Land of the King
Chapter 29: Hyarmendacil
She was hiding under the bed. The scary men had come and attacked her home, so she had run and hid under Daddy's bed.
She didn't know what had happened to her daddy or her older brothers. Allana was scared.
She had been scared ever since yesterday, when the army of the bad men had showed up. They had thrown these huge rocks at the walls until they had broken.
"Allana, we're going to play a game alright? We're going to play hide and seek alright? And no matter what you must stay hidden, do you understand?" her daddy had said.
"Daddy… I'm scared."
"Just hide alright Allana? There's no need to be scared. I'll come and get you later.
But Daddy had never come. For hours and hours, she had been able to hear the bad men outside her daddy's room. Allana did not know what they were doing, but she knew whatever the bad men were doing could not be good.
Suddenly, she heard the door open and Allana's fear intensified.
Cowering, she forced herself as close to the wall as she could under the bed, desperate to avoid notice.
From under the bed, she could easily see the bad men's legs.
Almost holding her breath, Allana was frozen in place when one of the bad men looked under the bed and saw her.
She was so scared, she couldn't even scream.
"Hey there. You can come out. We won't hurt you."
Allana could not believe what the bad man was saying, but she had no choice.
Slowly she crawled out from under the bed and saw two bad men standing in front of her.
Hiding her fear, she stood tall and stared into their grey and brown eyes with her own sapphire-blue ones.
"What's your name little one?" the other bad man said, the one with grey eyes.
"I'm Allana. Allana Durrandon," she said proudly, not letting her fear show.
The grey-eyed man smiled at her.
"Nice to meet you Allana. My name is Celeb and this is my friend Mallor. Would you mind coming with us so we can take care of you."
"No! I don't trust you! You're with the bad men!"
Celeb's smile remained in place, "Maybe but I swear we won't let anything happen to you."
Reluctantly, Allana asked, "Do you promise?" Swear you'll stay outside for a thousand storms if you don't," Allana said, referring to an old pinky promise in the Stormlands for children.
"Yes I promise. I'll stand outside for a thousand storms and I'll endure the feeling of the cold rain upon my skin, the terrifying rumble of the thunder and the blinding sight of the lightning if I don't keep my promise," Celeb said as he gave her his hand, surprising Allana with his knowledge of the full line.
Satisfied with his promise but still wary, Allana took his outreached hand and followed him out of the room.
Fifty-eight years and she could still recall with perfect clarity the day Celeb and Mallor had saved her.
Allana would later discover that all her family had died in the siege and as an orphaned eight-year old, had attached herself to her two saviours as closely as she could.
In time, they had become her new family. One the love of her life and the other, the closest thing to a father she had left.
Yet it was a bitter fruit that she had partaken of. As the years passed and she aged swiftly, Allana looked upon her new family and saw them remaining as youthful as the day she had met them.
Even her own children, had ceased aging entirely once they reached twenty-five, and would remain that way until they were ten times that age.
But not for Allana, daughter of storms. No, her fate was to wither away long before any of her family.
"Lady Durrandon."
Allana turned around to see Prince Beleg, Crown Prince of Arnor. Yet she knew not why he had called out to her.
Though Allana was close to King Argeleb, the same could not be said for his eldest son and heir or any of his true children either.
Beleg especially could not understand his father's attachment to her and disapproved of his overly close relationship with his former ward. Yet despite that, their relationship had been cordial enough but Beleg had always remained distant from her, little more than a stranger.
"You helped my father didn't you?"
Ah. Now she understood.
"I was simply doing my duty to our king."
Beleg did not believe her but he said nothing on that. "Whatever your reasons were, thank you. Whatever you said to him changed something in him. He's more like his old self now, before Grandfather died. You have my gratitude Lady Allana."
And as curtly as he had come, the Prince of Arnor left her alone to her thoughts.
With a great charge, the knights of Arnor descended upon the host of Starfall. Argeleb lead the charge upon his steed, Shadowmane.
They took their foe unaware, crashing into their rear. Emboldened by their reinforcements, the defenders of the city fought harder to drive their enemy from the walls.
But the commander of Starfall was no ordinary man. He was Samwell Dayne, the Starfire, the Sword of the Morning. He would not surrender when victory had been so near.
What remained of the Torrentine Army rallied to their king and made to break out of the Arnorian encirclement and flee back to Starfall.
In the midst of the battlefield chaos, Argeleb 's faithful steed was pierced through the heart with a spear and slain. Argeleb fell from his horse, avoiding any severe injuries through sheer luck. Yet he was not spared grief as he looked upon his fallen steed, but there was no time to mourn.
He was separated now from his Royal Guard, and before him the Starfire approached.
Pale as milkglass, Dawn looked beautiful in the hands of the Starfire. But beauty can kill, and Argeleb knew all too well that the blade was strong and sharp, waiting to take his life.
Yet Argeleb was not without his own weapon, and in a single fluid motion, he drew Narsil from its scabbard.
"So, the King of Arnor stands before me. You are as impressive as your reputation makes you out to be," the Starfire said.
"So are you, Dayne," Argeleb replied.
They remained there for a while, circling each other with their guards up and their two famed blades at the ready.
"You can still yield. I swear you will know mercy," Argeleb said.
"And submit my life to the whims of another? Tell me, Arnorian, as a king yourself could you ever bring yourself to do that?"
Argeleb shook his head.
"Then as one king to another, I am glad that we are in understanding," Samwell said, resigned but also eager for battle.
With a sudden lunge, the Starfire went on the offense, attempting a quick thrust. It was deftly deflected by Argeleb with a backhand swipe.
With his opponent's blade safely deflected away, Argeleb made for a killing blow with Narsil but was forced to block at the last moment by the sudden recovery of Samwell.
