Disclaimers as per previous chapters.
Dragon-of-the-north: I'm glad that Alagaith worked well. I'm glad you got all of that out of the chapter, because it was one of the thematic heavyweights, while this one, for better or worse, is largely just plot vehicle and setup for subsequent events.
Lady LeBeau: If you thought his Pelennor Fields dream was weird… I'm quite glad, though, that hope and inevitability are clashing so heavily in your reaction to this as a reader. It means I've done my job properly.

Wings of the Storm, Chapter XV- To the Edge

Soldiers slowly trickled out of Rising Sun over the next hour or so, driven back not by the folk they had mercilessly slaughtered but by the fires they had spread. Some made a point of not fraternizing with those who had abstained, but others did so, trying to justify their actions while also seeking to put the day's events behind them and again convince themselves that Graldor was a good king and worth following. By the time the King himself had emerged and began leading everyone back to Aratur, the consensus was that Graldor should not be blamed for the inflammatory advice given him by Wyslun. This group adopted Halin as its ad hoc leader, and he, on their behalf, took the King aside as they followed the orc tracks south and recommended taking disciplinary action against Wyslun, though Graldor was noncommittal.

Caldrion himself made no attempt to approach Graldor yet. He needed to do so before they reached Aratur, but was hesitating because, though he could not tell his friend, he was coming to the conclusion that he and his family must leave Aratur for their safety and sanity. Despite what he had told the elves earlier, if he had to choose between his purpose and his family, he would take his family any day. The next question was how and when to leave Aratur, followed shortly by that of where they would go, but all of those could not be decided until he had consulted with his wife.

The massacre at Rising Sun, however, had not cleared Caldrion's mind of dreams. This one was particularly vivid and was not just close to home but in fact at home. He saw three large males walking into his house at night, all of them armed with knives but none of them actually wielding them, instead intending to use their strong fists to enforce their will. Teorand had been dead five days, and Othcyr had yet to leave her house so they could punish her. Finally, they decided to take a more active approach and come to her, intending to taint her as her father had tainted Teorand's aunt, thereby scarring him. As vengeance, it would be quite suitable and had the added benefit of being pleasurable for Pustel, Sceafles, and Thwine.

Caldrion watched in horror, unable to yell out a warning as the assailants arrayed themselves around Othcyr's bed. As the other two assumed positions to either side of the foot of the bed, Thwine clapped his hand over her mouth. That proved to be a mistake. Her eyes flashed open and she began flailing her limbs before they could be pinned down. She put her right hand in Thwine's face and dug her fingers into his eyes. He tried to pull away from her grip and she let him do so only after violently twisting his head to the side, painfully straining his neck.

Meanwhile, she had succeeded in kicking off the blanket and had delivered a fairly hard blow to Pustel's face. Sceafles was hesitating, which gave her time to prepare herself. He chose to lunge on her, which was also something of a mistake given that she had pulled her knife out from under her pillow while his remained in its sheath. She struck toward his groin, but he saw it coming and rolled away enough that the blow instead landed in his thigh, cutting quite deep. As he added his yells of pain to Othcyr's screams for help, Catrilas came running in and Caldrion thought he saw stirrings from the other children's beds.

Catrilas was unarmed, or at least did not have a weapon out. That was yet another significant mistake. Thwine, having already unsheathed his knife, turned and grabbed her, placing the knife at her neck as he held her from behind. Othcyr had now moved to a sitting position and was holding her knife to keep Pustel at bay while Sceafles, having been kicked off the bed, lay writhing in pain on the floor.

Thwine addressed Othcyr before she could hurt his companions any more. "Drop the knife, bitch, and stop resisting, or we'll take your mother too." Even in the almost entirely dark room, Catrilas paled visibly and Othcyr looked sickened and even more outraged. She could defend herself well enough, but to threaten her mother with that was absolutely evil. Caldrion could see the decision on his daughter's face; she would not even risk the possibility of Catrilas having to go through that again. He fervently hoped that one of his sons would be wise enough to find some armed men, even if they were only the few farmers charged with defending the gates, instead of trying to fight.

