by Thomas Adams
“Kyrr? Hullo! Why did Master Ivar really give you a new name? What was your real name?” she asked.
He glanced up at her but kept the spoon moving as he thought about her question. Once he finished chewing he answered, “I am an orphan more or less. And, I told you I can’t remember my real name.”
She did feel sorry for him but she also wondered if this was all of it, “Nothing has come back? Nothing at all?”
He shook his head, “Nothing since I arrived in Tanic. I still don’t remember anything about myself or my family.”
She gave him a sympathetic smile, “So the name Kyrr really was a jest then?” His memory loss seemed too convenient. What if he were trying to hide his real name and family. Her eyes danced with both merriment and concern as she knew the name didn’t fit him at all.
“Aye, twas a jest.” He replied gloomily. Obviously the topic still upset him.
She responded quickly, “I am sorry about your parents. I never knew my mother either. She died very soon after I was born.”
He replied lightly, “I understand. That must have been difficult. It is no matter. I never knew them or at least remember nothing of them. Just some dreams that I canna remember when I wake.”
She seemed surprised by this. This was something new and needed to be explored, “Dreams? Can you remember any details? You should write them down afore you forget. Keep paper and quill always ready!”
He said, “No, it does not work like that. They fade as I wake. By the time I am coherent enough and can think clearly it is all gone.” He didn’t say anything about a dark haired girl with blue green eyes the color of the sea. He had a memory of her and knew he saw her in his dreams. He wanted to keep that to himself. It felt like it was a personal memory and the only one he really felt was real and from his past. He knew it would just lead to a torrent of new questions from Fridya. Questions he could not answer.
“That is too bad. I hope someday it comes back to you.”
He gazed at his bowl of stew, “Thank you, I also wish that. Someday I will remember my past. Until then I feel like a part of me is missing.”
There was something he was not telling her she realized. Something in that faraway gaze, it was both sad but hopeful. She silently resolved to press him harder and dig deeper.
***
Something seemed off. He knew it as soon as he lay down in his cot to get some much needed sleep. Master Smith Birger had him stay an extra hour and showed him some new ways to fuse metals. He was exhausted but he sat back up. He knew what it was. It was gone. The sword was gone. He checked under his cot and sure enough it was missing.
He was up and going through all his things in a heartbeat. He didn’t find it. The boys around him were watching him suspiciously from their beds. Rojr slept right next to him and watched with tired fascination. Finally he had enough though, “Tana’s tits, what are you doing Kyrr? It is time to sleep!”
“Someone stole my sword.” Kyrr replied in a dangerous voice.
“Aww, no Kyrr. Wait until morning to tell the Masters. They will have us up all night if you tell them now.” said Rojr grumpily and rolled over, his cot squealing in protest.
Kyrr sat down cot and tried to remember if he’d recently taken the sword anywhere. He didn’t think he had. It was still too big for him to train with so he never took it to the practice yard or to the classrooms. Only the Erling wore real swords around and they were just long daggers or short swords. They were still too young for real steel long swords.
Kyrr grunted an oath and rose to his feet. He grabbed a lantern from the wall and began to search the barracks. He was troubled by the missing sword. He had few possessions and anything that could link him to his past was priceless to him. His antics quickly drew several shouts and oaths from the other boys trying to rest for the evening. The days were arduous and long and every minute of sleep was precious to the students.
He eventually gave up his examination of the barracks. It wasn’t possible at this time of night. So, he headed out of the room to search elsewhere. But after an hour of frantic searching he realized it was futile and returned to his cot. He told himself he would start again in the morning when it was light. He knew he was not going to get much sleep tonight. He tried speaking to the sword through his mind but he heard nothing in response. It must be too far away he thought. He tossed and turned for a few hours until he drifted off into a troubled sleep.
