The taking of the four Barracks had been a success. The manner of which impressive enough to warrant celebrating, after all they had taken complete control of the City Guard and only had to kill some 500 men to do so. Still Sandorn could not completely get rid of the guilt which followed him since he’d woken up after a night of heavy drink. He knew there was too much for them to do to be overly celebratory in mood. But the feeling was infectious. The men surrounding him seemed to have had their doubts utterly quashed by just how he and Averan had led them to victory. Seeing the men of the City Guard around him now Sandorn realised more clearly just how much of a schism had been present in their ranks even before they were pushed into revolt.
The inner chambers of the Citadel were still being flushed out of the smoke and fires that had been set alight inside of it the night before. It did not matter too much to Sandorn, the day was sunny but had a fresh breeze, he was happy then under a canopy on the battlements. He, Averan, Wendon and the Cap were busy organising who and how they would reorganise and garrison the barracks now in their control.
They were interrupted by the sound of trumpets down below announcing incoming riders.
“That’ll be Fenadorn and Sarvth,” Averan yawned as he spoke. “Best hear what they have to say before we do anything else.”
Nodding Sandorn put aside the maps for a moment as Fenadorn came marching briskly up to them, Sarvth followed close behind.
“Well? What word is there?”
Fenadorn shrugged, “Nothing we did not expect. The Gates to the Inner city closed and the walls now heavily manned by men loyal to the New Order.”
“And the count?” Averan asked.
“Well,” Savrth pursed his lips, “Hard to be truly accurate but we have some
2800 of the City Guard with us, perhaps a little more. However both the Eastern and Western Watchtowers arrived on the outskirts this morning. Between them that’s another 800 men willing to fight for Aureate. Add to that the 300 or so from the clans and we’ve got about 4,000 give or take.”
“4,000 it is then.” Sandorn played with a ring on his finger, “Which leaves us up against the Houses of the Forty, us against the Inner Ring. Each House has 50 Household guards. That’s 2,000.”
“It will take more than our 4,000 to take out 2,000 Household Guards. Each one is better armed and trained than a General of the City Guard. We would need to outnumber them far more to truly turn things in our favor.”
“I am aware of that Fenadorn, and besides even if we forget about the Household Guards, there is at least 120, if not far far more Chimereans within the Inner City. Me and Averan can only do so much, should they attack we are doomed.”
Sandorn smiled, “But they haven’t. The Banner of House Aureate flew over the Outer City all night and most of this morning. And yet, no attack. They should be furious, indeed I imagine most of them are furious. They obviously expected some manner of trouble, otherwise the two carcasses of Chimeras would not be stinking up the courtyard down below us. But they did not expect this, I am sure of it. Now we have revealed ourselves completely and truly it is time to gather those among the Forty who still remember Gorias’s history and the rightful place of House Aureate.”
“You think they’ll come?” Wendon asked, swishing around the contents of his cup. “Why?”
“Because this is their last chance. For those not indoctrinated into the thinking of the New Order and their system.” Sandorn stated.
He had to believe that help would come. If not he knew more than anyone that their entire coup would have been for nothing and their plans in ruin.
“So how do we get those who might support us away from the others? We can’t just sit here and wait, we need to act. The sooner we manage to find those Houses still loyal to what we represent the sooner we can take back the throne.”
Averan pounded his fist on the table for emphasis.
“The greatest strength of the Forty is also their greatest weakness. As a united force they are formidable, a force we would have no chance of standing against were they to decide now to move against us. However unlike in the days of Kings when an order could be given and carried out directly, now they must converse, discuss and agree on exactly how and what they will proceed with. They can’t launch an all out attack on the City Guard with only one House, or even a few Houses, they need them all. We must make sure they don’t get them.”
“You know,” Wendon pressed his fingers to his eyelids, “you did give the impression that the Houses would be lining up to join us once we had control of the outer city. The reality would appear to be a great deal different.”
“Nonsense,” Averan chimed, “we’ve done the hard part, trust me. They’ll be on shortly, I’m sure of it.”
