by Jack Cage
“Impressive, Brother. Are you still sure you are not a warrior?” Amri said with tremendous pride. The room was filled with quiet murmurs as men tended to Endesha’s opponent. They did not applaud until the man was able to vomit out the hay in enough time to breathe the precious air he had been denied.
As the room continued to applaud their approval, King Miles turned to Stuart and whispered, “The use of the hay in this violent display is a sign of intellect. This could be very promising.”
“Indeed, Father,” Stuart replied.
“Now that we know what the smaller one is capable of, what of the larger one?” King Phillip said loudly. “John Forrester is one of my most celebrated knights of the Red Guard Cavalry, a worthy test for the largest of the Moors, I reckon. Let us see if Sir Forrester can prove this man’s abilities are as formidable as the other one.” The circle of men opened up to Amri, revealing the large and muscular Forrester—his blue eyes glaring mightily at the Sefu man. His long blond beard and dirty-blond locks were moistened from the temperature in the room, along with Forrester’s sweat-filled hatred of any opponent that stood before him. [DS8]
Amri walked slowly toward him while glancing at the people around the room. They applauded the un-armored Knight of the Red Guard as he raised his muscular arms into the air relishing in the room’s uproar.
Amri, like his brother, stood motionless during the theatrics. As the applause died, Sir Forrester ran toward the still-larger Sefu man, who was already estimating the timing of his attack.
Time stood still. Voices turned into muffled tones as Amri’s heart began beating violently in his chest, but the warrior in him was at peace. He was alive again; free to do what he enjoyed the most. Free to release what he suppressed the most, the pain he felt from losing all of the things closest to him. Amri’s rage grew as he thought of the loss of his home, mother, and the woman he loved.
As Forrester approached Amri in full stride he made the unfortunate error in stopping just short of Amri’s reach in order to pull his arm back and deliver a strike to Amri’s face with his right fist. This was indeed unfortunate because Amri simultaneously moved his right foot back in order to gather the necessary footing to deliver a crushing downward blow to Sir Forrester’s face with his right elbow and forearm. Amri could not contain his emotions within the movement. His muscles were tense with rage and obeyed Amri’s wish for maximum damage.
The blow to the Red Guard knight’s face left him unconscious but still standing for a fleeting moment before he fell forward onto the hay lined ground. Amri stayed battle-ready until the knight started to convulse violently. Moments afterward, Sir Forrester began to scream and moaned as blood gushed from the left side of his head and within moments his shaking went still[DS9]. Amri was breathing calmly as the room was hushed by the demonstration of his immense physical power.
The room snapped back to attention and several gasps could be heard when they realized the knight of the Red Guard was dead.
Shocked at what he had just witnessed, King Phillip said, “It appears that Sir Forrester was unable to provide a suitable challenge for the Moor. We shall be thankful for his years of loyalty to our kingdom, and he will be greatly missed.”
He then pointed to Amri and said, “Take him to the dungeons immediately!”
This would be the first time the Harkstead guards had been afraid to follow a direct order from their king. “Restrain, him before you leave unless you want to join Sir Forrester in the afterlife.”
Amri was placed in shackles and was gently guided toward the hallway that would lead him down into the dungeons of Harkstead Castle.
As the guests left the gathering, King Phillip told Stuart, “Both of those men are truly special fighters. Imagine what they could do with proper training?”
“Indeed, the larger one is the most formidable fighter I have ever seen,” Stuart replied.
“Ensure the larger one is well fed down in the dungeons and his brother as well. Have him returned to his father later on today.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Stuart ordered the guards to escort Endesha back to the stables. He walked slowly as he was still trying to shake off the sting of the blows to his face. Endesha made his way up the stairs leading to the attic above the stables, to find his father, Zuberi, was waiting to receive him. He stood proudly with the assistance of a plank of wood, and his prideful smile was bright as daylight. He welcomed his warrior son with open arms. “My son, you did well. I told you both your tests were coming, and both of you were wonderful.”
“Where do you think they took Amri, Father?” Endesha asked.
“I believe they took him back to that terrible place where we were before.”
“Do you think he is in danger?”
“No, my son. Amri has proven his worth, and they will not risk hurting him. They will be more afraid of him now than ever before. This is exactly what I told you two was going to happen. Let me look at you.”
Zuberi inspected his youngest son’s face. “You’ll live.” Endesha smiled confidently. “Tell me, why did you reach for the yellow grass?” Zuberi asked.
“I remembered an old lesson from Coffa. He once told me to remember what the land gives me because I can use it to survive. So, when I noticed the yellow grass on the ground, I knew I could use it to my advantage. I figured the man would not be able to fight on the slippery grass, and if I could get him off his feet I could defeat him.”
“You did very well, Son. I am so proud of you.” Zuberi pat Endesha on the back with great pride.
25
D eep with the dungeons of Harkstead Castle, Amri Sefu sat on the ground. He was waiting to see if he would finally meet the death he had eluded for all of these years. Violence had never been a concern for Amri. In the back of his mind he always knew his actions would eventually have a severe price to pay, and that debt would be paid with his life.
