The Wintershall Tales

That’s it!  Thanks for sticking with the tales of Fortitude and his companions.  Hope you enjoyed it!

Chris

In children’s tales, everyone lives happily ever after once the king has been crowned and married his queen.  For Fortitude and his companions though, things were not so simple. 

Archesia proved to be a hard realm to rule.  Its lords were proud and Fortitude’s desire to create a fair and equal land for all caused considerable strife.  In the few years following the coronation there were no less than five uprisings and rebellions.  Each, in turn, was crushed by a mass of Lunar, Kingdom and Dierdrakin forces.  Many estates were confiscated or overrun by goblins during these times. 

The last open rebellion was three years after the coronation.  When the archduke concerned was publicly devoured by goblins after having several large shambling masses of gelatinous ooze rampage through his estates, the Archesian nobility grudgingly gave up their struggle.

Fortitude’s low birth did give him some advantages, however.  Where the nobles saw Fortitude as an usurper, the people of Archesia came to love and support him.  He removed unfair laws, reduced onerous taxes and treated even the most common of people with dignity and respect.  Peasants flocked to his banner and swelled the ranks of his new armies.

Throughout this time, Fortitude grew in confidence and experience.  His judgements were considered and well-advised and he developed a reputation for his sense and insight. 

Adela remained firmly at his side bolstering his confidence when it was needed and providing him with intelligent advice, and unflagging support.  Though their first child was born a little under a year after the coronation, Adela barely slowed in her work forming the new administration, and brokering support for Fortitude’s various initiatives.

The spirit of Baron Mortimer continued advising Fortitude on statecraft.  The blade remained at his side at all times and Fortitude found its advice grew, rather than diminished, in usefulness as the years passed.

Carolus continued serving Fortitude well in Archesia during these years.  He built a powerful administration and intelligence service for the new monarchy and complimented Fortitude’s humanistic leadership style with a ruthless and carefully considered approach that earned him fear and respect in equal measure.  When Fortitude’s reason and judgement failed to sway opposition, Carolus would use fear and unflinching action to help people understand the error of their ways.

In Gavin, Martyn and the Dierdrakin provided similarly loyal service to Fortitude.  The people there were more accepting of Fortitude’s rule and Martyn’s astute judgement and deft leadership approach prevented much opposition from arising in the first place.  The Dierdrakin flourished in that land and built new villages and towns in the high hills below Merrin’s mountain.  They continued to worship the Lady Dierdra in all her guises, but, as demanded by Fortitude, they mostly ceased their practices of sacrificing the elderly and the infirm.  Over time, their seven villages became ten and then twenty.

Merrin also continued her obsessive support for the Beastlord and, perhaps intentionally, developed a habit of appearing floating in mid-air before Fortitude in her twisting writhing dress at times when he was locked in confrontation with one lord or another.  Her supplication to him had a salutary effect on many of Fortitude’s opponents who were both impressed and intimidated by the fact that a goddess bowed to him and addressed him in the humblest of tones.

Good as always to his word, Fortitude remained loyal to King William in Bayonnar.  He raised and fielded armies year after year to support the King’s imperial ambitions and the Lunar, Dierdrakin, Gavinite and Archesian standards appeared across the world over the ensuing decades.  The judicious use of goblins and the powers and creatures of the temple of Merrin enhanced their capability to previously unheard of levels and the royal banner of Archesia became one of the most feared and respected symbols on battlefields.  Nothing stood before Fortitude’s armies.

***

The majority of Fortitude’s companions and followers dispersed soon after the coronation to pursue their own destinies and ends. 

Sang was the first member of the company to leave.  Three months after the coronation, he came to Fortitude in his chamber one evening to bid him farewell.  “I grieve,” he said without preamble.  “My heart is sick for those who died at Tsi-Nan.  Forgive me friend Fortitude, but I must leave you.  I must atone in some way and find peace.” 

Despite Fortitude’s entreaties, Sang could not be dissuaded.  He disappeared into night and none of the company ever saw him again alive. 

His fate was not ignoble, however and it was reported back to Fortitude in the later years of his life through tales and songs.  It is said that Sang left Archesia and travelled south into Han.  He wandered those lands for many months trying to find some way of assuaging the guilt that continued to haunt him. 

At length, Sang’s wanderings brought him to the monastery of Kwai Huo.  It was an ancient place that sat above a mountain ravine linking Han with the barbarian lands of the Khanate Hordes to the south. 

His sorrow must have been great indeed.  In his first months there he penned the Songs of Regret and the Thoughts of the Man Who Lived but One Day.  Both of them were printed, reprinted and circulated across all civilised lands.  Few who have read them have not shed at least one tear.

Sang meditated, lived and trained at Kwai Huo as one of the monks and, after a time, found a kind of peace teaching the arts of Aybani to those who shared that holy place with him.  He achieved renown in those times for his wisdom, compassion and mastery of Aybani.  After his death, his writings were published as the Sutras of the Bottle and the Kneecap and greatly influenced the art of Aybani for centuries thereafter.

His fame was ensured, however, through the manner of his death.  In the eighth year after the taking of Archesia, the barbarian hordes of the Khanate massed and struck towards Han.  The Han army was still weak and was dispersed across the Empire.  It could never have held the hordes had it not been for Sang and fifty of his students.

They held the little road in the narrow pass below Kwai Huo for twelve days against the horde of thirty thousand and through skill and dedication, contrived to kill more than five thousand of those savage southern barbarians.  It is said that more than half of that horde fled back to their own lands when they saw the ferocity of Sang and the Fifty. 

It is also said that when Sang and the Fifty finally fell the Khanate Warlord turned his army about and marched them back to their own savage lands.  “If a few monks could hold us thus, then what would we find awaiting us beyond the mountains,” he is believed to have said.

When the Han army finally reached the pass below Kwai Huo, they found thousands upon thousands of Khanate dead piled high in the ravine below the roadway.  Sang’s body was lying in a position of honour upon a stone bier.  The bier was surrounded by crude offerings and looked more like the last resting place of a barbarian King – than that of a humble monk.

***

Marcus married Margrite later that first summer and rather than settling down and becoming respectable, Marcus seemed to delight in attempting every dubious and lucrative scheme that his over-imaginative brain could concoct. 

Fortitude placed him in charge of finance in Archesia and, for a while things seemed to go well.  Revenue doubled then tripled as Marcus encouraged trade, attracted new enterprise and invested cleverly in a variety of activities.  However, rumours began to circulate as a variety of scams and other dubious ventures began emanating out of Archesia.

The Han Widows and Orphans War Fund was the first of many collections taken up for non-existent charitable organisations.  These were accompanied by raffles with huge but non-existent prizes, confidential offers of too-good-to-be-true investment opportunities, pyramid schemes and floats of shares in talked-up companies which invariably failed.  All of these were traced back to Archesia during those years.

Marcus grew improbably rich and came to own huge estates in six countries.

Six years after Fortitude’s coronation Marcus’ involvement in these enterprises became widely suspected.  The arrangements were clever and nothing could be actually proven, but Fortitude knew Marcus well enough to be sure where the blame lay.  He took the unusual step of making Marcus retire from all his public offices and offered him a ducal estate in Archesia if he agreed to forswear all illegal and immoral activities.

Marcus was so wealthy by that time that he accepted this offer.  He and Margrite retired from a career of state-sponsored extortion and moved into international banking and trade.  At last count the assets of the Grand-Duke; Marcus uls Baden was several times greater than that of the rest of Archesia combined.

Dunstan assisted Marcus in many of his little schemes in those early years and was also greatly enriched as a consequence.  In the end, however, Dunstan’s interests lay primarily back in Warminster and Skenfrith.  He returned to the royal palace of Bayonnar with increasing regularity and became a popular figure in the court through a long string of successes in the royal tournaments.  Prince Erneis continued to regard him with a kind of depraved admiration and made him a trusted confidant and advisor. 

When Dunstan’s father died in suspicious circumstances it was Prince Erneis’ friendship that saved Dunstan from a messy investigation following accusations of patricide. 

Dunstan settled down to a disreputable life as the infamously rich Earl of Skenfrith and royal advisor to Prince Erneis.

***

The Lunar temple of Grippli flourished under Carolus over these years.  Much to the disgust of Celia, Carolus continued to support and uphold Fortitude in all things and, in turn, Fortitude rewarded Carolus’ loyalty with offices and powers.  Within five years of Fortitude’s accession to the Archesian throne, the temples of Grippli and Merrin had come to dominate the Archesian pantheon – just as the temples of Merrin and Dierdra came to dominate the Kingdom of Gavin.

Unlike the temple of Merrin, though, the Lunar temple under Carolus held and effectively exploited most of the non-revenue related high offices of Archesia.  Within a decade, Carolus was able to truthfully boast that those sacrificing and worshipping in the temples to Grippli numbered more than a million.

The word of Grippli was not received so well outside Archesia, however – due, in no small part, to the work of Celia. 

Seeing that growth in Archesia was unlikely given Fortitude’s loyalties to Merrin and Carolus, Celia quit it early and returned to Warminster where, with the King’s approval, she began construction of a great temple to Kyril.

Celia had always had a penchant and a talent for gathering and assessing information.  She developed a formidable cadre of followers and funded information gathering throughout the Kingdom and the Kingdoms around it.  She grew an intelligence service that rivalled and, eventually, exceeded that of the King himself.  Following Carolus’ lead in Archesia, she then made herself indispensable to King William. 

Every scrap of information she received was passed back to him.  She gave him information that he both desired and needed for the expansion of Bayonnar.

Three years after the Han war, Bayonnar directed all its naval resources to wiping out the pirates that had been raiding along the Kingdom’s western coasts.  Celia produced incontrovertible proof that the government of the Kingdom of Ivo had financed their raids.  She also provided the King with a comprehensive plan for invading Ivo and listed a number of officials and nobles who would support the King during and after any military action.  The war that followed was short and completely successful.  Ivo joined Archesia and Gavin in the growing Empire of Bayonnar.

Celia aided the King in similar ways with the annexation of Torp and Drogo over the next five years.  In addition to being High Priest of Kyril, Celia was made Grand Duchess of Torp with the rights and powers of a queen in that land.

That was not enough for Celia, though.  She was determined to increase her influence and the penetration of Kyril’s message in any way she could.  Her opportunity came almost ten years later – when Prince Erneis converted publicly to the worship of Kyril. 

The Prince had lived a dissolute life embracing every perversion and indulgence conceivable.  In his fortieth year, the lifestyle proved too much for his body.  He collapsed and no one was able to revive him.  The greatest rune masters tried their runes and the healers of Illana called upon the goddess’ powers but to no avail. 

Finally, Celia went to the King and offered Kyril’s healing powers.  Celia sat with the dying Prince for three days praying over him.  When the Prince awoke – seemingly fully recovered in both body and mind – a feastday was called in Kyril’s honour.

Not only was the prince cured, but his dissolute passions had seemingly been removed.  He embraced and publicly advocated a life of simplicity and discipline.  His public conversion to Kyril came a week later.

When Erneis succeeded to the throne several years later, he remained steadfastly true to Kyril.  Celia became his most trusted and ever-present confident and councillor.  Temples to Kyril were built and dedicated in all the cities and towns of the empire. 

Within two decades of Fortitude’s coronation in Archesia, Celia was confidently able to declare that more than fifteen million voices were raised daily to Kyril’s name. 

***

Willim assisted Celia greatly in the early days after Fortitude’s coronation; however, he was unable to keep the darkness growing inside him at bay for long.  His half-wâhlkind half-dimensional hunter makeup meant he continued to feel less and less affinity for humans and their affairs.  He toyed with worship of Kyril for some years but that came to feel trivial and insubstantial compared with the powers burning and growing inside of him.

Celia was forced to drive him from the Temple of Kyril three years after the taking of Archesia when she found he had assembled his own army of undead servants and was using them for increasingly violent and amoral ends.  The banishment was a relief to him as it permitted him to pursue his destiny without constraint.

He turned from Kyril to the worship of Merrin.  Merrin, by this time, had become a powerful god feared and respected by all sane people and worshipped by more than a few of the insane.  Her creed of madness, death and chaos resonated strongly with the growing strength of his dimensional hunter half and for some time he served as her paladin – aimlessly travelling the land, spreading tales of Merrin’s madness and striking fear into all he met.

William departed this world a year to the day after Sang’s heroic end.  The exact manner of his departure from this world is not clear, but the accounts agree that his last day was bloody.  It is said that he went mad in an insignificant town inside the Kingdom of Odo.  Using his black enchanted blade he slew every living thing there and then proceeded to destroy buildings, trees and even the rocks lining the roads.

One survivor said that she saw his physical body fall away leaving a creature of flat surfaces and impossible alien speed.  This witness said that a hole opened in the air and the sound of thousands of unnatural howls emerged from it.  She said that the creature that had replaced William howled back in the same manner then sped through the hole and was gone. 

Another survivor said that a strange half-man half-dog appeared and began to play with what was left of William.  A flat square of light appeared and William chased this half-dog half-man creature through it. 

Whatever the truth, William was never seen again.

***

Of all Fortitude’s companions, the most unexpected ending was reserved for Aidan and Nan. 

Nan worked closely with Celia and went on many expeditions in Kyril’s name.  However, she returned regularly to Archesia to visit Fortitude and to issue various decrees to the goblins while accepting their shiny tributes.

Aidan saw much of her during those times as he assumed increasing responsibility for the growing goblin nation in the mountains.  For some years, his life was dissolute and depraved.  He drank hard, argued, partied and looted with the goblins. 

It was near his thirty-seventh birthday that Aidan’s body finally collapsed on him – starting with the liver.  He was brought back unconscious to a human settlement in Gavin on the shoulders of dozens of drunken singing goblins.  There, he was placed in a room of an inn where a village priest tended to him.

