Kingdom Come (Price of Power Book 1) Read online

  “You see, Feyado, I’m sure this is strange for you, for all of you…having these monsters here amongst us,” he over exaggerated the word monsters and glanced to his companions, “however this is what is special about Faletonia. They can stand before you now, and no one here needs to worry about violence or brutality…this is what we have formed. This is what the world will come to know.” The looks on the faces of the orcs were not so convincing of their peaceful intent, but they held an unimposing stance.

  “How exciting,” the Crimson Fox captain said as he clasped his hands. “Please tell us more of Faletonia.”

  Chapter 9

  It didn’t take long for Sterlis and Gianna to realize that the high grasses they were approaching were just an outer shell for a large field of crops. Apparently the Faletonians wanted to keep their cultivated land somewhat disguised to a foreign eye, but as you approached, the sheer vastness could not let the truth be hidden. Long stalks of wheat spread over the landscape. The man and woman quietly pushed through them towards the city. They were getting rather close now, but could not see the city because the crops grew high. Then the wheat abruptly stopped and there was about a half an acre of much shorter crops such as onions and radishes.

  Sterlis and Gianna remained hidden within the wheat and gazed at the city. Both stood in awe as they laid eyes upon the site before them. It was amazing. The city was large and there were inhabitants everywhere outside its walls. The surrounding wall had an unfinished breach with some scaffolding around it, which enabled Sterlis and Gianna to see in. The buildings were not very sophisticated but some stood several stories high. Construction was going on everywhere. Smoke rose out of chimneys, carts were being pulled to and fro. Several flags and banners flew, bearing the sign of Faletonia.

  It was neither the construction nor the buildings that was most remarkable to the two onlookers. It was the residents. What the they observed was enough to drop the jaw of even the most well traveled person. Just beyond the edge of the cultivated land was a group of orcish children, playing what seemed like tag. Within the short crops, not too far away, were several goblins and a couple of orcs, picking some harvest (which made both Sterlis and Gianna both look around and behind them to make sure they did not get unexpectedly stumbled upon by farmers). Near the gap in the wall orcs, some goblins and an even a massive giant were placing stones, cementing bricks and performing other acts of masonry. The humans were in awe at the sight of the giant. Its frame was so large and its strength seemed daunting. Ogres were going back and forth with massive wheel barrows filled with stone and cement, each creature moving a load that would need five men to push. Sweat dripped from their round bald heads. Female orcs were carrying bundles of cloth and baskets of crops to some unknown destinations back in the city.

  This was unheard of! This was extraordinary! These races rarely were able to exist amongst themselves, nonetheless mixed together. There seemed to be no problems at all. In fact, they worked efficiently. The smaller goblins worked in the cultivated field, the large ogres and giants carried heavy loads, doing several times the work that a human or orc could do at one time. Neither Gianna nor Sterlis had ever seen an ogre or a giant. They kept marveling at the beasts.

  Gianna pulled back further into the wheat with a bewildered look on her face, almost a mask of concern. Sterlis looked at her and shook his head. He whispered, “Can you believe this? I’ve never seen anything like it?”

  Gianna slowly shook her head and then said quietly “But Sterlis…I’m confused. We stand here in a huge farmed field. Have you ever heard of orcs that farmed large plots of land…or goblins for that matter? I’m not so sure giants do either. How could they have done this so well? How could we not be aware of this?” These were indeed good questions. None of the races that they saw were known for farming, yet this plot of land looked rather expertly put together. This city was well developed and there were hundreds of Faletonians in plain site yet no one in the south cities was aware of this? How secluded to the world did they live? The men of the three cities of the South Sea clearly ostracized themselves from the rest of Herridon. The leadership of their cities did not promote travel, growth or expansion.

  It was hard for them to see just how big the city was in its entirety. Was this all of Faletonia. Was the attack on the dwarven mines of Orzalar launched from this city? Were there other cities? Many of these questions loomed at large, however Sterlis and Gianna had to report what they did know back to Ardius. And so they observed for a while longer then headed back.

