our backyard and shot him where he stood. You should see the mess a sawn-off shotgun makes of a fellow at close range... Twelve years old. He smiled, just a touch. At least I’m still alive, which is more than can be said for many of my friends and family. Death is a relevant sort of thing. You really only feel it if it’s involving someone you know. Then after a while you just don’t pay any attention to it at all- unless it’s you. Naturally, that sort of thing would be difficult to ignore. He paused, puffing once on his smoke. I lost two cousins in a bomb explosion in a bar. A brother, the second youngest was shot while walking the dog. Hell, those bastards even shot the dog! I got them back though. Found out they were members of some local gang who he owned money- and not even that much. He paused yet again, his thoughts troubled by this unexpected bout of reminiscing. I waited until they had a meeting at their clubhouse- then I blew the place into fucking orbit. He turned his head to look once more at his companion. I really liked that dog.

Much to his surprise, Connie did not return the gaze. Nor did she speak to him for a short time. She continued staring straight ahead up the narrow, tree-lined road, her features changing to a dull-red blush. After a couple of minutes had passed, the stunned scientist finally built up the courage to turn and face him. Sean, just how many people have you killed?

More than I can remember and far too many to allow me to get into Heaven.

They continued along the otherwise deserted road, both members of this expedition deep in thought over various aspects of their recent conversation. Both were vastly different people from a different time and place, but here and now they had to strive to work together for their own survival.

***

An old man in dull clothing appeared around a bend in the narrow road, his weathered hands clutching the reins of an equally aged horse which hauled his two-wheeled cart.  The rickety vehicle itself was half-full of strange vegetables, the colour of ripe grapes and the size of a small type of melon. The elderly man suspiciously eyed the two strangers in their fancy, painted wagon, but refrained from diverting his simple mode of transport from the roadside to allow them an easier passage towards the nearby town.

A good morning to you! Sean virtually bellowed to the old farmer.

The old man nodded towards the two other travellers on this road, his hands gently loosening the reins in order to make his transport move a pace faster past the larger vehicle. Sean silently watched as the retreating cart gradually passed from sight around yet another bend in the road.

Such a nice old gent, he commented. A bit too chatty for my liking though.

I thought you were going to give him a coronary, Sean, Connie rebuked her passenger. Next time please try to be a bit more subdued about greeting people.

There’s just no pleasing some people, Sean grumbled.

They passed yet another indecipherable signpost positioned beside the road. The pointed end of this marker aimed along the thoroughfare in the direction they were currently travelling. As with all of the other signs they had encountered, the writing on this one was beyond their capabilities to interpret.  It both confounded and confused them all that even though they could easily understand the local dialects, the written word in this strange world was impossible to understand.

One day we’re going to have to learn how to read those things, the scientist commented, briefly slowing the wagon. For all we know it could read: ‘Cannibals live in this direction’. Maybe I can rig up some sort of translation programme in the SCATT.

What good would it do us if we’re not in the thing all of the time?

At least it could give us some sort of clue to what they’re saying, Sean.

Whatever, he muttered.

Eventually, the horse-drawn wagon came across a small village nestled right beside the constantly flowing Deanic River. Most of the people dwelling in this hamlet rarely saw strangers to these parts, so it was at no great surprise that many of them ceased whatever work they were doing to stop and stare at the bright vehicle and its two unfamiliar passengers. The smell of cooking fish was keenly captured by the warm, clear air, alerting both of the new arrivals that neither of them had really bothered to participate in breakfast before their journey.

By mutual agreement, the three people living in the Self Contained All Terrain Transport had decided to take the wagon into the nearest village or any other such settlement to extract information as to their current whereabouts or possibly even get hold of an accurate map. While negotiating the deep, wide river, they had made the embarrassing mistake of just steering the massive vehicle straight up to the first riverside village they had located during their travels. This outcrop of civilisation, all four hundred and sixty-three people of them had emptied from the village in what Dale had estimated to be about forty-nine seconds. Since this time they had purposely avoided the human population of the region near the impressive river.

Studying the numerous villagers as they studied him with the utmost suspicion, Sean silently wondered just how some people could spend the better part of their lives living in such ‘traditional’ conditions. The houses and stores were rudimentary with only one or two windows in each building. Mud- splattered wooden walkways led to each of these simple structures as was the way with most outlying settlements. A collection of rickety jetties dotted the river’s shoreline near this village, although most of these structures were currently devoid of any vessels of any description. A handful of grubby, poorly- dressed children appeared to be having great fun fishing from these temporarily disused jetties. At times these urchins even caught an occasional fish with little more than a crude hook on an old wax line.

Charming place, Sean commented. I wonder what they do for amusement around here?

Now, Sean, be nice, Connie gently rebuked him. After all, we’re guests here.

Should we look around?

She shrugged. Why not. We can’t get any information if we just sit here staring at the local people.

Are you certain I can’t talk you into taking along a little something, he mentioned, flashing his companion a huge grin. You know, for protection?

No, Sean! she answered, climbing from the wagon. I don’t like guns. I don’t believe in them.

What about something on a simpler note? he inquired, hauling out a small flick-blade knife.

Sometimes I worry about you, Sean, Connie grumbled, shaking her head in disbelief

Suit yourself, he replied.

If we start shooting or throwing switchblades at the local population, I imagine they won’t be too thrilled to help us. So please be careful. No shootings, stabbings or blowing things or people up. We just need information.

I’ll tell you this- free of charge, Connie, he insisted, likewise alighting from the wagon. And I am quite serious about this; so far while we’ve been on this enchanting planet I’ve never troubled anyone who didn’t trouble me first. I can be the very soul of discretion if the need arises- so long as I’m left to my own devices. He gazed about the modest village. So, where do we start?