The Black Sword Trilogy: The Poacher

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by VanMeter, Jeffery


  Kenner thought carefully about the offer before him. Never in his wildest dreams or nightmares did he ever think he would be asked to serve in Walechia’s armies. Even more, he never thought he would be strongly considering it.

  “Don’t think too long, young man. I’m not as patient as I once was.”

  Kenner thought some more. What struck him most was the King’s remark about considering the people in the hills his people as well. And once more, he found his opinion of this King softening. His father had told him that he was vain, unjust, a liar and a murderer. Perhaps, this wasn’t the same King, Kenner thought for a moment.

  “Well?” The King insisted.

  Kenner thought a moment more.

  “Five years?”

  “Yes. After that, you will be free to choose. Should you choose not to serve any longer, you have my word, you will be free.”

  Kenner first reacted to the words “You have my word…” with distrust. But there was strength in the voice that gave Kenner confidence. There was something in there that Kenner could trust.

  “Very well,” Kenner finally answered. “I will serve for five years.”

  “Excellent choice,” The King told him. He then strode down the stairs and towards the doors behind the throne.

  “You will be assigned to Captain Krall,” he continued. “You will follow all his orders as if they were the will of the Spirits and without question. And one more thing,” he added before disappearing through the doors. “If you ever even mention the events of earlier today with my son; you will never be seen or heard from again. Do you understand?”

  Kenner was almost relieved to hear this. Here was a taste of the injustice he had expected and less reason to betray his father by liking this King.

  “I understand.” Kenner finally answered. After that, the King disappeared from his throne room.

  Chapter Six

  That night, Kenner was given a meal and a room in which to sleep. Before he fell asleep, he wept for his two cousins. He had known them since childhood and having no brothers of his own, they were the closest he had to such.

  He had uneasy dreams that night. He saw a place he had never seen before; a small wooden fort with soldiers from Walechia. He saw the soldiers fighting creatures that appeared to be both man and beast; killing and dying at the same time. He heard them screaming and crying; their weapons swinging and slashing. And he saw himself fighting among them. Then he saw flames engulf the fort, the ground and the soldiers fighting. And in the middle of all of this, he saw a figure in armor that looked like a skeleton with a helmet that looked like a skull. In his hand, he wielded a silver axe.

  He awoke with a start and, at first did not know where he was. He quickly remembered where he was and his fear subsided. Looking around in the darkness, he saw a silhouette standing in the corner.

  “Is that you shadow?” He asked the figure. Then he heard a sound, almost like a voice. It was little more than a whisper and it startled him. His shadow had never spoken before.

  Suddenly the door burst open and he saw the shape of a large man with the light of torches behind him.

  “On your feet soldier!” The figure commanded.

  Kenner arose as quickly as he could. Then the unknown soldier grabbed him by the collar and tossed him out of the room.

  “Hey!” Kenner tried to speak.

  “My name is not ‘Hey’! And from now on you will refer to me as ‘Sergeant’! Is that clearly understood?”

  “Can I at least…”

  “Is that clearly understood?!” The Sergeant yelled in his face.

  “Yes, Sergeant.” Kenner answered.

  “I SAID IS THAT CLEARLY UNDERSTOOD!!” The Sergeant screamed.

  “Yes, Sergeant!” Kenner yelled back.

  The Sergeant led him out of the palace and on to the streets of Kallesh. He moved so fast that Kenner could barely keep up. He was well over six feet tall with broad shoulders and a thick neck under his helmet. He was lean and muscular and his voice was harsh and sharp. They passed through the busy streets of the city past markets and apartment buildings filled with people staring at the two of them. After more than an hour, they reached a pair of wooden gates, again with the image of the Great Tower upon them.

  “Open the gates!” The Sergeant called out and the gates quickly opened. Inside was similar to what Kenner had seen in his dream. However, it was much larger. The courtyard within was larger and there was a long building with open, arched doors with soldiers coming in and out of. Kenner saw the heads of horses; hundreds of them poking out of their stables. This was almost like a city unto itself with hundreds, perhaps even thousands of people moving about. Most of them were soldiers of various ranks; but all wearing the same style of armor. He saw them practicing sword play. There was an archery range near one of the far stone walls and he saw many in formations marching around the large courtyard.

  In one space in the courtyard stood about a dozen men, not in uniform sitting around a campfire and eating.

  “On your feet you maggots!” The Sergeant hollered. They all quickly stood up.

  “Get in line, all of you! A straight line you worms!”

  They all obeyed and stood to attention.

  Most of them, Kenner noticed looked scared. Their faces were pale with fear and their eyes full of fright. Some of them were even shaking. The Sergeant then turned to Kenner and pointed at the line.

  “You! Get in line with the rest of them!”

  Kenner started to walk towards the line, but then felt the Sergeants boot kick him in the rear and causing him to fall to the ground.