“We just need to give them some encouragement.” Sandorn stated.
“How?” Captain asked. “We have taken control of most of the city and it’s key defences, what more encouragement do we need to give these people.”
“A proclamation.” Sandorn said. “A way to confirm what it is we want to do, to restore the old ways, including restoring those Houses which were made suffer for being loyal to our Family. They must know that we will be willing to reward them.” He paused, “Has there been any word from the Inner City?”
“None,” Fenadorn shook his head.
“Then we need to get word to them, request a meeting.” Sandorn called for parchment. “At the Gates to the Inner city. They can hardly deny us that?”
“Well that will be interesting,” Wendon sighed but raised his cup all the same.
“I’ll send word to them immediately once your are ready. It will be better delivered by me, the Forty like their customs, the Captain of your Household Guard should be the one to deliver any message.”
Sandorn nodded at Fenadorn’s words.
“Averan come, we’ll write it together. Wendon, Cap, I think you have the barracks and their garrisons under control for now. Anything else bring it to me directly.”
With that they broke, Fenadorn snatched the cup from Sarvth’s hands as he made to drink another and they headed down to the courtyard. Wendon and the Captain went back to their maps and Sandorn guided Averan along the wall.
“Father’s?”
Sandorn laughed, he’d wondered if Averan would remember. Their mother had left them few material possessions, but what she had left had been invaluable. A chest complete with two sets of Arronian armor and the swords and axe now carried by both of them. Parchments and books of their History and Gorias’s, books not found in any library still standing. And a diary too. A book of their Father’s hopes and ambitions, of his worries and fears. And in that book was written a Proclamation, one their Father had created for the day when House Aureate rose to prominence once more. That day was now.
“You agree?” Sandorn needed to be sure.
“Course I do. We are merely finishing what he started. Had he not been betrayed then we’d already be back in our Palace. His Proclamation will put us on the final path to that destination. I can feel it.”
Sandorn looked out over the barracks, it was still quite full of their men, the exact allocations to the rest of the city still being ironed out. The place was awash with noise and people running about with orders. Sandorn felt as his Brother did. They were approaching the end, soon they would reach their conclusion, soon their Family would rule again.
The streets were lined by men of the City Guard leading all the way up to the Gates of the Inner Ring. The huge walls had been built in the earliest days of the city, when Gorias was just the Inner city. Now though the outer city had grown to twice the size of the Inner, its walls still dominated the landscape. The outer walls of Gorias now stood at 100ft, the Inner were smaller, but only by about 20 ft. Upon it now stood rows of Household guards, easily identifiable in their house colors and crests. Each one would be in Arronian armor with Arronian steel by their sides, though not quite as elegant or as pure as the Lords and Ladies might have, and certainly not compared to Sandorn’s and Averan’s.
Sandorn looked on them casually as he rode up the street, he couldn’t fully recognise many of them, but he saw amongst them the Green and white of House Atlantian, the blue and gold of House Larren and the Black and red of House Danann. Only the cloaks and helmet plumes separated one Household guard from the next.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
The Gates were left wide open. Sandorn supposed the Lords and Ladies of the Forty had no reason to fear them. Whatever problems he and Averan had caused they still offered no true threat to those with the Blood of the Chimera. But figuring out how to reform the City Guard when most of it was against them was certainly an issue. They could work to try and turn Wendon and the others against them. But Sandorn believed it too late for that. Part of him was curious to see what they could come up with. More of him however did not want to give them the chance.
Beside him Averan fidgeted once more with the Crown upon his head. The Crown of the Prince, it was similar in most ways to the one atop Sandorn’s. But where his had a deep golden hue Averan’s had a silver tone.
Sandorn came to a stop about 10 paces from where the first row of the Forty was placed. A row of six, followed by a longer row of twelve and then two rows closely together of eleven. Even now the Houses were careful to categorise themselves into the positions of status.
