Lands of Darkness

[Tempor]

Hey East!!

Just read the final chapter. Great job man! Excellent as usual. I have made a combilation of the whole thing and I was hoping to continue my collection.

Keep up the good work dude, and alas for what will (hopefully) befell on the Russians...

[ChrisiusMaximus]

More please

[vovan]

Yeah, East, you know what time it is? It's time to ship some more goods.

[TheGuitarist]

I'm so glad you're finally continuing this story. I've been reading it from the first post, WAY back in the day, and it's gotten better and better.

Everything is awesome, especially the battle scenes. I agree with Chrisius, if this were ever published as a novel I would buy like five copies and tell all my friends.

Keep it up, and soon!!

[Easthaven I]

I know its late, but I haven't had one ounce of spare time but with the spare time I had I did write. I'm pretty caught up, and have decided to post two sections in the span of every three days, so about two sets of two every week. This way I get a chance to take my time to write while I already have the goods ready to go, and still have a chance to edit and stuff. This way I'm always ahead of the game and you guys are not waiting anymore. So I have about eight installments on its way to get posted up, but I won't post them until they're scheduled to. Here's two installments, alrighty then, thanks for your patience. The next set of two will come this weekend. I hope my absence didn't piss you guys off and turn you off from the story.

[Easthaven I]

Lands of Darkness

Prelude to March on Persepolis
September 16, 1468AD
Persian Camp, Ergili River

“We’ve had enough time to recuperate, Eleazer.” Cornelius said as he sat, contemplating the next turn of events, “It is time we decamp and move out.”

“Yes, you told me yesterday. But pray, tell me we are going to Persepolis.” The mountain man urged as he leaned forward in anticipation.

Cornelius met Eleazer’s gaze as a grin appeared on his face, “We march on Persepolis.”

“Heheh, yes my brother. Now we shall take this war to a new level.” Eleazer said in satisfaction.

Just then, Belisarius entered the tent.

“General Belisarius, reporting as ordered, my lord.” He said as he stood at attention.

“Yes…how are you Belisarius?” Cornelius asked.

“I am good, Captain General. More than ready to kill plenty of more Russians, my lord.” He said with a slight grin and twinkle in the eye.

“Good. Send the order for the camp to pack up and be ready for march by noon. You will be in charge of the advanced guard and scouts. Eleazer is allowing 2,000 of his cavalry to be placed under your command, along with 1,000 of our own. Be sure to have your best riders scout ahead. Once you are ready you may move out, but keep within an hour’s march of us. We make for the Ergili Pass.” Cornelius ordered.

“Yes my lord.”

Cornelius nodded. “You’ll do fine, General. You’re dismissed.”

Belisarius saluted and exited.

“He’s turned out to be one hell of a commander, Cornelius.” Eleazer said after Belisarius departed.

“Yes he has, Eleazer. And you do not have to say it. I know and remember.” Cornelius lifted his hand and looked away, towards the map on his table.

After a slight pause, Eleazer interrupted the silence with a grin, “I told you so.”

Suddenly, the tent entrance opened once again as the morning sun unexpectedly shined through. Its face momentarily escaping the cloak of the shadow of the storm.

“General Datis reporting, sir.” Datis articulated as he stood at attention, much like his comrade moments ago.

“Datis, you commanded superbly in battle, well done.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“No severe wounds, I hope?”

“No, Captain General. Nothing more worse than the wounds I received as a child.”

Cornelius smiled and nodded.

“That is good, Datis, that is good. Eleazer is allowing 1,000 of his cavalry to be placed under your command along with the 400 already under you. You will be in charge of protecting and scouting our flanks. Do you have any requests or needs for your men?” Cornelius asked.

“No, sir.”

“Good, we march on Persepolis today, Datis. Get your men ready.”

“Yes my lord.”

“Oh yes, and could you send Hasduman in here on your way out.”

“Yes.”

Hasduman soon entered after Datis’ departure.

“Hasduman, my friend. I would like you to command the Immortals. It’s usually the job of my own under Fornalin, but it would be better to place the command unto you for detail. 200 of them will remain as my guard with you at my side. 100 will be placed as a branch of Belisarius’ cavalry arm, while remaining under your command. The other 100 should be placed with the foot soldiers, to instill more discipline and moral.”

“Yes, Cornelius. As you wish.”

Hasduman bowed and turned towards the door. Then nodded to Eleazer, “Mr. Phoenix, always a pleasure.” He winked and walked out.

Eleazer laughed.

“Hahaha. I love Hasduman, always does he bring laughter to my soul. Hahaha!”

[Easthaven I]

Lands of Darkness

Departure from Fort Kiersk
September 16th, 1468AD
Russian Fort Kiersk, (southwest of and near Arbela)

“eighty-eight…eighty-nine…ninety…” Fornalin counted, each time his head came up above the water.

