When the rest of the party had awoken, and made ready to travel, Cedric went over to wake Galdwin.
“Galdwin, come now just one more day of travel, and we’ll have you in an apothecary good as new,” Cedric said as he rubbed his friend’s back and jostled him. But Galdwin did not move, his body was stiff and felt cold through the blanket. Cedric pulled at Galdwin’s shoulder and recoiled in grief at what he saw.
Galdwin had passed in the night. His wounds proved stronger than his will to live and his face had been made pale and lifeless. Cedric collapsed to his knees and cried out in pain as his other companions came before him and wept alongside the noble. Beorn lifted Galdwin’s body without saying a word, he simply hung his head lay and began gathering stones for a burial ceremony. Alfnod and Aderyn prepared a pile of dry grass and sticks and laid them beneath Galdwin’s body. Cedric sat by his deceased friend, unable to muster the strength for any activity.
As the sun reach higher in the sky, the ceremony began. Eadwine began to strum his bardic lute and hummed a low pitched burial song. Galdwin’s body had been placed in a stone furnace, with some stones left out as to let the air flow from the fire. Each knight in Lafayette’s party held their heads low and their helmets in their hands.
Cedric took a torch and lit the wood resting beneath the deceased. His body burned and crackled from the heat of his stone tomb. By Alfnod’s word, it appeared as if they could see his soul leaving and dancing with the smoke towards the sky. None left their spots until the last of their dear companion had become ash. As the final step in the ritual, Cedric took a handful of the still hot ash and sprinkled it in the wind, reuniting Galdwin with the earth that produced him.
Chapter 10
Wulfstan and the Ram
At the early afternoon of the day, the company finally reached their destination of Wulfstan. The largest city of the North, it was once an elvish city in the days of Rohiel when these lands were known as Glanfech. Practically built on top of the elvish ruins, the city of men was dominated by bold stone architecture, with townhouses of carved wood and elegant glass imported from Essaroth.
The walls were a stretch of heavy mortar and stone, with guard towers placed evenly across the whole of the structure. At each tower, a great banner flew in the wind, the banner of the Ram. The Ram was the household animal of King Oswine, and it had served the city as its guardian upon the wall for many generations.
Beyond the main walls of the city, the port and ship markets bolstered with activity, here a man could find all the goods of the world under one port. In the center of the great city, rested the palace, one of the few exposed buildings of elvish origin, as most had sunk far beneath the ground. The castle was built from a massive stone stretching from the ground to the sky, from which Adalgott carved the laws of man. Along the lower sections of this rock, the estates of the great houses rested snugly, each more majestic and magnanimous than the last. Alongside this walkway of nobility, lay the tomb of Francia, the patron of the vineyard and feasting, who planted the first vineyard in the north by order of the god Domovoi, who guards the hearth and home of all who pour out a portion of their drink as offering to the merry god. This tomb was a great mausoleum, where many other patrons of the gods laid their heads in final slumber. Along the stone front wall, great vines and wine presses were carved from the rock, illustrating the happy and dutiful life of Francia’s followers at their various monasteries throughout the land. These monasteries were common as houses of refuge for any weary traveler in the north, where happy song and good food are made available for all who find them.
The port of Wulfstan was a bustling hub of activity. It was the last port in the north until the land of Belfas and served as a major resting place for any weary traveler or merchant. The merchant stalls and market tents were each a plethora of brilliant color, from bright red to royal purple. The docks held many merchant vessels from the far south, hoping to impress their northern kin with their sweet wine and luxury goods.
Along the market streets, the sounds of smithies at their workshops filled the air with rhythmic music. The smiths of Wulfstan, and of the whole north were coveted for their blades, both strong and beautiful, as each appeared as if fit for the side of a king.
