by Thomas Adams
She jerked back and scowled at Bera. “Whatever do you mean?”
“It is easy to see you like him. But, he does not return the same affection. And, I have seen Brandt’s interaction with the Princess of Radnja and I can tell who really holds his heart.”
“So, you think he is in love with Yfiria?”
He nodded. “And, politically speaking it is very smart. A union of Vesfalruk and Radnja would be a bold and brilliant move. Change things dramatically and the balance of things in Kimera would shift radically. So, I will keep silent for now and keep my options open. Maybe I can reconcile with Brandt. Although so far he has not shown any inclination to want to do so. But, I understand it, since the day he showed up, I treated him the worst.”
Fridya nodded and asked, “Why? Why not tell your father?”
“There are a few reasons. One you like him and I don’t want to lose your friendship and trust. Brandt is not interested in you romantically. But I am. So he is not a competitor and not a threat. And, I realize I have been seriously mistaken and a complete ass. For a long time I treated Brandt and many others poorly, and for the meanest of reasons. You showed me that. I want to change. Be a better person. And finally, I am not the oldest son. You know what that means. I will not inherit much in the Westlands. My older brothers will get it all. I have to find a different path and a new king will open up opportunities and potentially I can find a future there.”
Fridya was shocked, “You’d support Brandt against your family?”
“I have been shortsighted and petty. I’ve let my father’s and bothers’ hate, elitism and prejudice blind me to many things. I now see with clearer insight and realize Brandt is a good man. I grudgingly admit he is the better warrior, tactician and leader and he will actually make a good ruler for Vesfalruk. Once I came to this realization and made my peace with it I redoubled my efforts to befriend Brandt and make up to him for my past mistakes. Only time will tell if I took the right path.”
***
Rojr, Brandt and Yfiria were patrolling their section of wall in Fort Five. They drew the early morn to dawn shift. It was warm and still. Guard duty was boring but the three had become close friends over the last few years and made up clever word or memory games to help pass the time on nights such as these. Patrolling the wall was simple. One guard stood in the center of the wall and the other two would make continual staggered circuits back and forth. They would trade off from time to time as well.
This method, they were taught, was best since you always had two moving guards at almost opposite ends of the patrol path and one stationary guard in the center that could watch the middle section and keep an eye on the two moving guards. The constant movement and third person also helped keep everyone alert and awake.
The guard in the center was the key. If there was contact or someone stealthily tried to overpower one or both patrolling guards the person in the middle would see it and raise the alarm. Or, if the middle guard was attacked then one of the rovers would surely spot it and respond. It was the best technique for patrolling a wall or tower or camp perimeter with a small number of guards. At that moment, Brandt was the middle sentry of their trio. He was thinking of a response to the word game question Rojr had posed, name forty one syllable words that rhyme with red. He had come up with thirty so far. He heard a noise on the stairwell leading up to their wall.
He turned to see what was going on and he saw four guards coming up the stairs to the their section of wall. They would emerge onto the walkway near where Rojr was patrolling. Something about the men raised his suspicions. First, it was too early for the relief shift to come. Second, these guards were all older men and not the students from red band. The students of his band were responsible for the west wall. Why would regular soldiers be coming up here now, in the middle of the night?
His awareness of what was happening peaked. He shook off his sleepiness and looked at them. It was dark with some moon light and a few lanterns and torches on the wall. But, as if something gave him extra clarity he saw them for what they were. Brotjnar was suddenly in his hand and whispering in his mind, the sword was ill at ease and cognizant of the sudden tension in the air.
Their ill-fitting tunics and armor, the mismatched weapons they carried and their cold dead hard eyes stood out to him. Their tightly coiled muscles, their tense posture and their hands on their weapons screamed to his senses that something was wrong. They looked different, out of place. The looked like assassins!
