The Black Sword Trilogy: The Poacher

by VanMeter, Jeffery

  “How so?” Terri asked.

  “They get secretive and sad; like it’s some kind of national security thing. Their eyes get as big as saucers and they act like they’ve been stabbed.”

  “Who was your father?” Terri asked him.

  “His name was Banner.”

  Terri suddenly looked up at him with an expression of great surprise.

  “Oh not you too!” Kenner exclaimed.

  “I think I’m going to need another cigar.” Terri said standing.

  “What the hell is going on?” Kenner yelled.

  Terri turned around with a look of both awe and confusion. She then looked down the hall to see that it was empty and closed the door.

  “Do you not know who your father was before you were born?” She asked.

  “I know he was a soldier and that he was banished.” Kenner answered, even more frustrated.

  “Did your father talk much about his life before being banished?”

  “Dad wasn’t much of a conversationalist; except when it came to endless platitudes and how much of an ass the King was.”

  “Well, I imagine he would have held a grudge against the King.”

  Kenner then sat on the edge of the bed leaning towards Terri.

  “Alright,” He said. “You’re not going to walk out of here like Pol did.”

  “As much ale as I’ve had, I may not walk out of here at all.”

  “Stay focused, Terri. I need to know what you know.”

  “I know a lot of things.”

  “Don’t mess with me right now.” Kenner almost growled at her. She tried filling her cup with more ale, but Kenner stopped her. She then gave him a more serious look than he’d ever seen from her before.

  “Your father was one of the greatest warriors this nation; possibly even this world has ever seen.”

  The statement was like a cold wind blowing in Kenner’s face.

  “I don’t know all of the details,” She continued. “In fact, there’s probably more legend than truth when it comes to that name. But what I do know is that were it not for your father, this nation may be under the rule of King Causton not Philas.”

  Now it was Kenner who felt in awe; but even more confused. My father was a general, he asked himself? A hero?

  “When I was a little girl,” Terri went on, “our bedtime stories were of Banner and his deeds. We, the other children and I, heard stories of him killing a hundred men with his bare hands. We heard how he rode a white horse through the center of Causton’s army killing everything in sight. And of course, we heard of how Banner killed Causton.”

  “This I want to hear.” Kenner quickly interrupted.

  “Well, the basis of the story is that King Philas charged at Causton on his own horse, fell off and was about to be killed by, depending on who’s telling the story a dozen or a hundred enemy soldiers, including Causton. Banner rode, or flew out of nowhere, killed the enemy soldiers and pulled the King to safety. He then dueled with Causton, some say he lost his arm or his leg; again depending on who’s telling the story and then killed Causton and took his head.”

  Kenner almost fell back against the wall. His head felt light and the room began to spin.

  “That’s the short version.” Terri added.

  Kenner searched for something to say; anything. This was incredible, he thought to himself. His father a legendary hero. Why hadn’t he ever said anything?

  “Well, I can tell you one thing,” Kenner said as much to hear his own voice as anything else; “he didn’t lose either his arm or leg.”

  “A shame.” Terri added, taking another drink. “I rather liked the story of him using his leg to bash enemy soldier’s heads.”

  “Is that really one of the stories?”

  “I made the last part up.”

  Kenner stared at the ceiling trying to make sense of what he’d just heard. Could his father really be the person Terri was talking about?

  “Maybe you’re all talking about a different Banner.” He said.

  “If people are reacting the way you say they are, I doubt it.”

  Kenner barely heard her. This was simply too much for him to take in at once. For virtually his entire life, his father had been a simple villager who happened to be a good fighter. He worked hard in the farm fields. He disappeared for days at a time hunting. He had been become both father and mother after Kenner’s mother passed away and the only time he ever said more than a few words was to curse the King. This man couldn’t be the same Terri had just described.

  “And with that,” Terri said abruptly. “It’s time for me to leave.”

  “Where are you going?” Kenner snapped.

  “I’m going back to my room to sleep off this drunk I’ve been working on all night. I suggest you try to get some sleep as well.”

  “After what you’ve just told me, I don’t think so.”

  As she stood in the door, Terri turned around and Kenner saw that her familiar grin had returned.

  “You know,” She said. “I really like the idea of you being the son of Banner.”

  “How so?”

  “Just think of the stories I’ll be in, when all the wars we fight are over.”

  She then stumbled down the hall to her own room.

  Chapter Forty Three

  The following morning began, for Kenner with a knock at the door. Kenner rose to answer the door and found a soldier dressed in full armor on the other side of the door.

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” He said to Kenner. “General Pol asked me to wake you.”

  Kenner thanked the soldier and then started to get dressed. After washing his face to help him wake up more, he discovered that his armor was on him without him having put it on himself.

  He went downstairs and when he walked out of the inn, he found Terri next to a horse rubbing her forehead.

  “You look like hell.” He told her.

  “One of these days,” She groaned, “someone is going to invent something to put over a person’s eyes to prevent the sunlight from turning a person’s head into an anvil.”