As Othcyr cast down her bloody knife on the bed, thereby surrendering to her assailants, a scream somewhere near Caldrion's ear brought him back to the present. Aeschen was yelling in his sleep, but Caldrion groggily managed to shake him awake before the entire camp stirred. When Caldrion asked him what was wrong, he stared at Caldrion for a bit before simply answering "Nightmare," to which Caldrion replied "Me too."

Deeply troubled by the dream but knowing that, true or not, he would be in no position to deal with it until they reached Aratur, Caldrion did his best to put it out of his mind as they continued their monotonous trip south, their spirits rather low after having defeated a foe that may not have needed defeating and returning with little to show for it. The Army was now pretty much broken into two factions: those who, feeling guilty about the massacre, blamed Wyslun and absolved the King, and those who insisted that the massacre was necessary. While they remained united behind the King, several scuffles had broken out that seemed to indicate deep division. Such division would require Graldor to affect formal resolution to prevent further violence, something that he showed no inclination to do. Meanwhile, the return of Frealine and Smosur with their commands only complicated matters; Frealine was genuinely appalled and made no attempt to hide his feelings, while Smosur quickly moved to defend his old friend Wyslun, thus exacerbating the already tense division as, having not been present, he did not let the facts stand in the way of his interpretation of events, which among other things made Graldor look weak and Caldrion seem a traitor.

At least Graldor showed the inclination to talk with Caldrion, approaching him one evening and addressing him bluntly. "Look, Caldrion, you are my friend and I value your advice, but you cannot question my decisions in front of the men like that." His expression became sterner and his tone changed from addressing an equal to addressing a subordinate. "A King must be able to give orders and know they will be properly and successfully carried out. If you fail me again, I will have to find a new commander."

Caldrion nodded, trying to keep his expression contrite. This was actually less than what he had feared, and the lack of immediate punishment plus his intention to not linger any longer in Aratur than he had to made him bold. "If I cannot ask you in front of the men, may I now ask you why?"

Graldor sighed. "You are too willing to believe the good of people. It is hard for me to blame you for that, but you cannot believe that someone is true just because she says she is. No ragtag group of slaves could have defeated the orcs; the two groups must have colluded to affect our downfall. This Osda, who might have been a good match for me were she not so treacherous, must have made a deal with the orcs, who surrendered that village in exchange for the opportunity to conquer my Kingdom. She probably hoped that the battle between us and the orcs would kill most of the warriors on both sides, allowing her to assume the control of the plains that is rightfully mine." He shook his head. "I should not have been so kind as to offer them mercy in the first place; they would have infiltrated Aratur and revolted against me." He paused. "Assuming, that is, that there were not orcs hiding in the town that would attack us once the humans had lulled us into a sense of complacency."

Graldor shrugged. "What else was I to do?" He then thrust a hand in his pocket and stalked off, like a child who knows that he has done wrong but also realizes that he cannot be punished. Caldrion just sighed, wondering what madness had overtaken his King; one cannot build an empire by slaughtering substantial numbers of potential subjects or yielding to logic as flimsy as that.

-

Despite the psychological weight of the massacre and the physical pain and weariness from riding so much, the Army did manage to raise a cheer when Aratur came into view, at which point those soldiers who lived in Hillguard turned aside to return to their homes and families.

Surprisingly and somewhat ominously, no farmers stood guard at the gates. Whatever else was going on in Graldor's mind, he had not lost his take-action mentality; as everyone dismounted, he divided the men with gestures, ordering some to proceed with him directly to the palace, some to see to the horses, and the rest to fan out through the town to determine what was afoot. Caldrion went with Graldor, as his own abode was on the route Graldor was taking to the palace and he was anxious to confirm the safety of his family. Everyone felt somewhat assured as they saw women and children tentatively emerging from the buildings they passed, but the concern in their faces indicated that something unpleasant was going on. Graldor, unsurprisingly, did not take the time to ask any of his people about whatever was happening but instead continued on. They suddenly heard the clear ring of swords clashing and, turning the corner, observed a disconcerting scene unfolding on the threshold of Caldrion's dwelling.

