by Adam Bishop
All of a sudden, he felt a clap of weight briefly on his left shoulder. When he turned to see what it was, no one was there. At first, he was puzzled. He was sure he’d felt something. But no man could be tall enough to reach such a height, he thought. Then he realized what it was. A large, warm glob of bird shit was resting on his shoulder in a marbled gray and white mess. The fecal smell stung his nostrils.
“Fucking creatures,” he muttered to himself, sneering at the sight. He tore off a piece of his undershirt and wiped the shite off his shoulder.
“You can tether your horse here,” one of the Feathered Knight’s said. “On we go. This way to the throne room.”
Darith dismounted his horse and tied him to one of the wooden posts buried into the ground. He peeked up at the staggering castle, and a number of golden-ringed eagle eyes stared back at him. He loathed the idea of being in such a place and felt as if the birds were mocking him with every glance. He couldn’t decide what he hated more—the fancy armoured soldiers or the white-headed eagles measuring his every step. He was eager to leave, but unfortunately, his business was still unfinished. He had yet to meet with King Richard, and pass on the word of his King.
Darith followed close behind two Feathered Knights leading him to the throne room. He had heard many stories regarding the King of Eagles, though he couldn’t care less about putting credence to the tales. If it were up to him, he would charge into the throne room with his sword drawn and lay waste to all those who betrayed his King. But today he was merely a messenger. His loyalty overruled his desire to spill blood.
The Feathered Knights entered the spacious throne room and announced his arrival.
“Sir Darith of Havelmir, Your Grace. He has come with word of King Dadro. May his message be of use…” the soldier said with oozing disbelief.
King Richard simply nodded, awaiting the message from his neighbouring enemy. He sat on his throne accompanied by his pet eagle, Kodi. Kodi was even bigger than the eagles Darith had witnessed earlier. He must have stood six feet tall with a wingspan over twenty-five feet. This was definitely a fearsome predator, even to Darith.
Another thing Darith found surprising was the outfit King Richard donned. He wasn’t dressed in expensive silk fit for a King. Nor did he bear a crown. He wore a plain linen shirt, laced at the neck, with a pair of scuffed leather boots aged and faded from the sun. The only piece of jewelry he wore was a leather-stringed necklace with a large fish scale strung through it. Richard hated the idea of spending his gold on pleasantries. He refused to garnish his Kingdom with expensive decorations or eat and drink from fancy silverware. Those things were crafted for those who naively saw themselves as a higher breed. He chose to spend his riches in favour of his people instead. He had always seen himself as an equal among everyone in Talfryn, and he loathed those who treated anyone differently. There were no lower, middle, or higher classes in Talfryn. They were a community as a whole, equal in every way. He shared this view along with the Elves, which resulted in his many enemies over the years.
Darith approached the King of Eagles, absent of any bow or any sign of respect. He removed a crinkled scroll from his belt. He held it out to King Richard and quickly grew impatient, as his enemy lingered rather than immediately accepting the scroll. During the uncomfortable handoff, Darith shot forth an intimidating stare—but he found himself looking into the eyes of a man who held no fear. This look alone changed his opinion of the Eagle King. Darith had stared into the eyes of many men during battle, both weak and strong. None of them held the bold, lionhearted gaze that King Richard did. Are all the stories about this man true after all? he wondered.
Richard read the inked words of King Dadro and smirked. “Terms ... this is what you bring me? Has your King suffered a blow to the head? Has he mistaken one victory over the Elves as his right to rule over all of Cellagor? So the Kelts and the Forguard have given their allegiance to him … oh no, not them,” he said sarcastically. “Those cowardly houses would bend the knee to a pisshead if he promised them some copper. If Dadro thinks this will intimidate me, then he’s a fool. If my family wouldn't fight alongside the Braxi ninety years ago, then what makes you think anything has changed!?” Richard threw the parchment at Darith’s feet. “All you’ve done is waste my time. I could be fishing right now, which would demand far more skill than defeating the Braxi in battle! Tell your King his victory has only muddled his mind, and that I’d be surprised if he made it through the winter alive.”
