Fogle Eric - Forge of the Gods 01 - The Last Knight (V1.0)

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Fogle Eric - Forge of the Gods 01 - The Last Knight (V1.0) Page 18

by 5kops


  When Lord Silvershield finally called for a halt, the small company had traversed three more miles in relative silence. If not for the thunder and lightning, the mounted warriors would have continued until nightfall, which was still an hour away. With several crisp orders from the commander, Areck dismounted and moved the company into a small copse of forest, just off the graveled road.

  As Areck prepared to tether the mounts, he saw the knights talking and pointing to the horizon. He heard his name and realized that he was their subject, meaning one thing: it was time to be punished.

  The tallest of the trio, Knight-Captain Galwen Vinion, looked angry and deep in discussion with Lord Silvershield as he pointed at Areck. Lord Bowon placed his hand on the man's arm, nodded to the watching squire, and said something that made his second-in-command drop his arm in em­barrassment.

  Several thoughts cascaded through Areck's mind. First among those was that Lord Vinion was glaring at him as the knight pulled Lord Silvershield deeper into the forest, most likely at the fact Areck's punishment was not severe enough for his taste. Areck tried to calm himself but could not help but envision the repercussions Knight-Captain Vinion would dish out.

  "Why are all of you are so bad-tempered about things?" a voice whis­pered behind him.

  Areck stiffened.

  How did be sneak up on me? he wondered, realizing that his friend had been standing next to him the entire time. He shook his head in resignation; he had been so absorbed in what was being said that he was not paying enough attention. Areck composed himself and turned around, looking into the pale blue eyes of Arawnn, who was quite cheerful given the circum­stances.

  "They are discussing me," Areck said.

  "Aye, the large one isn't happy that Knight-Captain Silvershield did not remove you from this campaign," replied Arawnn.

  "Honestly, I do not know why Lord Silvershield let me stay," Areck said, dropping his head in resignation. "I was sure that my time within the Academy was over."

  "Come now, Areck, all you did was stay out one night."

  "I have done many things, Arawnn!" Areck listed off the charges that would be named at his sentencing: drinking, sexual contact, betrayal of the ethos, and of course, tardiness.

  "But each one of those things was my fault!" the royal courier said. "How can you possibly be in trouble for following up on a given promise?"

  Areck considered his words. "You did not make me give my word, Arawnn. My arrogance kept me from thinking that you would call me on it, thus leading me to drink the wine, among other things. Plus, I was fooled by that accursed woman."

  "You mean that she got you drunk, and you can't hold your liquor?" Arawnn coughed and suppressed a chuckle.

  Areck glared at his friend. "Why don't you believe that she did some­thing to me?"

  "Sure she did! You could hardly stop drooling," Arawnn retorted, white teeth gleaming.

  Areck reddened in mortification. He hoped that his fool friend would not reveal anything before he had the chance to talk to Lord Silvershield privately. It would be a long lecture of how knights behaved themselves, no doubt.

  When another squire tripped over the coiled roping, Areck realized that he had not accomplished anything during his time eavesdropping on his superiors. His fellow squire freed his boot and glared at the pair supposedly preparing a tether line for the horses. The younger squire didn't say any­thing, however, since Areck was an officer and beyond reproach. The young man sniffed and mumbled something under his breath before storm­ing off towards a small group of squires who were preparing tents.

  As he watched the junior squire go, Areck turned to ask Arawnn for help finding a suitable pair of trees with enough space to secure a tether. His request was silly, as securing the horses was the easiest job in the com­mand, but Areck found it difficult to concentrate even on insignificant things. He knew that eventually his commander would finish talking with the other knights and he would need to atone for his behavior.

  Areck placed his boot in a small crevice for leverage and pulled until the thick rope hummed with tension. He then tied off the first part of the tether and signaled for Arawnn to loop around the trees, creating a rein­forced line from which the powerful animals would not easily break free. Arawnn maneuvered his body into place, waiting for Areck to place slip­knots and tie the rope. Satisfied, Areck pair backed off and regarded their work. The line was not perfect, but quite adequate for his first time securing a tether for an entire company.

