Imprisoned & Tortured: Paladins of Ama - Ragnor Saga, #2

Prologue

"Inspection flight 97, check position 12, Planet Makar.

No special occurrences. Fusion energy level negative.

Steady at cultural stage four.

Pace of development normal."

The bar-shaped, automatic spaceship of the `gray legions´, which approached this almost starless section every fifty standard years, finished its three-hour routine check with this entry in the logbook of the airborne computer.

It had scanned the entire surface of Makar for nuclear energy sources and compared the automatic analysis of the surface with the ones of their last inspections. This status report exactly met the expectations of the owners of this automatic spaceship.

The obstinate followers of Ama had been pushed back into a preindustrial era. According to the opinion of the gray legions, they deserved this punishment, because they had refused to serve the powerful Ximon.

Their memory of the era of the big star realm had been erased. More than one thousand years ago, the nuclear fire of energy pieces had destroyed the former spaceport and its surrounding area on the South Pole of Makar.

Back then, any living being had been extinguished in this region, and all traces of the former high technology had been destroyed. Ever since then, this area had been a lifeless, uninhabitable wasteland.

Now that the inspection was finished, the spaceship left the orbit of Makar, and at maximum speed, it vanished into space.

All of that happened completely unnoticed by the inhabitants of Makar. Probably the few of them, who saw the briefly flashing, bright little dots of light of the impulse engines, would have taken it for one of the rare falling stars in the almost starless sky of Makar at the most.

The humans, the Orks and Brakks, who lived on Makar, obviously had no knowledge of the bygone glory of the star realms, their sophisticated culture and high technology. Maybe it was a good thing, after all, because Ximon’s henchmen dominated in Andromeda’s deep spaces. Probably a hard, simple life on Makar was much better than an alleged advanced existence, which was completely dominated by the merciless worshipers of this demon.

Setting

Chapter 1

Ragnor, are the gray donkeys finally ready to leave?

Menno’s voice echoed impatiently all over the forecourt of the spacious log cabin, where   the young man had spent his childhood. It was sitting in the narrow coulee of Calfor’s gorge at the rearmost edge of the Kingdom Caer. Strangers visited this place only on very rare occasions.

Yes, I am almost ready. All of the panniers are firmly fixed, Ragnor shouted in the direction of the house, as he left the barn.

For a moment, he remained standing in the foreyard and he looked wistfully at the big hut. With its shutters all nailed down, it looked sad somehow, as if it felt that it would be left behind all alone.

They had already packed all of the household goods, the clothes and the pieces of equipment, which they would take along to Kaarborg, in big bundles, matching the panniers of the animals. Now they were sitting neatly arranged in the spacious forecourt.

 At this moment, Tana, Lars and Menno left the house. All of them were fully dressed for their journey and ready to leave. The young man saw that tears were shimmering in Tana’s eyes, and he could imagine that it was hard for the old people to leave the silent valley at the raw border mountain range between the great Northern forest and the Kingdom Caer. This place had been their refuge and home for many, peaceful years. However, Rurig’s appointment as Count of Kaarborg, after the sudden, violent death of his brother, had changed everything. It went without saying that all of them would move to Kaarborg, of course. They wanted to support their friend in his new office, and most of all, it was important to them that Ragnor’s further education and training would be ensured this way, which was not only near and dear to Rurig.

Along with the two old people, Ragnor went over to the barn, where Maramba had bundled up and put out ready their winter stock, tools and weapons as well. The man was Ragnor’s tall and black comrade whose homeland was the hot jungles of Gromor.

While Lars, Tana and Menno fetched the pack animals from the barn, Ragnor dashed to his friend in order to help him carrying the last heavy bundles out of the building. Maramba smiled at his young friend and he asked in a friendly voice, Well, Ragnor, are you already anxious to see your new home?

Oh yes. I am wound up to a high pitch, the boy answered off-the-cuff.

Nevertheless, it is not easy for me to leave this place here. I can see how hard it is for Tana and Lars to leave Calfor’s gorge, and their sadness dampens my joy, he added silently.

Ragnor was almost a bit embarrassed, because he had sounded so joyful moments ago.

The black man nodded sympathetically, and he remarked, Yes, when people are getting old, a major change of location is always difficult for them, especially after spending several decades at such a secluded place.