Nan found him in this condition a week later on one of her periodic visits.  Something about his piteous state and pathetic expression must have touched her, for she delayed in that place two long months and slowly nursed Aidan back to some semblance of health.

The ending of Nan’s curse, combined with Aidan’s general weakness and their shared time together created an unexpected bond.  Nan became an anchor to Aidan and a source of great comfort.  In turn, Nan found to her surprise that Aidan was tolerable, even enjoyable company when sober.

Fortitude married them later that year in the presence of several hundred thousand cheering goblins.  Aidan washed up well for the wedding and, by that time, had been sober nearly a year.  He was mellow, polite, and much of his old bluster and appalling insensitivity had faded.  Fortitude was overcome by some strange mood at that time and made Aidan and Nan, Duke and Duchess of Nordphalia.  He granted them that city and its surrounding lands for as long as they and their descendants should hold it.

Nan surprised everyone by becoming a wise and tolerant ruler.  Under her hands Nordphalia became a great estate and Aidan became something of a decent human being.  Whenever the spark of the old Aidan would return to his eyes and he would eye a tankard of ale a little too fondly, or he would fondle his mace with just a little too much belligerence, she would abuse him roundly and send him on some menial chore.  “Yes dear,” he would say meekly and scurry off to do as she bade.

He and Nan had three strapping sons and later, fifteen grandchildren.  Aidan grew fat and complacent as the years passed while Nan developed wisdom and restraint.  They both lived to a ripe old age and, of them, it can truly be said, they lived happily ever after.

***

Over the many years after their great adventure those members of the group that could, met at least once each year in Saxonburg to recall old times and to rekindle the memories of deeds and faces long gone. 

Sang never joined them but he wrote to Fortitude regularly and sent letters with his thoughts and genuine best wishes.  William also ceased visiting them after his banishment from the temple.  The others, however, continued to meet, talk and reminisce. 

Merrin would invariably appear with the dog-man in the middle of the dining table and amuse and appal those present with accounts of her deeds as goddess of madness and chaos over the preceding year. 

Those were the best of times for Fortitude and he looked forward to those gatherings.  He would sit there with his arm around his beloved Adela and a glass of wine in his other hand beaming fondly at his dearest friends.  Their children would run and play with the dog-man or listen at their feet as Fortitude and his companions reminisced and gossiped about times long gone.

“We’re older,” Fortitude would say.  “But we’re still who we used to be.  Who would have ever believed we’d be here today.  All those years ago…” 

He would then hold the hand of Adela for the rest of the night as the conversation flowed around him – wistfully recalling the simple days when a simple blacksmith’s son met his best and most trusted friends as a reserve sergeant in the Baronial army of Wintershall.

The coronation was a splendid and archaic affair.  By ancient tradition, it started with a procession from the great southern gate to the city and wound up through the wide streets to the Great Hall of the People below the palace. 

Fortitude had not heard anything of Merrin since the day of the assembly a week ago, but knowing her as he did; he doubted that she would miss this ceremony.  Despite the havoc that he expected from Merrin’s eventual appearance, he was in a buoyant good mood.  This was mostly due to the presence of Adela standing at his side.  The coronation seemed somehow less important than the fact that this was the day of their wedding and he found himself repeatedly smiling down at her.

With a triumphal blare of trumpets, the procession started forward.  A thousand Lunar guards led the procession and as many followed behind.  Every uniform had been cleaned and pressed and every button and weapon gleamed.  They marched with pride as they led their new King and protector to his coronation.

The thousand notables who had acclaimed Fortitude King at the grand assembly marched next in the column.  They wore the colours of their various offices, guilds and estates in splendid mass of coloured silks, opulent furs and rich metals.

Fortitude followed them with Adela at his side.  King William of Bayonnar marched directly behind them, followed by Fortitude’s other companions.  Four hundred of King William’s personal guard and retinue followed behind them. 

By Fortitude’s calculation, the mile long march to the Great Hall of the People would be completed before the last columns of Lunar troops set out. 

The procession moved slowly through the city.  Cheering joyful people lined every inch of the way.  They were crammed into every bit of roadway, footpath, window and balcony.  Flowers rained down on the procession and hundreds of voices called out their blessings and good wishes to Fortitude and his bride as they passed by.

Fortitude was astonished and humbled by the good will he saw on every face.  Rapturous crowds chanted his name in places and he saw hope and approval everywhere he looked.

Fortitude sneaked more than one glance at Adela as they ascended the hill.  She looked radiant and joyful and was clearly revelling in the occasion.

At length, the procession reached the Great Hall and wound into the candlelit chamber beyond.  A choir of several hundred voices was singing some triumphal hymn of praise as they entered and a gigantic instrument sitting at one side accompanied their voices. 

Adela identified it to Fortitude in a low whisper.  “It’s a pipe organ,” she said.

It was a remarkable instrument and the sight of it being worked distracted Fortitude long enough that he temporarily forgot his nervousness.  The huge wooden case was filled with long pipes that had been intricately painted with golden whorls and twists.  Huge levers were spread around the outside of the organ case and priests from the order of Grism could be seen – two to a lever – leaping up and down, pumping the wooden shafts up and down frenetically.  Another priest was at a huge console bashing down wide keys with his fists.  Each time he hit a key, a huge set of notes would ring out covering two or three octaves and forming entire chords.  The organ and the choir suddenly made everything seem ethereal and unworldly.

Fortitude and Adela were led to the double throne on the dais at the front of the hall.  All the high priests and great nobles of Archesia stood there in a circle around the throne. 

On a table to one side a golden sword and crown sat on a cushion of blue velvet.  Fortitude gasped as he saw them for the first time.  For about the tenth time that day the whole affair suddenly became unreal and something that was happening to someone else.

Nevertheless, he kept his legs moving.  Carolus led him and Adela to the thrones where they each took a seat.

King William stopped in front of the thrones and nodded regally to Fortitude and Adela in turn.  He then turned to the mass of people and cleared his throat ready to speak. 

Before he could say anything, however, the air shimmered and Merrin appeared.  Her dress was now blood-red and was throbbing and twisting slightly.

“Oh thank dread Kha’ill, I made it!”  She stared anxiously at Fortitude.  “Can I still be a bridesmaid?”  She strode over to where Fortitude was seated leaving a long thick trail of bubbling blood on the floor behind her.

Those nearby cried out in alarm and disgust.  Fortitude glanced at Adela and found her edging away fearfully.  He tried to imagine how it would look with Merrin standing next to Adela during the service and formed the unpleasant notion that Adela had a good chance of ending up insane, devoured or some combination of the two. 

An idea came to him and he turned to Merrin.  “Say Merrin,” he said.  “Rather than just being a bridesmaid, I’ve got a more fitting role for you,” he said.  “As your high priest, I would be honoured if you would carry out the service to marry us.”

Merrin’s eyes bulged rapturously.  “Beastlord, I would be so honoured.” 

She paused and focussed down on the dress for a second.  It suddenly turned black and began changing shape.  Within seconds, it held the rough form of a huge black robe with a towering black hat.  Tendrils continued to twist and writhe, but now they formed a collar around her neck. 

Merrin peered down critically at the dress then looked up at Fortitude.  “What do you think?” she said.  “Does this look like the kind of thing a marriage celebrant would wear?”

Fortitude made some noncommittal noise and placed Merrin to one side for a moment.  He then turned and nodded at the King. 

The King darted a wondering look at Merrin then stepped forward and lifted the golden sword from the pillow.  He then turned to face the congregation and spoke so he could be heard throughout the hall.  “I, William the Sixth, King of Bayonnar, Routh and the Khandahey Islands, Protector of Archesia and Gavin, and Defender of the Faiths, do stand here today in the sight of all the gods to put the traditional questions to Fortitude, Prince of Archesia.” 

Fortitude stood.

“Do you swear to defend Archesia as its rightful King for as long as you shall live?  Do you swear to uphold the laws and to respect the rights of all those who live in Archesia?  Will you use this sword to defend the weak, to maintain the law and to protect Archesia?”

“I will,” Fortitude replied.

The King reversed the sword and gave it to Fortitude hilt first.  “Then take this sword, the sacred blade of Aachen and use it for Archesia’s good.”  Fortitude took it and bound it to his side.

The King them picked up the crown from the blue cushion and spoke again.  “Do you swear to rule wisely, with compassion and honour and for the good of all Archesians?  Will you use the divine office of King to bring order, prosperity and dignity to all Archesia?”

“I will,” Fortitude said firmly.

The King placed the crown on Fortitude’s brow.  “Then I proclaim you King Fortitude the First, sovereign lord of Archesia and Gavin.”  He turned and stared at the people.  “Behold your King.”

The hall erupted in cheers and applause.  Over the acclamation, the choir and organ began again.  Fortitude lifted a hand to acknowledge the people.  He felt overwhelmed and humbled again.

At length the people quietened and the choir finished.  The King walked over to where Merrin was standing and bowed to her.  “They’re all yours,” he said.

Merrin’s eyes lit up and she glided forward and stopped in front of Fortitude and Adela.

“Right,” she said.  She cleared her throat and then began to speak.  Her voice was oddly amplified and insane harmonics and a distant cacophony of gibbering voices echoed her words in a mad counterpart.  “Marriage is a futile illusory state,” she started.  “Based on blind trust, wishful thinking and a strange abuse of property laws.  It is a state where insignificant little mortals place their petty lives in each other’s hands in the hope that they will have someone to care for them when they become drooling imbeciles as a result of old age or some visitation from the daemon sultan Az’aal.”

There was absolute silence in the great chamber.  Merrin beamed happily at Fortitude and the ashen faced Adela.  She then stared out into the chamber and opened her arms wide to the mass of people.  “Is there anyone here who knows of any reason why these two people should not be married?”  Her face grew dark and her dress began to flail menacingly.  “Go on,” she said.  “Anyone?  Speak now and I’ll have you dissolved by slugguths.”

Funnily enough, there were no objections so Merrin turned back to Fortitude.  “Very well, I shall now put a number of questions to you so you can declare your intentions to Adela.”  She glanced around at the mass of people gathered around and her voice lifted slightly.  “I do so in the sight of all you gathered here, including the four dimensional shamblers, both abysmal demons and the elder god currently hanging over this city.”

There were moans and cries of horror from out in the hall.  Merrin visibly suppressed a smirk.  “Well Beastlord,” she said.  “Will you have this sack of mortal meat known as Adela?  Will you be infatuated with her for six months or so, then pretend thereafter?  Will you then breed repeatedly to continue the illusion of love throughout the next twenty years or so?”

Fortitude looked rather taken aback by this line of questioning but he rallied fast.  He turned so he was facing Adela and spoke loud enough for the entire chamber to hear.  “If you mean, goddess Merrin…” he began.  “That I will take Adela as my wife, love her, cherish and care for her all my days, then I swear that I will, with all my heart.”

Merrin rolled her eyes and stared at Fortitude disapprovingly.  Nevertheless, she turned to look at Adela.  “Very well then.  Adela,” she said.  “Will you take the Beastlord?  Throughout all your life, will you keep up the pretence that he is smarter, more sensitive and more vigorous than he really is?  Will you put up with his running with the wild wolves and leaving unnatural amounts of grey hair around the bathtub in his later years?  Will you accept his duty as my high priest and put up with visitations from the occasional chaos god, daemon prince and amorphous blob?”

Adela shuddered but took her lead from Fortitude.  She spoke loudly and clearly.  “If you mean, goddess, that I will take Fortitude as my husband to love, cherish and care for, then I swear that I will – with all my heart.”

Merrin frowned between Adela and Fortitude.  “I really don’t think you both understand the insignificance and hopelessness of all this,” she began, then sighed and gave up.  “I think I’ll just skip to the end.”

She turned to face the appalled and thoroughly disconcerted congregation.  “I declare this couple married,” she said.  She made a flourishing gesture.  “Behold the new husband and wife.  I give you the Beastlord and Adela – Your new Priest-King and Queen.”

Slowly but with increasing enthusiasm the applause began.

The dinner that night took place in a reception hall below the royal chambers.  Fortitude was dressed in the royal colours of Archesia and he sat beside the King at one end of a long banqueting table. 

Adela sat in the first place around the table to Fortitude’s right.  She was wearing a sumptuous blue and scarlet gown of Han silk.  To Fortitude she seemed impossibly beautiful. 

Seated around the rest of the table were the rest of Fortitude’s companions.  With them were Carolus, Martyn Darkling and ten of the King’s personal retinue.

The King was in a garrulous good humour.  Much of the conversation focussed on how the new empire would work and how it would grow in future with the support of Archesia and Gavin.

Fortitude listened to the King’s ideas and plans.  Seated in this place, with Adela to his right and with a glass of particularly fine wine under his belt, the plans seemed achievable and even glorious.  He found himself nodding strongly and lifting his glass more than once to the King’s good health and glorious future.

Conversation was bright and good-natured and everyone was relaxed and joyous at what felt like a fine ending to what had been a most remarkable series of adventures.  It was almost with regret that silence fell when the King rose from his seat and lifted his glass for silence.  When he spoke, his tone was light but full of vigour. 

“My friends,” he said.  “Your deeds speak more than my words ever will.  I will therefore not belittle them by attempting to recount them.  I’m sure that historians more eloquent than I will make a much better fist of it.  I will, however, give you my heartfelt thanks.  The Kingdom has become an empire and, as a result of you and your efforts, we have a good chance at lasting peace with the Han for many long decades to come.”

There was loud and slightly drunken cheering at this.  The King waited for silence then resumed.  “It is with this in mind that I want to confirm or announce a number of matters.”  This got everyone’s attention and they became quieter and more attentive.  “I know that Prince Fortitude will have his own offices and rewards for all of you but there are some of you that I wish to specially single out,” the King said.  He gestured first at Carolus.  “I hear that you will be Chancellor of Archesia, and that your new church will have its high temple here.”  Carolus gave a smile that indicated no small measure of satisfaction as he inclined his head to the King.

