Ampheus Read online

  Copyright © 2019 Jonathan Forth

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events

  and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination

  or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons,

  living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover illustrated by Ignacio Corva.

  Matador

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  Tel: 0116 279 2299

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  Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador

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  ISBN 9781789018998

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

  To Mia, may she be inspired by our heroines in our adventure…

  Contents

  The Four Realms Cast of Characters

  1The Vision

  2Parish of St Martin’s

  3Leo

  4Princess Fayette

  5Kidnapped

  6Knights of the Guard

  7The Queen

  8The Ambassador

  9Windfell Woods

  10The Convent

  11The Horde

  12The King’s Captain

  13The Janshai

  14The Fox

  15Unthank Marsh

  16The Staff of Talisien

  17Lumines

  18Sky Born

  19The Assault of Ampheus

  20Celestina

  21To Fight Another Day

  Epilogue

  The Four Realms Cast of Characters

  Terramis:

  King Armanar: King of the Realm of Terramis and Ward of its capital Ampheus. (Weapon: The sword, Light Wielder). Mount – Star Dancer.

  Queen Laila: Queen of Terramis and Lady of the Realm.

  Prince Aron: Son of King Armanar and Queen Laila. (Weapon: The sword, Golden Blade). Mount – Wildwind.

  Princess Fayette: Daughter of King Armanar and Queen Laila. (Weapon: The sword, Queen’s Defiance).

  Leo: Young man appearing in Daylon’s visions. (Weapon: The Staff of Talisien). Mount – Flint.

  Grandmother: Leo’s grandmother. Not known by any other name.

  Logar: Captain of the King’s Guard at Ampheus. (Weapon: The sword, Beast Slayer). Mount – Rolling Thunder.

  Daylon: Seer to King Armanar (Weapon: The dagger, Razor Phantom).

  Sumnar: Ex-Captain of the King’s Guard at Ampheus.

  Ladryn: Wizard to King Armanar at Ampheus.

  Keilif: Captain of the King’s Archers at Ampheus. (Weapon: The bow, True Flight).

  Dorf: Marshal of the King’s Guard at Ampheus. (Weapon: The war hammer, Thunderclap).

  Urien: Captain of the King’s Cavalry at Ampheus. (Weapon: The shield, Dauntless).

  Aland: Knight of Prince Aron’s personal guard. (Weapon: The crossbow, Flame). Mount – Proud Wanderer.

  Ailin: Knight of Prince Aron’s personal guard. (Weapon: The crossbow, Flare). Mount – Far Ranger.

  Gulden: Knight of the King’s Guard at Ampheus. Twin brother of Rolden. (Weapon: The sword, Truth Giver). Mount – Star Chaser / Sky Bound.

  Rolden: Knight of the King’s Guard at Ampheus. Twin brother of Gulden. Weapon: The sword, Iron Enforcer).

  Sister Hulda: Head of the convent in Windfell Woods.

  Halle: Adopted girl by the convent in Windfell Woods.

  Windstrom:

  Ambassador Martis: Windstrom Ambassador to Ampheus.

  Elder Rian: Elder of the Council of Windstrom.

  Elder Asha: Elder of the Council of Windstrom.

  Mia: Sky Born. Mount – Storm Pride.

  Aquamura:

  Ambassador Kelton: Aquamuran Ambassador to Ampheus.

  Lady Amice: A Terramian and personal friend of Queen Laila. Widower of a wealthy Aquamuran merchant.

  High Commissioner Yip: Chairman of the Aquamuran High Commission.

  Commissioner Niff: Commissioner to the Aquamuran High Commission.

  Gowan: Emissary of Gamura.

  Rear Admiral Dunbar: Commander of the Aquamuran fleet.

  Captain Blade: Pirate, nay Privateer.

  Gamura:

  Gorath ‘The Dark Lord’: Druid of Gamura and Leader of the Horde.

  General Shomari: Janshai, General and Commander of the Horde.

  Worak: Horde Captain, Janshai.

  Characters of the Four Realms:

  Saturnus: Ancient Druid of Terramis.

  Chapter 1

  The Vision

  “Well Daylon, what do you see?”

  The little man seemed distraught and shook his head.

  Then his eyes set and he appeared to make a decision. “Let me try one more time. I don’t understand it.”

  The taller man cursed, scowled at Daylon, paused and then turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. The man’s voice reverberated around the chamber and then gradually dissipated. Daylon was left on his own in the circular stone room in silence, listening to the pounding beat of his heart and the ragged panting of his breathing. The stone chamber had no furniture and only slits for windows.

  Daylon glanced nervously around the room, though no one else was there. He remained seated in the circle marked in the dust on the floor and reeled off an incantation:

  “One can speak of the course of the stars,

  One can speak of the vast creation,

  Harness the power of the crystal,

  Listen to the past wisdoms spoken,

  Through my mind, and the breath of my mouth,

  Grant me access to mine ancient world.”