 Their conversation was interrupted by eighteen gray donkeys and four packhorses, which Menno, Lars and Tana were about herding out of the stable, so that they could be loaded now. All of the animals were equipped with the panniers Ragnor had already firmly attached to their backs. It had demanded great skill, but Menno had managed to make the panniers during the past three weeks.

The animals wouldn’t have to carry their loads all the long way to Castle Kaarborg, but only to their intermediate stop in the free town Mors in the close distance. There, they would get hold of two carriages, which were much more suitable for such a long journey.

Nevertheless, they needed a considerable larger number of animals for their trip to their first destination than they had usually needed for their hunt in the great Northern forest or for their barter trades with the border town close by in the past.

 After the animals were loaded, Ragnor led Menno’s gray stallion and his Chorosani horse, Amarana, out of the stable. The two hoses would serve as riding animals for Tana and Lars. The two old people weren’t light on their feet anymore, and they wouldn’t be able to cover the distance to the free imperial city, Mors, on foot. On the previous evening, Ragnor had explained to his mare, Amarana, her task, and he had vigorously admonished her to be very careful with Tana.

 After some hesitation, the mare had promised it. She wasn’t all too happy about this long-winded task, but Ragnor had reassured her that he would ride her again from Mors.

Usually, Ragnor merely communicated telepathically with his own horse by touching her head with his quasar ring. This time, however, he had contacted Menno’s gray stallion, Kima, in the same manner as well, and he had instructed him to be careful with Lars on his back. From time to time, the slightly nervous horse could be quite rebellious. This first, telepathic contact with a human had obviously left a deep impression on him. Instead of sidling about as most of the times, the stallion was waiting patiently and calmly for their departure.

Before Ragnor left the barn with the two horses, he slowly looked around the place where he had played so often as a child. The building was cleared out and it was very silent. Somehow, everything looked quite unfamiliar, because the three-horn goats, which had always been behind the fence over there, weren’t here anymore. These animals had enlivened the barn with their blatting noises, but Menno and he had set them free in the valley this morning. They had returned them to the wild, because it wouldn’t have been possible to take them along to Mors as well and to sell them there.

Then the time had finally come! Before they said good-bye to Calfor’s gorge for good, Menno and Maramba bared the doors of the barn and the house with solid planks. As soon as they finished this work, they helped Lars and Tana to mount the horses. The two elderly people had watched the sealing of their house with tears in their eyes. When they were sitting on the horses, each one of the two old people reached for the long reins of two of the packhorses, whereas Maramba, Menno and Ragnor would lead six gray donkeys each. They were glad that they would have to travel in this manner only to Mors, which would take about four or five days. There, they would sell their provisions that they wouldn’t need anymore, as well as several pieces of their household stuff. Then they would buy two covered wagons, which would make their long journey to Kaarborg much more comfortable.

Now they were ready to head off for their first destination. The old Lars lifted his right hand and he gave the sign for their departure. Before he rode off, he resolutely shook of his sad mood and he said in a clear, steady voice, Over is over. Now we should focus on our voyage and on our new task.

Moreover, I am looking forward to see the girls again, he said with a wink.

Now even Tana couldn’t help laughing, and she dropped the remark, There is no fool like an old fool! Men are incurable, no matter how old they are.

All the others joined in laughing, and so their farewell to Calfor’s gorge turned into a positive atmosphere of departure.

While they were ascending the mountain pass, Ragnor was wondering what to expect in Kaarborg and how his future life would be there. First, however, he would reencounter his first great love, Ana, for the last time. This drop of bitterness dampened his delight in his new stage of life considerably. All of a sudden, he realized with surprise that he would fundamentally feel like Lars and Tana on their departure from Calfor’s gorge, when they would, after a short stay, eventually leave Mors for good and head for Kaarborg. Lars was right. He had told him once that each new beginning usually brought a loss in its wake as well; you had to come to terms with first.

 At this moment, a sudden jerk of the leading rein interrupted his melancholic train of thought; two of the last gray donkeys at the far end of the line had stopped at a bush in order to nosh on some sweet berries. Several, vigorous strokes with his long, flexible crop made the two gourmands refrain from their intention quickly. They started walking again, even though under loud protests.

