Remnant Pages Spearhead

by J.B. Kleynhans

  Cid cursed him silently, his mind flaring back to the moment during round 10 when Stelinger had blindsided him and quite deliberately rapped him on the side of his head. Cid himself had collapsed then, almost losing consciousness. Fortunately the reaction that came from the crowd was enough for him to stay awake. He had lost the round, but regained his feet…

  Making it worse for Cid was that people routinely compared Stelinger to himself. Indeed there were similarities, even Cid had to admit that. They were of same height and build, with Cid having a bit more muscle. To their faces was a likeliness that of brothers, Stelinger sporting even shorter hair and defined by his sharper jaw and nose. Even his eyes were only a bit darker than Cid’s, and it was these eyes that Cid felt were sometimes following him, never giving him a moment’s rest. That though was all in his head he knew.

  Patting his pullover jacket neatly, he felt the familiar square bump that rested inside the pocket. The casing had been there for some weeks now, carrying it over his heart at times, holding all he could hope for. Strangely, his meeting with Bennam would maybe come to determine its fate, and it was distressing enough without realizing this.

  Again Cid caught himself squandering time within his thoughts.

  ‘Best get going,’ he said aloud to himself, tying his tie as fast as he could.

  Chapter 2

  A Night to Remember

  Commander Bennam was 63 years of age. His skin was leathery and his body hard, while his snow white beard and hair were kept short and practical. The man has served with Lanston for 40 years in sum, partaking in three wars before promotion and crushed every border threat since becoming Commander at age 42, thereafter often heralded as a war hero within the Kingdom. Bennam, as by military tradition, was also an avid chess player, and at the moment, he was losing.

  ‘Damn,’ announced the Commander, staring calculatedly into the chess board, where his white pieces were but thin-spread.

  ‘I’d give myself three or four moves before checkmate.’

  ‘Five moves, if you start by moving your rook sir,’ said Cid, affording himself a smile.

  Surrendering the Commander eased back into his chair and chuckled. He took a sip of wine and said, ‘I’ve never seen anyone play like you can, to flatter you I’ve even tried to mimic your style, but I can’t predict and then memorize a dozen moves in advance.’

  ‘Actually sir, planning too many moves distracts one from the opponent’s intentions.’

  Bennam nodded, ‘a variable that is, the opponent’s face, his sleight of hand, and the speed at which he moves a piece… and of course how much wine he has consumed.’

  Cid smirked.

  ‘But, given chess’s rigidity calculation of your measure will win over concealment of intentions because you are mindful of all intentions,’ exclaimed Bennam.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘As you well know chess is nothing but an equation… you have eight by eight of rows and columns, that’s sixty-four blocks, and thirty-two pieces, their movements also a constant - and one way to win, regardless of positioning, the condition for victory remains the same.’

  Cid frowned.

  ‘What I mean to say is, within the parameters of chess the outcome is always the same; a knight will always move in its L formation, never more, never less. The rules are set and do not change.

  ‘It’s not affected by weather, it doesn’t get tired, and it won’t need inspiration.’

  ‘Commander,’ started Cid, ‘you are talking of real battlefield variables, and I can only surmise that you intend to point out that tactics, even the best of them, can fail in the face of adverse circumstances. On such days the battle is won by unhesitant boldness, by theatrics, by Stelinger. That being as it is our conversation will now invariably move on to Stelinger,’ finished Cid soberly.

  The Commander sighed. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that.’

  Bennam paused before saying, ‘tomorrow morning I will assemble the barracks and make my announcement. Then, I will announce Stelinger as the new Commander of the Lanston forces. I will remain available as a General for the Kingdom for a year before my replacement takes over; probably Commander Ramon from Adissa.’

  Cid sat in silence and then nodded. He, and probably all the other soldiers had expected the Commander to name Stelinger above Cid. Bennam, studying Cid’s demeanour, could not help but indulge into explanation.

  ‘Your value in this army is sealed Cid. I chose Stelinger so that you can be at his side as Master Tactician. With your insight and logistical knowledge combined with Stelinger’s fierce approach the Lanston army can reach new heights,’ said Bennam reassuringly.