Sandorn smiled as he saw the face of the man he and Averan had chased from the Amata’s manor standing before him. It seemed a lifetime ago now that they had met. But his face was not a forgettable one. He was wearing an elegant yet powerful suit of Arronian armor, artfully crafted with the green and white of his House. From it Sandorn could glean which House that was. House Atlantian, one of the 6 Circlets. Which must make him Lord Asral Atlantian.
Sandorn gave him a slight nod.
No one spoke. All waited. Waited for them. Sandorn let it build, only drawing out the document containing his Father’s proclamation when he felt his silence veering on the verge of annoyance.
“Lords and Ladies of the Forty, my subjects.”
Sandorn had warned Averan to remain stony faced but from a subtle glance to his right he could see his Brother stifling a laugh. Sandorn had insisted the subjects line was not meant to be a joke but Averan still treated it like one. Looking back to the faces of the Forty Sandorn had to admit he could see why. He pushed back any hint of a smile however.
“I stand before you today, Sandorn Aureate, alongside my Brother, Averan Aureate. We are the Twins Aureate, sons of Devran Aureate, son of Savar Aureate, younger brother to Avern Aureate the last King of Gorias. We are the Line of Kings, the purest Blood of the Chimera and the Family to which each one of you owes both your genetic and social standing. Without House Aureate there would be no Gorias, there would be no Inner City, there would be no Lords and Ladies of the Forty. Without the ancestors of our Proud House there would not be the greatest civilisation ever created in the history of mankind. I call on all of you to remember your own Family’s history, and its oaths. Many of you forgot those very same oaths when the last King of Gorias was so cruelly killed, many of you abandoned them completely. Some of you…..” Sandorn stopped to look up, “Some of you openly violated that oath. But now I, Gorias’s true King offer you the chance to forge anew what was broken. Should you join and aid us in the return of Gorias to the old Ways then you and your Family will be given places of high honor by our sides, just as you once held before. Under House Aureate Gorias became what you see before you today. Should you recognise me and my Brother once more Gorias will have its Glory. That I swear to you.”
“You swear?” Lord Asral laughed and waved his arms about him, “What exactly? How exactly? If it is true and you are who you claim to be then what of it? Your family and all it represented have not ruled in Gorias for over 87 years, yet now you stand before us and make such ridiculous claims. Does this hubris come from a misguided youth or idiocy? Or perhaps it is both?”
Sandorn nodded, “I understand why it must seem that way to you Lord Asral. Before our House’s removal you and your Family were little more than a middle ranking House. A lower Garnet by today’s standing I suppose one might say. A House known for its deceit and treachery.”
A few sniggers broke out behind Asral, Sandorn knew he had exaggerated, House Atlantian had long strove to attain the highest power and influence within the Inner City but had always fallen just short, until the day when the Kings fell.
A quick glare from Asral shut down any outbreaks of laughter.
“Amusing young Aureate, amusing,” interjected one of the Lords by Asral’s side.
Sandorn knew the speaker. Gorias’ old man, Lord Grend of House Larren. Eldest of the Great Lords he looked frail even in his armor, but his stare held character, steely behind his smile.
“I admire your boldness, your youthful ambition. Most would not have thought you would rise so far and so high. You have done well, even I will admit it. But the time for games is over young Sandorn. You cannot stand against us. You are putting a great deal of lives at risk for your own desires. Can you live with it?”
“Do we stand against all of you? Tell me what have the Lords and Ladies of the Forty decided then? You are united yes, and you said it yourself, we cannot stand against you. So why then I wonder, have you not made your move? Why?”
Averan placed his hands behind his back and began to rock back and forward.
“The Houses of Gorias were never so divided when our Family were Kings. Each Family had as much say as the next. Is it still so? Or could it be that certain Houses among your ranks deem to place themselves far above those around them? Is that right? Is it just? Is it fair?”
Sandorn was careful to make a note of every shuffle, every murmur at Averan’s words. The Forty were united in name only, he knew it, as they did.