After the swift defeat of King Phillip’s most valuable soldier, Amri figured this was the end of his path and he would be reunited with his mother and dear uncle. However, Amri was proven wrong when he saw the Red Guard assemble in the dungeon hallway for the first time. He noticed this was a significantly different looking group of men than he had seen previously. Their full body armor clanged as they walked toward him as a form of announcement of their presence. The Red Guard knight’s faces were covered by helmets adorned with various crimson fabrics and feathers, which complemented their uniformed appearance.
Suddenly, the guards came to attention, and each line turned to face each other within the hallway, creating a path between them. Their coordinated movement signaled someone important was approaching and that someone was Fitzgerald Singletary.
“Captain,” said one of the Red Guardsmen as he moved aside to allow Singletary to enter Amri’s cell.
He was wearing a suit of armor that was similar to the rest of the men, but shined like nothing Amri had ever seen before. The Sefu warrior did not stand to his feet as Singletary entered the cell.
“You may not understand me, but I do believe you understand war,” he said. Water, bread, and a chair were brought into the cell by one of the guards.
Singletary sat in front of Amri with his sheathed sword on the ground to his right. “Drink.” As the two men drank the captain continued talking. “I know you do not understand me now, but in time you will learn our language. I believe you are more than what those men who brought you here thought you were.” He broke a large piece of freshly baked bread and offered it to Amri. “I see something in you I have never seen before. Your brutality is your greatest asset, but I will show you how to multiply your effectiveness with this.”
Singletary lifted his sword off the ground, stood to his feet, and unsheathed his sword. He then motioned Amri to stand as well. “A sword cannot be wielded properly if it is unbalanced,” he said. He then placed the sword in his hands horizontally and presented it to Amri. Reluctant, Amri took the sword from the captain, still horizontal, and looked at the fin
e details on the sword. The hilt featured an elegant knurling which facilitated a secure grip, and the cross-guard was formed with an equally elegant twisting of iron. Amri moved the sword into his right hand—it felt like an extension of his fingers. Without intention, he mistakenly pointed the sword at Singletary, and the Red Guard’s armor clanked with intent to rush into the cell. The captain calmly used two fingers to redirect the blade to the side, while signaling the guards to return to formation with his free hand.
Amri turned the sword and twisted it with his wrist. It was light toward the tip, yet heavy in his hand. Singletary noticed the lack of space between the Moors giant hand and the grip.
“You will require a longer hilt, but we have some blades in the armory that you should be able to use. Going forward, you and I will be spending much time together.
I will show you how to wield a sword properly, and in time you will be a great swordsman. For now, you will join your father and brother, and never forget, if you attempt to harm anyone else, your life will most assuredly end.”
Amri did not understand what he had been told, but could tell he would not be tested again. He could easily surmise that his actions could be life threatening for the rest of his family.
Amri gave Singletary his sword back, and watched as he placed it into its scabbard and walked out of the cell. The now familiar clank of the Red Guard’s armor was heard as the men came to attention as Fitzgerald exited the cell and walked down the hallway. As Fitzgerald proceeded down the hallway, the guards, two at a time, turned and followed behind until there were none left in the hallway.
Moments later, a large man came to Amri’s cell. “Let’s go, you ugly monster,” said Sam. As Amri exited the cell, Sam pushed him in the back. Amri stopped short, and turned toward him. “Keep going if you know what is best for you.” He pulled his sword from its scabbard. Amri begrudgingly took the constant pushing from behind as Sam guided him back to the stables.
Endesha was relieved to see his brother was still alive as he saw Amri and Sam approach the stables. “Get up there you bloody mongrel,” said Sam as he delivered one last shove to the Sefu’s back. Amri leered at the man as he proceeded up the stairs. “One day, I will kill you with my bare hands, no weapons will be needed,” Amri said out loud in his Sefu language as he pointed to his escort with his index finger.
Sam walked away grunting to himself as Amri was welcomed by his brother and father. “Son, you did well,” Zuberi said.
“It is good to see you alive, Brother,” Endesha said.
“It is good to see you both,” Amri replied. “Did you see our battles, Father?”
“Yes, I did, and you were who you are,” Zuberi replied.
“I was more impressed with Endesha’s battle,” Amri said as he presented some of the bread he had been given earlier by Singletary.
“Where did you get this from?” Endesha asked.
“The man that talks to us gave it to me,” Amri replied. “I think he has found a purpose for us. He allowed me to hold his weapon, and I believe he is going to show me how to use their weapons.”
“Of course, they are,” Zuberi said. “You are not the only one they will train, Amri. They have found a purpose for both of you, and now you will see how your destines will be fulfilled in this place.”
“This time his talk with me was different. He came with many men dressed in the hard, shining shells, like the kind we saw when we first arrived here,” Amri said. “They looked like they were his village’s warriors, and he was their chief.”
“How did you gain his weapon?” Endesha asked.
“He gave it to me.”
“What did it feel like?” Zuberi asked.
“I don’t know how to describe it, but it felt like it was a part of me, and I want to hold it again.”