  In his effort to concentrate, Areck had not noticed Lord Silvershield ap­proach with interest. The older knight looked pleased with the tension and security of the thick ropes, tugging on the knots and walking around the base of each tree. When Bowon was satisfied, he coughed to announce his presence. The noise made Arawnn jump backwards, so that he almost tripped on a thick root poking out of the ground. However, Areck slouched at the sound, lowering his gaze in acceptance.

  "Messenger Arawnn, I am sure the men are cooking some fresh stew back at camp. Would you please tell them that the tether is ready for their mounts?" Lord Silvershield asked, though it was not really a question.

  With a glance at his friend, Arawnn nodded and gave a small smile to say that everything would work itself out.

  Areck nodded, trying not to let his friend see his fear. This would be his last opportunity to show his knighdy worth to the courier; after his pun­ishment, he would be a mere civilian, unworthy of following an ethos.

  "There is a bond between you," Lord Bowon Silvershield said. "I sense your turmoil in befriending a person who is not like yourself."

  The statement caught Areck off guard. He was not expecting a break­down of his persona by his commander. Considering the statement a weak­ness, Areck lowered his eyes and hoped that his mentor would not point out other flaws in his character.

  "From the looks of it, you feel it too." Lord Silvershield chuckled. "Al­though, I think you believe such a friendship to be in poor taste?"

  "As you pointed out, Lord Silvershield, Arawnn is unlike me," Areck said. "The tension you sense is the reason you are here."

  "Always to the point, lad," Silvershield said, pointing towards a small copse of trees. "Let us take a walk and discuss your actions."

  As the pair walked in silence, Areck thought of all the time he had spent with his commander. So many of his elders considered the portly knight a fallen warrior, more concerned with wine and women than worshiping God. However, Areck found the old man amusing, with insights into the world that most Bre'Dmorians could not appreciate. He vividly remem­bered hearing tales of far away places, legends, and of a man who had once been a Champion of God.

  Areck had always considered Lord Bowon a particularly good storyteller, mad from creating such fictional tales, until the night he had found several shredded cloaks folded in an unlocked chest. On that night, he began to suspect that the man in the stories might in fact be Lord Silvershield him­self, or at least a caricature of the commander who for some reason had fallen into disgrace. Areck listened after that with a newfound wonder, ac­cepting that his commander's stories held more than their share of truth and would most likely lead to a better revelation later in life.

  For all of his faults, Areck considered Lord Silvershield a solid person of honor, depth, and compassion. These attributes had always removed the man from the terrible truth: he was a drunkard who solicited sexual acts and often disgraced himself.

  It was because of Lord Silvershield's lax attitudes that the knighthood's rules were stricdy enforced—an attempt to keep its lines pure and its mem­bers untainted. Areck knew this would be the reason they could not allow him to stay—"once impure, always impure," as the saying went. There was a chance Areck's pestilence would spread to others.

  "For all that logic, you cannot understand that life is meant to be lived," Lord Silvershield said as small raindrops gendy fell from the darkened sky.

  Areck looked at him in confusion.

  "You are thinking so hard
that I can read your thoughts, Areck." the knight-captain chuckled, placing a hand on Areck's shoulder. "You are do­ing what I did so long ago."

  Areck looked at Lord Silvershield and lowered his gaze, unable to look his knight-captain in the eye. He felt ashamed. He was trying to rationalize his actions by considering the source of his past. He tried to explain but no words came forth.

  "Areck, I have lived a knight's life for twenty-three seasons. I have trav­eled the world in search of the unknown," Lord Silvershield explained. "Now it is time for you to learn from my fool's errand, a symbolic measure of our life. We all try to decipher the unknown, hoping for some great an­swer. The day comes when we realize that we will never find those things. At least, I never did."

  "I do not understand, my lord. Why you are telling me this?"