  ‘You don’t have to explain sir. I had not expected to make Commander.’

  ‘Don’t get pitiful on me now soldier, I want to explain! When I started fighting I was fifteen years old. Who is our enemy Cid? Who is the enemy which we have fought since you’ve enlisted!?’

  ‘The Fallen sir,’ answered Cid.

  ‘And when I started, we too were battling the Fallen! It doesn’t change Cid! The faces of the Fallen might change, but for the greater part of my life I’ve seen the Black Armours encroach our border, never faltering and never caring if they lose men save for the inconvenience of it all! We however, have mourned for brave men on both sides for almost a century thanks to those bastards!’ said Bennam, regaining his breath.

  ‘You Cid, will make an excellent Commander. I do not need to tell you this,’ continued Bennam, stressing his words. ‘The Kingdom has, without a choice, denied us the forces of the other cities which means that as long as this is a border war only Lanston will remain involved. But with Stelinger at the head and with men like you and Brunick at his side there is a slight chance that we can push past our own borders and finish the Fallen threat!’

  He took a deep breath, calming himself.

  More quietly now Bennam said, ‘in twenty-one years of being Commander I have eliminated and stopped the border threats every time. Whenever the Fallen dared to encroach again my lust for battle ignited and we drank ale with every victory. But then they did something that defeated me Cid; they came again and again, for twenty-one years. I came to realize that I wasn’t winning, I was only stalling them from a bigger plan and then sometimes; we were really just killing our own men.

  ‘See, I could choose you because I want to, because it would be right, but I chose Stelinger because of what the Kingdom needs.’

  Cid said nothing, not knowing how to respond to his own conflict of mind, and clearly that of the Commander’s.

  Brightening up the Commander said, ‘I will one day play you at chess again though, and if you continue to sulk like this then I am likely to beat you.’

  ‘Maybe sir,’ said Cid, smiling a bit on his own.

  ‘I will bid you a good night’s rest Cid, but before you leave I would ask you to humour me on one last demonstration,’ said the Commander.

  Not waiting for Cid to respond the Commander cleared the chess table. He took his own white king and placed it roughly in the middle of the board. Next he took a black Castle and placed it upside down at one of the corners of the board.

  ‘This is a hypothetical problem. The black piece is called an “assassin.” To you, it is invisible, and can move only a single pace in any direction. It might also come from any of the corners given your ignorance of its position. When the assassin piece eats the king, you lose. You are allowed six pieces, the simpler the better, what would you do to prevent it? Under normal rules of movement of course.’

  Cid took a moment.

  ‘Surround five of the eight squares of the king’s perimeter with peons and then place a rook to patrol routinely between vacant squares six and eight on every turn. The assassin piece will inevitably have to eat one of the adjacent peons to the king to gain access. When it does, it will reveal its location and allow the king piece to eat it in return.’

  Bennam chuckled. ‘Well, this is a classic problem, an easy one, but I don’t think
anyone solves it as fast as you can. Do you see any way to solve it without losing a single piece?’

  Cid glanced at the board again. ‘No sir, barring luck, sacrifice is the only sure way to protect the king.’

  ‘Indeed it is,’ muttered Bennam, and Cid looked up just in time to see an auspicious glint the Commander’s eyes.

  ‘Well then, have a good night’s rest Cid, it’s been a long day,’ said Bennam suddenly, as he sat back in his chair again.

  Cid stood up. ‘Yes sir, and thank you for your hospitality.’ He was almost at the door when the Commander’s voice called out:

  ‘Cid, what’s the name of that spear of yours?’

  Cid turned, almost impatient at the question. ‘Mindevhier, sir.’

  ‘Ah yes, forged in Morshiph, an heirloom is it not?’

  ‘That’s right sir.’

  ‘Keep it close Cid, even when not warring; a weapon’s presence can be as inspiring as the man who carries it,’ said the Commander lastly.

  ‘Yes sir, good night sir,’ said Cid, leaving the chamber finally.

  Solemnly Bennam sat back deep into his armchair and stared hard at the white king piece on the board. Sipping at his wine and listening to the crackle of the fire Bennam could not help but drift in and out of sleep.