After he had told his captors about himself, they stopped the torture and began feeding him regularly. Though, the amount of rice, bread and water given was still nothing to brag about. But he knew how to ration it and he regained his muscle tone. His strength returned with a new rekindled flame, his mind was focused and sharper than any blade he ever wielded. He exercised enough to keep his muscle tone but not overly done to the extent that his body used up more energy than the nutrients that he received daily could provide. But never did he show the guards or interrogator his regaining strength, ever was he weak when they were around to be witness. And now the day had come…

“one hundred five…one hundred six…eh” he gasped as he did the last push up. He sat back against the wall, in the water and in the dark.

Then the door to his cell opened with a moan. Three men stood in the entrance, the middle one with a torch in his hand. Fornalin’s eyes adjusted as he noticed the middle man was Suvorov, the Russian Commander.

“The time has come for your departure, Persian king. Archduke Frederick has ordered your immediate deliverance to Moscow.”

Each guard waded through the water and shackled Fornalin’s hands and feet. They grabbed him on each side and began dragging him through the door. Suvorov led the way through the passage ways, Fornalin, dragged by the two guards, followed behind.

They finally emerged from the dungeons and made their way to the Fort entrance, where a company of Russian soldiers awaited them. Nearly two hundred and fifty did they number. They approached a wagon in the middle, it was roofless but with bars protruding its perimeter like a portable prison cell.

“Put him in there.” Suvorov barked.

Without much care, they threw the Persian king into the wagon and locked the gate. Fornalin, pretending to be on the verge of unconsciousness, peeked about unnoticeably. He noticed ten other Persians, shackled together in a line, five on each of his flank. Marcus Brancus among them.

“Kalish, you make sure this man gets to Persepolis safely. There you will give him to Captain Zhuko, he will take him the rest of the way to Moscow, by order of Archduke Frederick.” Suvorov said to a younger Russian commander, presumably the man in charge of the transportation operation.

“Yes, my lord. But why was it not an order of the King? But instead from his grandson?” Kalish replied.

Suvorov lowered his voice, “It seems the King has taken ill. He is quite old, ninety-five years I believe. Besides, it isn’t any of your concern of where the order came from, but from a man more important than yourself.”

“Yes, my lord.” Kalish said as he turned towards another Russian, “Captain, ready your company, we move out.”

Suvorov walked over towards Fornalin and gripped one of the bars, “You are quite lucky if you fall into the hands of the Archduke rather than the King. The old man would probably castrate you and make you suffer a thousand times worse than any torture we put you through. But the Archduke seems more prudent and wise, and although I don’t like his lack of…what’s the word…fortitude, I do believe he will find a way to use you as a pawn to help him defeat his enemies. That, I must admit, is a strength of his. He is no fool, and reckless he knows not.”
The Fort Kiersk commander then walked away, back to his duties.

The gates were opened, and the company began its march.

[Easthaven I]

Major Roads of Persia and Fort Kiersk location...

[vovan]

W00t! More goods from good ol' East?

I like the quality, the quantity, and the map. Keep it up.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

its good to see you back , great addittions nicely leading us to the continuation of this superb story

[Easthaven I]

Lands of Darkness

Archduke Frederick
September 19th, 1468AD
The Kremlin, Moscow

King Alexander sat under a gazebo drinking tea with his three grandsons: Prince Konev, Archduke Memel, and Archduke Frederick. The two elder grandsons sat on each side of their grandfather, while Frederick leaned on the gazebo to the side. King Alexander was very old, yet still remained more coherent than expected of a man of his age. His eldest grandson was the heir, for Alexander outlived his own son. It is a wonder how such a cruel ruler could live so long and reign without contest or defeat. King Alexander took the throne at age 17 and began his conquests. A brilliant conqueror he was, but a merciless one. He was impulsive and arrogant. He thought himself superior to all and seemed to think that other people of the world were created to bend to his will and serve him without question. This is why his two eldest sons were always his favorites for they possessed the same mentality, and Frederick was his ‘misguided’ grandson who he always hoped would change to his liking. Frederick was always the outcast of the family, his personality seemed to have come from another gene pool entirely. He was the only prudent, patient, man of calculation of the family. He even looked different for his hair was dark and he was the tall, while his brothers’ hair were golden and their height stunted.

But his grandfather would never take his life, nor banish him for hope of that change. Frederick remained a man of power much like his brothers, but that would soon change at the death of the king and the enthronement of his brother, for they swore to end his life when the kingship was theirs.

Although his own family did not like him, everybody else did. His personality had a humble charm that others just couldn’t bring themselves to hate or dislike. His never-ending talents of mind and body brought earned respect, and his modesty bought loyalty.

“Eck…this tea is too sweet!” King Alexander spurted out as he coughed.

“I will bring another cup, Grandfather.” Prince Konev said, as he waved to a servant.

“I’ve been King for over three-quarters of a century, you would think they can get it right by now.” King Alexander said under his golden gray beard.

“Yes, I know.” Archduke Memel agreed.

“So what news of the rebels in Persia?” The king asked as he squinted at his tea.

“We do not yet rightly know, Grandfather. We know there has been a battle on the other side of the Ergili Mountains, but we have not yet received word from General Bera or of the results of the battle.” Prince Konev replied before sipping his cup of tea.

The servant arrived replacing the king’s cup of tea with another, as the seated grandsons gave him dirty looks.