Across the cove, stretched deep into the water, the citadel known as Stormwatch could be seen. A massive complex of docks and stone keeps, all connecting to a central tower, Manton’s Watch, where the legendary admiral led the defense against the fire ships of Verid, a kingdom known for magic and naval prowess. This historic island now served as the headquarters of the Lorinian Navy, where all orders and movements were relayed. In the days of yore, when Lorine ruled over both Midland and Belfas, the navy would proudly sail up and down the coast, featuring to all the might of the Northern Kingdom. Now many of the ships had been scuttled, and the mariners’ forces had been reduced to patrol ships and lightly equipped Birlinn, a style of long ship that acted as both transport and war vessel.
In the recent years of the declining kingdom, the Magi court of Lorine had moved their court and scribes to Manton’s Watch, serving as a powerful conduit for magical forces. Now the grandmaster and his disciples study away at the books brought in from trade ships far from the south, uncovering lost knowledge of the material and the ethereal worlds.
Upon King’s Street, the largest of the stone laid streets of Wulfstan, a grand spectacle of buildings from different ages rested. From a distance, the songs of the bards could be heard from the great drinking halls, where men came to listen to the tales of yore and drink in revelry with their companions. The biggest of these in the world had its home in Wulfstan, the Hall of Ygbirt, the greatest poet and composer of the Northern Kingdom. He once served as a soldier in Adalgott’s army, in the time of his strife against Azrael. In this period, he crafted words like that of the elven smiths and their silver steel, each composition forged as beautiful as the shining light of the stars.
The many townhouses build in Adalgott’s time remained intact, their glass windows reflecting the candles burning within. The taverns still proved spacious and warm, with songs of happy days caught by the ears of all which passed. It took a trained eye to uncover what ailed the city. It was in the strained and restless patrols of the guardsmen which gave the first hint of trouble. The guards had been long overworked, their legs like brittle twigs supporting layers of chainmail and plated steel.
In the alleys of the city, strange symbols were surrounded by mages and guards alike, and each was baffled by what they saw. The language of the markings was archaic and dead, none knew, and none dared to speak it. The constable of Wulfstan was a man named, Olaf, his forces were pressed thin against forces they did not understand. A true master of the law, Olaf was responsible for the upkeep of civility within the city, ensuring that the dark forces brewing beneath the surface remained from the public’s eye, as there would be panic and disorder in that ordeal.
The company and Lafayette split with the knights at the steps towards the palace, their work was concluded, and they yearned to return to their castle to the south. Lafayette bid them a hearty farewell, though they were headstrong and rather foolish, Lafayette had never commanded a more honorable lot of men in all his days as First Marshall of Lorine. “Fate would be kind to cross our paths with theirs once more, they made for excellent company and proved themselves skilled in combat,” Cedric said as his party watched the knights’ ride across the cobbled streets of Wulfstan.
A servant of the king, adorned in the traditional garb of the north, a long tan cloak covering a purple tunic, the color of nobility. They were led into the main hall of the castle, where many emissaries from a variety of nations stood in council with the king. Behind the whole host of the nobles and the throne stood Adalgott’s Stone, where the laws of the Northern Kingdom were first put into writing by the warrior king himself. The chamber itself had lines of columns on each side, elvish in design.
King Oswine had ruled since the time of his youth, unlike many of his pr
edecessors. Since the beginning of his rule, the Age of Small Kings had officially ended. It was the period where the kings of Lorine ruled for short times, never even passing five years before death or mutiny overtook them. The fifth king before Oswine, Edmund, was found dead only the morning after his coronation, from over-consumption of unmixed wine, which had choked him in his sleep. Edmund’s son, Ross, was only five when he took the throne, and his first kingly winter brought fever which left him in the grave come spring. Oswine served as a stabilizing factor for the king weary nation, a symbol of strength and consistency.
The guards snapped to attention as Lafayette and Cedric entered the hall. The guardsmen sported heavy chainmail which reached down to their legs, along with a thick belt with golden buckle, and long purple cloaks which were draped over their shoulders. They wielded spears in hand, and blades at their sides, though they bore no shields.
