The Three Kings by Slawomir Rapala	Biography and Bibliography
Table of Contents Chapter III: End of Days part 5 of 5

Indeed, Aezubah was not wasting a moment. He took only enough time to part formally with the murdered Duke and to bury him according to Northern traditions. The body had to be burned at dusk of the day of death in order to bind the soul forever to the remains. Formal prayers had to be said, offerings had to be made, and sacrifices had to be presented if Vahan was to enter the afterlife.

As soon as time permitted, Aezubah started back to the Jewel. It was the middle of the night, but no one voiced any concern about traveling through the treacherous forest after dark. Torches were lit, the warriors formed two columns and set off towards the palace.

A magnificent sight it was: hundreds of handsome but grim men swiftly making their way through the perilous woods, each carrying a torch, riding fast alongside their own shadows, in a total silence that was at once magical and menacing. Only the frothing of the horses and the roaring sound of their hooves beating against the stone path broke the spell of this journey.

Jasper approached Aezubah only once during the trip back. “What do you intend to do?” he asked when their horses drew even.

The old man gazed at him from beneath a dark hood with the motionless eyes of a statue.

“I’m going after them, of course,” was all he said, but the tone of his voice and the expression of his pained features revealed the full extent of his determination. He was pale, his lips were tightly sealed and the look in his eyes was that of death itself. Riding with a torch raised high in the air, wrapped tightly in a black robe, his face white and his eyes burning with hatred, he looked like the grim reaper himself.

Jasper said nothing and pulled on the reins. He slowed his mount’s pace until the remainder of his companions reached him. The General rode alone several dozen paces in front of the Wolves. He wanted solitude and they respected that.

“It looks like the old man got hit pretty hard,” one of the warriors said when Jasper joined them. “I wouldn’t want to be those sons of bitches right now! If he gets them in his hands, he’ll skin them alive!”

“I’m not surprised at all!” Jasper grit his teeth. “I can hardly wait myself to get to those bastards! They’ll pay for what they did in Uaal!”

Someone spat with disgust and cursed the Tha-kians.

“I’m not surprised, because Vahan was his good friend and he’s been around that kid for years now,” the first Wolf continued. “Hell, he practically raised Iskald himself.”

“So what’s he going to do?”

“He’s going after them!”

“And us?”

“What do you think?”

“Unless you want to stay here and mourn with the women!” someone else gave a bitter laugh.

“Warriors don’t mourn! They take vengeance!”

“Come on!” Jasper shouted and followed. The heavy hooves thundered on the stone track as they pressed on through the night. The ever-present caracaras circled over their heads and their unpleasant cries sent shivers down the spines of the fearless warriors. But soon they left the dark and twisted jungle behind and the ravens along with it.

The strangely empty feeling did not leave them, though, even as they raced through the gates of the Jewel and stopped the frothing horses abruptly in the middle of the square. They knew that this feeling would not leave them for a long time, perhaps not ever. Vahan had built the fortress, and everything in it whispered his name. Now, for the first time ever, his home stood empty and the Duke would never return.

Aezubah shook his head, chasing away grim thoughts, and slid off the saddle. He threw the reins to the stable boy and turned to his companions.

“Don’t even bother getting off your horses!” he said. “I want one of you to ride down to Hvoxx, find the news-bearer and have him alert the town about the death of Vahan and the capture of Iskald! Send couriers to other towns as well!”

The last of the Wolves, who was just coming through the gates, turned his horse without a single word and raced back out and down the slope, towards the sleeping city. He disappeared in the darkness and only his torch could be seen moving swiftly down the winding path.

“Jasper!” Aezubah automatically assumed command as the natural state of things. “Ride down to Triahnnem and ready three ships! I want them loaded with supplies and three thousand Wolves by sunrise, understand?!”

“The ships stand ready since this afternoon. But you want me to gather three thousand Wolves by sunrise?” Jasper asked with disbelief. Such preparations would take days, he thought.