Darith stood in place. Rage shot through his spine. He had never wanted to kill a man more than right now. If it wasn’t for the orders of his King, his Greatsword would come unsheathed long ago. Instead, he swallowed his unbearable hate and left the throne room with thoughts of burning Talfryn to the ground.
***
Iris Arinfray sat in the Moorgardens awaiting her husband. Her long chestnut-brown hair blew in the wind, revealing shapely cheekbones that caught the light of the afternoon sun. She was quite aware of Darith’s short visit, and she was anxious to hear the meaning behind his arrival.
Iris was born in the lush riverlands of Moorwood, where she grew up surrounded by endless meadows of colourful flowers. The warm climate of her southern homeland allowed such greenery to thrive. There were no empty shadows cast down from frigid mountains, like the ones that surrounded Talfryn. Her childhood home was warm and welcoming, full of life and laughter. The only shadows she remembered were cast by children playing in the thick grassy fields just outside her town. She didn’t dislike Talfryn— it was just that sometimes its mountainous landscape brought on an unfamiliar feeling of solitude, leaving her feeling homesick. Nevertheless, Richard had taken notice of this and helped construct a large flourishing garden in her honour. It allowed her to feel more at home among the windswept rocky terrain.
As she rose to her feet, Iris noticed her husband’s speckled black hair bobbing behind the tall summersweet hedge she’d been sitting in front of.
“What news did the oaf bring?” she asked, fearing the worst.
Few outsiders had traveled to their Kingdom since The Battle of Hollows. There was a time when Talfryn was rich with travelers and merchants from near and far. People used to come from all over to see the giant eagles. However, that all changed when Richard’s great-grandfather refused to join the Braxi during Roald Braxis’ first attempt at war against the Elves ninety-six years ago.
“Nothing to fear, my love. Just a fool’s errand,” Richard replied. “Dadro thinks his victory over the Elves has made him King of the north. He’s but only gained allegiance from the Kelts and the Forguard. Stoneburg has yet to join him. I doubt Gregor would ever submit to such a tyrant.”
“And what if he does?” Iris challenged. “Our relationship with Stoneburg has faded these last few years. You can’t let Dadro raise an army we're unable to defeat.”
“The Braxi will never step foot in our Kingdom. You’ll never have to worry about such things. I’m sending Derwin to Stoneburg on the morrow. Gregor has been loyal to our family for many years. He won’t betray us for a man like Dadro.”
Iris wanted to believe her husband’s words, but the fact that neither of them had heard from Gregor the past few months worried her a great deal. Their friendship seemed to be slowly fading, and now she questioned his loyalty. She knew Gregor was an honourable man, but her intuition challenged his certainty as their ally. Despite her skepticism, she chose to let her husband think she was in good spirits.
“I’m sure you’re right, my love. He has always been a good friend to our family,” Iris stood up and brushed her fingers through Richard’s thick black hair. “If you believe Gregor is an honourable man, so do I. Derwin is your closest friend. If you didn’t trust Gregor, I’m sure you wouldn’t ask him to go in your stead.”
Richard nodded and kissed his wife on the forehead.
“Krea is waiting for you in her room,” Iris said. “She wants to go fishing with you and Kodi tonight.”
A wide smile stre
tched across King Richard's face. He had two children—a son and a daughter—although sometimes he felt like he had two sons. “She’s no lady, that one,” he said with a playful grin. “Soon she'll be a better fisher than her brother.”
Iris laughed a little “She's young yet. She’ll strive to be like her older brother for the next little while. Don’t keep her. Go find her before she grows tired of waiting!”
Richard pulled his wife close and slid his rough hands along the curves of her waist. His calloused fingers pulled at the finely stitched embroideries along her dress. “I better not keep her waiting then. She’s impatient, just like her father. I too will be waiting for something when I return tonight,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Don’t keep me waiting either.”
