“Not quite as stealthy as you thought, my big friend?”
Bull smiled at his insult, he picked up the rabbit and slung it onto his belt ready to cook later. Many hours later, a good time before dusk, they settled to set their fire. It was not long before they had the rabbit skinned and over the fire.
“In all our training Hammer never had us fight each other, why?” asked Bull.
“My teacher always used to tell me that to learn you must fight those who are better than yourself.”
“He considered us equals?”
“Perhaps,” replied Markus.
“Me and you, who would win?”
“We are far more similar now than we were when we met, but you are still stronger, and I am still faster.”
“What wins in a fight, strength or speed?”
“I suppose you could say that would be down to what weapons we used.”
“Why?”
“Well in a fist fight, I wouldn’t like to face off against you, but with a sword, your strength would not be as useful.”
“So I win with fists, you win with swords, Markus?”
“Perhaps.”
“And with staffs?”
“Even, I guess.”
“Let us put this to the test, staff is the fair way to do it,” said Bull.
“You want to fight? Right now?”
“Why not?”
“We are learning to fight our enemies.”
“If you cannot face a friend to test your abilities, how can you face the enemy?”
Markus thought for a minute. He frequently practised with the men of his Wolf Pack, so the idea should not at all be strange to him. Despite this, he was having difficulties in comprehending the idea of a friendly fight with a Karsian. He had accepted the man as a friend, but this was something else. He thought for a minute, before realising that if he truly was a friend, he should not even be questioning the idea.
“Okay, best of five hits?”
Bull grinned as he picked up his staff and stood up. The fire continued to roar as their dinner cooked and they readied themselves for a fight. The light was going down quickly, especially in the thick wood. It was only a small opening that they had stopped in, large enough for two men to fight, but no more.
The two friends circled each other among the trees, still wearing their furs. The light of the fire created long shadows, hiding many of their fine manoeuvres from the opponent. At first, neither attacked as they carefully considered their options. Both knew the other was a highly skilled fighter, and despite never having fought, they had seen each other fight against their trainer.
Finally, Bull thrust a quick lunge forward, Markus narrowly voided to the side and smacked him considerably across the nose. Bull grinned at the strike, impressed with his friend’s turn of speed. They circled further, until Bull thrust again, but as a feint. Markus leapt to avoid it, expecting a full attack, but Bull quickly re-directed to his intended strike, cutting Markus’ lead leg out from under him. He smashed to the hard ground.
“One all,” said Bull.
Markus got back on his feet, suddenly feeling the competitive urge that had not kicked in from the beginning. He stood, waiting for Bull’s attack, until the man became impatient enough to enter into distance. He cut down for Markus’ head, but Markus parried the strike, pivoted from the bind and thrust the staff into Bull’s chest, knocking the wind out of him.
Bull stood back up straight, gasping to get the air back into his lungs. Markus was feeling confident from his display of skill and he entered with a low cut, but feinted and re-directed the cut to Bull’s head from above. He saw the feint and parried above to his head, drove his foot into Markus’ torso sending him tumbling back.
Getting back to his feet, Markus grinned knowing they were even, an admirable sparring bout, but one final hit would find a winner. They circled each other for several more moments, choosing their tactics very carefully. Despite having become good friends, they were still as competitive as ever, just as Markus had been with his brother. It was in this moment that he realised what Bull had become to him, like family.
The men froze as the sound of heavy grunting resounded in the darkness beside them. They looked for the source of the sound, completely unaware that anything or anyone else was in their company. The snort rang out again followed by the roar of a bear, deeper than any animal sound they had ever heard.
They slowly stepped back towards the fire and away from the sound as the huge beast stomped into the light. It resembled a bear, but stood ten feet tall and with partially scaled skin, far larger than any either man had ever seen or heard of. They looked at each other, in part of surprise, but more fear. For a second they were speechless as the bear looked at them, and they were utterly unsure of what to do.
“Got any ideas?” asked Markus.
“Is he after us or the rabbit?”
“Don’t care, he isn’t getting either.”
“Then you just answered the question, Markus?”
“Oh really?”
“What did Hammer teach us about the staff?”
“That it can handle any situation in skilled hands, Bull.”
“Exactly!”
The creature growled, its ears back, it stared at the men, huge teeth protruding from its jaws as saliva dripped onto the cool snow. Markus lowered his staff point to hold the huge animal at a distance, Bull quickly following suit. Markus thrust his staff forward at the creature’s face, but it brushed it off with its snout. Without warning the huge creature leapt at Markus at an immense speed, he narrowly dodged it, the paws missing him by a hair’s length.
“Jesus, he’s fast,” Markus screamed.
Bull swung a mighty horizontal strike with his thick staff, smashing the jaw of the giant monster. Its head jolted to one side, but its body didn’t move. The mighty creature shook off the strike to its head and growled again.
“That could have gone better,” said Bull.