***
The thief was worried. He took Kyrr’s sword with the intention of returning it to his family’s home. There it could remain hidden until he was big enough to use it. He’d coveted the sword since he first laid eyes on it. The sword teased him. He thought he could hear it in his head. It was driving him crazy but now that he had it he did not want it. It was strange but the sword refused to let him handle it for long.
Every time he snuck off to his secret place he tried to use it and get acquainted with it however, each time he felt sick and his arm tingled and he quickly put it back in the sheath. The dammed thing was surely cursed. He soon realized only the boy with no name could handle the sword. Now that he possessed the sword he was scared of it.
And, the feeling of discomfort and uneasiness grew in him with each passing hour. The thief got little rest and twice stole away to move the sword to a new hiding place. It gnawed at his consciousness ferociously.
He did not know wat to do but he knew he could not be caught. The punishment if he was discovered would be very painful and humiliating. He would be kicked out of the Hall and sent home. Everyone would know of his theft and such a crime in Vesfalruk would follow him for all of his days.
The next day he made up his mind to just return the cursed blade. He would have to sneak away again to retrieve it and then find a way to sneak it back beneath Kyrr’s cot, all without being discovered. But, he would be done with it then. It was a risk he would have to take. He did not want to touch the cursed sword anymore.
***
The following day Fridya and Kyrr were standing outside the door to his barracks. They were going to be late but Fridya insisted they check the barracks one more time before they go to the Masters and report the theft.
“Fridya, you canna go into the boys’ barracks.” Kyrr stated imperiously.
“If there is no one in there what is the big deal? I was in the soldier’s barracks in Kimera with my father all the time. Believe me there is no great mystery to me about naked boys.”
Kyrr was shocked by her statement but kept silent. Such a declaration from a young woman made him very uncomfortable. Fridya grinned at his obvious discomfort and said nonchalantly, “I didn’t know you were so easily embarrassed Kyrr. Oh but I forget, as an orphan, you likely have not been around women much. You will get over that quickly being around me. Now, show me where you sleep.”
She opened the door and led the way into the room. The room was empty and pretty untidy. The boys struggled to keep it neat even with the Masters conducting surprise inspections and handing out punishments for the worst offenders. All the lamps were out and it was gloomy and stale smelling. Kyrr lit a lantern and pointed out his cot to Fridya.
“This is just cozy. How do you all manage to keep it so messy and smelly? ” she asked with a hint of disdain.
Kyrr was glad it was so dark. That way she wouldn’t be able to see the scowl he directed her way. He pointed to his cot. She bent down and rooted around under it. Her demeanor indicted she was somewhat nervous and not as bold as her words would have led him to believe. She quickly stood back up and she was holding his sword.
“Is this what you are looking for Kyrr?” she mocked.
“What?” he exclaimed and snatched it from her hands. He quickly pulled the blade out of the sheath a few feet and touched it with his hand. His gaze went unfocused and his face went expressionless for a moment but then it returned to normal and he slammed the blade home. “I don’t understand. I searched there several times. The thief must have put it back! I know it was Bera. He
is always doing stuff like this.” Kyrr fumed.
Fridya was baffled by this behavior. The touching of the blade, the facial expressions, was this archania? Why was this beat up old sword so special to him? She had heard him talk about it before but this was the first time she’d ever seen it. It was a simple, unadorned plain sword and still too big for him. Was it because it was one of his few possessions from before his mind was lost? She took the sword gently from his grasp and held the sword for a moment. It was surprisingly light. But, she felt uncomfortable holding it.
She chalked it up as another mystery to unravel. She commiserated with Kyrr. However, with the sword back under his cot then there was no reason to continue the search. Kyrr looked upset still though. He took the blade from Fridya and checked it again. He seemed satisfied it was his sword all right.
Kyrr said, “I don’t understand but I am going to see Master Ivar anyhow. You go on ahead without me Fridya.”
She shrugged and turned to head out to the practice yard. He heard her grumbling under her breath all the way to the door about messy smelly boys. He vaguely recalled another young lady frequently making the same complaints.