  "Let me finish, Squire," Lord Silvershield whispered. "We are taught to live a perfect life, yet none can be perfect save God. The Bre'Dmorian ten­ets teach faith by servitude. Yet there is no faith in servitude, only blindness and shackles, which ultimately smother men. Think on this, son: we have gotten His message all wrong. Only by living life, by appreciating everything that has been given to us, can a man truly cherish God."

  Areck snapped his mouth shut. His commander's words were bordering on blasphemy.

  Lord Silvershield sighed when Areck refused to comprehend the mean­ing behind his words. It was the same way with most knights, all of them blinded by servitude, judgmental to the end. "Before you arrived at the sta­bles, Arawnn pulled me aside and told me everything: you gave your word as his escort, you thought of duty while seeking a cleric, and you were poi­soned while seeking information in the bar. He also assured me that you denied your manly passions in appreciation of your virtue."

  "Arawnn told you that?" Areck's mouth went slack in amazement. He had criticized Arawnn so much, yet Areck knew of no one willing to sacri­fice himself for the betterment of a friendship.

  "He told me many things," Lord Silvershield said with a small grin. "Un­fortunately, my council was not private. Both Lord Vinion and Lord Malketh insisted on being privy to any information concerning your tardi­ness. They both heard the same story and have both thought on a proper punishment."

  "I was told that you were worried that your career in the Academy is done," Lord Silvershield continued. "That is what I meant by my first statement. You will be a fine knight someday soon, lad. But you are so afraid to live your life, like most knights, that you think one misstep is proper reason to remove you from nearly ten years of service." The knight-captain paused, choosing his next words thoughtfully. "Heed this advice before I decide what to do with you. Do not waste your life ... as I have, lad."

  What just happened? Areck thought, struggling with comprehension. "I have come to pay my debt to the Academy and will accept whatever justice you would mete out, my lord," Areck said, still confused. His emotions ran a gamut from thankfulness, to regret, to uncertainty, to anger, and finally back to thankfulness for his friend. He had been ready for the worst kind of punishment: to face the situation alone.

  Lord Silvershield saw the mixture of emotions play across his squire's face. He knew that most of his words had not registered, as the boy strug­gled with what he had been taught to believe. Then again, understanding did not come in a single night, so Bowon gave Areck what he wanted: a reprimand for his actions. There was cause, after all, considering that he knew Arawnn had lied to protect the squire. Originally, Bowon had had not expected to press the matter, as the knight-captain saw the honor and integ­rity in protecting others when there was no mandatory need for it.

  "I never doubted you would, lad. You are a Bre'Dmorian, after all. It is your duty to be responsible," Lord Silvershield told Areck what he needed to hear. "Thus, you can understand my need to maintain command in a strict and orderly fashion."

  This Areck understood. He raised his eyes to meet his commanders and prepared to accept a fitting punishment. "Of course, I do, Lord Silver-shield!"

  "Good. I was serious when I said that the other knights have each con­sidered a fitting punishment for you." Lord Silvershield paused so the words could register. "However, I do not feel that a first time offense mer­its demotion. Nor do I think that a verbal lashing would be proper in front of the other squires. Therefore, the proper punishment needs to illustrate that a squire, even one of your rank, must take responsibility for his mis­takes." The knight-captain paced around the tree, trying to hide his pleas­ure, pretending to consider his options. "I must also show that the young often misstep and although bad decisions are costly, they are not irrepara­ble."

  After a moment's pause in which he nearly smiled, Lord Silvershield made his way back to where Areck stood with his eyes downcast in accep­tance.

  "It is my duty to punish you, Squire Areck," he began, choosing the proper words. "For being reckless in the field and for giving your word when you are not yet a knight, you will be relegated to digging latrines each night that we setup camp. This will be done after you finish your duties of making tether lines, as well as any other duties your other knight-captains find suitable."

  Areck gazed at him with unblinking eyes that betrayed his thoughts. His commander had given him a second chance, sticking with the original pun­ishment but sounding almost angry about it. The fact that he would not be demoted made Areck weak with relief. He understood that Lord Silver-shield was protecting him from harsher penalties. He nodded in agreement.