On all sides of the king’s court, the landed nobles and merchants of the kingdom presented themselves as the Witan, or council, to the king. The noblest and most influential amongst them was Arrington of Lahyrst, a powerful family known for military might and wealth in the lands of Lorine. Upon their ancient castles and cities, they placed their banners proudly waving the Red Fox of Lahyrst. Their chief among them was William Arrington, the house’s great patriarch, and political animal. He was Chancellor of the kingdom and had brought a sense of stable order to the nation’s political systems. The other thanes and nobles had long since submitted to the power of the Arrington clan, and their might overshadowed all.
He was an older man, William, but still had a fire of ambition in his eyes, and many assumed his sired heirs would inherit the throne. House Deering was also present for this assembly, their thane, Egbert, Treasurer to the King. He was a plump and near rotund man, with a thick and heavy beard, with many specks of food and wine still present from his latest meal. Many would expect this tax collector to be a cruel and greedy man when he was quite agreeable. With his heavy weight came a certain jolliness and he was known throughout the land for taking the tax of only what was owed.
Next to those powerful men was none other than Lafayette, the youngest amongst the king’s royal officers. In only a few years’ time, he graduated from the military school at Wulfstan and risen through the ranks from squire to First Marshall. His tale was one derived from the purest spirit of ambition. Born as a bastard to a Wulfstanian whore, Bianca, he was the unwanted offspring of an unknown noble. Bianca was an intelligent woman and knew the trials her child would face if unprepared, and so she only accepted payment in the form of knowledge. The upper-class customers of her would bring piles of books for the young Lafayette, and eventually, he proved himself as learned as the wisest of the magi grandmasters. Lafayette had now changed his appearance to one that of a courtly noble. His hair was smooth and silky, his clothes made of the finest cloth, and his accent was like that of a southern bard. Lafayette still feels the burden of his birth, often seen in the poorest corner of Wulfstan, giving gold and fine foods to a poor old woman.
Foreign emissaries and honeyed speakers came from all corners of the world to parlay with the good king, their accents robust and distinguished, carrying the history of their folk with them. From the Elnish lands, the diplomats had come from their spiraling towers and rural landscapes to secure trade rights. These men were from regions just south of Lorine, where fields of grain overcame the scene, and knights sign of fair maidens to be rescued.
Further along the court, Cedric spotted the most foreign men he had ever laid eyes on. Their skin was tanned, kissed by the sun, and their faces were sharp with trimmed beards. They were Tanari, the southern men of Yennen. Some amongst them carried curved blades, they were the darkest skinned amongst their band, and the lighter ones carried straight swords. The Tanaric lands were a mixing pot of culture, for to the north, upon the Arron Plains, the palest amongst them rode as one with a horse. To the south, the men sail upon dormons with hundreds of oars.
Amongst the foreign nobles present, there was Lady Joanne, the Queen of Lusani Elves. She had only recently taken the throne now and was no more than a young adult, but her mind proved older and wiser in political dealings. She wore a long green coat that was covered in the pattern of a great tree, from which the wood elves were born. Her face was narrow but smooth, like that of her kin and she wore her hair in loose blonde fashion. Even for one of the woodland people, she was exceptionally short and appeared like a human child to some.
At either side, two of her Silver Guard stood like stone sentinels in the landscape. Their spears were sharp enough to tear through the toughest of dweor armor, and they wore polished steel helmets without equal. At their breasts, they wore heavy lorica squamata, armor from ancient forges that was composed of small pieces of metal strung into lines. Upon their belts, they wore symbols of their ranks, with five gold belt buckles on each elf’s front.
Their queen was giving an authoritative speech on the rights of those who pass through the sacred elven lands. “I am sorry King Oswine, but your people know the ways of the Lusani, all those who march on those hallowed grounds are marked for death by Kyshnael, the huntress, let it be known that our ancient laws shall not change custom for some caravan of goods. My decision on this matter is final, by our gods we wish you well, but in your own territory.” The queen turned and marched confidently away, her point made.