Iris shook her head with a look of both humour and distaste. “Go!” she said, raising her voice.
***
Krea sat in her room practicing the snell knot her father had taught her. She meant to surprise him with how prolific she had become at tying one. Her fingertips were pricked and rough on account of the barbed fishing hooks she’d used for practice. Her room was also dimly lit, which made it hard to see the razor-thin line as she strung it through the eye of the hook.
Her dirty blond hair was always scruffy and tangled. She hated combing it and never really saw the point. "It’s gonna get all messed up anyway," she would say. She was wearing her father’s fishing vest along with a pair of her brother’s old breeches. Despite her mother’s constant effort, she preferred wearing boy’s clothes rather than those pretty dresses collecting dust in the corner of her room.
Another habit distancing her from the stigma of being a young princess was her passion for playing with animals in and around the Kingdom. She spent ample time feeding them, naming them, sometimes even tending to their wounds. Her clothes were often filthy, torn, and stained with dry blood upon her arrival home. Krea always had a very special connection with animals—not just your typical ones found inside the castle walls. Her brother often found her sneaking out of the Kingdom to play with deer, rabbits, and even foxes. He always covered for her, making up stories that were usually questionable, but just good enough to get her off the hook.
“What have you got there?” Richard asked from the doorway of her room.
Krea spun around, excited to show her father that her practice had paid off. She sprung up and brought him the hook with the best snell knot.
“This looks very good … tight, neat, strong. I wouldn’t change a thing. You’ve been practicing, eh?” Richard said, pulling on the end of the line to test its strength.
Krea smiled. She was happy to hear her father’s approval. “Yes. I’ve been practicing all afternoon. Can we go down to Talon Lake after dinner?”
Before Richard could answer, a small rabbit hopped out from under her bed. “Krea, what has your mother told you? You’re not to bring animals into the castle.”
“But father, he was all alone. I didn’t want one of the eagles to eat him,” she whined. She was always sneaking new animals into the castle. Once her mother had found two cats hidden in her room. Another time a box of ducklings, and even once a group of baby foxes. She always gave herself away, sneaking absurd amounts of food out of the kitchen to feed her hidden friends.
“Keep him hidden and we'll bring him back to the woods after dinner. If your mother finds out, I knew nothing of it. Understood?” Richard said with a playful grin.
Krea smiled back and nodded. “I’ll keep him out of sight. I promise.” She picked up the small grey rabbit and put him in her closet. “Who was that giant man that came to our castle today?”
“Just an old friend from the southwest,” Richard replied with a telling tone. He was never a good liar. Not that he wanted to be—he just didn’t want to burden his daughter with matters of war.
“Rowan said his name was Darith the Bastard, and that he’s one of the most feared men in the realm.”
“Your brother shouldn’t be telling you things he knows nothing about. You're only ten. And I don’t want to hear you using that language again, understand?”
“Yes, father,” she replied.
“Where is your brother, anyhow? I haven’t seen him all day,”
“He’s in the training yard, sparring with Edwin. When can I train to fight? Rowan got a sword when he was only seven!” Krea was always jealous of her brother for getting to train with the Feathered Knights. She often snuck into the training yard after dark and pretended to be a knight herself, even though most of the swords were too heavy for her to wield.
“The training yard is no place for little girls,” Richard explained bluntly. The look of disappointment on his daughter’s face prodded at his kind heart. “But if you’d like, I’ll ask Elis the Arrow to teach you how to use a bow.”
Krea’s face lit up. “Really? Thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll be safe and—”
Richard cut her off. “You must listen to every word he says, and no using the bow outside the training grounds. Elis is the best archer I’ve ever seen. A fortnight with him and you’ll never need a sword to keep yourself safe.”
“Yes, yes I promise! Listen to Elis and no shooting inside the castle.”
“Alright—get washed up for dinner and keep that rabbit out of sight ... or he’ll be in tomorrow’s stew!” Richard shouted as Krea ran off in excitement.
“I will!” her voice answered faintly.