  Kenner looked around for Shela and found a nervous looking soldier holding the rope around her neck that had previously tied her to the post outside the inn. Kenner was surprised when he saw her, though. She was covered in armor that appeared made specifically for her with a saddle that was part of her back plate.

  “We found some armor that fits your mount.” Said General Pol smiling.

  Kenner strode up to the huge cat and took the rope from the grateful soldier.

  “What do you think old girl?” Kenner asked Shela. She gave a low, but seemingly approving growl and then Kenner climbed into her saddle.

  “All hail the King!” Called a voice from behind them. Shela turned and Kenner saw the King and his escort, including soldiers holding banners and Prince Melkur. Melkur then rode up to Kenner with his, now familiar smirk on his lips.

  “Walechian soldiers all wear the image of the Great Tower on their breastplates, poacher,” He said to Kenner. “I’m afraid you’re out of uniform.”

  Kenner then saw the Prince’s and others eyes widen. Some of the soldiers on the ground backed away and some gasped. Kenner heard Terri laugh and then looked at his chest. Where there had been previously nothing, there was now an image of the Great Tower on his breastplate.

  “How about that?” Kenner said.

  The Prince’s sneer disappeared and then the King led them all down the streets and then, eventually out of the Iron Gates.

  Waiting outside the gates was an army prepared for war. Hundreds of soldiers stood in massive formations and then snapped to attention as the King and his officers proceeded past them. It took Kenner’s breath away as he had never seen anything like it in his life. Almost all of the formations had an officer on horseback in front of them, except one. The King rode up to that formation and then addressed Kenner.

  “This company is for you to command.” The King told Kenner. “They are veteran sold
iers who have served this nation in many campaigns. They are fierce fighters and loyal unto death. I order you to command them well and treat them fairly. Do that and these men will fight and die at your command as if your words were the voice of the Great Lady herself.”

  The King rode off leaving Kenner facing his new troops. For a moment, he felt almost afraid and unworthy. Then he placed his hand on the hilt of the sword and it again filled him with confidence.

  “I do not want you to fight and die at my command,” He heard himself saying.

  His troops looked a little confused at these words.

  “I want you to fight and make your enemy die at my command.”

  At these words, he saw smiles cross the faces of his soldiers and they stood straighter and taller.

  “I do not want others to tell stories of the deeds you did in battle. I want you to tell your own tales of how you fought bravely and of the enemies you slew.”

  He then remembered one of the platitudes of his father.

  “No soldier ever won a war by dying for his country. Soldiers win wars by making the other poor bastard die for his country! And that is how we, and I mean all of us will win the war that is coming; not with words or stories, but by killing more of them than they kill of us and then going home to tell about it. Does that sound simple enough?”

  The man at the head of the company; whom Kenner guessed to be the Sergeant raised his short sword.

  “Hail Captain Kenner!” He yelled and the company all screamed, “Hail!”

  At the head of the formation was another company without an officer. In addition to their armor, they had bows and quivers of arrows.

  “These are some of the finest archers in Walechia!” The King told Terri. “Command them well and treat them fairly, just as I have ordered your friend Kenner and they will be as loyal to you as they have proven to be to me.”

  The King rode away from them, leaving Terri with her troops.

  “Who wants to be the first to kill a Wolfen?” She called to her troops. Several raised their hands.

  “What was that?”

  “I!” called out one and then another.

  “Oh come on! Who wants to be the first to kill a Wolfen?”

  They then all raised their hands and shouted, “I!”

  “I can’t hear you!”

  And then they all shouted as loud as they could.

  “It looks like you chose well to allow them to purchase commissions.” The King told Pol.

  “I had a good feeling about them.” Pol replied.

  Not long after that, several coaches passed through the gates and to the head of the army.

  “I see the panel has arrived, Your Majesty.” Pol said.

  When the coaches stopped in front of the King, Erlot got out of one of them and addressed the King.

  “Your Majesty,” He said grandly. “After a special session of the panel last night, we have reconsidered…”

  “Too late!” The King cut him off abruptly and then rode to several yards in front of the massive formation. He then turned, drew his sword and shouted as loud as he could, “Forward!” The army then began marching along the main road leading out of Kallesh. The ground shook and the sound of two thousand feet marching in time echoed off of the great plain.

  After several hours of marching along the main road, the army came to a cross road where hundreds of horses, mules and carts were waiting for them. Kenner, still at the head of his own company saw the King call the army to halt and then he started coming down the line of companies. The King then spoke to his generals who then went down the lines speaking to each company and captain. As Kenner saw this, he saw soldiers breaking their formations and then load on to the carts. He then turned to his own company and say, “You didn’t think we were going to walk all the way to Mobrey, did you?” He heard them laugh and then oversaw them loading onto their own carts.

  As his company did this, General Pol then rode to in front of Kenner.

  “I see you didn’t have to be told what to do.” He said to Kenner.