The King turned his attention to Martyn Darkling.  “And you sir,” he said.  “I know from my discussions with Fortitude and Carolus that you have given much wise advice and support to this campaign.  I understand that you will be First Councillor of Gavin and that your people will be joining you there to create a new church to the Dark Lady.”

Martyn turned apologetically to Fortitude.  “Yes, it is true,” he admitted.  “I had meant to tell you personally, highness, but you have been away the last two days attending to the goblins.”

Fortitude rose and warmly shook Martyn’s hand.  “I’m so pleased.”

The King waited for Fortitude to resume his seat then continued.  “As for you Fortitude, you will be King here in Archesia and I and my house will protect you and your kin for as long as the Empire of Bayonnar prevails.” 

Fortitude nodded sombrely.  He was mindful of what the King had done for him and of his promises.  He intended to be true to his word.

The King then looked around at the rest of Fortitude’s companions.  “As for the rest of you,” he said.  “I will leave your new lord to provide for you.  There are just three awards that I must make to settle previous debts.”  He turned to Dunstan.  “My Lord Dunstan,” he said.  “Your father is Margrave – a title of some ambiguity and unclear pedigree.  I declare that when you succeed to the seat of Skenfrith you and your line will be Earls from that time and forever more.”

This good fortune delighted Dunstan and he bowed almost to the floor.  “You honour me, sire,” he said warmly.  “I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

The King then turned to Celia.  “And you, Lady Celia.” 

Celia inclined her head gracefully. 

“You and I have talked this afternoon about how the temple of Kyril might aid us in maintaining and growing our empire.”  This caused a stir as everyone stared at Celia.  The King ignored them and continued.  “In return for past and future services, and subject to the approval of the Baron of Winterslow, I confer upon you the lands that were held by the Dierdrakin and the Lunars in the north of Winterslow including that mountain wherein your God Kyril does reside – now and in perpetuity.  This will take effect once the Lunars and Dierdrakin have shifted south to Archesia and Gavin.”  He paused and a smile flickered over his face.  “Lady Celia,” he said.  “I look forward to our working together.”

Everyone stared at Celia and wondered exactly what deal it was that she had made.

The King’s gaze fell on Nan.  “And you lady Nanya,” he said solemnly.  “You have delivered the Goblins to me at great personal cost.”  He paused and stared at her thoughtfully for a long moment.  “Tell me Nanya,” he said finally.  “Will you continue to direct the goblins for me?”

Nan froze and tried to think of some way out of answering the question.  “Umm,” she said.

The King pursed his lips nonchalantly.  “Well Nanya?” he said.  “Will you continue to ensure the goblins exist as a force that can serve me?”

Nan blanched.  “Well you see…” she began then faltered.  She stared at the King.  “Your majesty,” she said finally and a little weakly.  “I suppose I don’t mind the goblins generally, but I really really want their leader Ginty dead.”

The room suddenly fell completely silent as everyone stared at the King and waited for his response.  “Well,” he said finally.  “I suppose the question is would the goblins still support our cause if Ginty was dead?”  He looked around the table for answers.

Martyn Darkling cleared his throat at that and spoke.  “I don’t see why not, your majesty,” he said.  “They are simple creatures driven by their stomachs and vindictive nasty little natures.  The Dierdrakin have kept nearly a thousand of them in our army for centuries with nothing more than meat and drink.”

The King considered this then turned back to Nan.  “Very well,” he said.  “So long as you can control and keep the goblins for us, you can do as you wish with their prince.”

Nan’s eyes shone and she stood and bowed deeply.  “Thank you, your majesty,” she said.  “Then yes, I’ll ensure the goblins keep serving you.”

The King smiled approvingly.  “Good.  Then, in return for your past and future services I give you two things.  Henceforth you shall have the rank of Baroness and you shall hold the office of Surveyor General in the Bureau of Clerks.” 

Nan blinked and her brow furrowed.  That was a very strange office but the King lifted a hand to forestall any comment from her.  “I think that your new responsibilities in surveying and measuring different parts of my lands and estates will tie in nicely with the work that High Priestess Celia has agreed to do for me in the coming years.”  Nan’s frown lifted as she guessed just what service Celia had offered the King.

The King then grinned at the others.  “As for the rest of you.  I leave your rewards to Fortitude.  Let us return to our celebration and drink to our continued good fortune.”

Glasses were raised and emptied and conversation slowly resumed.

The King rose some time later and slipped out to talk with one of his officers.  Once he was out of the room, everyone began pestering Celia with questions about the deal she had made with the King.  “Wait and see,” was the only answer she would give.

Marcus took advantage of the King’s absence and lifted a hand for silence.  “Hey I don’t know about the rest of you,” he said gesturing down the table at Fortitude.  “But I’m not waiting for our divine overlord here to give me rewards.”  Everyone stared at him curiously and he grinned impishly back.  “Dunstan and I have done an initial estimate of what the Goblins came back with from Han.”

The room was now completely silent and Marcus paused for effect.  “The only question is, who does it all belong to?  I mean, we’ve worked and fought together now for almost a year and some of us haven’t been paid in months.”

Fortitude laughed.  “I say we split it evenly between all of us.”  He darted an inquiring gaze at Nan.  “What do you say?”

Nan shrugged.  “Fair enough,” she said.  “Just tell me how much I’m worth.”

Marcus’ grin became jubilant.  “Near as Dunstan and I can guess, we’re each better off to the tune of about three thousand golden crowns.”

There were gasps of amazement all around the table.  Three thousand gold crowns was a fortune greater than anyone had ever heard of, or imagined.  It would buy estates greater than the wealthiest duke.  Three thousand gold crowns would probably buy a good-sized town.  Each and everyone one of them was rich.

Marcus nodded and stared at Nan with a certain relish.  “Those little goblins may be a pain but they pay their way.”

Nan forced her mouth closed.  Maybe it was the wine, but she just could not muster her usual dislike for the little creatures.

***

The next day was hectic.  The goblins were due that night and the city was in an uproar as arrangements were made for their arrival.  The simultaneous preparations for the forthcoming coronation and wedding increased the chaos. 

Towards nightfall, Fortitude sought out Gordon, Brian and Doug.  He found them running around playing with scissors in Aidan’s room.  All three were bleeding freely but were giggling and whooping happily nonetheless. 

He made them put the scissors down and led them to the top of the city wall.  The rest of Fortitude’s companions were already there, waiting for him.  All two thousand of the Lunar guards were arrayed along the wall.  Everyone wore their armour and the wall bristled with crossbows and pikes.

Fortitude took advantage of the last remaining rays of sun to look out over the landscape below.  There was still no sign of the goblin horde but he could see a few isolated plumes of smoke rising to the west.  It appeared that Aidan had managed to successfully curtail the worst of the goblin excesses.

The King’s army camp was to the north.  The palisade was complete now and archers were visible standing shoulder to shoulder behind it.  It looked like the King was adequately prepared for whatever the goblins might do.

Once Fortitude was sure everything was ready, he sat down to wait.  The others sat around him and speculated idly about the future.  Quite a bit of time was spent discussing improbable schemes for spending their newfound fortunes. 

Nan sat a little off to one side.  Though she had revised her more violent opinions about the goblin race generally, she was still determined that Ginty would not survive this night. 

As the sun set, she carefully, almost obsessively, oiled and checked her short bow.  She then slowly and repeatedly checked her arrows to ensure they were straight and sharp.

***

The goblins arrived in a huge mass around the eleventh hour that night.  They spilled up and stopped just short of the city wall in a vast sea of little furry bodies.  Lanterns spaced around the city walls showed them all quite clearly.

Aidan was standing in the middle of them brandishing a large flagon of something.  He was clearly drunk and looked like he had been having a great time. 

Ginty was being carried on a litter next to Aidan.  Once the goblin horde halted, he lifted a hand and silence fell over the fields below the city.  He cleared his little throat noisily. 

“Where is the Big Goblin Princess?” he shouted imperiously up at the city wall.  “I want her trussed and brought to me now.”

Fortitude’s goal was to avoid any public action that might spark a goblin riot.  He hoped to talk Ginty into the city by himself where Nan could do what she wanted with him quietly and privately.  With this in mind he leaned over the wall and called down.

“Hello, Prince Ginty,” he cried.  He gestured back over his shoulder.  “The Big Goblin Princess awaits you inside.  Come in and I’ll show you.”

Ginty’s face narrowed suspiciously.  “No, bring her out here.  She’s mean and sneaky and might try to do me in.  Bring her out here where I can ravage her in front of all my followers.”

Fortitude cursed under his breath and opened his mouth to try another tack.  Before he could say anything though, Nan stepped up to the wall and stood below a lantern staring down at Ginty.  The bow was still in her hand, but she held it out of sight below the top of the parapet.  There was an arrow loosely notched in it.

Tens of thousands of hairy little arms whipped up and respectfully thumbed noses at Nan.  “Oooooh,” she heard from thousands of throats and a sea of voices whispered together.  “The Big Goblin Princess.”

Nan ignored them and called down maliciously to Ginty.  “Hello Ginty, you disgusting little rodent.”

Ginty’s leered back up at her.  “Yup, that’s me,” he called back proudly.  “Come down and give us me conjugals.”

Nan considered the distance between herself and Ginty with a degree of vexation.  He was probably fifty yards away and that was too far to be a certain shot.  She bared her teeth in an approximation of a smile.  “Why don’t you come up here and get me,” she called back.  “Tell your goblins to make a pyramid.”

“No, you come here,” Ginty replied.

“Tell you what,” Nan called back reasonably.  “Let’s meet half way.  You come up and I’ll come down.”

Ginty considered this then nodded.  He gestured at the mass of goblins below him and pointed at the wall.  “Make a pyramid,” he cried. 

The goblins poured forward and began forming a huge hairy pyramid that sloped all the way from the top of the wall down to where Ginty was waiting.  Ginty called up to Nan.  “Come to me, my big bald goblin.”

Nan feigned fear.  “How do I know they’ll support me?” she said indicating the mass of wriggling writhing goblins below.  “Come half way and when I see they’re supporting you, I’ll come down.”

This was good enough for Ginty.  He gave his bearers a wave and they started up the goblin pyramid.  Fifty yards became forty, then thirty then twenty. 

At twenty yards, a little moan of irrational joy escaped from Nan’s throat.  She lifted her bow in a single fluid motion and a cathartic smile appeared on her face as she pulled the arrow back.  She paused for a single ecstatic second then released.

Ginty had just enough time to lift an arm futilely when the arrow took him in the eye.  Its impact flipped him off his dais and onto to the mass of goblins below.

With cries of fear and astonishment the entire goblin pyramid collapsed.  Hundreds of goblins hit the ground and began to scatter leaving Ginty’s body twitching in the semi-darkness below.  Nan slowly and with a look of rapturous joy carefully drew another arrow and fired.  The second arrow buried itself deep in Ginty’s chest.  He convulsed once then lay still.

The mass of goblins fell silent and stared between Nan and their fallen prince in wide-eyed amazement.  The air was completely still and there was no sound at all around the wall.

Fortitude tensed unconsciously.  “Oh great Loki, no,” he moaned.  “This is going to get messy.”  Along the wall, Lunar guards readied weapons.

“Oooh,” said Gordon loudly looking most impressed.  He“She killed Ginty.”

Down below, the goblin leader Splint stared between Nan and Ginty in amazement.  “That wasn’t very nice,” he called up in a tone that suggested awed wonderment.

Brian swallowed loudly.  “It was sneaky and mean,” he affirmed back to Splint and darted an admiring look at Nan.

Doug nodded.  “She’s always been sneakier and meaner than everyone else,” he shouted down while keeping a respectful and fearful eye on Nan.

Next to Splint below, the goblin prince, Glibb frowned as he stared at Ginty’s lifeless body.  “And she likes shiny things and hurting things for no good reason,” he observed slowly.

Gordon nodded with wide-eyed admiration and called back from the top of the wall.  “Yup, she’ll kill you soon as look at her.”

There was a mass intake of breath from the goblin horde gathered around.  “Oooh,” they went as a mass.

Nan began to giggle uncontrollably.  There was a goblin examining Ginty’s body and, without even consciously deciding to do so, she notched another arrow and fired.  The little goblin jerked soundlessly as the arrow pinned him, still standing, to the ground behind.

“Ahhh,” went the goblin horde.  The entire mass unconsciously took a step backwards.

Gordon nodded.  “She’s the sneakiest, meanest, most cunning, most vicious, most nasty goblin I’ve ever seen,” he exclaimed approvingly.

Brian raised a hand.  “She should be Big Goblin Queen,” he suggested in a high pitched excited voice.

Doug nodded and stared at Brian fearfully.  “Just don’t say it to her face or she’ll kill you.”

Something snapped in Nan’s mind at that moment.  She screamed insanely and tried to throw herself at where Brian, Doug and Gordon were standing.  Marcus, William and Fortitude leapt on her and wrestled her to the ground.

“Queen, Queen, Queen,” a group of goblins began to chant down below.  The entire mass of goblins quickly picked up the chant.  “QUEEN, QUEEN, QUEEN,” they cried with fervent enthusiasm.  Glibb, Splint and Flipp were staring up at Nan with open admiration and a hint of respect and they joined the chanting as loudly as their followers.

On the wall, Nan let out a scream of incoherent rage and began flailing around.  Fortitude finally knocked her out and instructed two Lunars to bind her and carry her to her room.

Once Nan was gone from the wall, Fortitude stared down again at the chanting goblins.  “Well I’ll be damned,” he said to no one in particular.  “I think that sorts out the loyalty of the goblins.” 