***
Richard Arinfray made his way to Talon Lake after returning his daughter’s rabbit to the forest. He could tell she was upset about not being able to come along, but his promise to let her train with Elis the Arrow misdirected her disappointment a great deal. He also told her that if she wished to start her training the next day she would have to get her rest.
As he drew closer to the lake, he spotted Durwin, who—like always—was right on time. Durwin was Richard’s oldest friend. They had grown up together on the high hill. Much like Richard, Durwin was a humble, well-respected man. He may not have been high-born like Richard, but thanks to their friendship he had managed to climb the ranks to the title of Earl—quite an impressive feat for a man who came from nothing. His title wasn’t handed to him, despite what many were led to believe. He had fought alongside Richard in The Battle of Hollows, whereupon they had defended their home against the invading Braxi forces. Not only was this battle regarded as one of the most gruesome in recent history, but it was also one of the most monumental. Durwin’s suggestion to hide one quarter of Talfryn’s eagles above the ceiling of clouds had resulted in victory over the Braxi. This clever flank was the deciding factor of battle, and it also gave name to the battle itself. Both the fleeing and fighting Braxi soldiers were overwhelmed by a tornado of winged beasts, and soon flesh and bone of Braxi bodies were left littered across the battlefield in a grotesque display of victory. All of the Braxi soldiers who managed to push through this chaos found themselves blinded by the constant streams of blood running into their eyes, stunting them as their torn skin flapped back and forth like that of the dreaded hollow men.
“You're late,” Richard quipped.
“Like always,” Durwin replied, adding to the joke.
They both shared a laugh before stepping onto Richards’s boat. They rowed to the centre of the lake and tossed the small stone anchor over the side of the boat.
“I have a feeling we’re not just out here to fish,” Durwin said.
Richards’s response began with a grin. “If you had thought any different, I’d have revoked your title as Earl.” His sarcasm brought on a brief chuckle. “Fish we will. But yes, other matters must be discussed. I’m sure by now you’re aware of the visitor we had today?”
Durwin nodded. “Aye. I heard he was a beast of a man. It was The Bastard, correct?”
“The one and only. This is what the big oaf brought me,” he said, extending the crinkled scroll out to his friend.
Durwin read the inked words, trying his best not to laugh. “I wish I cou
ld have been there to see your reaction. So, what did you tell him?”
Richard uttered a low snicker before answering. “I told him his King would likely die before winter’s end. It took everything I had not to kill him where he stood. That ugly bastard is lucky I didn’t feed him to the eagles.”
Durwin laughed, picturing the look that Richard's reply must have painted on Darith’s face. “Dadro must be mad to think you would join him. Do you think there was any further meaning behind this idle visit?”
“Exactly what I’ve been wondering. Dadro is a devious man, there’s no doubting that. I fear he sent The Bastard to determine the size of our army.”
“And what of the Kelts and the Forguard? Is it true they’ve joined sides with Dadro?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Nether fort is big enough to house a proper army, and both families have always flocked to whichever King is willing to promise them power.”
“Right. I forgot how easily swayed the Kelts could be. Although, to be honest, I never took the Forguard as a treacherous family.”
“Greed can corrupt one’s mind much like the quench can crack a blade’s spine,” Richard said. “It takes a few short seconds, but the outcome is often irreversible.”
“Well said, my friend. I’ve never heard that one before.”
“Those are my father’s words,” Richard admitted. “Now, I need to ask a favour of you, my friend.”
“Anything for my King,” Durwin responded honourably.
Richard hated when his friends referred to him as “their King,” but he understood it was out of respect. “I need you to ride to Stoneburg on the morrow. Gregor has sworn his allegiance to my family. I must know if he means to keep this oath. I haven’t heard from him in some time, but I doubt his honour has been broken. However, if it has, the Braxi will outnumber our army three to one. Such a betrayal would be detrimental to the safety of our Kingdom. I would go myself, but considering the current state of events, I feel it best that I send someone I can trust rather than leave our Kingdom unattended.”