After they moved along the narrow gorge, which connected Calfor’s gorge with the main pass to Mors, they finally reached the top of the pass. Immediately after their arrival, the animals were unloaded again and the two old people set about pitching their bivouacs.

Ragnor, Menno and Maramba, along with four of the donkeys, returned one more time in order to block the gorge with several trees that they had cut down three days ago. They had dragged them up the steep mountain pass with the help of their donkeys. Although the barricade wouldn’t be insurmountable, it would signal each stranger, who happened to come to this spot, that the place was abandoned and that there wasn’t anything of value. Maybe the trees would stop them from advancing to Calfor’s gorge.

It was late in the afternoon, when the four men returned to the small camp after their arduous work. In the meantime, Lars and Tana had already pitched up the three small travel tents they had taken with them. Tana was in the act of preparing dinner over a small campfire.

During the past days, she had precooked a large quantity of rabbit stew and put it into two big crocks for the transport. Now she was heating some of it in a small copper kettle. The stew radiated a delicious smell, which greeted the men on their way back through the narrow coulee that was similar to a chimney. When the smell reached their nostrils already from a distance, they realized how hungry they were.

 As soon as they arrived at the camp, Ragnor stepped up to Tana immediately. Snuffling with relish, he asked her, When can we eat? Menno is as hungry as usual!

Tana smiled, because she knew that the heavyset brown-haired man always had a hearty appetite. She raised her left hand and pointed at a small rock opposite the fireplace, and she answered, Dinner is ready. Let the hog and the other ones know. The eating bowls are over there.

 Shortly afterwards, when all of them were having dinner, Maramba asked the old Lars, By the way, have you ever been to Kaarborg? The old man nodded, and Ragnor requested him, Please tell us something about this area and what we will have to expect after our arrival in Kaarborg.

The old man put his plate aside, he smiled sympathetically and he said, Unfortunately, I have to disappoint you, because I also don’t know exactly what will be in store for us there, of course. However, I could tell you something about the countship and the castle.

Then he turned to Menno and he continued, Please go and fetch some cups and one of the wineskins the girls have given us to take with us. We don’t want to transport all of them completely filled back to Mors, do we? It would be pretty stupid, wouldn’t it?

Menno’s brown eyes lighted up with delight. Although he usually was not one for quick movements, he immediately leaped up to his feet. Moments later, he returned with five cups and two wineskins. When Tana looked at him inquiringly, he quickly said apologetically, Just in case. Maybe one won’t be sufficient.

Energetically, the old woman got up, and she took the second skin out of his hand with a significant look. Then she announced determinedly, One is more than enough.

When she went on her way and carried back the leather wineskin, Menno’s pretended consternation turned into a mischievous grin. While he was happily pouring the wine, he whispered to the men, Well, now we can be certain that we can empty this skin completely. Without this little trick, she would have admonished us not to drink too much all the time.

Lars started to grin as well, and he said wryly, You are a pretty artful fellow, my dear Menno. Take care that you won’t put a spoke in your own wheel by your mischievous games someday.

 Then they raised their glasses to one another, and as soon as Tana sat down and received her cup, Lars began to tell them about their new home in Kaarborg,

"The Countship Kaarborg is situated in the south of Caer, and it is the second biggest principality of the Kingdom Caer. Merely the heartland of the king, the Countship Caer, is bigger. The counts of Kaarborg and the royal dynasty of Caer have been allies for centuries. Moreover, the countships are related to each other by several marriages. The Countship Kaarborg plays an utmost important role in military matters, because three quarters of the border to the Kingdom Lorca are part of the Countship Kaarborg. In consequence of the increasingly difficult relationship to Lorca, this countship has a considerable number of armed forces at its disposal. Besides a contingent of one hundred armored riders and their squires, who are also called count knights; this county has a permanent regiment of well-trained foot soldiers at its command.

This regiment consists of one thousand men. All of them are free farmers who constitute eighty percent of the population. In Kaarborg, they do their military service in turns. Which means, each free farmer, at the age of fifteen to thirty-five, who is fit to bear arms, is called up for military service every five years for half a year. During his time in the armed forces, the farmer is exempted from any taxation, so that he can employ an administrator for the continuation of his farm.