  With a flash, tendrils of green light leapt out from the emerald crystal cupped in his hands, and in an instant he was surrounded in a globe of green luminosity. The walls of the room shuddered and bent around him. With a deafening boom, the ground disappeared from under Daylon and his arms and legs flailed as he tried desperately to grab hold of anything solid, but his hands grasped only thin air. Emerald streaks flowed past him as he found himself in another place.

  But it was the same place. The same vision that he had seen – his last two attempts to access the power of the crystal. A vision of a small stone chapel. In its gardens, old and decaying gravestones lay discarded and in disarray. Daylon found himself standing by a wooden archway marking a small path that led up to the door of the chapel. The archway was made of oak and warped, untended and weathered over the years. Tendrils of ivy pierced and cracked the wood.

  Standing in front of the archway was an apparition. Daylon could not make out its features: perhaps a boy, maybe a teenager. He was pale, skinny and his clothes ragged and dirty. He stood hunched at the shoulders looking down at his feet. His arms hung loosely by his sides.

 
The boy started to raise his head. Primal fear grasped Daylon from the pit of his stomach and rose as his heart pounded, bursting as if to escape his chest. He knew if the boy looked upon him he would die, he was certain of that. But the boy appeared conflicted. The boy wanted to cast his eyes upon Daylon as if the very gesture would burn Daylon’s soul from his body. At the same time, as before, the boy raised his hand as if to push Daylon away, back from the church to the safety of the celestial markings of the circle and Ampheus. He needed to discover more but he had no power. No more so than a ferryman on his raft without a paddle. He felt the force of the push and the raft cast him back as if to the main current of a stream and he tumbled back to the castle.

  *

  The voice of the little man was high-pitched and hysterical. His voice surged and ebbed with the emerald glow. “Oh dear, this will never do. Am I in trouble? Am I in trouble?” Over and over and over again.

  The green crystal in the little man’s hands glowed so bright it blurred everything around him once more. It built up with intensity until green shards flowed past him and brought him back to his reality, the stone chamber. Daylon buried his head in his hands. He just muttered to himself with dread in his voice, “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!” He shook his head. “There’ll be hell to pay for, yes indeed, hell to pay for.”

  Before his thoughts rambled on any further, the world slowed, materialised and solidified around him. There was another ear-splitting boom. A flash of emerald light and he found himself once again sitting on the hard, slab stone floor.

  The little man was instantly drawn to the arched wooden door, which appeared to be the only entrance to the room. He shook his head as heavy footsteps echoed as they approached from the corridor outside. Daylon buried his head in his hands and peered fearfully through his fingers as if trying to hide from whatever fate may befall him.

  There was the grating of the heavy key reluctant to turn in the lock until it finally gave in with a hollow clank. Then the door swung open, and a huge man stood in the doorway, perhaps six foot four inches tall and broad, covered from head to foot in the chain mail as befitting a medieval knight. A hefty iron sword hung from his waistband. A jagged scar stretched from his eye to his cheek, partially covered by his helmet. His steely, silver eyes widened as he surveyed the scene in front of him, Daylon cowering behind his fingers. Then they narrowed as his mouth formed a grimace, and his hand reached down to the hilt of his sword.

  “Well?” demanded the knight.

  Daylon shook his head. “I can’t find Gorath. I’m taken to the same place. The same vision. I can’t control the outcome any longer; the crystal is beyond my powers.”

  “By God’s bones,” he bellowed. “Now of all times, Seer. Now you fail us. I always told His Majesty that you could not be trusted!”

  He turned and left the room followed by three guards who accompanied him. Daylon listened as the sound of their steps receded down the corridor.

  He remained in the room long after everyone else had left, perhaps to ponder his fate.

  Eventually he shook his head, dusted off his britches and headed out of the stone-walled chamber. He turned right into the corridor, which had no windows. He passed simple narrow slits in the corridor’s walls, which let in shards of light. Flaming torches cast long shadows on the walls as he passed, until eventually he came to a large entrance hall with a wooden door at the far end. A couple of castle guards in armour and holding pikes stood outside. He nodded to them and they stood back pulling the door open for him to enter.

  Daylon scanned the hall. He had been here many times, but its magnificence always stunned him. It was a huge room. Columns curved to the ceilings perhaps fifty feet above him and light burst through plate glass windows depicting famous battles of Terramis from the past.

  Paintings of generations of kings and noblemen hung from the walls; coats of arms and flags adorned suits of armour on display. It gave the hall a sense of grandeur that took your breath away. His eyes settled on the centre of the room and a large oak round table surrounded by what could only be distinguished noblemen, each of whom had paused and looked up to see who had caused the intrusion and now stared quizzically at Daylon.

