by David Wind
He looked at his reflection on the gleaming steel body of the vehicle. The hours beneath infrared lights had tanned his olive-toned skin. He was unsure if being paler than anyone else in this new world would be the cause of suspicion. Still, he felt thankful for his mother’s Mediterranean blood, which had given his skin a naturally darker cast.
Swallowing hard, he did not dwell on his situation; rather he accepted where he was and who he was, as he gunned the vehicle forward to claim his new life.
<><><>
On midmorning of the second day of his arrival, Roth reached the Northwestern edge of the desert, and the start of the mountainous wastelands leading into Welkold. The area looked more like the moon than Earth, which was the reason he’d chosen this spot after a year of studying Nevaeh. Because it was the least traveled in the region, it was the perfect place to leave his spare weapons, armor, and enough raw metal to make more if necessary, along with thirty computer-drawn maps of Nevaeh.
He set a small charge against the rocky face of a lumpish hill and detonated it. After storing his equipment, he covered the opening with rocks to make it appear as natural looking as possible.
When he was done, he stood there for several minutes, going over every detail in his mind. His next move would be to drive the vehicle to within a few miles of the border of the nearest dominion, where he would send the vehicle into the depths of a lake. Once done, he would enter the dominion and start his new life.
While he knew it was risky, he could think of no other way. If he failed to be accepted into this new world, then there would be only one option left to him—to finish his days alone and take his knowledge of what once was to his grave.
He shrugged, smiled, and pulled out the single rolled map he’d kept. Although computer-generated, the map looked like it had been hand-drawn. With his forefinger, he traced a path to the dominion known as Kashold, where he would offer his services as a Free-Blade, the term the people of Nevaeh used for mercenaries.
Roth climbed into the vehicle and started in the direction of the lake, which bordered both the dominions of Kashold and Welkold. He took another deep breath of the beautiful and clean air and did not look back as he drove off to his new life.
He did smile though.
<><><>
Four months after landing, Roth was in the foothills between Lokinhold and Brumwall, in the service of the Free-Blade leader, Ekul. He had joined this band shortly after arriving in Welkold and had spent the first several weeks learning the ins and outs of being a Free-Blade. A month after joining, the leader, Danil, had fallen in a skirmish with another band of ‘Blades’ who fought under the banner of Lokinhold.
With his death, a new leader had stepped forward, and as was the tradition, he’d challenged anyone who opposed him as leader. None did, for he was a large mean-tempered fighter, who gave no quarter whether to friend or foe. Roth disliked the man’s bullying ways but stayed silent. As the new man, and as someone who was not born of Nevaeh, he understood it was best to stay silent and solitary.
Just after they made camp on the day before entering Brumwall, Ekul called the men together to go over the next day’s plan for entering Brumwall in order to answer the king’s call for two Free-Blade companies. Halfway through the strategy, Ekul was proposing—a plan of deceit and slaughter, Roth could hold back no longer. “Why?” he cut in.
Ekul turned to him. Dark brown eyes glowered over a bulbous nose and wide mouth. “What did you say, little man?”
Ignoring the slur, Roth repeated his question. “Why?”
“Why? Why what?"
“Why should we go after other Free-Blade companies? What’s the point?”
“To get rid of the competition. The king has called for two companies. There will be many more than that,” Ekul declared. “And we need the coin.”
“So you want to ambush the other companies, kill them off so we will be hired?”
“Exactly. Now you are beginning to learn, little man.”
“Why do we not go to Brumwall and offer our services and tell of this company’s years of service and victories?”
“Because I am a Free-Blade. Talking is not what I do best.”
“I can teach you how to do such, and more,” Roth offered.
“Teach me to talk to a king? Why bother? My sword speaks well enough.”
Roth knew he was battling against the impossible, but that had been his life for the last three thousand years. As Ekul’s words faded, Roth stood. “I can teach you how to talk to kings, and perhaps teach you a few more things as well.”
Ekul’s face drained of blood, and then the blood came pouring back, turning his skin a mottled and angry red.
“So you think you are better than me, little man?” Ekul challenged, a lopsided grin tugging the left corner of his mouth upward.
Behind Roth, several men snickered, knowing how powerful a fighter the Free-Blade leader was.
Ignoring the laughs and the comments, Roth held the leader’s eyes. “I said I could teach you a few things, I did not say I was a better man than you.”
“To me, it is the same thing.”
“Only a foolish man would think so. But if you do not want to gain the knowledge I possess, then I will not offer such again.”
Roth turned around, but before he could take a step, the big man’s hand fell on his shoulder, his fingers digging painfully into the muscle as he turned Roth to face him again. “Do not turn your back on me. I lead my Free-Blades, not you. You either follow, leave, or die.”
Roth’s face showed nothing of the larger man’s grip; instead, he smiled. “Perhaps as our leader, you might show some degree of wisdom. You have seen me fight but a few times. You know me not, nor my abilities with the blade, yet you seek challenge. Why?”
Ekul laughed. “So you understand, eh? I like you not. You talk with strangeness, you are solitary, and you know not how to follow properly. If Danil had not taken you on, if I was leader then, you would not be one of us.”