Several farmers, young and uncoordinated but also angry and armed, were arrayed in a semicircle around an older swordsman who was standing between them and the door and was struggling to defend himself and those behind him despite having more determination than skill. It was Betlin. In the doorway, Eodryn stood with his sword at the ready while Hrethere, Catrilas, and Othcyr, armed with knives or, in Hrethere's case, a bow, were positioned behind him. Betlin was yelling at them not to interfere even as he experienced significant difficulties holding his position and avoiding wounds.

Caldrion began running forward to help Betlin, but Graldor took the easier method of so doing. "In the name of the King, cease and desist!" For the most part, it had the desired effect: Caldrion stopped running, Betlin took a step back and relaxed slightly, and most of his assailants also stood down. One, however, did not and instead took the opportunity to thrust his sword deep into Betlin's side. As Betlin fell over, Caldrion recognized Gripler as his killer. As Catrilas screamed, Graldor ordered the men with him to "Seize them." Most of the farmers did not resist but Gripler and one other ran, each with several soldiers hot in pursuit.

Someone had already gone to find Walame, but Caldrion could tell as he kneeled by Betlin that his friend was a dead man. His face almost unrecognizable owing to the pain, but he took a couple of gasps before expiring. Caldrion was still in shock when his wife pulled him off the ground, drew him tightly to her, and then, after holding him a minute, led him into the house. There he embraced all his children but otherwise remained silent, trying to come to terms, both emotionally and intellectually, with what he had just witnessed.

It was only after a boy ran by, telling him that Gripler had been captured, that he realized that his family was probably in the best position to help him on both levels. When he looked up, he realized that only Othcyr, Eadgla, and Hrethere were with him, but his daughter seemed to read his mind and addressed both his questions before he could ask. "Mom and Eodryn went with Graldor to explain everything. Teorand died while you were gone, and some nights later those stupid friends of his tried to take revenge."

Caldrion started. "They tried to rape you? I was afraid that was more than a dream, especially when Aeschen's cry awoke me right as you dropped your knife. Did you survive… intact?"

Othcyr grinned lopsidedly and shook her head at her Dad's embarrassment. "I'm fine. It's not as though I would have let them do anything; I would have killed all three of them as soon as that ass Thwine let Mom go, but it turned out to be unnecessary. Before any of us could make another move, Eodryn had the point of his sword at Pustel's back and Hrethere had put an arrow through Thwine's shoulder, causing him to drop his knife and letting Mom wrench free." She shook her head with a laugh. "You would have loved the look on Mom's face; I think that Hrethere firing his bow inside the house appalled her even more than being threatened. Anyway, I disarmed the other two, but now we were left with the question of what to do with three men, two of them wounded, who wanted to kill us."

"So I ran and brought the guards from the gate, and they helped us take them to the cells," Hrethere added.

"We put Thwine in the cell with which I am familiar, just because I enjoy the irony. The next morning, of course, the real excitement began. Melgras had been letting the rule of law slide and generally seemed to favor just releasing the captives and pretending nothing had happened, as if that was possible. Unfortunately, more than a few of the farmers seemed to agree with him, though I think that is primarily because they liked our assailants more than us. We were seriously contemplating walking out then and there and heading to Hillguard, but then Betlin stood up. He had been quiet the entire time, and the supporters of Melgras were getting restless for him to just go ahead and release those bastards. But Betlin stood up, showing more courage than I thought him capable of, and asserted the sole right of the King to punish accused criminals, meaning that not only were Teorand's friends wrong in taking 'justice' into their own hands but the others were wrong in seeking their release before the King could judge them. It was perhaps the bravest act I have ever seen, even if more than a few men stood to support him. When Melgras said nothing against him, he ordered our attackers held, put armed farmers whom he trusted to heed his orders in charge of guarding both the prisoners and us, and then took the keys to the cells into his possession, warning everyone than an attack on him would be the same as an attack on the King."