  “Is this normal?” Kenner asked, not sure.

  “Not really.” Pol answered. “But we’re in a hurry, this time.”

  Kenner was reminded of his own journey to Mobrey so long ago. Could it really have only been a month since then, he asked himself? The road was the same. The carts all looked the same and the weather was almost the same as it had been; what seemed like so long before.

  “You look like you’re lost in thought.” Kenner heard the voice of Terri. She rode up beside him as he and Shela rode next the carts carrying his men.

  “Don’t you have a company of your own to take care of?” He asked her.

  “I ordered them all to sleep. They’ll need as much rest as they can.”

  Kenner looked to his own men and saw that they were mostly all asleep.

  “I’d order mine to do the same thing, but they seem to be ahead of me.” He told her.

  “Isn’t this incredible?” She asked him. “I must confess, I’ve never seen an entire army like this before.”

  “It’s quite a sight.” Kenner replied. “I’m trying not to think of how many might die in the days to come.”

  “You and me both.”

  At that moment, General Pol rode up beside them.

  “I heard the little speech you gave your men,” He said to Kenner. “Quite impressive.”

  “I just said what came into my head.” Kenner answered him.

  “It’s confidence that they look for more than anything else.” Pol continued. “Courage manifests itself in deeds, but before courage can inspire, they must see confidence. Show them that and they’ll follow far enough to see your courage.”

  “You don’t have to worry about this one having courage, General.” Terri said. “He’s carrying his balls in a wheel barrow.”

  Just before sundown, the army stopped at, what Kenner thought must have been the same point he remembered from a month earlier. The men climbed out of their carts and stretched their legs. Soon other carts starting going up and down the line, all with pots of steaming soup in the back of them. The army rested, ate and then another cart came down the line with a large barrel of ale. Each man was given one cup full and then all the companies gathered around each other and the men leaned against their packs.

  Kenner took his cup of ale and sat down with his men.

  “Alright,” He said to them. “Who knows a good joke?”

  They all looked at each other.

  “Does it matter if it’s clean or not, sir?” One man asked.

  “Let’s try not to have it too filthy.” Kenner answered.

  “Alright,” the soldier began. “A man walks into a pub and on the bar, he sees a glass jar full of silver coins. So, he asks the bartender what the coins are for. The bartender tells him that the jar is a contest. Whoever wins the contest gets all the coins in the jar. So…what’s the contest, the man asks? Well, says the bartender, there are three challenges. First, the bartender says and reaches under the bar and pulls out a bottle of blood, red liquid. What’s that, the man asks? This, the bartender says is fresh whiskey mixed with hot, red pepper juice. Whoever is in the contest has to drink this entire bottle without coughing, puking or crying. Alright, the man says; what’s the second challenge? The bartender then points to a door in the back of the pub. In there, he says is the meanest dog in the world and he has a bad tooth that has to be pulled. Ok, the man says; what’s the third challenge. The bartender leans forward, whispers in his ear and says, there’s an old woman at the top of those stairs who’s never had an orgasm before. Really, the man asks? Yes, says the bartender. Someone has to set her straight.”

  “Well, at first the man thinks it impossible; but after a few ales he decides he’s ready. He puts a silver coin in the jar and tells the bartender he’s going to do it. So the bartender pulls out the bottle of blood red liquor and the man chugs it down in one swallow. His eyes burn and tears stream down his face. But he doesn’t
puke and he doesn’t cough up one drop. So then the bartender gives him the key to the room with the dog in it. The man goes in and then the sounds of a thousand battles at once fills the bar. Chairs break. The dog barks and growls, a window shatters and then the dog lets out this long, loud howl the likes of which no man had ever heard before. The man comes out. His clothes are torn, his skin has cuts and scratches all over it; but he hobbles up to the bar and says with a grin, alright…where’s that old woman with the bad tooth?”

  Kenner and his company all erupt in laughter.

  Meanwhile, over at Terri’s company, she was finishing a joke of her own.

  “So the bear says to the man, you don’t come out here for the hunting, do you?” Her company all begin howling with laughter when General Pol came up to them.

  “Break time’s over.” He said to her.

  “Alright, boys!” She said to them. “Back in the carts.”

  General Pol told both Kenner and Terri to tie their horse and battle cat to one of the carts and try to sleep. Kenner tried to refuse, saying that if his cat was going to have to be up all night, so would he.

  “That was an order, Captain.” Pol told him with a hint of anger. Shela gave a moaning sound that said she would be alright.

  “Battle cats are known for their stamina.” Pol told him.

  Kenner rubbed Shela’s neck and then got into one of the carts with his men.

  Just as Kenner had climbed into the cart, he saw towards the horizon a dark mass moving across the plain. His heart starting beating faster as he thought for a moment that it might be the Wolfen army. However, there wasn’t enough of them to be the enemy. Then he heard a horn sound from the mass and General Pol came down the line to Kenner.

  “It’s men!” Pol called out. “It must be the garrison from Post One.”