He stared down at the mass of hairy bodies for several long minutes, then called down to Aidan.  “Send up Glibb, Splint and Flipp,” he called.  “I need you too, Aidan,” he added.  The three goblin leaders dutifully came forward with Aidan.  The goblins formed another pyramid long enough for their leaders to reach the top of the wall.  Fortitude also beckoned Doug, Brian and Gordon over. 

When Aidan and the six goblins were finally standing in front of him, Fortitude addressed them.  “Do you all accept Nan as your Big Goblin Queen?”

“Of course,” said Splint hastily.

“We wouldn’t dare cross her,” said Glibb nervously looking over his shoulder.

“Tell her we love her,” said Flipp with a fearful smile while offering Fortitude a burned chunk of meat.

“Good,” replied Fortitude ignoring the burned offering.  “She’s given me her first commands.”

“Ooh,” said all six goblins present.  Aidan snorted but said nothing.

Fortitude pointed at the mountains filling the night sky to the east.  “You’re to go to those mountains there,” he said.  “You will live there away from human lands where you will eat and live as you always have, but you’ll provide service to your queen when she requires it.”

Splint and Flipp nodded.  “Of course,” Glibb replied compliantly.

Fortitude winked at Aidan.  “Aidan here will be the Queen’s ambassador.  He will visit you and tell you her commands.”

Aidan grinned and stared around fondly at the little goblins.  “I’ll need beer and a lot of that peppermint flavoured liqueur,” he said.  “A whole lot of it.”

“No problems,” Fortitude replied.  “You’ll have as much as you want.”

Aidan rubbed his jaw happily.  “All right!” he exclaimed.  “And my parents never thought I’d amount to anything.”  He stared out over the wall at the mass of chanting goblins below.  “Ambassador to the goblins,” he said.  “And as much as I can drink.” 

Fortitude bit back his first reaction and turned to Gordon, Doug and Brian.  “And as for you little guys,” he said.  “You’ll be my representatives.  You’ll work for Aidan and, if you do what he says and keep him happy, you’ll get five shiny copper bits every week.”

The three goblins let out a loud ‘hurrah’ and began dancing around joyfully.

Fortitude edged over to Aidan.  “I think you should move the goblins towards the mountains now.  Follow the road and I’ll have some scouts catch up with you tomorrow to take you somewhere far away from human habitation.”

Aidan adopted what he imagined was the measured and wise air of an ambassador and nodded.  “Sure thing,” he said.  “I’ll get them going now.”

Aidan was as good as his word.  While Fortitude stood the guards down and the city returned to normality, Aidan got the mob moving.  The chant of “QUEEN, QUEEN, QUEEN,” slowly but surely shifted eastwards towards the mountains till it disappeared finally with the coming of dawn.

***

It was six days to the coronation and wedding.  Every day was full of details and every day sped by in an exhausting blur.

Nan remained in her room the first few days then emerged in a surprisingly good humour.  When Fortitude finally got her alone Nan assured him that she was quite over her hatred of the goblins. 

“Look I got Ginty, didn’t I,” she said.  “I feel much better.  As for the other goblins, they’ll do what I say now.  I’ve currently got at least three thousand golden reasons to forgive them and I suspect the King’s plans will see me get more in the years to come.  I say let them live.”

For once Nan’s attitude was light and there was a conviction to her words that suggested she meant them.  Fortitude decided she was telling the truth. 

He muttered something encouraging then departed to attend to yet another arrangement for the forthcoming ceremony.

Sited just below the palace, the Great Hall of the People was a huge building able to contain more than a thousand people at once.  It was built of stone and had hugely thick walls supporting a gigantic domed ceiling.  The interior was sumptuously decorated in scarlet and gold and the finest sculptures peered down from countless niches around the walls.

Fortitude strode into the building past a number of deferential guards and found the chamber full of a huge and rather overwhelming mass of people.  He paused inside the door as the scents of a hundred perfumes and the wax fumes of a thousand candles hit him. 

The chamber held four groups of seats facing a raised dais.  To the right of the dais was a block of more than a hundred seats for representatives of the temples.  Opposite them, on the left of the dais, were a similar number of seats for the guilds and professions.  In the middle, between the temples and the guilds, were more than three hundred seats for the nobility of Archesia.  Behind them lay a mass of additional seats for the Kingdom’s office holders.

There were fifteen seats on the dais itself.  Thirteen of them were arrayed in a semi-circle around two throne-like high-backed chairs.  One of the two thrones was empty and Fortitude’s heart leapt when he saw that the other held Adela.

Seated behind her in the other seats were Carolus and the members of the royal council.

He noticed them idly as his gaze returned to Adela.  She was dressed in a simple gown of white.  Her hair was wound up on her head and she was gazing out over the mass of people with a look of quiet confidence.  Fortitude found his heart pounding as he studied her.  She looked so beautiful and self-assured in front of all those people.

One of the members of the royal council was standing and speaking.  He was apparently responding to a question as his speech kept referring to the ‘noble questioner’.  Whatever the question had been, it sounded dull.  The answer was something to do with seigniorial duties concerning slaves lawfully taken in war in the context of Fortitude’s recent decree. 

Fortitude paused in the door to listen and to get some sense of how things were going. It was all strange to him and he was not sure what to do next. 

Adela took care of the matter for him when she saw him standing at the door.  A joyful smile played across her face and she stood, while lifting a hand in greeting.

Almost as one, a thousand faces swivelled to follow Adela’s gaze.  There was a rush of mutters and Fortitude heard many of those present draw breath.  The speaker on the dais sensed he had lost his audience and spluttered to a halt.

Carolus leapt to his feet and bowed theatrically.  As a mass, the thousand people gathered in the chamber also stood.  In a huge uneven ripple, they too bowed. 

A squad of Lunar guards were standing guard at the door and Carolus gestured at their sergeant.  The sergeant hastily formed his men up into an honour guard around Fortitude and escorted him forward and down the aisle to the dais.  The guards stopped at the base of the steps and parted so Fortitude could go on by himself.  Feeling incredibly self-conscious, Fortitude walked up the steps towards the throne and Adela.

Adela was clearly more used to public occasions than Fortitude.  She ignored the crowd and stepped forward to greet him with a hug and a smile. 

Fortitude found himself grinning down proudly at her and he forgot the crowd for a moment as he held her.  Adela then took the lead.  She stepped away and offered Fortitude her arm.  He took it gingerly and she led him back to the greater of the two thrones. 

“My Lord,” she said somewhat louder than was necessary for conversing with Fortitude alone.  “I mean highness,” she said as if recalling herself.  “In your absence, the grand assembly has agreed that you will be crowned King of Archesia.”  She winked at him and in a much lower voice added, “There is some concern but Carolus appears to have them cowed.”

Fortitude nodded stiffly.  He then swivelled in his seat and looked at Carolus.  “My Lord Carolus,” he said suddenly very aware that every eye was on him.  He was pleased to hear that his voice was steady and his tone sounded confident, almost bored.  “My apologies for being late.  The remainder of my forces have just arrived in Archesia after ravaging three hundred miles of Han territory and burning and destroying countless cities and towns.  All thirty thousand of them are marching towards the city as we speak.  Pray continue.”

Carolus rose.  “Highness, you are declared Heir Apparent and Prince of Archesia by acclaim of this assembly under ancient law and custom.  By the will of this assembly, you are to be crowned King one week hence.”

Somewhere near the back of the hall, in the seating held by the officials, applause began.  It was taken up with varying degrees of enthusiasm by the rest of the hall.  One by one, the people gathered there rose as the applause continued until all but a few were standing. 

Out of the corner of one eye, Fortitude saw Carolus pull a small notebook out of his pocket and write something down while pointedly peering at several of those who were not standing.  A few seconds later everyone was standing and the applause became noticeably louder.

Carolus stepped over to Fortitude.  “You will need to speak to them,” he said.  “You might want to reassure the nobles and temples in particular.”

Fortitude took a deep breath.  He had only ever attempted public speaking once before and he studied the mass of people before him.  All the Kingdom’s nobles, senior priests, high guildsmen and officials were there.  If he got it wrong, then every influential person there was would know it and judge him accordingly.

He took a deep breath and raised a hand for silence.  When it fell he was surprised to find he was not nervous at all.

“I thank you for the honour you have shown me,” he began.  “Though my family name is known to you I was a stranger here until three weeks ago.  In my time here I have seen nobility of spirit, passion for Archesia and self-effacing commitment to duty.  I admire and respect everything I have seen and I am honoured beyond words by the trust that you are placing on me.”

“You have seen something of me over the last three weeks.  I have made pronouncements that have not sat well with many of you and I will undoubtedly make more in the years to come.  Many of you will not understand or approve of what I’m doing, but I hope you will come to see that it will be for the goal of making a stronger Archesia that provides a better way of living for everyone.  Today I want you to understand something of me and where I will take Archesia.”

There was absolute silence as Fortitude gazed around the hall.  He felt an odd sense of confidence as he continued.  “Archesia must be strong in future.  We must never be vulnerable to the Han again and we must abandon our splendid neutrality and bind ourselves to Bayonnar.  To this end, we will build armies that will preserve our Kingdom and which will enable Archesia and Bayonnar to grow strong together.”

“Some privileges and rights will end and others will replace them.  No one here will pay more in taxes or in duties than they have in the past, but there will be changes to the social order.  Those who we call peasants, serfs or slaves will receive further rights and lands of their own.  They will be required to fight for us in future and cannot be expected to do with any willingness unless they have freedom and property of their own to defend.”

“The Theocracy of Gavin and Archesia will both be ruled by me.  There will be one King and one law for all.  The religious freedoms that the Gavinites encourage will extend to Archesia and all gods and all forms of worship will be tolerated so long as the rights of others are respected.  I venerate Merrin and serve her as high priest, but I will not require you to follow any faith other than that dictated by your own conscience.  You may choose any god – including Merrin, Grippli and Kyril.”

“I will be true to Archesia and together we will make it stronger, prosperous and better for all Archesians – noble, commoner and cleric alike.”

“I swear these things to you as Beastlord, Fortitude uls Morcar, Prince of Archesia and Gavin, Baron of Winterslow, High Priest of Merrin, Lord Wintershall, Lord Protector of Grippli, and Kyrilfriend.”

There was significant muttering around the hall throughout Fortitude’s recitation.  The guildsmen all looked relatively happy with the speech.  The clergy looked offended by Fortitude’s references to Merrin, Grippli and Kyril while the nobles looked less than enthusiastic about the proposed future relationship with Bayonnar and the new liberties and freedoms for the common people.

Nevertheless, under Carolus’ watchful eye, applause began again. 

Fortitude felt an overwhelming sense of relief that he had done all right.  Though he had not felt nervous during his speech, he found he was shaking as he faced the clapping audience.  The applause kept going and going and Fortitude found himself wanting it to finish so he could sit down again and regain his composure.

A deafening crack of noise in the middle of the hall halted the applause almost instantly.

A plane of red light appeared shimmering and twisting unnaturally in the air above the dais and Merrin suddenly appeared hanging in the air inside it.  She was slightly translucent and strange creatures could be discerned twisting and morphing horribly in space behind her.  The dog-man was faintly visible in the distant background chasing the creatures around and waving his enormous black tail with insane enthusiasm.

Merrin’s black dress seemed obscenely large now.  Its mass writhed and twisted and threw flailing streamers of darkness out in all directions.  Moans and cries of horror sounded all around the great hall.

“Beastlord!” exclaimed Merrin happily.  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Fortitude tried not to roll his eyes.  “Well I’m in the middle of the Archesian grand assembly where I’m being declared heir apparent to the throne.  Adela’s also here.”

Merrin started and looked around.  “Oh,” she said contritely.  “Oops.”  She sighed and waved at the assembled masses.  “Hello little people,” she said and turned back to Fortitude.  “I just wanted to tell you about the red moon,” she said in a whisper that still somehow resonated through every head in that chamber. 

Behind Fortitude, Carolus unconsciously stood. 

Merrin’s eyebrow suddenly lowered and she glanced between Adela and Fortitude with a dawning awareness.  A smile slowly spread over her face.  “Saaaaay, are you two going to get married?”

Fortitude found himself blushing.  “Yes,” he replied, feeling incredibly self-conscious.  “A week from now, if she agrees.  We’ll combine it with the coronation.”

He forced himself to look at Adela.  She was smiling radiantly back at him.  “Yes,” she said.

Merrin looked a little awkward and, despite hanging in air, managed to shuffle her feet.  “Err well,” she began.  “Umm…”  Despite her preternaturally pallid disposition she reddened.  “Could I be a bridesmaid?” she asked hopefully.  “Can I?  Huh?  Please?  Can I?”

Fortitude looked at Adela who was now regarded Merrin fearfully.  He leaned over to her and spoke quietly in her ear.  “It might be best if you said yes,” he said.  “Sorry, but she’s a bit touchy when she gets left out of things.”

Adela nodded dumbly and Fortitude turned back to Merrin.  “Sure thing, Merrin,” he said.

Merrin clapped her hands together in delight.  “Wonderful,” she exclaimed.  “I’d like that ever so much.”  A thought hit her.  “Oh, but I’ve got nothing to wear.”  Her brow furrowed thoughtfully.  “I’m sure I can throw something together.”  She paused and stared at Adela uncertainly.  “What colour will you be wearing?”  She smiled hopefully.  “Black?”  She pointed down at her own twisting outfit.  “You could borrow my wedding dress.”  The dress flailed hopefully and formed a long sinuous train and veil.  Two tentacles formed a little black love heart over Merrin’s head that pulsed and throbbed in a very unnatural way.

Adela chose that moment to faint away.  Fortitude made sure that she was comfortable then turned back to Merrin.  He was aware of the disbelieving and awed stares of the crowd. 

“Why don’t we talk about this later, Merrin,” he said pointedly.  “You remember our little chat about what you can and can’t do around others?”