  At the head of the table was a man sitting in a chair; he was clearly the most regal of the noblemen. He looked up at Daylon, smiled grimly at him and beckoned him to join them.

  King Armanar was a tall man. His body, once lithe and athletic, had become broader and more muscular with age. He resembled a bear, perhaps one satisfied with its late summer foraging as it readied itself for sleep; not the irritable and vicious beast that would stagger hungrily from its cave in the spring looking for food and ready to tussle for its next meal. His face reflected the same. A quiet contentment of a life lived well with good friends and a close family. Bright eyes. Always a ragged beard and a tangle of locks down to his shoulders. Only his closest companions saw the lines sometimes crease on his face as he weighed the decisions and responsibilities of his role for the realm and his people. It seemed with each coming week that these lines formed deeper and deeper grooves on his forehead.

  He was dressed in fine silken clothing adorned with a bejewelled golden pendant that hung around his neck. Solid gold rings weighed on his fingers. He was surrounded by guards and wore a tunic covered with a coat of arms of a white lion poised on its hind legs, striking the air in front of it with its sharp claws. He was King Armanar, King of Terramis and Custodian of the Council of the Four Realms.

  The King said, “Daylon, Logar has already informed us that the crystal no longer responds to you. That perhaps another has taken control of its visions. What do you think? Is it the work of Gorath?”

  “I don’t know, Sire. My sense is that it’s something else. Perhaps even the crystal itself directing us to this place, this boy. But I advise caution. It is just a vision, and though I am not there, the presence of this boy compels fear and foreboding in me. Of course we cannot ignore it, but at the same time it is unclear whether the boy represents despair or hope.”

  “Logar?”

  The knight shook his head.

  “If I may speak frankly, Sire. I fear His Majesty erred in choosing a Celestinian as his seer. There were many quite capable here in Terramis. In this time when the Four Realms look to us, we have lost sight of Gorath. We are now blind to his plans and movements and instead we are faced by a vision that we cannot decipher and may in fact simply be misdirection. Else Daylon lies, he sees everything still, but is simply selective in his portrayal of what he witnesses. Perhaps his loyalties are now not to Terramis.”

  Daylon stiffened.

  But the King wearily shook his head and raised his hand implying for him to stop. “Logar, I fear you go too far. You are looking for shadows where none exist. I accept your concerns and it is good that each of us can express our true fears and beliefs around this table. Daylon, accept Logar’s words in light of the perils that face us. But do not take them to heart.”

  He turned and gestured to a man to the right of his throne. “My wizard thinks that even after all these years that you are simply a spy sent here by General Shomari to assess our defences and betray our weaknesses to him. That in all these years, your actions have been subtly undermining the defences of Ampheus. He suggests we should kill you and do it quickly.”

  The King laughed to himself, a low rumbling chuckle that emanated from deep within him. “Daylon, how you have managed to forge such friendships in your time here I do not know. But I know you better than all seated here and will without fail speak in your defence.”

  The King gestured to the man standing a few steps behind him. “Captain, fetch an artist. And not the one who painted the Queen last year. He did such an appalling job I almost had his head chopped off. No, an artist from the market that uses charcoal to sketch. Find the best and bring him here.”

  The wizard stepped forward. “My lord, this is ridiculous;
we are wasting time here. Gorath’s armies are massing to the west. We are squandering the council’s time, we should execute this charlatan and continue with our preparations for war.” Irritation flashed across the King’s face and he barked, “Enough, Ladryn. You have advised me well in the past but this time you are mistaken.”

  “Sire, do you not admit the time for war has come and our enemy are at their fiercest and plot against us? They get stronger and stronger day by day and are mobilising their armies, readying themselves for battle.” Ladryn raised a spindly finger at Daylon. “Who knows what the forces of evil will look like.”

  “Quite,” replied Armanar. “But we must not let bonds and friendships formed over the years be undermined by fear and doubt. Else you will see enemies and assassins around every corner.

  “I am King Armanar, leader of the Four Realms of Ancient Earth, the tribes that maintain balance between the four elements that sustain our lands and the lives of those that live here. We have done so for generations and will continue to do so until our last breaths.”

  *

  Armanar had become a young king at seventeen. His father, while not a cruel man, was cold and indifferent to his family. The marriage to Armanar’s mother was arranged. She was of high-ranking birth from Aquamura, and it was considered advantageous for the two realms to strengthen their ties. Trade routes were being established to the nations south of the Aquamuran Sea, and Terramis wanted access to these. In return not all nations were friendly, and so the added weight of Terramis’s military was seen as beneficial to the Aquamuran High Commission. Prince Armanar’s mother was a kind, thoughtful and fun-loving woman. To any other man perhaps the perfect wife. But her husband was already married to the military and preferred the kinship of his fellow soldiers. He had little time for his wife and son, and in the absence of the love from her husband, Armanar’s mother poured all her tenderness and warmth into her son.