The man’s words were no surprise for he had sensed Ekul’s dislike from the first. “Truth is good, is it not? Now we know where we both stand. What would you have of me? Leave your Free-Blades?”
“I would prefer your blood on my blade. I like you not,” he repeated, “not the sickly paleness of your skin, or the strange twisting of your words. I would fight you, I would kill you and I would laugh over your body.”
Roth’s every muscle vibrated with the words. His senses turned acute, his skin tingled, and then he smiled. “Strange, is it not? I see a man standing before me who is strong, has great ability, but sees only as far as the tip of his nose. I do not dislike you, Ekul, but I think you are a poor excuse for a leader of a band of Free-Blades such as we are and would be happy to take your place.”
Everyone within hearing distance laughed. Ekul stood taller, his right hand going to the pommel of his sword. He looked at the men semi-circled behind Roth. “Shall I finish this woman-sized man?”
Roth did not turn from Ekul. His concentration locked not on the man’s hand, but on his eyes. He heard the murmurs and laughs behind him and knew the men of this Free-Blade company had no love for Ekul but would not voice their dislike.
Ekul’s smile widened from its lopsided grimace into a tooth-baring picket fence of a smile. “It is settled, little man; it is time for you to die.”
The taller man’s sword leapt from its scabbard. A heartbeat before it did, Roth’s sword was out and their blades met in with a crash. His stroke stopped, the bigger man back-stepped, spun and slashed at the joining of Roth’s neck and shoulders.
Roth easily turned out of the way of the clumsy stroke, took two steps forward and slammed the flat of his blade on Ekul’s wrist. The man screamed and the sword fell from his numbed fingers. Before the sword hit the ground, the tip of Roth’s sword was at the man’s throat, a droplet of blood trailing down Ekul’s neck.
Hatred spewed from his eyes. “Finish this.”
Roth drew his swo
rd back but held it at the ready. “I seek not your death, just your position. “Join me as a Free-Blade, or leave.”
“You shame me by not killing me.”
“No, I value life, even those who would see mine end. I give you a choice, which path you take is up to you.”
“Not yours.”
“Then you are free to go. Do so now.”
Glaring at Roth, he turned to the others. “Will you follow him, or me?”
It took all of forty seconds for thirty-one of the three dozen Free-Blades to step behind Roth. At the site, Ekul spat at Roth’s feet, picked up his swords and began walking back toward Lokinhold, the other four Free-Blades following behind.
Half a dozen paces later, Ekul stopped, turned and said, “I will not forget this shame. One day, you will pay.”
Roth gave the man a short nod. “I look forward to that day.” Turning back to the men, he said, “I thank you for standing with me, even though you know me not well. Each of you is here by choice. I will ask no more than you stand loyal. We will not be fighting other Free-Blades just for a job. We will do so by showing we are strong, smart and able to handle anything asked of us. Does anyone disagree with this?”
When no one spoke, Roth said, “Tomorrow we enter Brumwall, in two days we will be in Apolis. There, I will apply for our company’s employment with King Ecorah. We will present ourselves as a unified company, ready and willing to serve.”
He turned to a man standing in the center of the company. “Steban, how are our supplies?”
“We are well stocked at the moment,” said Steban, the Free-Blade cook.
“Then make us a feast tonight. Tomorrow we move with speed. We do not want to be the last to arrive.”
<><><>
It was late in the afternoon when the thirty-two mercenaries, now known as Roth’s Free-Blades, reached the Keep of Apolis. The guards stepped before them, barring their entry. “What do you here, Free-Blades?”
Roth took a step forward; his hands held open, and said, “We answer the summons of King Ecorah.”
The officer in charge looked Roth up and down. “A Free-Blade, are you?”
Roth leaned in toward the guard, his eyes locked intensely on the officer’s eyes. “I am Roth, these are my men. Is there issue here?”
The man blinked twice, and then shook his head. “There are already two companies waiting for the King in the training grounds. You and your men can set camp there. The King will meet with all leaders tomorrow afternoon.”
“Are there no inns to accommodate us?”
“There are no inns large enough for you and your men.”
“Does Apolis not have more than one inn?”
The guardsman nodded, unsure of how to handle the situation. Free-Blades were notorious for not spending their blood-earned coin. “There are several, all are together on the fourth street from here.”
“My thanks, guardsman,” he said and, with a quick signal to his men, started forward.
The eyes of the people in the street and the vendors at their stands followed the unusual procession of Free-Blades, as they made their way down the road. When Roth turned onto the cobblestone street, he found rows of inns on both sides, all built the same, but each painted a different color.
Roth stopped his men with a raised hand. “Who knows these places?”
Two men stepped forward. The one known as Somid said, “I have used the third inn and the one across before. Both are clean, but Roth, why pay when we can stay in the training grounds?”
“I have my reasons, and your coin will stay with you. You are now my Free-Blades; the burden is mine. If you drink wine tonight, do so lightly. Eyes will be on us. Each of us will be respectful so that word of our conduct reaches the King. Am I understood?”
One of the larger men cleared his throat before saying, “And if we are not?”