  “When I tell you to move somewhere, I mean move like you’ve got a purpose!”

  Kenner was infuriated. He stood up as if to fight and then the Sergeant pushed him down again.

  “You want some of this maggot?” The Sergeant grunted.

  “That’s enough!” A familiar voice called.

  Kenner looked to the voice and saw the familiar figure of Captain Krall.

  “Get in line soldier.” The Captain ordered Kenner.

  The Sergeant snapped to attention and saluted Captain Krall.

  “So these are my new recruits?” Krall asked the Sergeant. He said it loud enough for the group to hear.

  “Unfortunately yes, sir!”

  Captain Krall walked up and down the line of men, briefly inspecting each one. He stopped at Kenner and nodded at him.

  “Not much are they?” Krall said.

  “Give me a few weeks with them, sir and I’ll turn them into soldiers.” The sergeant answered.

  “Unfortunately, we don’t have a few weeks. These men are needed immediately at the North Wall.”

  “Ordinarily,” Krall continued, “you would spend the next four weeks here in these barracks learning how to be soldiers. However, one of the stations at the wall is in immediate need of replacements and the Army has none to give of seasoned, veteran soldiers; not for a dead end like the North Wall anyway. Therefore, you will be sent to this horrible place instead.”

  “You all have one thing in common. You have been convicted of petty crimes and given the choice of serving in the Army or being punished in some painful and humiliating way. Fortunately, for you, you have chosen to serve. This means if you do die out there on the Wall, you will die with, at least some honor.”

  Captain Krall then turned to the Sergeant.

  “Take these poor souls, get them equipped and then get them ready to go. We leave in one hour.”

  Kenner and the rest of the recruits were then marched into a small building with soldiers drilling outside of it. Once inside, they were greeted by a short and fat soldier who was bald and had a grey beard.

  “More dead meat?” He asked the Sergeant.

  He examined the first recruit in line for a few seconds, and then placed a breastplate over the new soldier’s chest. Several other men then began placing other parts of armor on the soldier’s arms and legs.

  “This doesn’t fit.” The
soldier complained.

  “I don’t care.” He said, spitting on the ground.

  Every soldier in the line, including Kenner was treated in the same way.

  Moving along through the building, they were given more equipment, including water canteens, metal plates and eating utensils, flints, a torch, bandages, six feet of rope, socks, a blanket and a pack to put all these items in. They were also given four square pieces of hard tack.

  “That’s in case you’re out in the field with no cook at your disposal.” The Sergeant said laughing. His laugh sounded like the wheeze of an old man who had smoked too much. Before they left the supply depot, they were each fitted with a helmet and for all of them; the helmet was either too big or too small. Before Kenner walked out, he heard Captain Krall call out to the supply person.

  “Wait.” He said. “This one’s an archer.”

  The supply person then handed Kenner a long bow, a quiver full of arrows and a something that looked only slightly larger than a dagger.

  “What is this,” Kenner asked unsheathing the blade, “a letter opener?”

  “It’s the difference between life and death if you’re ever in close quarter combat, you worthless piece of filth.” The Sergeant responded. “Now get back in line!”

  The new recruits were then instructed on how to pack their supplies in their packs. Kenner was also instructed how to properly wear his quiver and short sword over his armor. They were then put in line and marched out of the gate of the barracks. The Sergeant kept them in close cadence and screamed profanities at any soldier that was out of step. They marched through the city streets and eventually out of the city. The people in the streets and on the main road made way for them.

  They marched for several hours on the main road. Some began limping as their new boots didn’t quite fit. Kenner still had the boots his father had made for him and didn’t have that problem. However, his ill-fitting armor chaffed his shoulders and began to scratch the inside of his legs. Eventually, they came to a cross roads with horses and two carts waiting there.

  “Alright you criminals!” The Sergeant yelled. “Get on those carts!”

  Kenner and the rest climbed into the straw-lined carts that were tied to the horses.

  “Oh thank the spirits.” One soldier moaned.

  “Quiet you or I’ll have you march the rest of the way!”

  One soldier started to take off his helmet and the sergeant slapped him on the back of his head.

  “Nobody told you to get out of uniform you filth!”

  Kenner made himself as comfortable as possible in the straw, but he also sat so that he could see out of it. As he settled into the straw, he saw Captain Krall riding a brown horse go in front of the carts.

  “Alright,” he called. “Let’s get under way.” He began trotting ahead and the carts followed him.

  Chapter Seven

  The caravan moved slowly but steadily through the afternoon and into the evening; stopping only for the men to have a meal of dried, smoked meat. They stopped again when the sun had set and it was beginning to get dark.

  “Alright!” The Sergeant yelled. “Let’s get a fire going.”

  “No,” Captain Krall interjected. “We don’t have time. We’ll have to ride through the night in order to get to Mobrey by morning.”