  When they returned to their companions, both sides told their stories. First Sterlis and Gianna described the city and the inhabitants. The others listened with great interest and asked several questions. Then, Ardius told the story of Thomas and the orcs and goblin, which surprised Sterlis and Gianna.

  Thomas was surprisingly unalarmed by the humans he found loitering near some rocks close to the city. It was obvious that they were not a great threat, but Ardius was shocked that he did not demand more questions from him. Thomas simply told them of the city nearby and the story of Faletonia; he kept it brief. His words almost sounded as if he were trying to pitch them on the idea. Perhaps he was. Then as quick as they came, Thomas, the orcs and the goblin were gone.

  Thomas was human and, for whatever reason, he found his way to the new civilization that was called Faletonia and began a new life. He mentioned that humans were by far the minority, but found no problems with the other races. Each race was called upon to maintain civility. Violation of this edict was supposedly a very punishable offense, and adherence to it promised reward. This was the secret to their success at cohabitation. Thomas and the orcs said they were leaving on a scouting mission, and that they were to link up with another group of orcs who had left a day or two earlier. He had asked if the travelers had seen them on their way and they all said no, but they all couldn’t help but think of the orcs they encountered near the small pond and forest. Thomas may never find the orcs he was looking for…unless he searched the swampy land near the pond a short journey away, where the orcs lay dead, hidden in the dense growth of the mire.

  ***

  An army was assembled outside the city of Rogsnelk. Thousands of soldiers waited for the orders of their commanders. They were disheveled and unorganized. Many of them had not ever heard the cries of war or seen the terror of battle. The more seasoned soldiers were mixed in units so that they were able to guide the inexperienced men, who looked around nervously to be sure they were in the correct positions.

  “Infantry! Prepare for attack,” screamed one commander who rode on horseback just before the front line. Two other commanders relayed the command to the men near them. The soldiers tightened into three rectangular formations. The archers all found their way to the back. Once the army was situated and the foot soldiers were all up front, all of the men began to move forward. After fifteen paces the commander yelled out again. “Ok, halt! That was faster, but needs work.”

  The city of Rogsnelk had found out about Faletonia, as had the other two cities in the area, Lunemire and Abellard. The townsfolk and council of Rogsnelk were both intrigued and cautious when considering this new force. An attack on their city could be imminent. With this in mind, the Rogsnelk’s council had ordered the city to prepare an army for war. This required most able-bodied men to assemble and train, and they needed the practice. The soldiers were sloppy and unorganized, but their commanders would work out the kinks the best they could. They would be as prepared as they could be for an advance by Faletonia, if it did indeed come to that.

  A commander by the name of Andres sat atop his horse and eyed the soldiers. He was a fair skinned man with a mop of curly hair atop his head. Andres took note of the looks on their faces. Some were still teenagers and others had their prime years long behind them. Some were visibly afraid, even without a foe present, and some wore bold expressions. The commander turned his head abruptly to the side as a horse and rider came charging around the ranks.


  Captain Antonel approached on his strong white steed. He came quickly and pulled his magnificent animal to a halt as he reached Andres. Victus was the more senior of the two and it was apparent. The Captain nodded to the commander then looked at the men. He exuded confidence. “Well done men, you have answered the call of your city. But the task is not over. This army must be ready for anything that comes our way. We cannot rely on Lunemire or Abellard to come to our aide if we are under siege.”

  He wore his full armor this day, which was strange for a practice run with the army. It emphasized, however, both his position and the seriousness with which he looked at the current situation. His armor was finely crafted with sparkling chain mail wrapping his arms and legs where the light plated armor did not cover. He wore no helmet, his brown hair running long and free. His eyes were dark blue, similar to the color of the waters of the South Sea. At twenty-seven years old, he appeared younger than his age, yet his actions would make you think had seen more years. A magnificent white cape draped down his back until it rested on his horse. It was rumored the cape was enchanted with some form of magic, but most thought the story just a myth. Either way, he seemed to glow with poise and strength.