Brandt shouted a warning. Two of the imposter soldiers were just steeping onto the top of the wall. Their daggers were already out. Rojr was just coming up to the men. He was totally unsuspecting but he heard Brandt’s warning. His eyes widened as realization set in. He was too close. The long spear in his hand was useless at that close distance. It didn’t really matter Brandt realized with horror. It was too late for Rojr.
Brandt saw his friends’ eyes dart to the Narasists’ blades. Rojr let go of his spear. Brandt was now moving towards the imposters. The other two were on the wall now and turned towards Brandt. The daggers of the two facing Rojr struck. Rojr tried to block with his round shield and pull his sword with his free hand.
Fridya was shouting the alarm as well now and Brandt heard her coming up behind him fast. He didn’t wait. The rage inside him built and he swept Brotjnar back and held it ready as he rushed the two coming at him. When he neared he swung the sword in a horizontal two handed strike at the men in front of him. The speed of his attack surprised them. The blow was over and done afore they could get set and one of the impostors fell backwards to the ground with a partially severed arm. Blood, black in the darkness, was pumping messily over the stone walkway. When his comrade went down, the other impostor fell back a few steps. He had also been struck in Brandt’s initial attack and had a shallow cut to his chest from Brotjnar. The assassin’s eyes glittered with hatred and indecision.
Fridya suddenly came up on Brandt’s left and slammed into the Narasist. Brandt used the distraction of her attack to put a few lighting fast thrusts into the impostor’s side. Between Fridya and Brandt the man went down and stayed down. They looked up and saw the other two assailants moving down the wall towards them. The sounds of pounding feet, men shouting and crashing weapons and armor from other parts of the fort told Brandt relief was coming.
Arrows starting hitting the section of wall near the two imposters. One man was hit in the shoulder and sank to a knee. Three more guards with spears burst onto the walkway behind the impostors and charged them with spears lowered and shields raised. The impostors froze and one turned to face the new attacks. The wounded man stood and raised his short sword. He was shakily mounting a defense. His eyes indicated he knew it was futile.
Brandt and Fridya advanced on him. Grim determination was on their faces. They would avenge their friend’s death. It was over quickly. The two students worked in perfect unity; their countless hours of training in the yard ‘Above’ had melded their actions into a fast, fluid and deadly dance. Brandt tied up the imposter’s sword and Fridya took advantage of the gap to land a killing thrust to his chest. The wounded impostor hadn’t stood a chance against them. The other three guards had captured the last man as well.
Brandt and Fridya rushed to Rojr. It was too late. Seven stab wounds had ended their friend. The healer just shook his head. Brandt and Fridya each grasped a still warm hand of their friend and recited the warrior’s lament for him. Brandt stayed with him a long time. The memories of their years together threatened to overwhelm him. Fridya stood by him with a hand on his shoulder and tried to comfort Brandt. He felt guilty, had he made a mistake? Could he have reacted faster and saved Rojr? He bowed his head in grief.
It was quickly determined the impostors were in fact Narasists. Erika took charge of the prisoner and marched him off to a holding cell. How they entered the fortress was not known though. It took a further day to figure that out. Master Ivar told Brandt and Fridya that there was a secret tunnel below the halls a
nd cellars that went all the way down to a hidden doorway at the base of the High Fort. The tunnel was an escape route and a sally port. Its existence was a closely guarded secret.
Apparently the Narasists had discovered it and found a way to bypass the door’s locks and enter the tunnel. It was grave news. There could be more of them down there right now. The garrison commander and the Jarl Gustave posted a large heavy infantry band to guard the upper doorway to the tunnels under the fortress. Erika said they would have a meeting tomorrow to figure out what to do about the breach and to find a solution.
