Slaves to the Sword

by Jack Cage

  The soldier’s cheered despite their Sefu-delivered wounds giving them much pain and discomfort. Amri kept to himself as the men gathered their belongings and began mounting their horses. Singletary walked up to Amri and said, “You did well today, Amri, and you managed to not kill anyone.”

  “If I had, would you have stopped them from trying to kill me?” Amri asked.

  It took a moment before Singletary responded, but when he finally did, he avoided Amri’s question, and instead said, “The men got a chance to see they were lacking skills which is a problem you do not seem to have, Amri.” The captain took back Amri’s sword, and inspected it and cleaned it with a cloth before putting it back in its scabbard. “It appears you have been doing some practicing on your own. There were several instances in which you performed skills I did not teach you.”

  “I learn quickly.”

  “I believe you are holding back on your true abilities. I would advise you to not seek an opportunity to use them because that would not favor well for the rest of your family.”

  Amri looked down at Singletary with suppressed anger as he mounted his Flemish and followed the captain back to Harkstead Castle.

  When the men returned, the stablemen took their horses. Endesha and Zuberi were waiting in a shadowy corner of the stable to see if Amri was one of the riders. For a moment, they were fearful the riders killed him, but to their relief, Amri was one of the last riders to re-enter the castle walls. He was visibly hurt with many bruises and blood covering his dark skin, but he was alive, and Zuberi was relieved when he said to Amri, “You did well, my son.”

  Endesha was able to get Amri up the stairs to the attic. “I told you they would not touch me,” Amri said to Endesha in the Sefu language.

  “It looks like they tried their best to not touch you,” Endesha replied.

  “Hold your tongue, Amri, and rest,” Zuberi commanded.

  Within moments, he was in a deep slumber. Endesha and his father gathered water and rags in preparation to clean Amri’s wounds. Zuberi lovingly cleaned Amri’s bloodied body, and much to his surprise, found the blood was not his. “Look Desha the blood on Amri is not his, it is from the defeated,” Zuberi said.

  “Maybe Amri has finally become what he did not want to be,” Endesha said.

  “What is that?”

  “A monster.”

  Amri slept through the night, the morning, and finally awoke at midday. The sun’s rays were not warm and inviting to Amri.

  It seemed like his body was waiting for him to wake so he could feel the pain he could not feel while sleeping. “Is it morning yet?” he asked.

  “Morning has long past, my son,” Zuberi replied.

  “How do you feel, Amri?” Endesha asked.

  “I’ve had better days,” he replied.

  “What did they do to you last night?” Zuberi asked.

  “They had me go against the members of a special fighting group that is supposed to be the best in the land.”

  “Were they any good?” Endesha asked.

  “Not really. They were better than I expected, but I was holding back. Father was right about not showing them my true abilities.”

  “They now know you have skills that could be superior to theirs. You must be careful, Amri,” Zuberi said.

  “I understand, Father. I will remain diligent in keeping my skills veiled.” Endesha brought Amri some food. He sat up and began to eat it very slowly. “There is an enemy of these men outside of this place called the Carpenter. The men that call themselves the Red Guard said he is building a large army and they must prepare for an attack at any moment. My job last night was to show the men what they were lacking in battle,” said Amri.

  “It sounds like they are not prepared for combat if you were holding back your abilities from them,” Zuberi said.

  “Indeed. I do not believe these men could stop an attack from this Carpenter person.”

  “I am glad you were able to defend yourself without killing anyone,” Endesha said as he looked at his father. “Amri, we are never going home. You know this and I do not want to die in this place.”

  “Hark-stead, is the name of this place, Endesha,” said Amri.

  “Harkstead Castle, not our home, but it is where we live,” Endesha said.

  “If this is not our home, then are we really living?” Amri replied.

  “What do you mean, my son?” Zuberi asked.

  “Father, we were chased out of our own village to live with another tribe, only to be banished away. Then it got worse; we were brought to this place on a boat, sold as human weapons, then forced to be a fighter and caretaker for a little boy. Is this living to you, Father?” Amri asked with despair in his eyes.

  Zuberi was shocked to see his warrior son so troubled. He wanted to tell him things were going to be all right, but he could not. He did not know what the future would bring, but he knew his time on earth was coming to an end. He worried that without his presence in his son’s lives they may lose their self-control and ultimately perish as well.

  Zuberi took a deep breath and with great sadness in his heart said, “Amri, we did have all of those terrible things happen to us, but you must understand they were for a reason. Your life could have ended years ago with that lion, but you survived then just as you have survived to this point. I know you miss our home, your mother, Coffa, and Nsia, but know that Endesha needs you, and you need him. Family is the only tie to our homeland that we have in this Hark-stead place.

  All the two of you have is each other, so you must work as hard as you can to survive for one another. I will not be here with you boys forever, and it is my wish that you two have long lives here in this place.”

  “Father, do not say such things. You will be with us for many more years,” Endesha said with confidence.

  “One day, you two will have children of your own, and you will tell them all of the stories of our homeland. You will teach them our Sefu language, and they will be great warriors just like you both are. Enough of this talk. Amri, you need to eat more. Endesha will help you walk afterwards.”