“This isn’t a fight to the death, we just need to make him realise we are more trouble than it’s worth,” Markus whispered.
“How?”
“Just keep hitting the bastard!”
Markus jumped forward smashing his staff down on the creature’s skull, before it could recover Bull followed up with a heavy blow to its torso. The monster’s body hunched and staggered slightly, it moved forward trying to snap at Bull, but he struck its jaw with the opposing end of the staff. It backed off a few feet, the two men closing in on it. Markus waved the tip of the shaft at the creature, threatening it further.
“Go on!” shouted Markus.
The beast let out a large growl, before turning its tail and slowly shambling away. The two men sighed in relief.
“If only you could saddle a beast like that and ride him to battle,” said Bull.
Markus chuckled, but he also agreed. He had never even seen a bear. They didn’t live in the vicinity of his hometown, let alone anything as astonishing as that.
“The staff may be capable in the right hands, but what I wouldn’t give for a real weapon,” said Markus.
“My thoughts exactly.”
The men went back to their fire and sat down, laying their staffs next to them and finally relaxing. They were still breathing heavily from the fight.
“We didn’t finish our fight,” said Bull.
“Call it a draw?”
“Agreed, now let’s eat.”
They eagerly dug into their meal, the only one of the day, no wonder they guarded it so vigorously.
“What Gods do you pray to, Bull?”
“None, I believe in my own hand, nobody decides my destiny for me.”
“I did,” said Markus.
“True, but no God swayed your hand. So, who do you pray to?”
“We have many Gods.”
“Why?”
“We need as much help as we can get,” explained Markus.
“But do you pray to them?”
“No, not in a lon
g time, the Gods did not save my father, they did not save the western lands Werstria, the villagers of Raubuck or my brother. The Gods are either dead or they do not care for the actions of men.”
“Then you believe as I, that we create our own destiny, our own luck?” asked Bull.
“Yes, just as I saved your life, so did you mine, we live today because of the actions of men.”
The two sat pondering the situation. Markus had never discussed the Gods before amongst his Wolf Pack, it would have been a sin to do so, but now he had no care for them.
“And of women, do you have one?” asked Markus.
“No, I have been a soldier as long as I remember, I have no time for them, and you?”
“There was one girl, perhaps I shall return to her one day, but my duty to Werstria as a soldier has long taken me from that life.”
“It is never too late to go back, forget all of this war and return home,” said Bull.
“We both know that Werstria is on the brink of destruction. I could go home to a peaceful land tomorrow, but that life would not survive the year. Honestly tell me that it is not the truth?”
“I cannot. Karsia has long forgotten why they hate Werstria so much, but they will not stop until Werstria is utterly vanquished with its armies crushed, its women and children enslaved and its cities conquered. The King of Karsia and his son Prince Ozturk are cruel and barbaric. They know no other way.”
“Then we have only one choice, and that is to fight.”
Markus thought long and hard about what Hammer had told them about the very beginnings of the war. It struck him as odd that after escaping slavery themselves, the people of the west wanted nothing more than to make Werstrians suffer as they had, even though the current generations had nothing to do with that previous age. He could now see that they had to do more than just win battles. To beat the Karsians, they must either utterly destroy them or make them understand the reason for peace.
“Would the Karsians ever want peace?”
“Only as the victors of the war.”
“And then what would they do, Bull? Generations bred through hate and war, they would just stop? People like that can never stop, they will go on to create the biggest empire they can, becoming what they hated.”
“Likely, yes.”
“Then what are we fighting for?”
“Because we have no choice, to survive.”
“There must be something more, there must be an end to it all,” said Markus.
“You are asking the wrong man, I am a soldier, not a politician.”
Markus laughed, he indeed was getting into a complex philosophical argument, when survival was the matter at hand, and he had only a single friend left in the world.
“Okay, enough of that, what is your favourite weapon?” Markus asked him.
“I like big swords.”
“How big?”
“As tall as a man, something to strike fear into men, and you?”
“Mace, beautifully simply, easy to wield.”
“Really? I thought you would prefer a quick sword.”
“It was the primary weapon I was taught with yes, but when you come up against armour, a mace is a fine weapon.”
“Mmm, agreed.”
“You are the last man I would ever have expected to call friend, funny how events can unfold.”
“I can only hope I live longer than your others,” replied Bull.
They finished off their meal and lay down to rest. Despite the cold and harsh weather of the mountains, the tranquil night was a peaceful place to sleep beside the fire. It took Markus a long time to get to sleep that night. He had spent a long time in training, preparing for his return to the war, but now there was a constant building of anticipation and expectation. He still did not truly know how he would conduct the coming weeks and months, but time would give him direction.
Chapter 5
They continued on their journey the next day, a long journey through the tall peaks. Later they finally decided to stop for the night. There was no shelter near them, nothing but the thick forest as the night before, but their months of conditioning had taken the edge off the cold extremes. They gathered up as much firewood as they needed to last the night and eventually lay down to rest their weary legs, resting against the base of a huge tree, their fire roaring before them.