  "I glad you understand, Squire Areck," Lord Silvershield said, wheeling towards the camp without waiting for a reply. "I suggest you to start trench­ing before any rain falls."

  "It will be as you command, Lord Silvershield," Areck said.

  "One more thing, Areck: make sure you are composed before you come back to camp," The knight-captain's voice carried as he vanished behind a copse of trees.

  Areck took a deep breath. He looked to the sky and offered a prayer to Starsgalt, who had chosen to look over him. The next two weeks would be hard; trenching was not for the weak. However, if that was the price he had to pay for his failure, then he would dig all the way to Natalinople!

  Taking another deep breath, Areck followed his commander's steps through the trees. He walked to his saddlebags, removed a trenching pick, and went off to pay this night's price. Areck moved quiedy past the other men and into a small clearing downwind from the camp's setup. As he placed the small pick in his right hand and struck the ground, lightning branched across the sky. In moments, large drops of rain began to pelt the ground, followed by the boom of thunder.

  ****

  Var realized that he better make up his mind soon. He had paid hand­somely to ride with a small trading caravan to the north, inconspicuously taking the same route the Bre'Dmorians would use.

  As his carriage bounced along, the assassin's horse secured to the back, Var folded his orders and stuffed them in a small pouch. He had thought long and hard on what he was going to do, concluding that to ignore the shadowed man's warnings meant death.

  He is going to kill me anyway, Var thought, so what does it matter? There is still an opportunity to ride bard and get as far away as possible before they realise I have be betrayed them.

  Var's carriage lurched to a stop and the boom of thunder split the after­noon air. Var poked his head out. To his surprise, the caravan had made good time, reaching the fork before the Bre'Dmorian riders. He guessed that it was because the knights had not left until after daybreak, while the slow moving caravan had moved out several hours before dawn.

  Var sat down with a sigh of resignation. If leave now and never come back, I will be running for the rest of my life. However, if I can kill this courier, then I may live long enough to track down my shadowy friend.

  "Damn it!" Var exclaimed, sitting back. With all this self visualization, he knew there was no other choice; he had to continue. There was only one thing that mattered: to kill the man who had defiled him.

  Just before dusk the Bre'Dmorians caught
up with the caravan. As was their custom they slowed just long enough to offer greetings before moving down the road. Var waited for them to pass, poking his head out of the carriage only when he was sure to have a clear vantage.

  Var scanned each knight, looking for any signs that might announce his accomplice. He paid no attention to the young blond knight who turned to look at him, instead concentrating on picking out inconsistencies among the riders.

  Var smiled as he saw what he was searching for: a single knight rode without perfect posture. He would track his suspect until the Bre'Dmorians made camp for the night, just to make sure. And when he was ready, Var would kidnap his co-conspirator.

  ****

  As far as trenching went, latrines were fairly easy, being dug with the inten­tion to be refilled. With determination Areck slammed his pick into the soft ground as thick sheets of rain began to pour down. After twenty minutes of consistent rainfall, the soft soil turned from solid clay to slimy mud. The process of digging in such rain created havoc, as Areck struggled to scoop out more mud than water. Fortunately, none of the men had to use the privies.

  Though it took most of the evening, Areck finished his task. With a powerful thrust, he slammed the pick into the ground and looked towards the now-darkened camp, assuming that even-one had called it a night.

  It was not until Areck heard a pair of booted feet splashing up behind him that he knew a sentry had come to check on him. As the man ap­proached, Areck pushed himself away from the completed pit in exhaus­tion.

  "Lord Vinion wished to let you know that the privy will be finished in a more timely fashion in forthcoming nights," Squire Redmon said. "He said to tell you that if you cannot be timely in this matter, then maybe he shouldn't leave you to your own devices."

  Covered in thick mud, Areck could only gape at the sentry. "Please let Knight-Captain Vinion know that I will heed his warning." Areck lowered his gaze. If he had not poked his head out of the pit, Redmon might have walked past. "It will not happen tomorrow."

 

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