This system is exceptional in Caer. In a minimum of time, it enables the Count of Kaarborg to levy nine active regiments that would be ready for operation in case of war.

Furthermore, if necessary, he can levy five additional regiments, the militia of the former generation of soldiers at the age of thirty-five to forty-five. If the rumors are to be believed, these men are every bit as fit for action as the active fighters.

The other countships and baronies usually don’t do anything, or almost anything, for the training of their soldiers; they prefer to commit mercenaries in case of their usual, mostly limited fights, so that their regiments of farmers are of little use in case of war.

The majority of these armed forces are deployed at Castle Kaarborg. However, in addition to them, the Count of Kaarborg maintains six big fortifications with public properties, which he has allocated to honorable members of the lower rural nobility. They have to finance the maintenance of the castles with the proceeds of the sale of their goods.

Each castle accommodates a garrison of about two hundred men. All of them are professional soldiers who are directly paid by the count as well. Thereby, their loyalty towards the count is ensured and the power of the ministry officials is restricted.

Besides these big castle complexes, there are several smaller castles and defense towers, which were mainly constructed by the lower rural nobility for the defense of their goods, and they are not under direct control of the count.

It is understood that this considerably enormous number of permanent armed forces causes great cost. Most of the money, which is needed for this purpose, is earned with sea trade. The goods turnover takes place at the biggest harbor of Caer – Santander. This business activity branch is the second, important branch of trade of Kaarborg.

By the way, in Santander, as well as on the Island Kaar, another five hundred comital professional soldiers are deployed as city ward each. In Kaarborg, the most important artery is the River Mors. From the Lake of Kaar, it is even navigable for smaller maritime vessels, and it enters the continental sea close to Santander. Castle Kaarborg is in the middle of the Lake of Kaar.

Due to the sea trade and river trade, Kaarborg has, besides its ground forces, a fleet as well. Twenty-five war galleys protect the river, the Lake of Kaar and the Harbor of Santander.

But now let’s talk about the actual destination of our journey; Castle Kaarborg and our new home."

At this point, Lars briefly interrupted his story. He took a big gulp of the aromatic red wine in order to moisten his throat. The wine came from Zephir, beyond the ocean.

Then he continued, "Castle Kaarborg is situated, as already mentioned, on an island in the middle of the Lake of Kaar, the largest inland lake in the Kingdom Kaar.

Because of this location, it is well protected against potential attacks, and it can only be reached by ship or by the big, wooden bridge, which leads to the street to Caerum.

A stony defensive wall with watchtowers surrounds the complete island and the small harbor.

The center of the island is Castle Kaarborg, which is the most powerful and biggest castle in Caer, and it is equipped with a wall, which is one and a half times taller than the city walls of Mors. The castle covers about one third of the surface of the island. Except for the castle, there are other constructions on the island, such as several depositories, a tiltyard, storage sheds, several royal stables, the comital market garden, and last but not least, guesthouses and brothels for the travelers and shippers.

In total, the island has about five thousand permanent residents. Strictly speaking, the Island Kaar is a city like Mors, and the number of inhabitants is about the same as well.

About two thousand and two hundred people of the five thousand inhabitants live in the castle; one thousand men are members of the current militia regiment on duty, five hundred men belong to the regular garrison of the fortress, two hundred men are comital knights or squires, and the other five hundred people are attendants of the castle. The remaining two thousand eight hundred inhabitants are distributed to the village, the taverns, the harbor and the fleet. In addition to them, there are always about five hundred travelers, but the number varies seasonally. Most of them stay in Kaarborg merely temporarily. The majority of them are traders, shippers of riverboats, officials and soldiers."

At this point, the old man finished his introduction. He reached for his cup and he took another big gulp.

Oh well, this red wine is good, he said with a mischievous grin. In return, an uneasy smile flashed over Tana’s face, because she didn’t like it at all, when Lars drank larger quantities of alcohol.

Then, scrutinizing, the old man looked around the circle, and his eyes finally rested on Ragnor. He noticed the tense, inquiring look of the boy. Therefore, he addressed him, That was just a brief overview of the situation in Kaarborg. Do you want to know anything in particular?