***
Lutvar received the Primus Legatus on his veranda. He bid the Primus to sit with him at his table and directed the servant to bring another glass of chilled wine. In comfortable silence, they enjoyed the view. The view from the heights of the Imperium Rectus was impressive. Crestia was beautiful from up here but not so much if the view was closer to the dirty, choked streets below.
The grand edifices of the central city, mansions, temples, baths, arenas and libraries were laid out in neat and orderly districts but the mean hovels and tenements of the poor increasingly pressed inwards while slowly but steadily growing outwards. The broad shining Sena River lazily wound through the valley and city below. Gardens and parks were laid out along the banks of the river and provided cool green havens.
The Rectus, as the city’s residents called it, was a large but low hill that overlooked the surrounding river valley. Most of the Imperium’s official government buildings, the Assembly, the major imperial palaces covered the hilltop. Only the imperial family and the most well connected resided on the Rectus.
It was the seat of power for the far flung Emoire Empire. It was ancient and past emperors had frequently renovated sections of the palaces or surrounding official structures and gardens. Most rulers wanted to put their own personal stamp on the most visible edifices of Imperium power and longevity. This led to an ill assorted composition of architecture and buildings thought Lutvar. But what did he know? He was no architect or engineer and such things as style, facades and other trends failed to impress him. All he knew was that the frequent renovations led to constant dirt, noise, traffic, all an inconvenience to the residents of the Rectus.
Lutvar glanced at the general sitting across from him. Primus Legatus Kho was dressed casually in a light tunic and kraza, or short breeches, due to the summer heat. Kho, still gazing at the city and river below, said, “It has begun Lutvar. Titan issued the decree to move five legions to the west and muster or press a massive force to march on Fortress Cinder. He also hired ten thousand Osterider light cavalry for a two year contract. They will be used to harass Radnja and once a way is open, move into Vesfalruk.
“And, a massive siege train is called for. It will consist of over five thousand engineers, ten thousand slave laborers and two hundred and fifty engines. It will assemble at Kitar. A further force of ten legions and fifty thousand slaves and mercenaries will be formed from scratch and used to attack Vesfalruk. That is if Cinder can be taken.
“It will be the largest force ever assembled in Ellorhim. He is effectively stripping all but three of our professional legions from the coasts and the eastern borders and he is leaving only three legions to check Osterider. It is the biggest mobilization in three hundred years. It will be even bigger than the army used during the Night of Despair”.
Lutvar was not concerned by the news. The emperor’s army would go no further than Cinder without help from the Dokköndi. He knew that and was working hard to degrade the boundaries of the Void to allow more to cross over. It was a slow process and the effort was taking a lot of time and resources.
Arngrim’s codices had not been very helpful to date. The magi had made little progress deciphering its instructions and the new theories and principals of archania the book outlined were foreign to the magi. That was a more pressing concern to Lutvar than the progress Titan was making on his mobilization. Failure to achieve Arngrim’s directives was not an option.
He also knew there was another plan in the works. The Dark Ones were working on a surprise attack in the north of Vesfalruk. Gullvayg was aiding Lutvar in building an alliance with a large force of trolls in the northern White Mountains. This force, once given the word, would attack in concert with the Imperium invasion.
A troll attack coupled with the undead slipping into Vesfalruk would draw off many defenders from Cinder and might allow the Imperium to finally break the impregnable fortress. Lutvar did not like the tone of Kho’s message though. It sounded like Kho was balking. Perchance Kho was not totally on board with the plan?
Lutvar asked, “It sounds Primus, as if you have some reservations about the invasion?”
Kho was a crafty one though. He’d been playing politics much longer than he’d been playing soldier, “No High Mage, I am totally with the emperor on this. I am just voicing the dispositions and stating the facts. And, it is a sad fact we do not have more professional soldiers to watch our borders while we mount the invasion but we will have to make do. In another year or two I will have five more regular legions outfitted, trained and ready for the war. It takes time though. Time is ever the enemy in this business. The emperor does not understand this. He thinks it can be done in a year but I caution him to expect it to take two at least.”