“Sorry Beastlord,” Merrin said looking stricken.  Her eyes rolled up as she recalled the conversation in question.  “I mustn’t summon anything bigger than a city.  I mustn’t show people things that will destroy their sanity and I must always count to ten before contacting anything that might destroy the world.”

“Close enough, Merrin,” he said.  “Now what was it that you wanted to tell me about the red moon?”

“I just wanted to say that the red moon is no longer falling.  It will remain at its current distance from the world forever.”

Carolus exhaled loudly behind Fortitude. 

“Excellent work, Merrin,” Fortitude declared.  “And were there any problems?”

Merrin started guiltily.  “No, why?”

“Merrin, what happened?” Fortitude demanded.  “Tell me!”

Merrin twisted awkwardly and stared up at the ceiling.  “Weeellll,” she began.  “Summers might be a little longer or shorter in future.  I’m not quite sure.”  She coughed awkwardly.  “Oh and the length of days might have changed along with the number of days in each year.”

“What?” Fortitude exclaimed.  “Why, I mean how…?”

“I had to push on something to get the moon to stop falling,” Merrin replied earnestly.  “The world was the nearest thing.”

Fortitude was suddenly conscious of the rest of the room and thousands of eyes focussed on him.  He bit back his first response and settled for something more moderate.

“I see,” he said.  “Well why don’t we talk about that later.  You should return back to your dwelling place and I’ll contact you later.”

“Yes Beastlord,” said Merrin looking vastly relieved that she had been spared a scolding.  She faded away and was gone.

***

The grand assembly ended abruptly and with great commotion at that point.  Fortitude ignored the departing notables and instead knelt beside Adela who was sitting up again.

“My lady, may I help you to your chambers.”

Adela stared into his eyes and nodded gratefully.  “Thank you, my lord,” she said.  She reddened a little.  “I am pleased to see you again, Fortitude.”

Fortitude escorted Adela back to the castle and to her new rooms.  Perhaps she leaned on him a little more than was really necessary, and perhaps he was a little too solicitous in helping support her on that journey. 

After instructing servants to prepare for dinner with the King that night, Fortitude returned to Adela’s side where he spent a delightful day catching up on her news.

He told her of all his adventures since they had last seen each other, while she informed him of the goings on back in Wintershall.  Among her other news, she informed him that the first snows of winter had come to Wintershall.

This news caused Fortitude to start and fall silent.

“What’s wrong?” Adela inquired.

“It’s been a year,” he replied wonderingly.

“A year?”

Fortitude stared around at the sumptuous chamber and his gaze became distant.  “The first snows had only just come last year when I returned to Wintershall as a sergeant in the Baron’s reserve.  It’s been a year since I met Sang, Merrin, Celia, and the others.  What a year it’s been…”

And that started a whole new line of conversation.

The group reached the border, saddle-sore and weary early that afternoon.  The border post was a single-storied stone structure placed next to a roadway.  The land both sides of the border comprised rolling fields and grassland.  There was no discernible difference between Han and Archesia at this place – apart from the huge pillars of smoke rising from countless points on the horizon on the Han side of the border.

Fortitude stared at the smoke with some misgiving.  It suggested there were still a lot of goblins out there and the nearest fires were only five miles away.  “I wonder how long before they get here,” he mused aloud.

Celia answered.  “I suspect they’re travelling by night and hiding up and sleeping off their excesses during the day.  I think we’ll see them a few hours after dark tonight.”

Fortitude nodded.  Celia’s estimate sounded about right.  “Well I suppose we should send someone to bring them to us.”

“I’ll go,” Nan volunteered.

“No,” Fortitude replied bluntly.  He turned to Aidan.  “Would you mind going?”

Aidan grinned happily and unconsciously reached for his sword.  “Sure thing,” he said.  “Leave it to me.  I’ll get the little guys here.”  With a look that suggested there might be some mischief first, he dropped his pack and opened it.  Doug, Gordon and Brian scampered out and grew excited when they heard where they were going.  Aidan removed a few light weapons along with a number of flasks of oil and alcohol.  He then gave everyone a cheery wave and strode off towards the largest of the smoke columns.  The three goblins skipped merrily along behind him.

***

Shortly after nightfall, the group saw the glows of huge fires appear at various points inside Han.  A distant singing began as if from tens of thousands of tiny little drunken throats.  There were occasional explosions in the night and the distant sounds of screams. 

Hours passed and the singing grew louder and more boisterous.  The little voices grew less and less tuneful as time passed and one part of the goblin horde began singing several beats behind another part.

The first goblins appeared with Aidan near midnight.  Their little bellies were distended and they were clearly drunk.  They were carrying shapeless chunks of burned meat and their little bodies were bejewelled with impressively fine necklaces, rings, earrings and tiaras.  Tucked under makeshift belts were knuckle-dusters, bludgeons, knives and other improvised weapons.  They all looked deliriously happy and swarmed around the group with a mindless bonhomie.

Marcus and Dunstan stared at the wealth arrayed on the goblins in a kind of astonished disbelief.  They appointed themselves representatives of the Big Goblin Princess and circulated around the goblins collecting the shining tributes on her behalf.  Very quickly, they built up a huge pile of jewellery and precious items. 

Marcus had never seen or imagined that so much wealth could exist in one place and his heart sang as he bundled up the precious items ready for transporting.

As each group of goblins was relieved of its loot, Aidan had them settle down on the grasslands inside the border.  They did as he commanded and soon there were thousands in every direction.  Everywhere the group looked there were drunken brawls, arguments and feasts taking place.  Little goblins were loudly boasting about their exploits and more were passing out drunkenly every minute.

Gordon, Brian and Doug joined them in quaffing liquid from various bottles and in listening to tales of improbable violence, drunkenness, and depravity. 

Fortitude stared at this multitude in disbelief and tried to work out what he was going to do with these little creatures.  Astonishingly it appeared that most of the goblins had survived the rampage across three hundred miles of Han countryside.

It was still several hours before dawn when the final goblins staggered in.  The four goblin leaders were with them and they stopped in front of Fortitude. 

All around, those goblins that had not yet passed out staggered into a huge circle and stared at their leaders.

All four of the goblin leaders had bloodshot eyes and hugely distended bellies.  Ginty grinned and casually swiped his nose in Fortitude’s general direction. 

“Not bad,” he said.  “That was fun.”  He belched loudly and scratched his belly.  “Now where’s the Big Goblin Princess?”  He licked his lips.  “I’m ready for a night of wild goblin sex.” 

Nan stepped forward with an odd look on her face and stopped staring down at Ginty.  “Hello my darling,” she said between gritted teeth.  As she spoke she surreptitiously broke a small vial of particularly potent poison in one of her gauntlets and smeared the viscous liquid over both palms.  

All around there was the sound of air being displaced and fur rustling as tens of thousands of little goblins lifted their hands and thumbed noses at their venerated princess.  Nan’s right eye appeared to twitch but it might just have been a trick of the light caused by the flicker of countless fires in the distance.

Fortitude lifted a cautioning hand but Nan muttered for him not to worry.  Fortitude watched her carefully – ready to intervene if she tried anything.

“Ahh,” said Ginty happily.  “So my little love toy, are you ready to get naked and trussed again?”

“Perhaps,” Nan replied.  “But first, come and give me a big hug.”  She got down on her knees and opened her arms to him.  Ginty sprang forward and pushed his muzzle towards her.

Nan held him away and rubbed her poison-coated hands over as much of his body as she could manage.  He began to pant and whimper in a particularly disgusting way.  When Nan was sure that all the poison had been transferred to him, she pushed him away. 

“That’s enough now Ginty my love,” she said.  She gestured around at the thousands of little beady eyes staring enviously at them from out in the darkness.  “Later…” she said.  “When we’re alone.”

A look of extraordinary frustration crossed Ginty’s face but he nodded.  “Yeah awl-right,” he allowed unhappily. 

Nan watched Ginty carefully and was dismayed to see that the poison was having no effect.  She began to suspect that the little rodent was somehow immune to it.  That left her only one option she decided and she gestured back over her shoulder. 

“I’m going to go and freshen up,” she said and slipped away. 

Two minutes later Nan was on horseback and making her way, cursing and ranting, back towards Saxonburg by the light of the moon. 

***

Fortitude only realised that Nan had fled an hour later.  He had been trying to stop goblins burning and looting a village just inside the border when Ginty strode up to him and squinted at him through his little bloodshot eyes. 

“Where’s the big goblin princess,” he demanded.  “Where’s my little squelchy welchy bouncy sex thing?”

“Umm, I’m not sure,” Fortitude admitted, though a number of ideas did suggest themselves.

Ginty glared at him.  “Some of my little goblins said she was riding a horse off down the road that way,” he said, pointing towards Saxonburg.

“Oh?” said Fortitude innocently. 

Ginty nodded emphatically.  “I said we should have bound and gagged her,” he said.  “Now I’m going to have to follow.”

Fortitude was still not sure what he wanted to do with the goblins, but having them follow Nan to Saxonburg was definitely not his preferred option.  “That’s not a good idea…” he began.

Ginty shook his head firmly.  “Nope,” he said.  “I’m off – with all me little friends.”  From out in the darkness there was a huge ragged cheer from every goblin in earshot.

Fortitude thought fast.  He could not think of any way of stopping the goblins, which meant his only choice was to manage them.  “Say Ginty,” he started.  “How about you stop your goblins looting and burning and I’ll have Aidan lead you to where she’s waiting.  I’ll also have food and drink laid on if you don’t destroy anything.”

Ginty stared at Fortitude suspiciously.  “How do I know the Big Goblin Princess will be there when I get there?”

“Because both I and my King need you Ginty.  We need you and all your little goblins to loot and burn and steal in future.”

Ginty looked satisfied at this.  “Awlright,” he said.  “I’ve heard all about Uncle Aidan from Doug, Brian and Gordon.  He’s one of us; we’ll follow him.”

Fortitude only stopped himself laughing by biting the inside of his cheek.

***

The arrangements were quickly put in place.  Aidan very happily accepted responsibility for the goblin horde while the others readied their horses. 

Marcus and Dunstan purchased eight horses from a nearby village and piled them high with bundles of the ‘shiny things’ that the goblins had produced for Nan.  The laden horses were tethered behind the other horses and Marcus and Dunstan both positioned themselves in the column so that they could watch the loads on the horses at all times.

With these arrangements made, the group started after Nan just as the first light of morning appeared on the horizon. 

As the group rode past each farmhouse and through each village, they called out warnings telling people to lock their doors and to hide from the approaching goblins. 

The sky was an odd red that morning and strange cloud formations hung on the northern and southern skylines.  Celia shook her head as she regarded the sky.  “Say,” she called finally over the thunder of hooves on the roadway.  “Is it my imagination or is the sun a little further north this morning.”

No one was able to intelligently reply to this observation and the group pressed on as fast as they could. 

***

The group reached Saxonburg mid-afternoon and found a huge mass of men and materials spread over the fields to the north of the city.  Hundreds of standards fluttered from poles over a growing city of tents.  Visible over the centre of that camp was the huge royal standard of Bayonnar. 

The army looked like it had only arrived that day.  Palisades were still being thrown up and latrines were still being excavated on the downwind side of the camp.

Fortitude did not hesitate.  He directed the others to return to the city then spurred his horse towards the camp.  When he reached the growing palisade he stopped before a knot of perimeter guards and introduced himself.

The guards greeted him with low bows and formal salutes and led him through the camp directly to where the royal standard was flying. 

He was shown into the same large white tent he had stood in all those months ago, when he was a mere Acting Reserve Sergeant in Winterslow.  The King was seated in a high-backed wooden chair opposite the entrance and more than forty high nobles and senior officers were gathered around the edges of the tent. 

The King was reading from a parchment while a captain stood in front of him outlining a series of stores and supply problems at some length.  There was a ripple of excitement across the tent as Fortitude entered and this caused the King to look up.  He leapt out of his chair and strode past the now silent captain to Fortitude.  “My lord, Fortitude!” he exclaimed.  “I am delighted to see you again.”

Fortitude was conscious that every eye in the tent was on him as he replied.  “Thank you, sire,” he replied.  “Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you, but I had to ride to meet the goblins.”

“They made it?” the King asked in disbelief.  “Three hundred miles from the city of Tang and they made it?”  He shook his head.  “How many?  How did they look?”

“There seem to be about as many as set out, your majesty.  They appear to have feasted well, drunk to excess and exercised their nasty destructive natures all the way to the border.”

The King’s eyes positively sparkled.  “Well I never.”  He chortled in delight.  “They are amazing little creatures are they not?”

Amazing was not a term that Fortitude would have chosen; nevertheless, he nodded politely.  “Yes sire, truly…  They will be here probably tomorrow night.  I would recommend that you have a palisade and strong guard around your camp by then.”

The King nodded and the flicker of amusement faded from his eyes.  “I saw the aftermath of what they did to the Fortress of Routh.  I’ll do as you suggest.”  He stopped and gestured towards the city.  “But I’m surprised to see you here Fortitude.  The Archesian grand assembly is in session even as we speak.  I’ve had the Lady Adela escorted to your new castle and she is undoubtedly settling in, ordering the servants about and appraising the royal silverware even as we speak.” 

His eyes crinkled in amusement.  “You should return to the castle and ensure that the assembly endorses you as planned.”  He paused.  “Perhaps tonight we could meet and discuss your recent successes and glorious future in more detail.”

“Yes sire,” replied Fortitude.  “Perhaps you would join me for dinner?”

“I would be delighted.”

They agreed upon a time and then Fortitude excused himself.  He had forgotten that the grand assembly was happening this day.  He strode from the tent and leapt on to his horse.  A second later he was thundering towards the nearby city gate.