  ‘Good evening Commander,’ came a voice.

  Bennam immediately woke from his stupor and turned in his chair to see Piatil, his personal servant. Piatil was considered a small man, especially in the likes of a war camp. His shaven head, dull clothing and small eyes made him seem rodent and insignificant.

  But then Bennam pitied the man who dared underestimate Piatil. Trained as a spy in martial arts, battle tactics, politics and who knew what else made Piatil much more valuable than anyone realized. The Commander watched Piatil, the man already busy in the corner with Bennam’s cup of tea before bed.

  Dangerous above all because no one even affords him a second glance; ever and only the sandal-bearer, thought the Commander. Bennam often used Piatil as an unofficial advisor, and asked him, ‘am I doing the right thing Piatil? Giving Stelinger the Commander’s post?’

  Piatil turned, the cup and saucer in his hands. ‘It is a difficult debate sir, but I’d say that you would not have chosen Stelinger if he wasn’t the right man.’

  Bennam nodded and took the tea from Piatil.

  ‘Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you warn Colonel Cid beforehand?’ asked Piatil.

  ‘Cid is… as tough as they come, but the man is sensitive in his way and even more so now with that trouble he has with the girl. He needed to be prepared, and more importantly, be made felt needed in this army. He is needed Piatil, my whole idea of promoting Stelinger is centred around Cid’s abilities,’ said Bennam earnestly.

  ‘I understand, you did the right thing,’ acknowledged Piatil, ‘are you then convinced that Cid is not ready yet?’

  ‘That’s an interesting thought,’ said Bennam bemused, ‘I guess I still see both of them as pupils, and that they can still learn from me. But my retirement is timely, for they would only blossom if left at the lead on their own.’

  Bennam sipped at his tea. ‘Thank you Piatil, a fine brew as always, I’ll grant you leave for now.’

  ‘Rest peacefully Commander,’ said Piatil, bowing and backing away.

  When Piatil was out of the room Bennam sighed. He usually implored Piatil to eavesdrop on his conversations, so finding him roaming about after a private meeting was not strange. What bothered the Commander was how Piatil could enter a room without anyone ever knowing, and this even when Bennam was consciously looking for signs of the man. Slowly drinking his tea Bennam’s gaze fell on the white king piece again, and whispered by himself:

  ‘One day, when Mindevhier reaches the capital gate, I will have my victory.’

  The land was dark and the ride unpleasant, the night chill making Elmira’s eyes teary. Riding double on horseback with a gown was not what Elmira had imagined, and doing so side-saddled hanging onto an armoured man made any attempt to keep up with the rhythm of the horse useless.

  At least we only keep a mild pace...

  ‘We’re almost there,’ said Alex, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

  ‘Are you sure Cid doesn’t suspect anything?’ asked Elmira.

  ‘I’m sure, even Brunick wouldn’t drop the ball on this one,’ said Alex.

  Elmira laughed a bit and followed up, ‘don’t you think you and Cid discredit Brunick a little too much?’

  ‘Yeah, we do tease him a lot, but the fact is that the man’s almost physically unstoppable. I’m guessing even Stelinger envies him, and that’s why everyone badgers him a bit whenever they get the chance.’

  ‘I see… I’m glad Cid has the two of you to keep him preoccupied, he gets lost in his own mind when left alone.’

  ‘He does that, the man is brilliant though, he’s miracle worker on the battlefield.’

  Elmira didn’t respond as the horse hit a rough patch of terrain.

  ‘Count to sixty Elm, we’re nearly there.’

  ‘Why do you always say that?’ asked Elmira.

  ‘Sixty? It's the number of arrows our quivers carry. Cid taught me; take care of the numbers and they will take care of you. Be mindful he always says.’

  ‘Yeah, that sounds like Cid!’ said Elmira, her spirits lifting as the outline of a building came into sight.

  Brunick, as patiently as he could, waited a few dozen paces outside of the Commander’s chamber. Obviously he was just as anxious to discover what the Commander would relay to Cid, but he did in fact have another mission and it required him to intercept Cid the moment he showed face.