Pushed back, Argeleb examined his foe.
I see. His title as Sword of the Morning was rightfully earned and not simply self-bestowed.
"Well then", thought Argeleb, a smirk upon his face.
The Starfire was incredibly skilled, but against a scion of Númenor who had trained in the art of war for well over a century now, he was simply outclassed.
With a barrage of lightning swift attacks, Argeleb seized the initiative
The skill of a Sword of the Morning could not be underestimated, and the young Dayne and successfully parried many strokes from Argeleb. But he was not perfect, every now and then, he would fail to properly parry a stroke from his foe and be nicked by his blade. If he could not end the duel soon, he would succumb to a death by thousand cuts.
Argeleb for his own part was not unscathed, yet his experience shone through, allowing him to control the duel and give more than he got.
For almost an hour the two kings would duel, both desperately trying to take and keep control of their duel. Narsil and Dawn would clash against each other countless times, the two legendary blades singing a song of steel in their constant parries and strokes.
Around the two kings, the battle had turned against the Dornish entirely as the garrison of Hyarmenna drove the invaders from the wall and sallied forth from the gates to join the royal army in pursuing their enemy.
As he saw the tide turn against his armies entirely, Samwell Dayne was filled with a desperate energy and attacked the King of Arnor with a renewed fervor. Yet with every stroke, he could feel his strength fading.
Finally, out of desperation, he attempted a final dangerous move. As a last ditch effort, he attempted an overhand strike from his right and used the momentum of his enemy's parry to redirect his blade and slash Argeleb with an underhand from his left.
A sense of triumph filled the Starfire as he felt his blade cutting through the chainmail of his foe and cutting into his flesh. But his triumph was short-lived as he felt a blade piercing through his abdomen below.
Disbelieving, the Sword of the Morning dropped his famous blade upon the dirt. He was so incapacitated by the pain that he could no longer hold his sword.
On the battlefield, experience was everything and Argeleb had defended against and used the very same technique thousands of times more than the young Dayne had. So when he had seen him using it, he had known exactly what to do.
Yet for all of his experience, even Argeleb had underestimated the strength and sharpness of Dawn and had almost feared for his life when the blade had sheared through his chainmail armour, the finest and strongest Arnor had to offer.
But the Starfire had not the strength left to capitalise on his foe's mistake and though he had slashed through the armour, Dawn had left nothing but a slight though long gash on Argeleb's torso. And in the very next moment, Argeleb had run Samwell through with Narsil.
Slowly, Argeleb withdrew Narsil from Samwell's body and he fell to the ground.
As an act of respect, Argeleb placed Dawn in the dying king's hands and watched as he passed on from this world.
Around the battlefield, the army of Arnor emerged victorious over their foes. The Dayne soldiers had broken upon seeing their king defeated, with many fleeing and others surrendering.
The Arnorian army however saw their king victorious and cheered, and as he raised Elendil's sword aloft in a show of strength and victory they cried out "Dacil! Dacil!" meaning "Victor, Victor!"
1994 E.L., fourteen years after the death of the Starfire
His victory at Hyarmenna had been glorious, but it would not be the last. Immediately after, Argeleb had taken his army and ridden down the survivors of the Starfire's army, slaying or capturing all for their attack on Arnor.
Then Argeleb had lead his army onwards to Starfall where he laid his foe to rest. Out of respect to House Dayne, Argeleb had returned Dawn to its stand to await the next Sword of the Morning and then accepted the homage of Arron Dayne, son of Samwell, and the new King of the Torrentine.
He had rested for a while in Arcalen, before leading great armies through the Wide Way and bringing all of Dorne from the Red Mountains to the mouth of the Greenblood under his suzerainty, compelling its kings to do him homage and pay him tribute and forcing them to send their sons as hostages to his court to ensure they would not dare rebel.
As a further act of insurance, he had built the Towers of the Teeth, Narchost and Carchost at the pass of the Wide Way. They, like many others also built, were great fortresses and watchtowers built to watch the Dornish passes and ensure that the Dornish could never raid and attack his people again.
With every victory, his men had cheered him more and more and eventually Argeleb would take the name they had given him, 'Hyarmendacil,' or South-Victor, as part of his own regnal title.
Argeleb had avenged his father, but more importantly he had protected his people and ensured that no one else would ever lose a loved one to a Dornish raid.
Yet some deaths could never be prevented, even with military might or great fortresses. This was a lesson Ar-Pharazôn had learned the hard way millennia ago and one Argeleb himself had learned when word had come from Raumgûr of the passing of Lady Allana Durrandon.
She was old. Four score years was no small age for lesser men and in truth it had been expected. Yet that did not dull the pain in any way.
The lives of the Númenóreans were short when compared to the Eldar, and the lives of lesser men shorter even still. It was not the place of men to dwell forever upon the earth for they were only passing through. That was the lesson that his people had to learn over and over again because they kept forgetting.
In the past on Númenor of old, they had seen not how blessed they already were and they had envied the Eldar who had immortal life. Here in Westeros with no Eldar to envy, they had become even more arrogant and saw themselves as superior to all other races.
Argeleb could not help but feel concerned for the future of Arnor. As he thought of the deep and growing divisions in the kingdom, between purist and reformist, pureblooded and halfblooded, Númenórean and non-Númenórean, he feared that one day, war was all but inevitable.
Author's Note: This is the last chapter before we begin the next arc. You know, the big one. "You know the rules and so do I"
Perhaps the reason why these chapters have come so fast is because I've been quite excited for the next arc to finally come out. Stay tuned for the next part in the Saga of the Land of the King.
Reminder that Prince Beleg is the future Arveleg I. For details on his reign, please refer to Annals of Kings II.