The next two days were busy ones as Fortitude prepared for the arrival of the King and his betrothed.  He had two towers in the royal castle set aside for his guests and servants worked tirelessly preparing them.

As these preparations were being made, nobles began drifting into Saxonburg from all around Archesia in readiness for the grand assembly.  In a remarkably short period, every inn, spare bedroom and vacant house in the city was filled to overflowing by more than six hundred nobles, guildsmen and high-ranking clerics.  Trouble began immediately and Fortitude had Carolus deploy more than a thousand Lunars through the city streets to maintain order.

Fights were broken up quickly and more than one noble son languished in the palace dungeons on charges ranging from disturbing the peace through to treason.  Fortitude reviewed the charges on each new arrest and grudgingly approved them. 

Carolus was being most effective in keeping the peace, he decided.  The man really did seem to be working in Fortitude’s best interests.

***

On the sixteenth day after the fall of Saxonburg, a breathless messenger wearing the uniform of an Archesian guardsman interrupted Fortitude and his companions while they were at breakfast.  “My lord,” he said while standing to attention.

Fortitude gestured for the man to stand at ease.  “Report,” he commanded.

“My lord, for the last three days the guard posts on the border between Archesia and Han have reported pillars of smoke moving towards them out of Han.  When the wind is favourable, we have received word of distant singing as if from thousands of children.  Border patrols report thousands upon thousands of Han fleeing from the west.”  The man paused.  “My lord, the border commander reports that something is approaching.  He does not know what it is, but it looks bad.”

“Well I’ll be…” Fortitude exclaimed.

“Yay!” cried Aidan.  “The little fellows made it!”

Nan glowered at him.  “Good grief, the little bastards really are indestructible.”

Celia spoke.  “We’d better go meet them,” she suggested.  “If they’re not managed carefully when they reach the border, the goblins are going to continue eating and looting though into Archesia.”

“I agree,” Fortitude said.  “The King has asked that we remove them from Han.”

“So do we send them back to Winterslow?” Celia asked.

Fortitude considered that.  “I don’t know,” he replied.  “Firstly, we don’t currently have a gateway link from Archesia back to Bayonnar.  Second, the King is going to want their services again I guarantee it.  His letter to me made it sound like they had been a major factor in forcing the Han to sue for peace.  I think we may want to resettle them here or in Gavin.”

Nan scowled.  “You can’t be serious.  They’ll be more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Maybe,” Fortitude allowed.  “However, I’ll judge that for myself.”

Nan sniffed and looked away as if the matter was not that important to her.

Celia turned to the messenger.  “How long is the ride to the border?” she demanded.

“Lady,” he replied.  “A fast horse will get you there in a day.  Less if you change horses and ride post.”

Celia made a sour face and turned to Fortitude.  “I think the sooner we get to the border the better.”

“Indeed,” Fortitude replied.  “I’ve got some arrangements to make for the coming grand assembly, so let’s plan to leave around midday.  The main thing that worries me is how are we going to control them once they enter Archesia?”

Nan grinned coldly.  “Leave that to me.”

Fortitude shook his head.  “No Nan,” he said.  “I don’t want them dead.”

Nan replied in a tone that was just a little too casual.  “I’m over that now,” she reasoned.  “I won’t kill them.  Besides, you need me there to control them.  Who other than the Big Goblin Princess will they listen to and obey?”

Fortitude evaluated her carefully for a long moment.  “All right,” he ruled.  “You can come but I’ll be watching you.  I really don’t want the goblins killed.”

“Trust me,” Nan replied.

***

Fortitude’s departure was delayed somewhat by various officials and nobles wanting a few moments of his time.  The group was unable to get away until nearly mid-afternoon. 

When it came time to ride out Nan could not be located.  Fortitude was instantly suspicious and he questioned his companions.  “Did she tell anyone what she was doing?”

“Yes,” Aidan replied.  “I saw her leaving earlier.  She said she was going to ride ahead with some presents for the goblins to show that she had forgiven them for everything that had happened in the past.”

“And you believed her?” Fortitude said incredulously.

“See seemed sincere,” Aidan replied.

Fortitude shook his head.  “Let’s leave right now,” he commanded.  “We have to get to the border before she does. I don’t know what she’s planning but I doubt it’s a peace gesture to the goblins.”

***

The Archesian roads were excellent and the horses sped easily along them, however, the late start meant that Fortitude and his companions did not get far before nightfall. 

They camped that night at a homely little village inn and resumed their journey at first light the next morning.  Several hours of hard riding later they caught up with Nan. 

She was driving a huge wagon piled high with large barrels.  Four horses were pulling the wagon and Nan was driving them hard.  They were breathing heavily and, when Fortitude made Nan stop the wagon, they snorted and whuffed gratefully.

“Well this is a surprise,” Fortitude began while studying the barrels suspiciously.  “What’s all this then, Nan?”

“It’s beer for our little goblin friends,” Nan replied innocently.

“Beer?” Fortitude echoed doubtfully.

“Beer,” repeated Nan with a firm nod.  “I’ve treated the goblins badly in the past I think and this is by way of an apology.”  She studied Fortitude’s face and her expression became hurt.  “But I don’t think you believe me; would you like some?”

“Yes, all right,” Fortitude replied.

Nan stepped back into the wagon and broached a barrel apparently at random.  She scooped out a mug of foaming beer and handed it to Fortitude.

Fortitude stared at the beer suspiciously.  It looked and smelt fine, but knowing Nan as he did, he was sure that all was not as it seemed.  He considered taking it over to Sang and getting him to check it for poison, but before he could move, Aidan sidled his horse over. 

“Hey Fortitude,” he said staring at the beer and licking his lips.  “I’ve got a bit of a thirst.  If you’re not going to drink that, could I?”

Fortitude glanced at Nan.  There was nothing about her manner that suggested anything other than hurt innocence and so he passed it over. 

Aidan seized the mug and drained it in a second.  He let out a long and low belch, wiped his mouth then passed the mug gratefully back to Nan.  “Good beer,” he said.

“Are you satisfied?” Nan asked primly.

Fortitude refused to believe that Nan or anyone else for that matter would be transporting a wagon full of beer towards an approaching horde of goblins.  “No sorry,” he said.  “I’m not happy.”  He gestured at William and Marcus.  “Search Nan’s wagon please.”

Nan protested as they scurried up onto the wagon.  Other than the beer barrel Nan had broached previously, they found that every barrel contained highly flammable oil.

Fortitude nodded with a certain grim satisfaction while Nan tried her hardest to look indignant.  “I’ve been cheated,” she claimed.  “I paid for good beer.”

Marcus stood up on the other side of the wagon and pointed at something behind the running boards.  “Hey Fortitude,” he said.  “There are a couple of sets of hinged wooden frames here – just like we made for the gate bomb.”

Everyone stared at Nan who reddened.  “It’s not what you think,” she said weakly then fell silent.

Fortitude considered his options.  He really did need Nan to keep the goblins under control but he could not afford to let her out of his sight again.  “I think we’ll leave your wagon here Nan,” he said.  “You can ride with us.”“

Nan muttered something darkly under her breath, but seeing that she had been out-manoeuvred, agreed grudgingly.

It was with his agreement with Martyn in mind that Fortitude retreated to his chambers in Archesia later that day. 

He went to the window of his room and drew the curtains – plunging the room into semi-darkness.  He then called out to Merrin. 

Several minutes passed, then the air in front of him shimmered, and Merrin appeared.  She was floating several inches above the ground and her body was sheathed in a writhing cloak of dark twisting matter.  She regarded Fortitude with her usual fervent and slightly unhinged stare. 

“Beastlord,” she said happily.  “Ooh this is nice.” 

“Good to see you too,” he said and meant it.  “So how’s it all going?”

“Good Beastlord,” she replied.  A look of curious uncertainty flickered across her face.  “Though I almost destroyed the world three times yesterday and only just prevented a twisting mass of shambling horrors from visiting this morning.”  She shrugged apologetically.  “But that’s much better than what happened the day before last.”  She then frowned thoughtfully.  “Oh and then this morning there was the little incident with the writhing chaos that is the dark elder god Az’aal…” She shrugged.  “But I can’t see anyone missing that town anyway.  Apart from that, it’s all going well.  Mostly everyone’s still alive and virtually all the gods and other worlds are still there.”

Fortitude felt a twinge of dismay at Merrin’s catalogue of disasters but he said nothing.  “And how’s it all going getting the vortex under control?”

Merrin nodded enthusiastically.  “It’s still a problem, but I’ve got it mostly right.  I spent a lot of the last few weeks wondering how on earth Zaahl ever did it when he only had a fraction of my natural aptitude.  I discovered the other day that he didn’t – he just inherited the runes that kept the vortex from destabilising from Elric before him and Elric probably inherited in turn from whomever he replaced.  I destroyed the runes when I opened the silver box.  Since I worked that out I feel a lot better now about the little disasters that have been happening everywhere.”

“So have you got it under control now?” Fortitude demanded.

“Mostly,” Merrin replied.  “I’ve worked out that I can use runes to set up automatic collectors that harvest souls drifting through the vortex.  It just takes a few every hour and the vortex basically stabilises itself.”  She beamed at Fortitude.  “Good huh?”  She looked inordinately pleased with herself.  “Now I’ve got time to play with my powers and experiment with how the universe works.”

Fortitude wondered whose souls were being harvested, then decided it was better he did not know.  The thought of Merrin experimenting with the universe also filled him with dread.

“So Beastlord,” Merrin began.  “How can I serve you?”

“A couple of things,” Fortitude answered.  “First, the red moon.  Do you now have the power to stabilise it?”

Merrin looked surprised and considered the question carefully.  “I suppose so, Beastlord,” she said.  “The mountain is full of power…”  Her eyes defocused as she pondered the challenge.  “It would be a perfect opportunity to see if I can project a wall of manipulative force without ripping this world apart or burning up all the air.”  She clicked her fingers triumphantly.  “Ooh, that’s going to be fun,” she said happily.

Fortitude felt a sick feeling in his stomach.  “Surely there’s another way?”

“I don’t think so,” Merrin replied.  “Is there anything else, Beastlord?”

Fortitude composed his thoughts.  “Yes,” he said.  “I need to know that the gate between Gavin and Saxonburg will remain open so I can continue to rule it from here.  I may also need to transport the Dierdrakin from the seven villages to Archesia.  They are going to look at relocating there and Martyn Darkling may serve as First Councillor there for you.”

“No problems,” Merrin said.  “You will rule Archesia and Gavin and I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”  A happy smile crossed her face.  “The white wolves will help you.”  She nodded hopefully.  “Aren’t they great?  Those little doggies will follow you everywhere and will help you whenever they can.”

Fortitude laughed.  “Thanks Merrin,” he said.  “They were certainly a surprise – but a useful one.”

“My pleasure,” she replied properly.

“So does that mean you will keep the gates open?”

“Yes,” Merrin replied.  “The great gate between Saxonburg and Gavin will last as long as you or your descendants rule in my name.  Anyone and anything will be able to travel safely through it.  As for the Dierdrakin…” She paused and gave a fond smile.  “I like them.  Tell them they just need to step into any gate and I will transport them to their new homes in Archesia.”  She hesitated a moment.  “You might want to tell them to wait a couple of days though.  I still haven’t quite got the altitude controls right yet on gates.”

“I will,” Fortitude replied.  “And thanks.”

Merrin frowned and stared away into space.  “Umm, I must be going,” she said abruptly.  There’s been a hideous fire in Taiking and I’ve got souls to harvest.  Boy, it never stops round here…” 

With that she faded from sight and was gone.

***

Late that same afternoon a messenger rode into Saxonburg wearing the royal colours of Bayonnar.  He presented Fortitude with a letter from the King.  Fortitude opened it in his chamber and read it carefully.

My dear Fortitude,

My congratulations on the taking of Archesia.  You may not be aware but we have now concluded formal peace arrangements with the Han on most favourable terms.  The destruction of the Han army at Tsi-Nan, the death of their High Councillors, the death of Ghin-zhu, the ascension of Merrin, and the complete destruction of twenty thousand of their troops by my armies at St Stephens have all contributed to leaving the Han thoroughly defeated and demoralised.  In addition, there are reports that the goblins have sacked a large part of central Han creating panic and disorder.

The new Han High Minister, Ding-sai has negotiated a peace treaty with us in the name of his Emperor.  All Han troops will return to Han and the borders will be restored to where they were prior to the war.  In return for no reparations or apology, the Han have agreed to renounce all claims to Routh now and in perpetuity.  They have agreed that Archesia should be an independent realm under my protection. 

They only ask that the goblins be removed from Han as soon as possible.  I imagine that is easier said than done, so I shall leave it to your discretion.  The Han may be on their own there.

This is a glorious victory Fortitude and you and your companions are principally responsible for it.  Know that I have already proclaimed all of you to be heroes of Bayonnar and have already commissioned the building of a great temple to Merrin in Warminster.

The final step in this drama must now be your ascension to the Archesian throne.  I know this may not be without difficulty.  Accordingly, be advised that I am marching to you at the head of twenty thousand soldiers.  I intend that the Archesian grand assembly will endorse you without hesitation or condition.  I also intend to crown you personally to make clear the message that all Bayonnar and I will stand by you and that Archesia is to become part of a larger Empire.

I trust that all is well.  Look for me within the next week.  I eagerly anticipate sharing a drink with you to our glorious victory and all the wonderful things that the future will bring.

William VI

PS, I have taken the liberty of fetching Adela Peveral from Wintershall.  She is travelling with me and we will both arrive in Archesia together.  I believe it would be politick to combine the coronation and wedding.

Fortitude felt a rush of nervousness and excitement as he read the postscript.  He was going to get married and soon.  He found himself looking forward to seeing Adela again and he hoped she would like Archesia. 

He reread the letter several times and his initial excitement faded as he realised the entire message was about the King furthering his own imperial ambitions. 