Lutvar was not impressed, “I am sure it does take time. I would think the logistics and training are very complicated. But, that is your area of expertise. Kho, I think you are doing a fine job. I am sure the emperor is pleased.” Lutvar decided he would have to put a team of watchers on Kho. It might be time for a new Primus Legatus soon. Maybe Kho would have an accident when he travelled to the front to lead the attack on Cinder.
***
Wulfgar said, “It’s likely a Nordbrandr, a North-Blade. Just like the legends tell of.” Wulfgar was the Master of Archives for the Guild and was visiting Reave Hall from Kimera. He’d arrived the day before. When Kyrr eventually found Master Ivar, Warden Bax and Master Wulfgar were with in conference with him. Master Ivar had invited Kyrr in and Kyrr explained how his sword had gone missing then surprisingly, reappeared this morning.
Wulfgar whipped the blade from the sheath and effortlessly executed a short sequence from the Runa of Syndros. The others, Ivar, Kyrr and Bax, watched the man’s perfect form and sequence. Kyrr marveled at Wulfgar’s flawless technique and speed. All Masters, no matter what their current role in the Guild was, were expert swordsmen.
The Master stopped and seemed reluctant to continue. He quickly sheathed the ancient blade and laid it on the table next to Kyrr. He glanced suspiciously at the blade and then at Kyrr saying, “You can tell by the tiny rune cut into the pommel. I am not quite sure what this one means. It does look familiar. I can check in detail when I return to Kimera though.”
He picked up and held the sword again so the group could see and pointed at the small marking. Kyrr knew it by heart. He even knew what it meant. Brotjnar. Destroy. The sword had told him this a while ago but Kyrr kept that knowledge and the fact the sword communicated with him a secret. The sword would want it so.
Wulfgar went on, “I have only seen two Nordbrandr myself. Not many see one in their lifetime. The Chancellor has one it. It is called, Gorasátter. And, there is one that belongs to the king, the Sword of Justice but it is hidden in the throne room. Both the sword and the throne were cursed by Brandt III and the Sword of Justice h
as been lost for some time. No one knows where it is exactly. I guess the Chancellor knows where it is.
“The other one I saw belonged to a Grand Master from the Devil’s Fork Guild. He was supposedly an indirect relative of Brandt I, Egin Jan Djornak-Rodull. He and his Nordbrandr disappeared over twenty years ago in the Mountains of Urvâl. I heard that Nordbrandr was cursed. It was a blood thirsty blade or brandr rekinni-blӧd, a school of thought that some swords more than others crave death and bloodshed and drive their wielders to great acts of death and horror. He allegedly went on a secret expedition for the previous chancellor. He never returned and the sword was never seen again.
“This one is different from the other two. For one, it is a true bastard sword whereas the others I have seen were arming swords. This one is also of superior craftsmanship but is plain and likely even older than the ones I have seen. The metal appears to be lighter yet stronger while also being more flexible. I also think this one is cursed. For some reason, when I just did that sequence, I felt a strange urge to put it down, to discard it. Like the sword was not happy with me as the wielder.”
Wulfgar glanced questioningly at Kyrr as talked. Kyrr just shrugged. Did Wulfgar suspect he knew more? He had swung the sword many times and it had never felt like that to him. If anything it urged him on even more. It seemed like the sword was very excited when he practiced with it. He was not sure what a blood thirsty blade was and did not think his sword was like that.
He kept all this to himself. Brotjnar was very secretive. He seldom had reason to touch it now. Even though he was taller and he wanted to use it, the sword was still too big for him. Brotjnar frequently whispered ‘Soon, soon you will wield me’. It usually talked to him at night as he lay in his cot, drifting off to sleep.