King Alexander suddenly erupted in a spasm of coughing ending in him coughing up blood to the side. He breathed deeply as he wiped his mouth.

“Are you alright, Grandfather.” One of his favorite grandsons said as they moved to aid him. Frederick remained unmoved as he leaned on the post, watching.

“I’m fine! Let me be.” King Alexander barked as he pushed them away. They sat back down, somewhat hurt. “I have never lost a battle, I will not lose one to age!”

Just then a soldier came up with a message in his hand.

“A message from the front, your majesty.” The soldier said as he bowed nearly to his knees. He presented the slip of paper, Archduke Memel, being the closest, grabbed it.

“You are dismissed.” Prince Konev ordered the soldier. The soldier departed as quickly as he had arrived.

Everyone waited as Memel read the note, all waiting in anticipation and curiosity. Frederick raised an eyebrow with a renewed interest.

“Well! What does it say, Memel.” King Alexander said in between coughs.

Memel’s eyes widened in shock, his facial expression slowly changing as his eyes moved across the message. He finally finished and looked up to his grandfather, seemingly in fear.

“General Bera’s army…it has been destroyed.” Memel said, “the Persian army remains intact and in fact stronger than anticipated.”

“What! Give me that!” Prince Konev yanked the slip from his brother’s hands and began reading it to confirm.

King Alexander’s face began to turn pink.

“How does a professional experienced army, “King Alexander began, his voice raising with each syllable, “get annihilated by a smaller rebel force! Persians, I might add! The same people…no no…weaker than the people who buckled under our will a couple of decades ago!” he swept the cups of tea off the table, sending them crashing to the earth. He began coughing again.

Frederick remained unmoved as he watched.

“Find out who is responsible for this! Tell me the rebel leader’s name, I want his head!” he exclaimed.

“He is Fornalin Varha.” The outcast spoke.

The King’s temper cooled, and his attention shifted to his youngest grandson, the man who never seemed to do anything his way...the ‘right’ way.

“What?” The king asked.

“He is the leader. The heir to the Persian throne. The youngest son of King Elias. The man, who like you, has never lost a battle. Well…until recently.” Frederick said.

King Alexander sat silently until a cough erupted from his throat. “Ahem…how do you know this, Frederick?” he asked.

“I know this because our men have captured him. At this very moment he is on his way here.” Frederick answered as he shifted his weight off of the post he was leaning on.

“heh…it is about time you do something right Frederick. Well done.” King Alexander smiled. “I shall take pleasure in his torture.”

The other grandsons merely held a blank expression as a sting of jealousy hit them. But they kept their cool. They just had to wait a little longer for the old man to croak, and with him Frederick would go, too.

“I was merely doing the logical.” Frederick said, regretting telling his grandfather the news, but in relief that he did not tell him about another important and influential person he had in his secret custody.

King Alexander erupted into another spasm of coughing out blood.

“Grandfather, you should rest.” Prince Konev pleaded, his brother nodding in agreement.

“You are right. I think I shall go back to my bed chamber. But before I go, be sure to prepare reinforcements to send to General Malenko, I want his wave to be the last and I want it to wipe Persia out of existence. Something we should have done long ago.” King Alexander was then lead back by Memel.

Frederick remained where he stood. Prince Konev stood on the other side of the gazebo, glaring at his brother.

“Brother, you should have told us about the Persian captive. Do you think you’re better than us? It sure seems so. You think you’re so noble and good, you are a disgrace and should not have the power of even a servant. But I swear to you, you will not hold so much power when I become King and you best bow down to me then.” He then began walking off.

Frederick finally moved, he reached out and grabbed Konev’s arm with a hurtful grip and pulled him close.

“You’re wrong. I don’t think I’m better than you, I AM better than you. And do not think for a second that I will ever bow down to you! For if I ever do, it will be to spit on your rotting carcass.” He whispered in his brother’s ear.

He loosened his grip for a second then tightened it again to whisper a last remark.

“And do not call me brother…ever.” He then pushed him away. He stared at Konev with the eyes of an enemy.

Konev began walking away. “You will regret having said that once Grandfather has died. You will regret many things, my younger brother.” He was soon gone from the garden, Frederick stood alone.

The King looked out his window and witnessed the whole event. “Poor Frederick, not a clue do you have of your fate once I am gone. It is a shame your spirit is so weak that your own brothers will take your life after my death. Such a weak, soft, man you are, too kind to people you should rule, and too foolish with people you should serve. You would not have lived to manhood, if it weren’t for the protection of your King. It may be best for you to die, and let my kingdom be led by the hard.” King Alexander shook his head in disappointment as he went to his bed, and laid to sleep…for the last time.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Lovely simply lovely stuff East

[unscratchedfoot]

Yes, very peachy to be sure. Good stuff to the East.

More grease to your elbow.

[Tempor]

it appears that the "peach" speech has gone down in the books of history; right scratchy?

East, excellent work, as always. I'm so glad you continue with the story. Keep up the good work dude!

[ChrisiusMaximus]

East baby where are you, dont leave us hanging on like this man, its excrutiating

BTW Fight for Freedom's finished up, I would appreciate your thoughts and critique