  The common folk of Rogsnelk held Victus in the highest regard. Even the people of Abellard and, to a lesser extent, Lunemire, knew of his valor. He was a people’s champion. He had recently joined the city council, although very young for the position, and often argued for the needs of the peasants. The Captain would ride the streets and outskirts of the city and would be the first to help move a carriage stuck in mud or assist other citizens in need in anyway he could. If highwaymen or monsters on the road became a problem for the people and traders of Rogsnelk, Captain Antonel would ride on them and put an end to the threat. The soldiers took comfort seeing him before them, clad in his armor like a hero, riding on his valiant steed.

  “Go now, home to your families or wherever it is you go. All will be expected to be here again tomorrow, just after mid day.” With that the soldiers disassembled and went back to being common citizens of Rogsnelk. More than few passed by and shook Victus’s hand or just said hello. Once they all had left, Victus stayed behind with his officer.

  A smirk appeared on The Captain’s face, “We’d be in a lot of trouble were we to be attacked by the monsters today.”

  “They’re improving, my captain,” replied Andres.

  “Well they need to improve tenfold from what I’ve seen. I have approached the city council to begin weapons training each day as well.” Victus could see concern in the face of his officer, “If we must hamper the commerce of the city in order to train our men, then so be it. It is not the men who are merchants who will save us if…when Faletonia come, it will be the soldiers.”

  The commander nodded to please his captain, “yes, we will work on these defensive measures, and be ready for whatever comes.”

  “Yes…and, if they come, they will regret the day did so, that is my word.” Victus spurred his horse and was off with speed towards the city.

  ***

  The night was particularly dark with only a sliver of moon in the sky. It was late and the streets were vacant. Captain Victus Antonel hurried into a dark alley. He could hardly see a couple feet in front of him yet he looked anxiously all around to be sure he wasn’t being watched. The Captain turned and walked slowly down the alley until he reached the wall at its end. He then made a right down the ally that ran perpendicular and scrolled his hand against the wall as he went on. Once his hands felt the frame of a door he knocked once, then three times, then once again, looking around cautiously again in the process.

  The click of a lock opening was heard and the door crept ajar with an unwelcomed creak. Victus quickly entered. The room was musky and dimly lit. One sole torch burned near a rectangular table, casting bouncing shadows from the figures that sat near it.

  “Welcome Captain Antonel,” said the man who had opened the door, a tall middle-aged man with long blonde hair. A man Victus Antonel knew well.

  Victus moved to the table and addressed each of the three men sitting with a handshake, and then he himself sat. “It is almost time,” he said to the others.

  “Indeed,” replied a burly man in a tight hood with a black goatee, one of the three men already at the table. There were five in total when both the tall blonde man who opened the door, whose name was Ryon Ludlow, and Victus sat down. Three of the men, including Victus and the blonde man, were officers of the Rogsnelk army. The burly man in the hood was a high-ranking officer from the army of the city of Abellard. The fifth man sat at the far end of the table. He was a curious looking fellow who wore a dark tunic with his hood down. On his hands he wore gloves that had the tops of the fingers cut off, exposing his bare fingers tips. This man was a member of the Crimson Fox, an unscrupulous underground guild of the three cities.

  “How do you suppose things will go with the council tomorrow?” Asked Ryon Ludlow. “They will surely be taken aback by your intention.”