She took a deep breath before continuing. "Despite Betlin's efforts, all of us were still really worried, just hoping that the Army would come back and set everything right before we were forced to flee for our lives. We knew that it was only a matter of time before the other farmers decided they could defy Betlin. He was here, ostensibly visiting but in reality providing us with a daytime guard when Gripler and a few of his friends came. He stood to defend us, telling all of us not to fight so that none could speak against us." Her voice, growing sadder, suddenly broke with a sob. "So he died for us."

Caldrion and Othcyr were still crying when Catrilas and Eodryn returned. Graldor, they reported, was in a mood to kill. "He would have tried all of the rebellious farmers tomorrow. He means to execute the lot of them, and he made that clear enough that more than a few people looked quite perturbed. Fremus convinced him that it was more important to hold the celebratory feast first, so the feast will be two days from now and the trials will commence after that. Speaking of the feast, what happened? None of the soldiers seemed thrilled as though you had won, but the Army certainly looks as though it did not take many casualties."

Caldrion would have been far happier not having to recall those events, but he did for his family's benefit. As their shock at Graldor's actions sunk in, Caldrion also floated his idea for leaving Aratur, and all of them seemed to think it a good one.

-

There were times that Caldrion wished he were just another soldier, and that evening was one of them. He really just wanted to spend time with his family, taking solace in their company as he tried to come to terms with what had recently happened and begin planning for how they would leave Aratur and what they would do once they did so. Unfortunately, Graldor's temper had again reared its ugly head at an inopportune moment and he had to go help the other Aratur-based members of the council address the situation.

Smosur, Melgras, and Halin were assembled in the latter's home. Their discussion ceased when Caldrion entered, and Smosur and Melgras looked at him suspiciously while Halin expressed pleasure that he had joined them and quickly related the latest crisis in Aratur. Apparently Graldor had left the palace shortly after Catrilas and Eodryn did to walk through the town and burn off his anger at the way his kingdom's tranquility had evaporated during his brief absence. Unfortunately, he had, of all the unfortunate coincidences, come across Sceofsen the artisan passionately kissing Caldrion's niece Eoscla. There were no outside witnesses to the confrontation, but Sceofsen had been run through on the spot and Eoscla's hysteria had only ceased when Walame gave her the strongest sleep-inducing drugs in her arsenal.

Halin, fortunately, had the foresight to take advantage of Fremus' knowledge; since the reduction of his 'official' tasks, he had taken a keen interest in the local gossip and was thus in a position to fill Halin in on the background. Apparently, Eoscla had finally consummated her longstanding crush on Graldor a few days before the campaign and was, for good reason, concerned what would happen if she had conceived. After Graldor had refused to even offer her the assurance that such a bastard would be acknowledged, she had asked her close friend Sceofsen to marry her if she should prove to be pregnant. That question seemingly awoke a longstanding attraction between the two and, based on their activities, they appeared to be leaning toward marriage even if Eoscla should prove to have survived her encounter with the King unburdened by child.

The murder of Sceofsen was already having repercussions. Aeschen, who counted Sceofsen as his best friend, was distraught and demanding justice from anyone who would listen, while not heeding the advice to hold his tongue before the King killed him too. This was only exacerbating the already extant grumblings by the farmers who supported Othcyr's attackers. Smosur, who was already irritated by the current of sentiment against Wyslun in the Army, openly questioned Graldor's sanity and fitness to rule, while Melgras, albeit in more temperate terms, expressed his doubt that true justice could be served in the near future.

-

It was obvious that the tensions in Aratur would overwhelm any festivity arising from the feast, especially given that there was not much to celebrate now that the story of the massacre had spread through the non-combatants as well. Caldrion, trying to fill Sirgo's role, had arranged for and led a quiet burial service for Sceofsen, which if nothing else provided Eoscla with a spot on which to mourn outside the walls of the city, where she would not disturb others with her wailing. It was at the feast, however, that the situation was made significantly worse. No one was surprised when Graldor announced that Pustel, Sceafles, Thwine, Gripler, and the other farmers involved in the violence against Othcyr and Betlin would be tried the next day. Everyone was surprised, however, when he ordered Wyslun and Melgras seized from their seats in the hall and imprisoned as traitors, the former for his role in instigating the massacre, the latter for failing to support the King's authority during Graldor's absence. They too would be tried on the morrow, leading to a wave of murmuring that coursed through the hall. This, Caldrion knew, could not be a good thing.

