Free Two Heirs (The Marmoros Trilogy Book 1) by Peter Kenson Page A

became fabulously rich and the world became jealous.”
    “What happened?” he prompted.
    “Treachery, my lord. We were betrayed from within. There was no easy way into the valley for wagons or horses. However, at the western end of the valley, the Savage River exits through a narrow gorge. Alongside the river, the earliest settlers had found, or maybe dug, nobody knows for certain, a narrow tunnel that allowed access on foot to the valley. It was about a hundred paces long, cut through solid rock. Later generations extended this tunnel to allow horses and wagons to pass through and sealed either end of the tunnel with massive gates that were supposed to be impregnable.
    “When the warlord Krantos came to the valley looking to steal our wealth, we closed the gates and sat there laughing at him, secure behind our fortifications. But one of the members of the High Council had ambitions to be king. He made a bargain with Krantos and showed him a secret pathway through the foothills. Krantos sent round a small band of elite warriors who attacked the gates from the inside, surprising and overpowering the guards. They opened the gates and the rest of Krantos’ army came pouring through.”
    “And did Krantos keep his bargain?”
    “What, that one? No chance. He killed the king, my husband’s grandfather, and every member of the High Council, including the one who had betrayed us. He forced all the families to leave the valley and killed anyone who resisted. We have never been back since. Never been allowed back.”
    “And this Krantos still controls the valley?”
    “Not Krantos, he’s long dead. It’s his grandson Kraxis who rules there now. From all reports he’s even worse than his grandfather. They’ve taken control of the town of High Falls, the only place where the Savage River can be forded west of the valley and they plunder, or in their terms, exact tolls on every trade caravan that passes through.”
    “So your husband is now the King of the Lyenar?”
    “He doesn’t use that title. No one has used that title since our people were expelled from the valley. He is just Lord Brantyen, leader of the Lyenar and head of the council. He is a very proud man and refuses to be known as the king-in-exile.”
    “And all of your people are in this village over the hilltop?”
    “Oh no, by no means. Without leaders, the people scattered in all directions after the exodus. Gradually, family groups banded together for security, met up with returning trading caravans and coalesced into larger groups. My Lord Brantyen’s group is the largest of these but there are two other major groups of families, villages as you call them. And there are many other families who still travel independently to trade across all the regions.”
    Their discussion was interrupted by the sight of the scout on point suddenly appearing over the brow of the hill and galloping down towards them. Held raised his hand to signal the column to stop and waited for the scout to reach them. Bern trotted his horse up to join them and listen to the report.
    “There’s something wrong in the village, milord. There were lots of people in view but none of them appeared to be working. They were just standing around in groups and looked as though they were arguing. They had lookouts posted on the outskirts of the village, which is unusual in itself. As soon as they saw me, they raised the alarm and there was absolute panic down there. The women started screaming and disappeared into tents and wagons with the children. The men grabbed weapons and headed towards the village approach like an angry mob.”
    “What sort of weapons were they carrying?” Held asked.
    “Anything and everything, milord. A lot of farm implements, pitchforks and the like. But I saw more than a few clubs and swords in amongst them and even a couple of fully strung longbows. That’s when I thought I’d better come back and report.”
    Held looked across at Falaise. “I have no idea,