“You should expect them to begin your training very soon,” said Zuberi confidently.
“Do you believe we can survive in this place, Father?” Endesha asked.
“We have no choice but to try. Our goal should be to do whatever it takes to survive here. If we have to kill, then we shall kill. If we are to obey their wishes, then we shall do so.
I need both of you to promise me, whatever happens, you will do these things. Even if something happens to me,” said Zuberi.
“If anything happens to you, I will not need to obey anyone,” Amri said as he looked over the stable wall, observing the metalsmith working in the distance.
“Amri, you cannot spend your days searching for the death that you believe abandoned you,” Zuberi said.
“I don’t look for it, Father, but I am not afraid of it either,” Amri replied. “I just want to go home, and if I am doomed to be here in this place, then I would rather be carried home by the winds like a feathery seed. At least that way I may have a chance to see our land once again.”
“I do not want to die in this land,” Endesha said while looking down on the horses below. “Amri, you may be looking to be carried away by the wind on your death, but I see a chance to explore.
I want to know all there is to learn about this place. You seek to destroy this land, and I seek to learn more about it.”
“No. I seek to destroy anyone that wishes harm against us, Brother. Nothing more.”
“Must you bring strife and sadness too, Amri?” Endesha asked, visibly angry.
“Have you ever thought about how your actions could affect Father?”
“I don’t want Father to be hurt, Endesha. I want everything we used to have, I want things to be like they were when we were younger.”
“You mean before the lion attack?”
“Yes. Since that terrible day, so many years ago, I have forgotten what it is like to be me. Since then, I have been cursed, and everything, and everyone around me are cursed as well.” Amri sat down and looked at the floor.
“Your troubles, Son, are of your own creation. You believe you lost yourself in the mist of that lion attack, but you gained your strength from it. The things you can do in battle were not because of the lion. That power was already inside you. The lion gave you a shell, like the tortoises by our old watering hole.” Zuberi looked deeply into his eldest son’s eyes. “We may not be free in this place, but you are the freest of the three of us, Amri.”
“I do not understand, Father,” Amri replied.
“The lion attack gave you the freedom to fight without fear. That is one of the greatest assets a warrior can have. A fighter that is not afraid can be a leader of men, or a killer of many men. Take this time to find your peace, Amri. Make the connection with your inner-self, so you can learn how to channel your fury into pure, intelligent thoughts. It will make you far more effective as a fighter,” Zuberi said sternly. He took a big bite of the bread in his hand before turning to address his younger son.
“Endesha, you may not believe your calling is to be a warrior, but in this land, that is what you are.
Your childlike stubbornness is not useful anymore. You, like your brother, must adapt and grow. You must also look within your inner-self to learn how to take advantage of your natural ability to fight. If you do not, Endesha, you will be no different than Armi in making things unsafe for us in this land.”
“Father is right. You have to accept who you are and quit running away from what you are,” said Amri.
Endesha stood and started pacing from one end of the attic to the next, finally coming to a stop to sit next to his father.
“I know what you are trying to tell me. I also know Amri and I have to do what these men want us to do, but I don’t like it. I realize now that we are not free in this place. We were better off on the waters,” said Endesha.
“Brother, we shall do as Father says and work together to keep ourselves safe. But know this, Endesha, if anything happens to our father, you and I will have nothing left to live for other than each other. When that time comes, you will have to make a decision,” Amri said as he sat down next to his brother and father.
“What
kind of decision is that?” Endesha asked.
“To join me in eliminating everyone here, or run away without me,” Amri said as he stared at the weapons in the adjacent training room below.
26
P rince Stuart hastened down the castle corridor. He had been summoned to his father’s throne room, and as he hurried there, he came upon Fitzgerald Singletary. “His Majesty sent for you as well?” asked Stuart.
“Yes, it sounds as if it is important,” Singletary replied.
The two entered King Phillip Miles’ chambers to find him sitting on his throne waiting for them. It was a fine and majestic chair made from some of the finest wood in England, and carved by one of the best craftsmen in the Midland Kingdom. King Phillip loved to sit in it and look down on the people four steps below. The throne room was a grand place with extremely high ceilings, smooth stone floors, and intricate stone walls that echoed the king’s voice as he spoke.
“Men, come forward,” said King Phillip.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the two men replied in tandem.
“I summoned you here because I have word that Carpenter is gathering another army,” said King Phillip.
“We have defeated him before, Father, and we shall do it again,” Stuart said.
“Do not be over confident, my son. According to our informants his new cavalry alone will be three times as large as his first one.
The Carpenter has enlisted the services of a former soldier of ours, Peter Harris of Derron,” King Phillip said while gritting his teeth.
Singletary looked to Stuart with a puzzled look on his face. “Lord Harris? Why does that name sound familiar?” he asked.
“He was the leader of the Red Guard before I took control,” Stuart replied.
“Indeed, and he had aspirations to do more than that,” King Phillip said.
“What do you mean, Father?”
“When you were much younger, Son, Lord Harris demanded that I give him control of the city of Derron as a gift from one family member to another,” King Phillip replied.