Time had strained the relationship between the two fading lands, only three generations ago, Lusani and Lorine found themselves entrenched in brutal war. The King Dechart had led a vast army through the forest of Lusani, attempting to force the woodland creatures into an agreement in which the merchant guilds of Lorine would be given a new land route to Belfas, guaranteeing fortune to be made. Dechart’s forces moved without contact for three days, even coming to think that the elves had vanished. On the third day, the forces of men were greeted by a hail of arrows along the road, and the Silver Guard sliced through the chain and leather of the Lorine people like wetted paper.
None of the regulars of the army were ever seen again, the only sign of the war was the gift of Dechart’s head upon a pike along the southern edge of Lusani. From that day on the forest has been closed to all the kingdoms of men and only the foolish dare enter. The queen continued this tradition but had loosened some of the punishment. The queen posted guards along the border, warning any who dared to approach of the coming doom, which waylaid many of the foolish merchants of the south and thus avoided political incidents with the outside world. The other nobles of the court were stunned by this display of power by a foreign lady and looked to the king for a response.
King Oswine rubbed his temple with both of his hands, the day’s court had brought before him many issues, and it had worn him thin. Without a worded response to the queen he simply waved in hand in subtle agreement, the merchants would no longer trespass with the authority of the guilds. The king was well worn from his many battles, but now he no longer appeared as a bold warrior but as a dead man. His hair was still black, but it had a gray streak on each side of his head. His goatee was refined and curled, a leftover style from his youth in the court of Essaroth. The king wore a great red cloak with a golden pin which had a ram molded into it. His crown was of pure gold, with four pointed tips, beneath each a sapphire rested. The king motioned to his aid and whispered into his ear.
The servant blew a trumpet, and the court was dismissed for the day. Members of the royal houses talked and convened on the political agendas of the days. The merchants of the major guilds stood by a stone pillar, discussing their next economic venture. The king left the court for his gardens, at the roof of the palace.
As the king exited, Cedric was stopped by a babbling knight, who appeared in full mail and coat. At his side, his helm was slung on his belt along with a symbol of a burning sun. His arms were covered in thick padding, less for armor and more style. His head was clean of hair, cut down to near nothingness. His accent was foreign and thick with style heard in the
neighboring land of Ritter. “Good sir, I see you too are of noble birth. Then you understand that this is an absolute outrage!” He said as he writhed his hands along his arms in pain.
Cedric was quite amused by this display, and so inquired more. “Truly sir knight you have been wronged, but by what, some noble lady not offering you her handkerchief?” The knight removed his helmet, revealing a grizzled but refined face, which was none too pleased by the jokes at his expense.
“It is an outrage against my order itself, for weeks the Knights of the Eternal Dawn have called upon the aid of Lorine and Belfas.” He paused to take a deep breath. “To no avail. Mark these words, it is the end times in the north, and your foolish kings will do not to stop it.” The knight hurried off to the outer halls where more of his order was gathered. The Knights of the Eternal Dawn were the last true chivalric order north of Lorine and had stood the test of time for many years but now seemed like an ancient relic of a long forgotten past.
They were formed from the descendants of Adalgott’s companions. They were blessed by the priests of Cinder and given the sacred duty to defend the north from the return of Azrael. They have long waited for the day when the Seer, the heir to Adalgott’s Kingdom, reveals himself and take his place as the rightful ruler of the north. Their chivalric castles dot the landscape of Belfas and Midland, each a token of favor for the heads of this order. Their central citadel is located along the cold and biting coast of Midland. Zweleran, the oldest functioning castle of man, built long before the knights were founded, it was the site where Cinder revealed himself in the form of a dawning sun. It was a massive complex of fortresses, halls, and towers, all defended by Theodric’s Wall. A spanning wall, with a rushing moat of water, stretching from one side of the Vaalian Sea.
The Sword to Unite Page 6