***
Jarl Gustave called the meeting in the High Fort’s small hall, next to the stables, to order. In attendance were Masters Ivar and Grovan, Erika, Master Smith Birger, Warden Bax, Brandt, Fridya, Captain Gorgrin of the High Fort Watch and War Captain Hemming, the royal garrison commander. The situation at Reave Fortress was unique. Jarl Gustave Greyvale was the overall ruler of the county of Ost Graense. His county seat and stronghold was in Fortress Reave, specifically the Low Fort. Master Ivar was the Grand Master of Reave Hall which really consisted of just the Reave Guild Hall and assorted facilities in the High Fort.
War Captain Hemming was the commander of the military forces securing the fortress and had overall responsibility to defend Fortress Reave, patrol the Pass of Fire, support Fortress Cinder, patrol the Eastern White Mountains, and run the spy and scout networks sent into the Emorie to gather intelligence. He also held nominal command of the other eastern border fortifications. He was not in command of Fortress Cinder though. That fell to a different war captain. It was a complicated arrangement but it worked. Hundreds of years of precedence helped and the men genuinely got along and understood their roles. There were some problems and issues that periodically arose but they were typically shorted out in quick order by the experienced leaders.
The meetings main topic, of course, was what to do about the secret entrance at the base of The High Fort. There was no way to know who was in the halls and tunnels under the fort. War Captain Hemming said the only way to be sure was to send a full heavy infantry company down there and clean every single room and hall one at a time. He had the only accurate map they could use to clear the underground labyrinth out with. It was also his overall responsibility to secure the fortress.
It was also decided that at the same time everyone else would sweep all seven forts and clear all chambers, halls, barracks, family quarters, stables, shops and store rooms. In this way they would ensure no assassins remained left undetected and hiding in the fortress somewhere. Everyone agreed. Hemming said he would also put a blocking force at the secret entrance in case anyone tried to escape. That topic was decided easily enough.
The next subject was whether or not they should permanently seal the secret entrance. This could be accomplished by a specially controlled cave in. A section of the tunnel was designed and built to collapse when certain support columns were destroyed. There was significant debate about this and it was eventually decided it must be done. They had no way to know if the Erhand had widely disseminated the location of the secret door. It was a risk that could not be overlooked.
Brandt and Fridya did not speak at all until the next topic was raised. The war captain looked directly at the two youth and said, “What do we do with him? I am not totally sure why he is the object of such desperate attacks. Something else is going on here. He is your student Ivar. What is going on?”
Master Ivar looked around and slowly stood up. “You are correct war captain. He is not just some Erling. I, a few others here, the Chancellor and his daughter there, and a few other leaders in the Guilds know his true identity.”
Ivar paused and Hemming grew impatient. “Well come on Ivar. We have been friends a long time. Twenty years has it been now? What is it? What could warrant such desperation and expense by the Emoire? Why such single mindedness?”
But there was no need to answer. Hemming, as he spoke, closely looked at the lad for the first time. Hemming’s face transformed with sudden understanding. Hemming stood and slowly walked around the table towards the boy. He stopped a few feet from where Brandt sat and gazed into his face.
His eyes were locked on Brandt’s. “No. I don’t believe it. This can’t be possible.”
Brandt rose and the war captain took a step back. He said nothing. The war captain and Brandt were of equal height. “How old are you son?” asked Hemming.
“Fifteen winters I think, sir. Maybe more or less. No one really knows.”
“You are big, but you’ll get even bigger I think. Brandt was big as well. My father served him. He used to tell me stories when I was but a lad.” Hemmings gaze went to the war sword.
“A bastard sword, you prefer it? No one uses such a sword these days. No one but the Grand Master; he is a riddle, a throwback to the old days.”
“Sir, it suites me well. I prefer the style of my father, the war sword and small axe.”
“Your father.” A statement that left a lot unsaid. “Are you any good?”
“Master Ivar trains me now in the sword and Master Grovan in the axe. They can tell you better than I.”
Hemming turned to the Masters. Ivar was still standing and watching the exchange closely. Without a blink he said, “He will be a Master next year, mayhap sooner. It will be much earlier than anyone else, ever. He is almost as good as me now. In a year or two he will be better. In two or three years he will be without equal in Vesfalruk, maybe in all of Ellorhim.”