  Brunick enjoyed the quiet of the night and the soft glow of the streetlamps. In earnest, the barracks resembled a small town as the different halls and chambers were all built in tidy squares and sections separated by crude stone roads. The restored lamps and boulevards were telltale signs of the town that it once was before remodelled as a barracks. Resting his back against the wall Brunick could not help but jump as a harsh voice directed at him.

  ‘At attention!’

  In dismay Brunick stifled a salute as he saw Stelinger approach him, the streetlight revealing an excitable glint in his eyes.

  ‘Not even a hello on your part, eh old Brunick?’ said Stelinger.

  ‘How are you Stelinger?’ asked Brunick, his flat tone betraying any real suggestion of politeness.

  ‘I’m doing all right, even through captain chess’ best efforts.’

  ‘From the looks of things Cid saw to it that you are in pain, which is why I’d say you’re snooping around here,’ retorted Brunick in irritation, ‘what do you want?’

  Stelinger closed in on Brunick, his tone growing soft. ‘Easy there Brunick, last I heard you were only a Lieutenant, and not a very good one I’d daresay. And let’s not forget that you can’t even obey the simplest rules of engagement, which is why they send you running around like a dog. At least Cid can fight a fair fight.’

  Brunick felt himself tremble with anger and stood up straight from the wall, folding his arms and looking Stelinger dead in the eye.

  ‘Cid has his reservations,’ started Brunick slowly and intently, his voice growing into a growl, ‘but as you pointed out I haven’t climbed the ladder all that much and might decide the reward worth the risk, tear you to pieces, get discharged, and see to it that Cid gets the position he deserves while you rot six feet beneath the ground!’

  Stelinger smiled impenitently and tapped the sword at his waist.

  ‘Think on it Stel, think carefully if you'd risk opening yourself for what I might have planned for you!’

  Stelinger’s smile faded casually and said, ‘one way or the other Brunick you’re inferior to me, and it’d be a waste of breath to draw sword just to prove it. When Cid leaves the army, like I know he will, I’ll make sure that any of his friends who linger become permanent frontliners at the border.’

  Stelinger turned on his heel
and strolled away, whistling a merry tune.

  Brunick’s stomach turned; he had never met anyone who could so easily detach himself from his own menace and realized that it was this very aspect that made Stelinger the danger that he was. Mercifully alone again Brunick tried to relax, but found it hard this time around. Specifically, Brunick could not shake Stelinger’s words that Cid would leave the army. Brunick wanted to dismiss the thought, but knew Stelinger’s sentiment carried weight.

  Given what’s going on, there is a possibility that he might be right.

  Cid left Commander Bennam’s chamber in a bit of a daze. The room had been stuffy and the mix of bad news and wine didn’t help. Walking in the night air he came to realize that he had expected Stelinger to get the position, but a small hope that the Commander might choose more wisely had ruined his preparation for disappointment. Cid sighed. All he really wanted to do now was return home.

  Up ahead Cid saw a familiar figure approaching him, immediately recognizing Brunick’s outline in the dark.

  ‘Commander?’ stated Brunick formally.

  Cid offered a smile. ‘No, guess I’m going to be called Colonel a while longer. Not that you’ve ever bothered calling me on rank.’

  Brunick fell into step alongside Cid.

  ‘Curses, we were hopeful at least. Anyway, me and Alex ended up clearing the guard tower so that we could celebrate your promotion on the tower top with a tankard of ale I nabbed from the kitchen. I’ve still got Alex on standby, so I’m thinking maybe we should go get that drink after all?’ suggested Brunick.

  ‘Alex’s back?’ asked Cid.

  ‘Yeah, he returned shortly after you went to clean up. When he heard about your meeting with the Commander he reasoned we break out on the tower,’ said Brunick.

  ‘Sounds great, what about curfew?’ asked Cid.

  ‘Dumb question; you don’t have curfew and me and Alex don’t much care.’

  ‘You mean you don’t care and Alex didn’t mind getting bullied into it.’

  ‘Come on, lighten up a bit,’ said Brunick with a smile.

  ‘Alright then, let’s celebrate me retaining my position of Colonel,’ said Cid with as much cheer as he could muster.