It was therefore with very mixed feelings that he settled down at the window to his chambers and pensively stared down at the city below trying to settle his thoughts.

The next few days were exhausting.  While the Archesians remained grateful to Fortitude for their liberation from the hated Han, this did not stop them plotting endlessly and jostling for positions of power in the new regime. 

Fortitude’s occupation of the Archesian royal palace placed him physically in the place that most Archesians identified as the centre of all power.  Almost unconsciously, and out of long habit of bringing problems and decision to the palace, surviving nobles and officials began to defer to Fortitude.  Despite this, there was considerable resentment about his perceived usurpation of power and the palace became full of intrigues, gossip and plotting.

Once again, however, circumstance greatly aided Fortitude.  The Han destruction of the Archesian army had greatly reduced the power base available to the surviving nobles.  Most of the Kingdom’s more influential nobles had been personally leading their troops against the Han when the bomb had exploded and their titles and estates in Archesia had therefore passed to younger family members.  Most of these were inexperienced and were fully occupied with taking control of their own estates. These new lords also lacked the confidence and the relationships to organise and present a unified face against Fortitude.

This all combined to make Fortitude’s first few days as de facto leader of Archesia that much easier.  Though he still encountered opposition from various hostile lordlings and self-important officials, he overcame them with relative ease.  He had the only army in Archesia and its composition, of Dierdra worshippers, goblins, giants, wolves, ogres and trolls dissuaded many people who might have otherwise been tempted to oppose him.  The new goddess Merrin had also very publicly anointed Fortitude as the Beastlord and her high priest.  She had made it very clear she was going to stand by him and bring a very sudden and messy fate to those who displeased him. 

On top of all this, Fortitude had his companions looking out for him.  In their own ways they each assisted Fortitude in asserting authority over a range of wayward and vocal opponents.  Sang’s quiet confidence and penetrating gaze unsettled many would-be opponents.  William’s impossible speed and inhuman demeanour frightened others, while Aidan’s thuggish tendencies, combined with a fondness for maiming and knifing those who annoyed him, controlled still others. 

Dunstan and Marcus took charge of all matters concerning the Kingdom’s administration and finances.  A number of urgent appropriations were levied against guilds, estates and temples that showed less than enthusiastic support for the new regime.  On the second day, they confiscated two palaces in Saxonburg on the pretext that payment of a debt of two silver farthings was a day late.  Though Fortitude subsequently reviewed and reversed these decisions, overt opposition disappeared overnight among the wealthy and well-propertied nobles.

Celia and Nan politicked ceaselessly for Fortitude, Kyril and themselves.  They readily developed networks among the long stream of sycophants who recognised the inevitability of Fortitude’s accession.  They learned quickly who had influence and who did not.  More than one uncooperative noble found himself sent to report on grain production in Southern Archesia or to count mills along the border.  Others, however, learned quickly that there were hundreds of petty titles, stipends and official positions going to those who supported the new regime.  Fortitude approved more than fifty such appointments and preferments over those days.  Day by day, the list of supporters grew.

While Celia and Nan focussed on petty intrigues and building a network of supporters, Carolus worked on ensuring the succession went Fortitude’s way.  When a royal line ended, it was the job of a royal council of ten high nobles and churchmen to nominate five possible successors.  It was then the job of a grand assembly of all the high nobles, churchmen and guildsmen to choose one of the five and to award them the title of King.

Seven of the ten positions on the royal council were empty thanks to the Han gate bomb.  Carolus carried out comprehensive interviews with candidates for the vacant positions.  One high churchman disappeared during these interviews and two elder sons of ducal estates were never seen again.  At the end of the first week, Carolus brought a list of recommended candidates to Fortitude for ratification and the royal council was convened a day later.

The royal council was a splendid and archaic affair.  The ten nobles and churchmen were locked in a building for as long as it took them to come back with their short-list.  The first list contained five names.  Fortitude’s name was at the top along with four other highly respected scions of some of Archesia’s oldest and most venerated families.

The royal council was then postponed for two days when two members died of heart attacks before the list could be ratified. 

The second meeting was shorter.  The list came back with five more names.  As before, Fortitude’s name was at the top of the list along with those of four other nobles.  This time, the four other nobles were a little less notable.  One was a drooling imbecile in his eighties and close to death.  Another was in debtor’s prison.  The third had not been seen in more than a decade and was believed dead.  The fourth was a man who had made a fortune raising sheep and had purchased a title by marrying the daughter of an impoverished lord.  His name was a byword for social climbing in the royal court. 

Fortitude frowned at this last name and wondered if someone was trying to make a point.  Nevertheless, he signed the list as Carolus requested.

With this duty done, Carolus allowed the surviving royal councillors to return safely to their homes and duties.  He then had a royal proclamation issued calling for a grand assembly one week hence. 

***

Aidan spent those days drinking, carousing and generally unwinding with his three little goblin friends.  He was aware of the great things going on all around him and of the fact that he did not really have any meaningful role to play in them.

He was still astonished by Fortitude’s elevation to the thrones of Archesia and Gavin and his acceptance by Merrin as a high priest.  For the first time, he began to envy and admire the way Celia, Nan and William had a common cause.  They worked well together and were bound and driven by their service to Fortitude and Kyril.

On the day after the royal council, Aidan decided he wanted to be a part of this new world.  He went to his room, closed the door and awkwardly knelt down to pray. 

“Say Merrin,” he called.  “Ahh, Merrin are you there?”

There was a long pause, and then Merrin’s voice sounded in his head.  “Hello Aidan,” she said.  “My, what a little mind you’ve got.  gee it’s dark in here.”

Aidan sniffed awkwardly.  “Yeah well it’s about that…” he began.  “I was just wondering…” He paused and frowned.  “Now that Fortitude’s a high priest and all, I was just wondering if you needed a paladin?”

There was a long silence during which time Aidan felt Merrin studying him.  “Well,” she said doubtfully.  “You would certainly bring chaos to the world, but would you really bring madness?”

“Well I dunno,” Aidan replied.  “I could try.”

Merrin did not sound convinced.  “So how do you feel about unleasing eldrich horrors and scouring your enemies with things that the eyes and mind cannot quite comprehend.”

Aidan suddenly got the feeling that his whim was a bad idea.  “Umm, yeah, I see what you’re saying,” he said.  “Maybe not then.”

“Good idea,” Merrin replied. 

Aidan shrugged apologetically.  “I really just wanted some good armour if truth be known,” he said.

“Oh?” said Merrin.  “I can do that, if that’s all you want,” she said.

“Ooooh, could you,” Aidan begged.  “I’d be ever so grateful.”

There was a long pause.  “There,” Merrin announced with considerable satisfaction.  “All done.”  A second later her presence was gone.

Aidan got awkwardly up off his knees and went over to his armour.  The red paint had gone and the armour was now a throbbing, twisting set of black polished surfaces.  The image on the front had been replaced by a curiously three-dimensional and extraordinarily realistic claw thumbing an oddly shaped nose.

Aidan studied it with awed approval.  “Oh wow,” he exclaimed approvingly as he twisted the breastplate from side to side.  “No matter what angle you look at it from, the rude gesture turns to follow you.” 

Aidan chortled in delight and went to show it to his little goblin friends.

***

Over these weeks Fortitude developed confidence and assurance in his new role.  Archesia was an unfamiliar realm with literally thousands of unknown officials and nobles, yet he managed to navigate a way through them by using common sense and good judgement.  He quickly assessed the myriad of men and women working for him and identified those who put duty and integrity before self-promotion. 

By working closely with Celia and Carolus, he did his best to appoint good people to key positions and then give them considerable autonomy and discretion in how they carried out their duty.  He was disappointed a few times, but mostly people responded well to this style.  The administration of the Kingdom began to flourish and Fortitude began to understand the complex inter-relationships between the different parts of his new realm.

He asked questions, pored over documents till late at night and sat through interminable briefings.  He sought advice before making decisions and avoided making serious mistakes by encouraging his advisors to speak honestly and to debate decisions in front of him. 

Slowly but surely, he came to feel more comfortable in his new duties.  He began rebuilding the Archesian army and took a personal pride in his first major proclamation – the offer of freedom for all slaves and serfs who agreed to serve in his new Royal Reserve.

The nobility generally regarded this as appalling liberalism but, by this time, had learned not to publicly disagree with Fortitude on matters that he labelled – ‘righting wrongs’.

Fortitude also raised eyebrows by meeting with the citizens of Saxonburg in the palace.  Groups of tradespeople, crafters and freemen visited every day in groups of five and ten.  They poured out their troubles and hopes to Fortitude who listened carefully and tried to understand this new people he was now responsible for. 

Their issues were not at all dissimilar from those he had grown up with in Wintershall and he was able to communicate with them on most matters with a familiarity that clearly astonished and impressed them.

He made other proclamations over those days.  He placed an upper limit on the services and taxes that could be levied against any person and subsidised the price of grain so that no one might go without bread.

Marcus grumbled and groaned at this largesse and wrangled additional concessions from Fortitude for generating state revenue to ensure that each of these new social reforms could be afforded.

While managing affairs in Archesia, Fortitude travelled through to Gavin almost daily to meet with Martyn Darkling and to assist him in assuming control over the Theocracy. 

Martyn was clearly invigorated by his new duties.  Though he had never lived outside the Dierdrakin lands previously, he took the same approach to his responsibilities as Fortitude and applied intelligence, common sense and intuition to bringing a new order to the Theocracy of Gavin.   

It was thirteen days after the fall of Gavin that Martyn took Fortitude to his chambers overlooking the city and, without preamble, began to discuss the future of the Dierdrakin. 

“You know,” Martyn began.  “When you asked me to take charge here you claimed that all religions were tolerated here.  I didn’t believe you, but now…”  He paused and shook his head wonderingly.  “It’s true; the worship of Dierdra is tolerated and encouraged.”

“Ahh really?” Fortitude replied sagely.

“Yes, I have met priests of the goddess and have visited the temple.  It is located openly between the temples of Illana and the Austereich god, Grimm.”  He shook his head.  “It is a fine building and is true to our Lady’s precepts.”

“Indeed?” Fortitude replied.

“Yes, the people of Gavin pride themselves on tolerating – nay encouraging all religions and beliefs.”

“Except, apparently worship of Merrin,” Fortitude pointed out.  “They did try to attack her.”

“Perhaps,” Martyn replied.  “I think they more feared what she would do to their society.  Had she not been replacing Zaahl, then I suspect they would simply have accepted her ascension and begun construction of yet another temple.  As it is, Merrin is now accepted everywhere and I have not heard anything being said against her.”

“Probably a good thing,” Fortitude allowed.  “Bad things happen to those who mouth off against Merrin.”

Both men laughed at this, but soon Martyn grew serious again.  “So tell me Fortitude.  If the reports are correct, the upcoming royal assembly is likely to offer you the Archesian throne.”

“Yes,” Fortitude replied.  He felt a sudden knot of tension again.

Martyn regarded him carefully.  “And Merrin has asked you to rule Gavin in her name?”

Fortitude inclined his head.  “Yes.”

Martyn took a deep breath before continuing.  “You asked me before if my people would shift to Archesia with you.  I stand by my answer; we will not live there.  We have nothing in common with those people and at some time in future I am sure they would persecute us.  The Theocracy of Gavin, however, is another story.  There is land here and tolerance.  We would be able to build new communities and grow to spread the lady’s word.”

“Yes you would,” said Fortitude simply.  “And I’d value having you here.”  He paused.  “If you are willing I would have you continue to serve me as High Councillor of Archesia in my name.”

Martyn studied Fortitude carefully.  “You honour me and I am grateful beyond words for your trust.  I’ll need to talk to my people in Winterslow,” he said.  “It’ll take time to convince them and many will resist.  However, the world will not leave us alone in Bayonnar.  We cannot hide there any longer.”  He shook his head.  “We must shift for our own survival and to take advantage of the protection that you can offer our people.”

Fortitude leaned over and clasped Martyn’s shoulder.  “Of all my allies, I trust you most.  I need you as much as you need me – this’ll be a partnership.  Tell your people that.”

“I will,” Martyn assured him.

“The only additional condition your people must accept is the ending of the sacrifices.”

Martyn nodded.  “I was uneasy with that condition,” he admitted.  “But now I have seen and met with worshippers of Dierdra here in Gavin, I see now that sacrifice of our people is not necessary if we can live in a strong realm and can be sure of support from others against those who disagree with us.  Gavin is clearly that place.”

Martyn and Fortitude shook hands solemnly.  Martyn promised to convey Fortitude’s words to the Council of Seven within the week.  In turn, Fortitude declared that he would seek out Merrin and ensure that she would keep the gateways open if the Dierdrakin did agree to relocate to the Theocracy.

The next morning everyone felt a little slow.  The toils of the last week combined with the previous night’s celebration were visible upon every face.

Despite tiredness, Fortitude had the army ready soon after sunrise.  The Dierdrakin forces lined up in front of Merrin’s portal.  The Han volunteers were behind them and the giants waited at the back. 

Fortitude waited until everyone was in place then summoned the white wolves.  They poured out of the surrounding fields in a huge wave and, at Fortitude’s direction, formed a huge unruly mass behind the giants.

Fortitude joined his companions and Martyn Darkling in front of the gateway.  Together they studied the four thousand creatures behind them and speculated upon what was likely to be waiting for them in Gavin.

“I would advise scouting out the other side of the gate,” Sang suggested.  “Who knows what preparations the Gavinites have set up in reception for us.”

“I agree with Sang,” Aidan declared.  “If it was me, I’d have moats, palisades and archers ready for us directly on the other side of the gate.”

“Could Merrin help?” Celia asked.  “Could she have one of her monsters clear the land on the other side of the gate.”