Lord Grend shook his head, “You make a lot of noise, but lack any true substance. You have no right, nor claim to Gorias’s throne. For there is no throne. We rule as one now, the Forty Families. Question it as much as you wish, so it is now and so it will remain. Your House may once have been proud and strong, but it lost its way. We placed Gorias back on the right path. We will not allow you to mislead it once more. Surrender now and we will offer you consolation. A reinstatement of sorts, both of you will be permitted to serve as Ambassador’s for our city. Your name yet carries weight, I’ll not deny it, even in the Outer cities all know of House Aureate.”
“That is a fine consolation Twins, be wise, do right by all who follow you.”
Sandorn turned to face a new speaker. A Lady. Mirinda of House Parandin. Sandorn wracked his brains to recall what he knew of her. She had earned a fine reputation as one of Gorias’ most astute negotiators, overseeing a time of great prosperity and renown for her House, including the arranging of marriages which further strengthened her own Family’s position within the Circlet. Her husband had died at sea, journeying to the Kingdoms beyond, most agreed it had been a good day for House Parandin.
“Take what is being offered,” she continued, “for it will only be offered once. It is a only as a sign of respect and nod to your Family’s heritage that it is made.”
“No.” Sandorn stated. “We refuse any offer which does not see us restored to our rightful place.”
“No?” Asral shook his head in disbelief. “We offer you a kindness and you so rashly refuse us. Your arrogance is truly astounding, even a little impressive I’ll admit. But it will be your downfall. I assure you.”
“We have made our Claim clear. Any House which follows us will be given a place of high honor by our side. Many of you suffered when our Family fell, join us now and we will restore not only our House but also yours.”
Lord Grend sighed before raising his hands as if in exasperation.
“So be it, our offer given and flatly refused. Enough of this.”
When Lord Grend lowered his hands things happened suddenly. Six ballistae appeared up on the walls, three for Sandorn, three for Averan. Before he could shout a warning they had already fired.
There were few who could transform so quick as Sandorn or Averan, but even they would have never been able to change in time. Fortunately they did not have to. As Grend had lowered his hands Sandorn had spied some movement and screams from behind, before he could properly identify however the ballistae had diverted his attention. But now he could see just what had caused the commotion. A chimera. And one that had rushed in front of the Ballistae to protect them.
He was big, as big as Averan even. Sandorn had seen the Beast’s tail whip out to slam into the bolts and send them flying out into the crowds. Now the entire place was in uproar. Sandorn and Averan almost in unison transformed themselves. They were not the only ones, some even began to charge out towards them, coming to a halt to surround the first Chimera who had saved them.
Soon there was dozens of Chimeras strewn all along and under the wall. Before any true fighting could break out however Sandorn heard the calls for the Gates to be called and a retreat ordered. He did the same reluctantly, Fenadorn down beside him ready as always to carry out his commands.
It had crossed his mind to attack, but that was only a rash and suicidal thought, he’d of never made it past the Gates nevermind the entire Inner city. Averan had clearly had the same idea, unlike Sandorn however he had decided it was time to press an attack. Sandorn forced him to a halt, desperately dragging him back, Averan resisted at first but reality soon hit and he quickly turned to join in the covering of the retreat.
Running beside Sandorn was the large Chimera who had intervened to save them, alongside him came four more Chimeras. As they ran Sandorn examined their leader, he thought he recognised the face, impossible as that was in the Chimera form, something in it brought him back to his childhood. He just wasn’t sure what.
Sandorn and Averan along with their new Chimera companions were the last to enter back into the Upper Barracks. Though it had been clear quite early on there would be no chase.
Once the Gates were closed Sandorn immediately turned to face the new Beasts who had accompanied them.
Now that he looked on them he counted five, including the large one who had risked his lfe to save them.
Perhaps it was not such a good idea to close the gates, the two of them alone could not stop so many.
It was with relief then that Sandorn watched as one by one the other Chimeras transformed back. He followed suit, though Averan did not.
Sandorn tried and failed to hide his surprise. He knew the man staring intently at him now, had once know him well, called him uncle even.
He was supposed to be dead.