“Markus, what will we do after we have found this tower?”
“We will do what Hammer suggested, find some recruits. Leonzal is a market town to the south, we will likely find men to take up arms with us there.”
“And they will follow you?”
“I do not know anyone in the town, but we can be persuasive I’m sure.”
Markus knew that he only had a matter of days, or weeks at best, before the war would continue as the winter subsided. With the speed at which the Karsians had swept across the Ensee and enveloped Lienzberg, he knew that the King would be organising everything he could muster to take back the city. Werstria could not survive with the Karsian hordes having a foothold in the east.
Eventually the men fell asleep in the bitter temperatures of the mountain forest, awaking to a chilling and crisp morning. They had nothing left to their names, no horses, no armour, no real weapons, the only way was up for these two comrades, and they were eager to take what they could rightly win.
For half a day the two fur-clothed men trundled through the dense forests, ever further south, seeking the elusive tower that they were in search of. In the distance, they could see a beautiful dapple-grey horse trotting through the glade, confident and secure, clearly on its home turf. It appeared to live freely, but somehow looked perfectly kept.
“We’ll hit the tower first, but when we’re done, that grey is mine,” said Markus.
“No argument there, any horse that can carry me will do.”
“We must be close now.”
“Any idea what we are facing?”
“No, this place is as foreign to me as it is you,” replied Markus.
“Good to know.”
They continued onwards, but slowly and cautiously, knowing they must be closing in on the tower. They were walking up a slight incline, the crest of the wooded peak nearby. Their pace got ever slower until they crept up to the edge to look beyond.
In the dip below, they could see several tall and agile people walking about. They could just make out small parts of brickwork hidden behind thick trees and scrub. Two men stood attending a fire cooking a hog. They were dressed in roughly tailored furs and had long beards. They were simple folk, but carried themselves with some sophistication.
“How shall we play this, Bull?”
“Walk up and ask, no reason to sneak up on someone who is not an enemy.”
“And say what? We want to take everything we desire from the tower?”
“Worth a try.”
They arose from the ridge and simply walked towards the hog roast, brandishing nothing more than their staffs. The two men at the fire quickly noticed them and reached for a horn. The deep booming device rang out around the valley. Before the two comrades had reached the fire, a dozen of the rugged wild men surrounded them, each armed with spears or staffs.
Markus and Bull just stood still, eyeing up their opponents, calculating their response to a fight if need be. Finally, a man pushed two of his countrymen aside and forced his way to the front to observe the two strangers. He was immediately recognisable as the leader, wearing a thick gold chain wide around his shoulders, decorated with precious stones. The chain was of the type worn by the Werstrian Royal Family and Lords.
“I am Vesart, leader of these people, who are you?”
“Markus Handel of Moden, and my friend, Bull.”
“These are dangerous lands to wander, what is your purpose?”
“We seek the lost tower of the Werstrian Lords, to provide us with the weapons and armour we require to fight back against the Karsian invaders,” replied Markus.
The leader laughed, joine
d quickly by his men.
“We are the keepers of the tower, what it holds now belongs to us!”
“You did not make it or buy it, it belongs to nobody,” said Bull.
“Our spears say otherwise!” snapped Vesart.
“Please, listen to me. The Karsians are sweeping across Werstria, the winter is all that has slowed their progress. All that we require is enough equipment to arm us ready for war. If you do not help us, your beloved forest will surely be overrun before the year is out,” Markus said.
“We have lived here this long, why should these new people prove any more threat to us than the last?” Vesart asked him.
“They bitterly hate every Werstrian alive and anyone associated with them. You live and guard a tower of Werstria, what do you think they will make of that?”
“We do not care for the troubles of others.”
“We are taking what we want, whether you give it to us or we take it from you,” Bull added.
Vesart shot a piercing look at Bull, the hostility building in his face.
“You should be more careful with your tongue!”
“Ok! Let us not spill unnecessary blood on either part!” shouted Markus.
“Then I suggest you leave!”
“I have a better idea. Your best against my friend Bull here, staffs only. If your man wins, we will leave you and never come back. If my man wins, we take all that we can carry from the tower.”
Vesart stopped to think for a minute, clearly enticed by the idea of the chance to humiliate a rival without risking major bloodshed on is people. He nodded his head as the idea appealed to him more and more as each second passed that he contemplated it.
“Alright! Yorlor!” Vesart shouted.
The leader grinned with delight. He was obviously a man who enjoyed the entertainment of combat. The tribe spread out in a wide circle in the opening before their fire. Bull pulled off the furs that were covering his upper body, revealing the hulking mass of a man that he was. Despite his vast size, he was a more agile man than Markus had first seen the day of the battle in Raubuck. The months of intense training had sculpted his body, removing any excess of fat and defining every muscle like a monument of the bygone heroes that decorated their cities. He was now as agile as he was strong.
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