  “Yes, Father,” Amri and Endesha replied together.

  Many hours later, Amri was starting to feel better. He had spent much of the day resting, and that rest was helping his body repair itself. The consistent availability of food helped as well. The ease of access to sustenance over the last few years had also provided Amri and Endesha with physically imposing bodies.

  Their darkened skin, huge muscles, and tall stature had made them the subject of many whispers within Harkstead Castle.

  Amri was especially daunting with long black dreadlocks covering his scarred face. Many of the young maidens in Harkstead Castle had taken interest in visiting the stables, hoping to get a glimpse of the “Dark Warriors” that were rumored to be kept within. King Phillip had forbidden any female to be in the stables in an attempt to keep the owners of curious gazes from becoming vessels for Sefu passion.

  Stuart arrived at the stables with young Harold just as the sun started to set. “Hello, Endesha,” the young prince said.

  “Hello, Harold,” he replied.

  “We came here to tell you our father, King Phillip Miles, is requesting your presence in the throne room tomorrow evening,” Stuart said.

  “What is this about?” Amri asked suspiciously.

  “You will find out when it is time. If you are worried it will be like last night, I assure you now, it will not. Your efforts were appreciated, and I believe my father will not have you performing that function again. He has different plans.”

  Amri and Endesha looked to each other after Stuart’s last statement.

  “Can Endesha come with me to my room?” Harold asked Stuart.

  “No, Harold, let Endesha and his father tend to Amri. You will see them tomorrow.”

  As Stuart turned to go down the stairs, Harold waved goodbye to Endesha and the other Sefu men.

  His innocence and sincerity reminded the Sefu men that life
was indeed worth living knowing that at least one person did not believe them to be the monsters others saw them as.

  30

  T he next day, the Sefu brothers found themselves standing before King Phillip Miles, all of his top advisors, and personal servants in his majestic throne room. He was looking especially regal with his golden crown sitting perfectly atop his head as each graying hair seemed to be turned up or down with purpose.

  Prince Stuart and Fitzgerald Singletary escorted the Sefu brothers; both wore formal garments adorned with the crimson and gold colors of Harkstead Castle. Neither of the Sefu men seemed to be impressed with the king’s intentional display of regality, but this formal event was not for the benefit of the Sefu brothers. The intention of this display was to inform everyone within Harkstead Castle of a very important declaration as to who his “Dark Warriors” were and their new purpose to the crown.

  “Before me stand two Moors that many of you have never seen before. They come from a place very far from here. A place we will never go, nor would we ever want to visit. These Moors look like something from our most terrible dreams, and that is exactly what they are—demons and monsters—which is why they are here before you. Amri and Endesha are now my personal guards, and shall stand here beside me. Carpenter may have his army but he does not have two “Dark Warriors” at his side,” King Phillip proclaimed. He then motioned to Captain Singletary and told him, “See to it that Amri and Endesha are given clothing worthy of my excellence.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied.

  Endesha did not know what to think of the information they had been told. Amri was emotionless.

  In the back of his mind, he did not care what was being asked of him, he only wanted to know when he could return to the stables. Unfortunately, that was no longer going to be possible for the Sefu brothers.

  “Stuart, I want you and Singletary to escort these men to their quarters,” said King Phillip.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Stuart replied. “Guards!” Eight heavily armored guards with their swords drawn approached Amri and Endesha from behind. “This way gentlemen.”

  It was at that point, Amri and Endesha realized what their father had been preparing them for. At that precise moment, the two Sefu brothers knew their lives would never be the same, and their father had the foresight to see this before it had actually happened.

  As the Sefu brothers walked up the series of stairs to the main levels of Harkstead Castle, they could not help but notice the many fine paintings of former kings of the Midland Kingdom the sun revealed as it shone into the hallways. Where there were no paintings, the walls were adorned with tapestries and fine artifacts that gave Harkstead Castle the same sense of extravagance as its king.

  Moments later, the Sefu brothers arrived at their new quarters. It was a small room at the end of a long hallway, a great distance away from the maidens and caretakers, but close enough to the king’s personal quarters that, if summoned, the brothers could be at his side within minutes. This newly created role would be easy for a member of the royal family to understand, but explaining it to the Moors proved to be difficult for Stuart and Singletary.

  “Gentlemen this is your new home,” Stuart said with pride.

  “What about our father? We want to be with him,” Endesha replied.

  “You will no longer be with your father. He shall remain in the stables, but the king requests you remain here,” said Singletary.

  As Amri was looking around at the details of their room, he said, “You will not allow us to see our father, or we can see him freely?”

  “You shall see him when you accompany the king or myself on a mission,” Stuart replied. “You are to serve as His Majesty’s personal guards. When the king leaves the castle, or if he summons you, you are to be at his side to protect him. Endesha, you have another task as well.”

  “What would that be?” Endesha asked angrily.

  “You are to continue being a companion to Harold.”

  “What is a com-pan-yun?” Endesha asked.