“We have a division a thousand in number right here in Hvoxx. I’ll send couriers down the coast with orders to release the Wolves from the strongholds where they’re stationed. You do the same up the coast from Triahnnem; don’t waste your time explaining anything; just order them to be in the port by sunrise, ready for anything. Anything, you understand? We might have to track those devils all the way to Dilli! Go, now!”

The highlander said nothing more, turned his horse and thundered out of the square, raising clouds of dust along the way.

“What about us?” the others were asking. “What can we do?”

“Go with Jasper, he’ll need your help! Just remember: the ships and men must be ready by sunrise, I don’t care how you do it! If they aren’t, I swear to all the bloody gods, I’ll have you all hanging! Move!”

After a short while, the square stood empty and ghastly silence came over the Jewel. Having given the orders and dispatched the couriers, Aezubah sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again they were turned toward the ocean, an endless mass of water presently hidden by the black cloak of night. His eyes remained cold as he stood motionless for a long, long time, planning his vengeance, the vengeance that would shake the world and place his name once again on the lips of people all over North and South.

“They shall hear of me once more,” the General whispered into the wind. Then he crossed the square and entered the palace, where he spent the rest of the night studying the maps of the known areas of the Azmattic Ocean.

No one disturbed him. The Jewel was empty, and Hvoxx, though woken and alerted by the courier, quietly mourned the loss of the revered Duke and the dreadful fate of his son. By morning all of the Estate was aware of the terrible tragedy and all Lyonese mourned and wept.

Aezubah did not sleep, eat or drink. He spoke to no one throughout the night and left his chambers only when the sun was beginning to rise. It was still slowly emerging from behind the horizon when he reached Triahnnem, riding alone. Jasper was just giving the last of the orders, the porters were finishing loading the ships with supplies.

Three thousand Wolves were gathered on the shore. It had been a long time since the port had seen so many in one place. They came as soon as they could because they held Aezubah in tremendous esteem and knew that he would not call on them without a good reason.

As soon as the first ones arrived, Jasper told them the dreadful news and they passed it on to the Wolves that came later. They kept coming and coming all night long, until finally all of the ones that were called for stood in Triahnnem, ready to embark on the journey. Vengeance was on their minds. They wished to hunt the Tha-kians, to avenge the death of their Duke and to free his son, the rightful owner of the Estate’s throne.

They wanted blood.

Aezubah grinned menacingly as he looked at them from atop a rise where he halted his horse. He could sense it again; the cold fist of war. The smell of hatred and blood, the sound of metal clashing against metal and the agonized screams of the butchered.

Pleasant shivers running down his spine reminded him of the destruction and the pain that he had seen and of which he, himself, had been the cause. With these men he could do it all once again, he thought. He could shake the foundations of the world one more time.

Seeing the hundreds of bloodthirsty warriors gathered before him, the General could not help but think how much they resembled a pack of predators, ready to hunt, fight and murder. Bored with the monotonous life in the coastal strongholds, they were eager to wage war. They wished to track their enemies, tear them in two with their hungry blades and to drown them in a sea of their own blood.

Aezubah and Jasper quickly filled the three ships with the help of division leaders. The old general was the last to walk over the unsteady plank and board the largest of the three vessels. When everything was set, he looked over the ships for the final time. Armored warriors shimmered in the rays of the rising sun. The ships and the entire sea, as far as the eye could see, were blazing red. Three thousand men looked at him, their eyes burning like the crimson sun. Aezubah’s lips curled into a cruel smile. He could almost taste Tha-kians’ blood on his lips.

“Get to it!” he motioned to the captain.

The grinding sound of rising anchors was greeted with a unanimous howl and thousands of blood-chilling war cries rising from the throats of the Northern Wolves. It was welcomed with hungry screams that would soon haunt the Tha-kians in their very sleep. The crew raised the sails and the magnificent flagship Dynah was the first of the three to leave the port and to enter the open waters of the Azmattic Ocean.

The first rays of the rising sun witnessed the beginning of a new and turbulent period in the history of the Estate of Lyons.

Proceed to Chapter 4, part 1...

Copyright © 2008 by Slawomir Rapala