Hemming looked stunned by this revelation. Grovan nodded and added, “He has already begun learning the style his father used. He is the best natural fighter I have ever trained or seen fight. He will be unstoppable.”
“Masters, I trust your assessments. You two are the best I know and if you say he is that good I believe you. Does that make him the Sun of the West though? The timing of this is just too good to be true.”
“Thank the Druids for that.” said Bax.
“Druids? What are you talking about?” Hemming asked.
“Aravin did this. He took the boy when he was an infant from the queen. He raised him in the Shadow Lands. He trained him. Then he dropped him here a few years ago, right outside Tanic’s front gate.”
Hemming was clearly perplexed. “The Ancient One, you saw him? You spoke with him?”
Ivar, Erika and Bax all nodded their heads.
“And what is your role Chief Huntress?”
“War captain,” She replied and stood and delivered her report as if she’d done it a thousand times. Brandt thought she likely had. This was the first time he’d heard her formal rank. “I am chief of the guard for Prince Brandt. Warden Bax runs things outside of the fortress and I run them inside. I have unique experience with Narasists, as you well know. We have been very successful until this last attack. I need more help though. I can request more help. We will need it soon I fear.”
Hemming nodded and turned back to Brandt and Fridya. “Young lady, I know your father but not well. We have met a few times but are not close friends. I am not in his confidences on this matter. What do you have to say about all of this?”
She didn’t stand. She didn’t have to. She was of the Frey, an Erling. She was here to train and learn and not a member of the army. She began, “I have seen most of these things they speak of with my own eyes.”
She turned and looked up at Brandt and smiled, “He certainly has his faults and lacks the refinement of a gentleman at court but he is already a very good leader. He is a natural. Our band looks up to him, respect him and all call him friend. They will all follow him in battle.” She paused and then went on, “I know I am young but I spent much of my youth with my father learning about the land, our people and politics. I have spent much time around soldiers, in practice yards, on hunts, in council rooms and in the stables. I have seen many men and women fight. Some were supposedly the best of Vesfalruk and they were very good, no doubt. However, I have never seen any that are as good as him.
“And, my f
ather agrees. He has talked to Aravin and has checked the Prophecies and talked to his recorder and the chief archivists. It is all very possible, the time is right and the signs are all there for anyone that actually looks. The Emorie prepares for war and repeatedly sends Narasists into this fortress to kill one young man. You of all people know war comes. Why do you suppose that is? Can it all just be coincidence?”
Hemming said, “Aye, I know it. I read the reports and talk to the scouts.” He paused and looked Brandt in the eye and said, “So, at our greatest time of need you come? The Lost Prince of legend? Should I bow and pledge my allegiance? Or, should I call the jarls up here to sort this out?”
Hemming looked at Gustave as he said this. Jarl Gustave was strangely quiet throughout the entire meeting so far. His politics were well known. He was a traditionalist. He was bound to honor his oaths to the land and to his people. But, would he honor an oath made years ago to support a king if one should return? Jarl Gustave remained quiet and watchful.
Brandt spoke clearly and without raising his voice, “Sir, I admit I am not prepared for this. I have only the word of two people to support this claim. One I trust with my life. The other, Aravin, I barely remember. And, I have the acceptance and guidance of those here in this room who believe in me. I think they are honest people. I have never had reason to distrust them. I have always held them in the highest regard.
“So you know sir, I have issues with my recollections. Aravin said it is due to the enchantment he used to send me here and the interference of the Dark One. I am not sure what to believe. So I trust in those around me to help me understand it better.
“And, you don’t have to bow to me or pledge allegiance to me now. Nor do you Jarl Gustave, or anyone else for that matter. If and when I make my claim I ask you to judge me on my merit and my actions. Let that guide your decisions.