  “As before, Harold will be in your care, and you will protect him with your life along with providing for him as needed.”

  “What if we do not want to do the things you are telling us?” Amri asked.

  “Guards!” Stuart yelled, and the eight armored guards promptly entered the Sefu men’s room and lined the walls. Stuart turned to look at Amri and said, “If you refuse to follow the king’s directions then you and your brother shall perish. After your father, of course.”

  “How do we know you have not killed him already?” Amri asked.

  “I assure you, I have not done anything to him, but you are in no position to question me regarding your father,” Stuart replied.

  “You will need more soldiers in this room if you did harm our father… Your Highness,” Endesha replied.

  Both Sefu brothers looked at Stuart, then turned their collective gaze to the eight soldiers in their room. Audible clangs were heard as the armored soldiers shifted their weight uncomfortably. The tension in the room had risen, and the men knew the Sefu brothers were prepared to die if provoked. “I will leave you now. Endesha, you are to join Harold in his quarters in the morning,” said Stuart.

  “Very well, Your Highness,” Endesha replied begrudgingly.

  “Good. Enjoy your new surroundings.” Stuart left with his armored guards and Singletary following behind.

  “Once again, Father was right. This was going to happen to us whether we wanted it to or not,” said Endesha.

  “I hate this place,” Amri said as he looked around the room. He noticed the bed, and the linen on it; he also noticed how much nicer it was compared to the stables.

  Endesha noticed Amri looking around, and said, “These people think this space is supposed to shame us.”

  “They don’t know how nice this is compared to where we have lived before,” Amri said, feeling some happiness from this ordeal.

  The two Sefu brothers shared a brief laugh together before their attention turned back to thoughts of their father. “We will see Father again, right Amri?” Endesha asked.

  “When we leave the castle to be with the king, we may see him in the stables.”

  “True, Brother. We don’t have many options do we?”

  “We have options, they are just limited.”

  “Fight back, and be killed?”

  “Exactly. The other option is to do what they are asking us to do, and survive like Father told us to.”

  “You are starting to sound like Father now, Amri.”

  “His words are heavy on my heart, and I cannot allow my actions to affect your life in a negative way. Like Father said, we are family, and we have to work together to survive this place. I will tell you, Brother, if something happens to Father, and if I have to, I will rid this place of every pale-skinned [DS11]person that stands against me,” Amri said with a stern tone in his voice. “You must be prepared to fight without me at your side.”

  “Now you are really starting to sound like Father. Stop saying such things.”

  “Do you care for the little one, Harold?”

  “I do enjoy spending time with him. Being with him reminds me of our days in the wild with Coffa.”

  “Regardless of how these men feel about us, teach the little one our ways. Maybe he will grow up to see us as men just like him.”

  “Maybe.”

  ***

  Back in the Harkstead Castle stables the sun was returning to the horizon, and Zuberi worried that his sons had not yet returned.

  At first, he believed something was wrong and they were in danger, but something within his spirit told him they were fine. Giving into that feeling brought Zuberi much peace, and so, using his walking stick, he decided to go down to feed the horses. This was something Zuberi had enjoyed doing over the years. Being with the animals reminded him of the Sefu village with its vast wildlife, his beloved Faraha, and his dear brother, Coffa.

  Sometimes, after everyone on
the castle grounds had gone to sleep, or if the stables were empty, Zuberi would slip out back door, drag an old barrel against the stable wall, and sit down. Often, he looked to the sky hoping to see the same stars he had seen when he was a little boy. This evening was different; his heart was weary for the love of his life, and on this night, he found the same star he used to gaze upon with his beloved wife. It was the very same star Coffa had shown him when he was a young boy.

  So much had changed since the first time he had laid eyes on that star, and there was a great absence in the heart of the old Sefu man. Zuberi’s sons were grown men now, and there was nothing on English land that appealed to this old man from Africa.

  Zuberi knew he had to begin preparing for his reunion with Faraha. As he looked to the sky he said softly, “I have to do something for our children before we can be together again my love.”

  The next day, Zuberi started collecting any spare metal he could find and hiding it under piles of old hay and manure. His hands were not as skilled at carving as they used to be, but his talent for working with his hands was enhanced after training with the metalsmith adjacent to the stables. For months Zuberi had been working on a sword for Amri—a sword that was unlike any sword ever made at Harkstead Castle.

  Zuberi intended the sword to be a tangible record of the Sefu family’s journey with intricate carvings and details that chronicled their passage from their village to this new land.

  One evening, the metalsmith returned to finish an item he had been commissioned to create and caught Zuberi attempting to forge his sword in the remaining embers from the nearly extinguished fire.

  Scared of what the consequences of his actions would be, Zuberi stood still, looking at his feet. The metalsmith looked at the unrefined edges of Zuberi’s sword, and was impressed with the Sefu man’s craftsmanship. He took the sword from Zuberi to have a closer look at the blade, and holding it with both of hands, noticed its raw balance, and large length. The size of the weapon gave the metalsmith no doubt that Zuberi was making a blade for Amri.