The Three Kings by Slawomir Rapala	Biography and Bibliography
Table of Contents Chapter I: Troubled Tides part 1 of 5

Northern stars slowly faded over the Estate of Lyons, a forested Realm that stretched over a vast peninsula jutting into the ocean in the southernmost part of the Far North. The sun crept into the darkness of night and its rays soon stroked the windswept towers of a great fortress erected atop a crag overlooking the ocean.

Leaving the majestic palace bathed in morning light the sun continued on, exposing timeless forests at the foot of the crude rock and the uncontrollable, sea-frothed swells of the Azmattic Ocean. Ever since the dawn of time, untamed waves had lashed out at the base of the crag as if wanting to bring it down. The giant stood proud and tall, however, as old as world itself, patiently enduring the foaming rage of the restless currents and showing the entire world that much more was needed than the fury of nature to bring it to its knees.

Where the crag ended, splendid columns rose from the ocean and extended far into the frothing water, diminishing with each step until finally disappearing altogether beneath the choppy waves. Handcrafted by the gods themselves, these spectacular works of nature inspired those who glimpsed them and were subject of many Lyonese songs and poems.

Within a short time the sun had risen completely and the spectacular fortress atop the crag was now visible in its entirety. It was a massive building enclosed by sky-scraping walls and surrounded by a deep and treacherous moat that claimed the lives of many who in their vanity believed themselves strong enough to overtake this Lyonese jewel. Needle-like guard towers anchored each corner of the rectangular defence wall and dominated over the stronghold.

Judging from mere appearances, the fortress was impossible to capture, as it was almost completely unreachable. Entry by way of the Azmattic Ocean was impossible because it would force the invaders to climb some half of vertical league over razor-sharp rocks, not to mention that any ship or boat would perish immediately as soon as it came within the vicinity of the shore due to strong tides, furious waves, and invisible underwater reefs.

The more likely route was by way of a gentle slope covered with rolling green pastures where herds of stock grazed from dawn till dusk. Still, few attempted it because one would first have to make way through leagues of virgin forests; dangerous woods occupied by wild beasts, mythic creatures and the legendary Lyonese highlanders whose courage and audacity was reported to match that of the barbaric Vikings.

One had to be a fearless warrior or wizard to find way through the maze of dark forests and to fend off the creatures that dwelt in them. Entire armies were known to have perished in these perilous woods. As a consequence, the only access to the fortress and the city beneath it was by a stone path running along the shore of the ocean and climbing the ridge of the momentous crag. Built at the same time as the palace, it was hundreds of leagues long, readily available to common folk but heavily guarded against all enemies.

The fortress, commonly known as the Jewel of Lyons, was home to the Duke of the Estate, the fearless warlord Vahan. The people of Lyons were tremendously proud of their Jewel and justifiably so, because it was indeed a wonder of the Northern world. Powerful Kings and Lords who visited Duke Vahan looked on in disbelief and with envy. They found difficult to comprehend that a small and politically insignificant Estate had produced such a fine example of architecture.

The stronghold was at once beautiful and threatening; it exuded raw power and refined splendour at the same time, and it inflicted fear in the hearts of the enemies of Estate. The most talented architects of the civilized world had for years directed thousands of hands and the end product was a stronghold that any of the most enlightened Kingdoms of the post-Azmattic world would gladly call their own. Vahan named it the Jewel and rightly so, because had Lyons been a Kingdom, the palace would indeed be the most beautiful gem in her crown.

Duke Vahan was the only ruler in all of the Far North that the Lyonese recognized as their Lord, although the Estate was politically under the control of the Biyackian Empire, situated further in the North. Being little more than an outpost of that ancient Northern Kingdom, Lyons was subject to its laws and to its King.

These days, however, the ruler of the once-powerful Realm, Biyack XIV, looked on his most recent acquisition with growing fear and envy because the power and notorious fame of Vahan, warlord and self-appointed Duke, was growing continually. In fits of fury the aging Monarch cursed the all-powerful Vahan and each day swore to have him killed. His anger was futile, however, because he could do little to limit the influence of the Duke at the present.

Two powerful Viking Kingdoms from the Far North, Arynos and Othar, pressed on his own Northern borders and as time went by it appeared that a bloody conflict was inevitable. Biyack, nicknamed the Cursed due to his well-known ties with the Underworld, feared losing his throne and focused mainly on defending his own borders.

All the while he continued peace-talks with the barbarous Vikings, bribing them with goods and gold and buying himself more time to gather troops and raise an army. Lyons, then, remained free of his rule for the time, although officially it still remained a part of the ancient Kingdom. In everyday reality, however, and as far as anyone was concerned, it was Duke Vahan who was the ultimate and unquestionable authority.

As the sun traveled further up the sky the city of Hvoxx that rested at the base of the stronghold, was slowly shaking the stillness and the darkness of night off its dusty shoulders and beginning to wake. Although heavy morning mists still hung over the fortress and though the silence there was only interrupted by words exchanged by guards when they relieved one another off duty, the innkeepers of Hvoxx were already opening their inns and the shops that lined the streets. Vendors foreign to the Capital, who only recently came to seek business and profit, they laid their commodities right out on the dusty roads.

Within a short time Hvoxx was fully awake and wherever one looked there were crowds of people hurrying on about their daily routines, stopping only to exchange a few words before moving on. The noise level rose with each passing moment as more and more individuals joined the everyday life. But the thick walls of the stronghold shielded its inhabitants from the sounds of the outside world, so nothing broke the magical silence hanging over the castle, its gardens and alleys and squares, all locked within the rectangle of insurmountable walls.

Proceed to part 2...

Copyright © 2008 by Slawomir Rapala