  “Perhaps more by my insistence,” said Victus with a smirk. “I will plead my case. They, like us, must understand that defensive measures are not enough. The monsters grow in power by the day; their numbers multiply like so many vermin in an abandoned granary. I am near the end of my days of bending my knee to the council. Novel ideas and proposals go underappreciated and denied too often when left to those old fools. My men and I will ride regardless of their decision, for some of my commanders and I have been questioning the council’s leadership. I’ve sat on the council now for just a few months, but I don’t want to be considered a member. When they speak, I don’t know what to believe. I can’t tell what is real and what is agreed upon in advance secretly in the confines of their private chambers. Is it truly the welfare of the common man that they serve? For years I’ve seen stagnant growth while the treasury of the city flourished and the council members got rich. Although I am hardly made privy to our finances, they would not wan to allow such a thing. We all know I am not alone. Who here is satisfied with the councils of their city?” The silence of the men along with their expressions showed they agreed. Orvious, the captain from Abellard, even made a noise that emphasized his disgust with his city’s council. This turned Victus’s attention to him. “Orvious, does all remain as we understand it with Abellard?”

  “My army is prepared for battle, with the support of our city council, although it took convincing and disagreement among them. Our council is not very different than yours. Men squabble to serve their own interest. It literally cost some of our officers gold to arrange for this. Others will have the council’s approval held over their head as leverage for years; however they believe in your cause. It is a shame that there is hesitancy with your council, I’m sure this will cost us resources… or men.” Orvious proclaimed as he tapped a thick finger on the table. “And what still of Lunemire?” The question resonated for a bit as each man at the table looked to one another.

  Finally the silence was broken, “they will not ride.” Said the representative of the Crimson Fox, “however my connections on their council have at least assured they will send supplies, but that is all.” He put his elbows on the table and his fingertips together. His hood still hung partially over his head.

  “Bastards! Then so be it!” Victus’s voice rose as he pounded the table with his fist, which drew a “shhhhh” from Ryon Ludlow. “In three days we ride to the north, with at the very least two thousand five hundred men, the greatest force ever assembled south of the plains. When we find the enemy, we will take their stronghold and send their ranks scattering back to the holes from which their ugly heads have emerged. They will not be given the chance to threaten our cities.” The boldness of his voice had the others nodding in agreement.

  “As I said and as you both must know,” Captain Antonel pointed at the other two captains of Rogsnelk and continued, “if the council disapproves of war, then we will be openly rebelling…my troops are ready to follow me… to support us. I hope you
rs are as well. We all know the way of orcs and, even worse, we’ve all heard of the treachery of giants. How many times have orcs attacked men travelling to and from our cities or ravaged our countryside. Are we to think that hundreds or even thousands together would suddenly be peaceful?”

  The third captain, a muscular man who wore fine expensive garments sat up and declared, “my men will follow me…and I follow you…therefore we will all follow you to our death if need be.” He nodded his head to Victus.

  “Very well.” Victus replied and he nodded back. “And the dwarves of Orzalar?” He shot a glance in the direction of the man from the Crimson Fox, “what did they say Haitius, were you able to provide some value to this movement?”

  A wry smile crossed Haitius’s face as the slight insult did not evade him. “The dwarves welcomed the news and will wait to see if the Faletonian forces will weaken in their captured tunnels as a response to our attack. If they do weaken…” he tapped his fingertips together, “they will launch an attack of their own, first regaining their tunnels and, according to their word, they will leave the mountain in pursuit of the fleeing army, to help finish off the threat. This is only if they win their tunnels back.”

  “Excellent! That’s all we can ask since we did not send men to help them,” said Victus. “And what of the wizards?” He spoke lowly and it was clear The Captain did not feel comfortable talking about the magic users.

  “As was promised, The Crimson Fox supports you by way of providing three experienced mages to your army. You will marvel at their power.” No one in the room knew what to think of this. Magic was unknown to everyone. The Crimson Fox was the only entity that controlled magic users. The time of broad magic use was over and had been for some time. Arcane magic was considered dangerous and even evil to some.

  Victus stood from the table. “Brilliant! Then let it be known that, at this table, the final decision to stand for what is right and just was made. The importance of this decision will eventually be appreciated and praised by all. We will fight together as men of the goodly races, and our wrath will be terror for those who oppose us. We will protect our cities and our people, and not rest until we’ve reached this goal.” His chiseled face looked confident. The Captain moved towards the exit. The other men then stood and began to head back out towards the alley as well.