“I suggest you turn and leave now. You either follow my instructions or be gone.” Roth fell silent, but his eyes, locked on the bigger man, said much. It took only a few seconds for the man to nod.
An hour later, with their five kralets stabled, their supplies stacked and secured, all were in their rooms. Roth then went to the tavern and waited for his men. It would be a long night, he knew, but the one thing he needed to do was to make sure the Free-Blades followed his orders. He had used his last coin to pay for the rooms, knowing that by doing what no other Free-Blade company would do, would gain him notice. He had formulated a plan on the way here, and he would let nothing interfere with getting the company employment.
<><><>
To a man, the Free-Blade company slept until mid-morning, when Roth wakened them and got them moving. Once fed and dressed, they headed toward the training grounds where the other two Free-Blade companies waited.
Roth stayed behind. He was not the type to sit patiently for something to happen, not with all the years of waiting behind him. Just after midday, an hour before King Ecorah was to review the Free-Blades, he made his way to the main castle keep.
Halfway there he stopped, frozen to the spot. Dressed in a simple long tunic and leather pants, with a simple short sword hung at her side, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She walked with strength and confidence, her head held straight and proud.
He could not take his eyes from the gentle planes of her face, the shimmering waves of raven hair, or from her amazing large gray eyes, which were set within soft mocha skin. He had never before felt what he did at that moment and knew he would never again look at another woman.
In that instant, she turned to look at him. Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly.
Roth crossed the street in five steps and stopped before her. He bowed his head slightly and said, “I do not know you yet… but now that I have seen you, I will never look at another woman.”
The next thing Roth knew, the tip of a knife pressed against his neck. He stiffened but did not move.
“How dare you speak to the Princess Enaid in that manner?” demanded the man, who Roth saw bore a strong resemblance to the woman.
“I know not who she is, nor you. I speak my mind.” With a lightning-quick move, Roth slipped his forearm between himself and the man, spun and pushed the blade away as he completed the spin. Then, grabbing the knife from the man’s hand, Roth caught him around the neck and slammed him to the ground. The knife, now in Roth’s hand, hovered above man’s jugular.
“Your manners are poor, your actions rude,” Roth said. He withdrew the blade and started to rise. That was the last thing he was conscious of as a blast of pain ripped through his head and everything went black.
<><><>
His first awareness was of a man with a deep voice going on about exiling whoever this strange Free-Blade was. Roth stayed silent, his eyes closed while he listened to the conversation.
Carefully opening his eyes enough to see, he found a bear of a man pacing at the foot of the bed he was laying on. The man was huge, his skin ebony, his long straight black hair laced with strands of gray. Standing on each side was the woman he had spoken to and the man who had attacked him.
“Give me one reason I should not exile him!” the large man asked. In that moment, Roth realized the speaker was the king of Brumwall.
“Exiling him will be a mistake,” the woman said.
The king spun to look at her. “And why is that, Daughter?”
She turned to the young man. “I sensed no malice in him, there was no intent to harm. Tell him, Darb.”
The man shuffled uncomfortably for a moment and then nodded. “Father, this man, with my knife at his throat, disarmed me and used my own knife on me in less than a deep-drawn breath. He could have ended my life…he did not. You want to count him as one with Brumwall, not against.”
“Yet he attacked the Prince of Brumwall.”
“No,” Roth said, “I only defended myself, your Highness.”
“Ah, he wakes. Who are you?”
“My name is Roth, Highness. I lead a small comp
any of Free-Blades who have responded to your call.
“You are the one who stays at the inn?”
“I am.”
“You come for employment but insult my daughter?
Roth held back for an instant as he studied the king. The man’s pale blue eyes had a depth to them that showed much intelligence. “My Lord, if it’s an insult that I said that now that I have seen her, I would look at no other woman, then I should be exiled, for I have no place in this dominion. On the other hand, the loss of my fighting knowledge to Brumwall would not be in your best interest.”
“Ah, a braggart are you? Has your audacity no bounds?”
“My Lord,” Roth said respectfully, “It is not audacity, merely truth.”
The king started to speak, but another voice cut in. Unseen and behind him, a woman stepped forward. She walked to the bed and stared into Roth’s eyes for several long seconds. When she was done, she turned to the king. “My Lord, there are reasons to not exile this man.”
“Now my wife takes this…Free-Blade’s part?”
“Your wife takes only your interest to heart. This man speaks the truth, and should you exile him, you exile your daughter as well.”
“What mean you?” Ecorah asked, his puzzled features matching the tone of his words.
“Enaid,” the queen said, turning to her daughter.
“I know him not, as yet, but what I do know, and what I have seen, is that this man and I will share our lives together.”
“He is not of royal blood.”
Enaid smiled at her father. “His blood has no bearing since you have your son Darb, who will marry and leave an heir to follow him. I am not needed for such purpose, so I am free to choose.”
Ecorah looked at his wife and then his daughter. He ran a large hand through his hair. “Am I in the middle of some strange jest?” He pointed a long finger at Enaid. “Nothing in Brumwall happens without my approval. And for that…” He shook his head, his eyes never leaving Roth. “For that, we will see. “Now, Free-Blade, tell me your story.”