  Kenner knew that Mobrey was a city on the Serpent River. The river and its tributaries snaked its way north and south through Walechia; nearly dividing it in half. Kenner had never actually seen it; but he had heard that it was the longest and widest river in the known world. It reputedly stretched twenty miles across and from the Southern Sea all the way to the Badlands. Why the river, he thought to himself? It may have been, he imagined a faster way to get to the North Wall than by horse and cart.

  Captain Krall sat quietly by his horse and watched the new soldiers sitting in a circle; wondering to himself how many of them would be dead in a matter of a few days. He wondered to himself if he would also be dead in that same time.

  The King had been furious with him for not stopping Prince Melkur from killing the two young men he had captured. But what could he have done, he thought? If he had placed a hand on the Prince, he might have been arrested and executed for assault “on the Royal person” of the Prince. It had happened before. Nothing he could have said would have made a difference. But the King was right, he told himself. He should have done something. Now here he was on the way to the last place in the world he wanted to be.

  “Not a promising lot, are they?” the Sergeant asked. He handed the Captain a metal cup with coffee and sat beside him.

  “No,” Krall answered. “Not exactly our best and brightest.”

  “We should still have some time to whip them into shape when we get to The Wall.” The sergeant said, trying to sound encouraging.

  “I hope you’re right. Otherwise their lives are about to be very short.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Krall sighed deeply and took a thoughtful drink from his cup.

  “The North Wall is under siege. Post number two reports hundreds of enemy soldiers camped within archery range with reinforcements arriving every day. The post has already lost its Captain and more than half of their numbers.”

  “More than half?” The Sergeant almost gasped. “And we’re only sending a dozen? We should be sending an army.”

  “The Congress doesn’t agree.”

  “To hell with the Congress! The King is the Commander in Chief!”

  Captain Krall saw several of the soldiers look up after the Sergeant’s exclamation.

  “Not so loud.” He ordered.

  “The Congress has to approve any large number of troops to be used for any purpose,” Krall continued. “And before they do that, they demand that a committee be formed to ascertain the validity of the request. The King asked for a committee to be sent, but the Congress refused.”

  “That’s insane.” The Sergeant said, disgusted.

  “Yes, it is.”

  The two were quiet for a moment; then the Sergeant spoke to ease the tension.

  “That archers a promising one,” He said. “Have you seen the look in his eyes? He’s a fighter that one. I can’t say the same for the rest.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” Krall answered quietly. He then found himself smiling at the image of him sending the Prince to the ground. “If any of us survive what’s waiting for us at The Wall, it’ll be him.”

  It was the worst coffee Kenner had ever had; but he told himself that he should probably get used to it. If he was going to serve in Walechia’s army, these and other inconveniences would need to be gotten used to. Still he’d eaten for three days in a row and couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

  Life in the hills was difficult. It was often cold; the work to keep the village going was hard and food was always scarce. When he had come of age, the elders of his village put him on a hunting team with the responsibility of hunting food for the entire village. His wasn’t the only team. There had to be others in order to assure that the village had enough food to go around. But he was the best archer in the village and rarely failed to bring home a kill. His hunting missions had become longer as he had been forced by the deer migrations to search farther away from the village. That was what brought him in to the woods where he had been caught.

  He couldn’t help but almost laugh at the irony of his current predicament. Just three days before, he was a villager who hated the very thought of Walechia and its King. Now, here he was wearing the uniform of a Walechian soldier; and pledged to five years’ service. He’d eaten for three days in a row and was drinking coffee for the first time since he last left his village. As he thought of these things, he tried not to think of his two cousins. His heart had him blaming himself, even though his mind tried to remind him that there was nothing he could have done to prevent the tragedy. When he closed his eyes, even to blink, he could see the horrible images of their last moments.


  “What’s your crime?” One of the recruits asked him. It startled him a little, bringing him out of his deep thoughts.

  “Poaching,” he said quietly.

  “Really? That must be why you’ve got a bow.”

  “Hey!” Another soldier said. “When do we get weapons?”

  “You’ll get them when you get them!” The Sergeant said kicking one of the recruits. “Now get off your asses and back on to those carts!”

  They loaded on to the carts and Kenner tried to make himself comfortable.

  “What do you think will happen when we get where we’re going?” One of the recruits asked.

  “Hopefully we’ll be given weapons and shields.” Another answered.

  “Go ahead and take off your helmets, boys!” The Sergeant called from the other cart. “Try to get some sleep. You’ll need all the rest you can get.

  Hours went by and as he began to doze, Kenner began to stare at the sky above him. It was partly cloudy with a full moon peeking through the thin clouds. At one point, a cloud curved around the moon making it look like a single eye. As he watched this vision, he felt as if the eye were looking directly at him; watching him for some reason. Hearing the sounds of the others sleeping made him even more sleepy and he dozed off into more uneasy dreams.

 

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