For the first time since rejoining his family, he did not sleep well. Something less than pleasant was afoot, and it was not long after finally getting out of bed in the morning that he found out what. The fact that the Aratur contingent of the Army was assembled in and around the closest thing Aratur had to a town square was alarming enough. The fact that less than two thirds of the men were there was even more alarming. It was again Halin who enlightened Caldrion on the situation: Graldor had been awakened by one of the servants banging on his door. A band of men was attacking the palace; their primary objective seemed to be those imprisoned in the cells, but the King himself might be taken if he lingered in bed. Graldor hastily dressed, grabbed his sword, and donned the ring before going forth, leaving the loyal servant behind even as the screams of other servants pierced the dawn.

Graldor had killed indiscriminately on his way out and, once he had come into the town proper, he set about rousing all the Army. The fact that Caldrion had been allowed to sleep must have been just an oversight on someone's part. After all, once Graldor saw that Caldrion had come, he began to lead the force toward the palace.

His attackers were arrayed outside of it, ready to meet him. It was the remainder of the Army, plus a significant number of farmers. At its head stood Smosur, with Wyslun and Gripler beside him and the other liberated prisoners further back. Among the soldiers Caldrion was appalled and frightened to see Aeschen, with whom he had been friendly.

Without any preamble, Graldor turned to the men behind him: "Kill the mutineers."

"Why listen to this villain?" Smosur's clear voice challenged the men, making them hesitate before he addressed the 'villain' directly. "You are no longer worthy to rule over Aratur and are henceforth deposed." He turned back to those standing behind the King. "Why should we follow the man who ordered the rape and slaughter of innocents…"

"Not that I minded the rape," came a voice from somewhere behind him.

"… and then tried to blame it on a trusted soldier who had done nothing wrong?" Smosur continued, ignoring the comment and the chuckles accompanying it. Caldrion scoffed at that. While Wyslun had not made the decision and did not deserve execution, he was certainly not blameless. "Furthermore," Smosur continued, "he has completely abandoned his duty to provide law and order. He has allowed the cold-blooded murder of one of his farmers to go entirely unpunished while killing another who had committed no crime. I will not be governed by a lying murderer, and none of you should be either!"

Based on the faces of the men, Smosur had not convinced them to turn traitor, but neither did they look enthusiastic about fighting for the King at the moment. Given more time to talk, Smosur might have carried the day, but Graldor gave him none. Putting on the ring, the King let out a blood-curdling scream. The mutineers paled visibly. He stepped forward, pierced Smosur before he could react, and then proceeded to Wyslun, Gripler, and Melgras. The will of Graldor seemed to pour forth from his invisible form, making his loyalists bolder and more focused while terrifying his foes. After a quick fight, Smosur's supporters broke and ran, with Graldor's hot in pursuit.

Simply reacting and not really thinking, Caldrion isolated a target and ran after him. Caldrion did not catch up with him until he cornered himself in an alley near the stables. Caldrion struck at him but he caught the stroke. Upon hearing the ring of clashing swords, Caldrion blinked as though coming out of a dream and realized that the soldier he had chased was Aeschen, who looked furious and ready to kill the man who was once his friend. "How could you fight with him, after what he did to Sceofsen? What had my friend done? Nothing!"

Caldrion set the tip of his sword on the ground. "I will not kill you. Get out of here. It is too late for me, but you can save yourself. Fly!"

Aeschen was shocked, but he too relaxed his sword. "What? Where can I go? I know no other home."

"It matters not. West, East, South… North! Take a horse and go north. That's what all the others are doing."

Aeschen looked puzzled but nodded. He went into the stables, came out quickly, and rode out the gates as Caldrion watched.

Turning back toward the rest of town, he saw more of the faithless traitors running in the direction of the gate and his fury against them returned. Without hesitation, Caldrion lifted his sword and moved to intercept and kill them.