“Unfortunately no,” Fortitude replied ruefully.  “No sooner than Merrin made me one of her high priests yesterday than I lost contact with her.  I haven’t been able to talk to her since.”

That sparked a few grumbles and jokes.

“I don’t see any choice,” Fortitude said.  “We’ll send a scout through and wait for him to report back.”

Aidan winced visibly and looked hurriedly away.  Nan took a half step back so William concealed her.  Most everyone avoided making eye contact with Fortitude.

Fortitude gestured at Aidan.  “Let’s send one of the goblins through.”

Aidan looked relieved by this.  He removed the sack from his back and pulled a sleeping goblin out at random.  It was Gordon and he woke and yawned tiredly as Aidan shook him. 

“Wazzup?” he whined.

“I need you to step through the portal here and return once you’ve seen what’s on the other side?”

“Is it dangerous?” Gordon demanded.

“Yes,” Fortitude admitted.  “There could be an enemy on the other side or traps that kill you when you appear.”

Gordon’s expression became cunning.  “Will I get a shiny coin if I go?”

“Sure thing, Gordon.”

The goblin whooped happily and stepped in the glowing wall of light.  He was only gone a half-minute and, when he reappeared he held out his hand to Fortitude.

“What did you see, Gordon?” Fortitude demanded pressing a silver farthing into the hairy little palm.

“Nothing,” Gordon replied.  “Grass, mountains and a city in the distance.  No traps or people at all.”

Fortitude was surprised to hear this and he decided to check it out for himself.  “I’ll just be a moment,” he said and stepped into the portal.

There was a rushing twisting sensation and Fortitude stumbled out into a vast flat and very empty field.  The air was a few degrees colder here and the sky was grey.

He was about a mile from the City of Gavin.  Tall mountains walled out the sky to the north, west and south.  He focussed his gaze for a moment on the tallest and darkest mountain in the range – where Merrin had her new fortress temple. 

In the other direction lay the city of Gavin.  It covered a wide area – all of which was enclosed in a long forbidding grey stone wall.  There were many buildings visible above the line of the wall and statues and religious icons dotted around their rooflines suggested that an extraordinary number of them were temples.

The one gate on this side of the city was closed and he could see hundreds of figures arrayed along the walls.  It looked like the City of Gavin was ready for him but he could not understand why the defenders had not prepared some trap or reception for him at the portal mouth.  Perhaps they just had no experience with portals, he decided.

After studying the city for another few minutes, Fortitude stepped back into the gate and reappeared seconds later in Archesia.  He called the army commanders to him. 

“The city is closed to us and the walls are held against us.  Fortunately and rather foolishly there are no troops at the gate site so we can pass through safely.  I want the Dierdrakin to swing left once through the gate and form up in a long line facing the city.  The wolves and giants will do the same thing on the right.” 

The commanders saluted and departed to prepare their units.  Several minutes later, when every unit had signalled its readiness, Fortitude started the army marching into the portal. 

The size of the gate meant that his army was able to march through six at a time.  Moving thus, the full army passed through in less than fifteen minutes.  As the companies emerged, marshals directed them left and right to the positions indicated by Fortitude.

When the army was finally arranged to Fortitude’s satisfaction, he ordered a slow march towards the city.  The army moved forward at a leisurely pace in their current crescent formation until they were around five hundred yards from the city walls.  Fortitude then halted the lines and ordered everyone to stand ready.

Fortitude carefully examined the city again from this distance.  The Gavinites stared back from the top of the walls.  They had several large war engines and Fortitude noted their locations carefully.  His army was still well beyond the effective range of anything that the Gavinites had but, again, an outright assault by his forces on the city looked like it would be suicidal.  He wished he knew how many troops were awaiting him.  He could only see a few hundred from here but he assumed there must be more down behind the walls.

He considered this for a long moment then beckoned Dunstan forward.  “Time for more negotiations,” he announced.

“Me?” Dunstan exclaimed indignantly.  “I did two lots of negotiation yesterday.  Someone else can go.”

“Sorry,” Fortitude replied.  “You’re our most experienced negotiator.  I need you to do it.”

Dunstan said a very rude word, and then stomped off towards the city.

Fortitude watched as Dunstan walked towards the gate and stopped a hundred yards away.  After a minute the gate opened and a man walked up to Dunstan from the city.

They talked for more than five minutes before parting.  The man returned to the city while Dunstan strode back to report.  “Well that went about as well as I might have expected,” he said pointedly.

“What happened?” Fortitude demanded.

“That was the mayor of the city.  Apparently, the city doesn’t want to accept the rule of Merrin.  They, or more specifically, a surviving high priest of Zaahl and his followers want to be left alone and they want us to go away.”

“Tell them they’ll surrender, or we’ll take their city,” Fortitude said.

“You really should do these negotiations yourself,” Dunstan replied pointedly.

An idea occurred to Fortitude at that moment and he studied the walls carefully.  It was risky but it did offer a reasonable chance of success with minimal casualties.  Best of all, there was no downside if it went wrong. 

Fortitude gestured at Aidan.  “Hey Aidan,” he said.  “Can you get Slabfist’s arbalest and be ready to give it to me if I need it?”

Aidan nodded and slipped away towards the giant.

Fortitude then turned to Martyn Darkling.  “Say Martyn, can you get me the other one of those sticks that shoots flames?”

“Certainly Baron.”  Martyn beckoned over one of the runemages standing nearby who presented Fortitude with a rune inscribed stick.  Fortitude stared down at it for a long moment then addressed those standing around him.  “All right, we’re going to move the entire army forward another couple of hundred yards until we’re just out of range of the trebuchets on those walls.” 

He saw questions forming on a number of faces.  “Don’t ask,” he said.  “Just do what I say.”

Orders echoed down the lines and, after a few seconds, the army began moving forward.  They closed about half the distance to the city and stopped again. 

The troops on top of the city walls pointed bows and crossbows and a few arrows were launched high into the air.  They fell, spent onto the ground, twenty yards or more from the army line.  Fortitude heard orders being shouted on the wall and he saw troops preparing to fire a massed volley.

“Steady,” he called.  “No one moves further forward until I order it.”

His words passed along the lines in either direction.

There was a huge twang from the walls and more than a thousand arrows arced into the air briefly turning the sky grey above the city.  There was a sound like ripping cloth as the arrows all buried themselves in the ground just short of the army.  Several arrows flew further than Fortitude had expected and two goblins fell in the Dierdrakin ranks.

Fortitude waited until the sky was clear of arrows, then spoke to Aidan.  “Stay behind me,” he said and walked forward till he reached the line of spent arrows.  He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted as loudly as he could.  “I am the Beastlord.  I wish to negotiate with the high priest of Zaahl.”

A man pushed out in front of the troops on top of the wall.  Fortitude noted with considerable satisfaction that the man was wearing the long black robe of a Zaahl worshipper.  “I am Doric, high priest of Zaahl,” the man shouted.  “Leave us or we will destroy you.”

“Excellent,” Fortitude said loud enough for Aidan to hear.  “He has to be seen to be leading his troops and personally defying me.”  He raised his voice and projected towards the wall.  “Zaahl is dead and Merrin has replaced him.  You will surrender or die!”

The man in the black robe shouted back.  His voice was faint at this range but his words were clear.  “No, we will never serve the bitch goddess, Merrin,” he cried. 

Fortitude moved carefully through the arrows until he was sure he was in bow range.  He then cupped his hands and bellowed again.  “I have an offering from her to show her intentions to you.”  He pointed the rune ensorcelled stick at the man. 

“Work!” he spat.

The stick trembled in his hand and then jerked back as a huge gout of flame jetted from it.  The flame crossed the two hundred yards in less than a second and spread out in a cone as it travelled.  By the time it reached the wall, it had dissipated somewhat but it still blanketed an area of around thirty yards in diameter with flame.  Fortitude heard screams and choking and saw people running and burning at the edge of the affected area.

The flame sputtered out after ten seconds and a light breeze quickly cleared away the mass of black smoke remaining over the walls.  Most of the figures had disappeared from the wall, however, there were a few blackened shapes still standing or leaning up against the wall burning and pouring out smoke.  One of them was exactly where the high priest had been standing.

Fortitude gestured back at Aidan.  “Arbalest,” he called crisply.

Aidan stepped forward and pushed Slabfist’s loaded weapon into Fortitude’s hands.  Fortitude raised it and slowly and carefully took aim on what was left of the high priest.  He exhaled slowly and then gently squeezed the trigger.  There was a loud thump and the huge bolt sped towards the city walls. 

A gust of wind caught the bolt and it seemed to drift fractionally left.  Both Fortitude and Aidan leaned right as they willed it back on course.  They need not have worried, however, as the bolt slammed into the shoulder of the smouldering priest.  His body was smashed back in a shower of smoke and embers and disappeared from sight.

The army cheered loudly behind Fortitude until he held up a hand for silence.  He then stepped forward another few paces and called out again. 

“We are ready to negotiate again,” he shouted.  “Come out and talk or we’ll rain down far worse on you.  Merrin is not patient.” 

He focussed his mind on the wolves.  “Howl,” he willed them. 

Behind him, the thousand wolves unleashed an ear-splitting, spine-tingling howl that seemed to drift on forever and blanket the plain around him in a wall of noise.  Fortitude saw troops on the walls quail fearfully. 

He let the sound roll and grow for twenty seconds then made a chopping gesture in the air.  The howls ceased in an instant leaving nothing but lingering echoes.

Fortitude then settled back to wait.  A few minutes later the gate opened again and the figure that Dunstan had negotiated with previously began trotting awkwardly forward to where Fortitude was waiting. 

The mayor of the City of Gavin was worried looking man in his fifties with ruddy cheeks and large jowls.  He stopped in front of Fortitude and bowed politely. 

“I am Roger, Mayor of Gavin.”  The man spoke with a strange burr in his voice, but his words were clear and his manner was exceedingly polite.

“Well met, Roger,” Fortitude replied.  “I’m Fortitude uls Morcar, Beastlord, Regent of Archesia, High Priest of Merrin and Baron of Winterslow.  I am here to demand your surrender?”

The Mayor looked rather trapped but he nodded.  “You have it, highness,” he replied and his expression grew bitter.  “It was the Zaahl worshippers fault.  They’ve always had so much influence that it was hard to say no to them.  Now that you’ve just killed their High Priest – the First Councillor of Gavin…”

Fortitude rested his hand on the sword.  “Who is the First Councillor?” he demanded.

The sword did not waste time.  “Gavin is a theocracy, ruled by a council of the temples led by a First Councillor.”

Fortitude focussed back on the mayor.  “So you will serve Merrin, then?” he demanded.

The mayor looked torn and unhappy.  “I can’t really answer that, highness,” the man replied.  “I’m only mayor.  We have always had an understanding with the Temple of Zaahl.  We were hoping that the understanding might be continued.”

“What was this understanding?” Fortitude demanded coolly. 

The mayor sensed Fortitude’s displeasure and began to speak faster.  “Sire, we’re a theocracy; we tolerate and welcome all religions.  There has always been Zaahl and everyone else and Zaahl’s high priest was always First Councillor.  We gave the prescribed tithes, services and supplies to Zaahl’s temple and in return, Zaahl guaranteed order and laws and allowed all other temples to flourish.”

Fortitude frowned.  “You tolerate all religions?”

“Yes sire.”

A thought crossed Fortitude’s mind.  “Including Deirdre?”

“The lady is welcome here in all her guises and forms.”

“Ahh,” said Fortitude carefully.  “And if Merrin demands no more duties and rights than Zaahl has in the past then you would accept her rule and the rule of one of her servants as First Councillor.”

“I suppose so, sire,” the mayor replied.

Fortitude rubbed his jaw.  “Where is your army?  Why are they not facing us?  Surely Gavin has an army?”

The mayor looked even more wretched.  “Some remained loyal to the First Councillor.  Others figured that Zaahl was dead and so they should support Merrin.  Most, however, decided to remain neutral until it all sorted itself out.”

Fortitude felt this sense of wonder as he realised that he had just taken his second Kingdom in as many days.  He kept his expression cool though as he replied.  “I think that Merrin will be merciful and leave all things as they are if Gavin swears its fealty to her and accepts a First Councillor of her choosing.”

The mayor looked most relieved.  “Sire, everyone will rejoice in your generosity and wisdom.”

Fortitude felt such a release in tension at that moment that the man’s obsequious comment caused him to laugh.  “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said.  “Nevertheless, you may reassure your people that no one will be harmed and there will be no looting or other trouble so long as everyone accepts my rule and the rule of Merrin here.”

“I will vouch for my people, sire,” the mayor assured him.

“Good,” Fortitude said.  He made eye contact with Martyn Darkling and beckoned him over.

“Say Martyn,” he began.  “I need to ask a favour?”

“Yes Baron?”

Fortitude gestured at the city.  “While I focus on restoring order in Archesia, could you take charge here as First Councillor of Gavin and rule in my name?”

Martyn looked rather taken aback by this request.  “I know nothing of this place or its people,” he protested.

Fortitude laughed again.  “I think you’ll do fine here.  They tolerate all religions, including that of Dierdra.”

Martyn looked astonished.  He turned his gaze to the city and then to the mayor.  “Is this so?” he demanded.

“It is,” the mayor assured him.

Martyn’s astonishment became wonder and he turned back to Fortitude.  “If you wish me to take control here, then I will do so.”

“Good,” Fortitude responded.  “I’ll be back tomorrow.  Before then I need you to verify the terms under which Zaahl held Gavin and I’d like your thoughts on how this land should be run in future.”

“Yes Baron, leave it to me.”

Fortitude gestured at the army lined up behind them.  “I’ll leave you with all the troops that are here right now – other than the wolves.  Have them make camp next to the portal so we have the choice of using them in either Archesia or Gavin as necessary.

Martyn bowed and set about doing as Fortitude had requested.