Ragnor, who was still fascinated by the description of the old man, immediately took advantage of this opportunity. A while ago, Lars had turned him down in an ironical manner, but the boy stubbornly repeated his question, What will I have to expect in Kaarborg? What do you think? Lars smiled sympathetically. He had already expected this question. He ran his fingers over his white beard and then he answered, I think that Rurig will send you to the knight’s academy at Castle Kaarborg, so that you can continue with your training and pass through the various trials required to become a knight in about two years.

Ragnor was glad to hear that answer. He had already been afraid that Rurig’s sudden appointment as count could mean an abrupt end of the training he had began last year. Now that he was in the picture what the future would bring to him, his curiosity was aroused, because he wanted to know the plans of the other ones. Therefore, he looked at his mentor and asked him another question, What are you and the others going to do in Kaarborg, by the way?

The old man reflected for a moment, and then he replied with a shrug, To tell the truth, I actually don’t have a clue. I only know that Rurig has requested us to lend him our support and to accompany him to Kaarborg. Time will tell. Maybe I could teach again. As soon as these words passed his lips, Menno rolled his eyes, and a bit histrionically, he said, The poor students. Maybe it would have been better to leave you at Calfor’s gorge. Look who’s talking! The old man grumbled, and he darted a disapproving glance at Menno. A bit more education certainly wouldn’t have harmed you, too. All of them laughed, as they listened to this dispute, which had been going on for years. The two old friends didn’t miss any opportunity to needle each other a bit.

Their journey to Mors was eventless. They approached their first destination leisurely and without any incidents. On their way along the big pass in the direction of Mors, they encountered neither bandits, nor any merchants who headed for the great Northern forest. It was an unmistakable sign that the times were becoming increasingly uncertain. The victory over the bandits had enormously disturbed the silent party truce between merchants and outlaws. It seemed that the otherwise rather hardboiled traders currently didn’t dare to travel to the great Northern forest. For that reason, it had probably been the best decision to leave Calfor’s gorge and to move to Kaarborg, the heart of Caer.

The memory of the fierce battle for the benefit of Mors was still fresh in Ragnor’s mind. For the first time, he had taken part in a bigger fight with several hundred participants back then.

In the course of a single combat, he had killed the leader of the outlaws, Kraak the Ork, a notorious sword fighter, but it had been very close. The Ork had clearly been the better swordsman, and the boy had merely won the fight, because his quasar sword, Quorum, had destroyed the weapons, the sword and the shield of his opponent.

His sword Quorum and his dagger Quart were part of his inheritance and his origin. When Lars and Rurig had found him as a baby, these weapons, along with a blue cloak, which displayed an unfamiliar coat of arms, had sat next to him. These weapons were wondrous; they were made of an extremely solid material, which was called Quasar. It was not only possible to fight with them – when Ragnor meditated, he even could mentally enter the crystalline structure. When he focused on his weapons during a fight, or in case of an emotional outburst, the quasar flashed brightly, and its penetrating power was increased to such a degree that these weapons could even destroy iron swords. One day, he would probably solve the mystery of his roots. The young man, who already stood head and shoulders above his traveling companions, had every intention to follow up on this matter and look for answers after he would be an adult and a knight.

At about noon on the fifth day of their journey, they reached the summit of the pass. A little while later, they could see the familiar silhouette of the city Mors in front of them. They took a break on a small, rocky plateau, where several stunted mountain pines grew between the rocks. Before they set off for their descent to Mors, they sat down below the trees, which provided a bit shade at least.  

Ragnor tied his gray donkeys to one of the pines, so that they could feast on the bleak clumps of grass, which grew up here. Maramba helped the boy unloading the heavy burden, so that the animals could freely focus on the intake of food.

After their work was done, the black man stepped up to Tana in order to drink some water, while Ragnor went to the edge of the small rocky plateau. From there, he had a good view of the city in the distance.

Ragnor was a bit tired. He took off his helmet and his hauberk. Menno had instructed him to wear this heavy piece of clothing during their journey all the time. He put the things on a small rock and he wiped the sweat from his forehead with relief.

The midday sun had already gained enormous power. It wasn’t surprising, because spring had almost turned into early summer in the north of Makar.