Blood and Steel
Copyright 2011
Martin V. Parece II
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be printed, scanned, reproduced or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
To my children, for who I do everything.
To my wife, without whom I could accomplish nothing.
Prologue
In the southwest of Aquis, there lived a commoner by the name of Pel. Approaching the middle age of thirty, he was a farmer and lived on the land his parents before him had owned and farmed. He was a good man, relatively unremarkable for his race, and he worked his land tirelessly. The land in Aquis was bountiful, and his farm provided him an ample living, despite its small size. Though a commoner, he was not a peasant; he owned the farm wholly, and during harvest he always hired help to reap and carry his goods to market.
He kept all that he needed to make through to the next harvest and gave a quarter of what was left to the nearby village to distribute to those who needed it most. The remainder of the harvest he took to Martherus, the second largest city in Aquis, to sell at market for a fair price. He used his cash to purchase whatever dry goods he needed and tithed most of what was left to Garod, the ruler of the western gods, and Hele the goddess of fertility and the harvest. Pel did this without fail every year, as he knew it would always pay him a dividend.
On his twenty eighth year, he happened upon a young lady while returning from the Martherus market. She was beautiful to his eye, though many others would consider her plain, and he chose to stop and speak with the man she was with, her senior by twenty or more years. The man was her father, and after much friendly discussion, invited Pel to overnight at their home rather than on the road.
Their home was rather quaint, only two rooms, a main room for everyone to spend their time and a separate bedroom for the adults. The girl’s name was Erella, in honor of Aquis’ great queen, and she slept on the floor in the main room. Her father apologized greatly for their meager home, explaining they were mere servants to one of the local lords, and they worked his land and helped in the affairs of farming in exchange for a home, protection and whatever food they needed. Pel waved off such deprecations; it was a home after all, and if it kept you dry and warm, it served its purpose.
Over a fair dinner of stew, to which Pel added some of his own meat as payment for the hospitality, he spoke with Erella’s father at great length of all matters of agriculture. The man was quite affable, and after a short while, they felt like fast friends. As the women cleaned the table, Pel took a smoke with the man outdoors sharing from the same pipe. At this point, Pel admitted, somewhat forwardly, that he stopped to become friends only because he had immediately felt taken with Erella upon seeing her. He felt sheepish about this fact, but he had recently come to realize his mortality would come one day, and he was without wife or sons. Pel explained that he would like to make Erella his wife, and he would treat her well.
Unfortunately, it was not quite so simple; as Erella was actually a servant of a lord, Pel would need to pay a dowry to the lord. It was a rather typical business arrangement, and the lord would need payment for being deprived of an employee. Beyond that, Erella’s father gave his blessing, realizing that his daughter would then become the wife of a landowner, not the daughter of a peasant,
That evening, Erella’s father offered his bed to Pel, saying that he and his wife would sleep on the floor with Erella. Pel refused to have the man sleep on the floor of his own house, and ensuring him that he had no dishonorable intentions, Pel said he would sleep on the floor in the main room with Erella. Perhaps, if she were inclined to conversation, he could learn more about the woman he hoped to make his wife. Erella was quiet at first, clearly shy towards a man whom she saw as her elder. Pel kept his word regarding his intentions, but he did explain to her what he hoped he could bring to pass. She somewhat shied away from this subject; though she did not express her fears, she knew there were other duties women were expected to fulfill to their husbands beyond cooking and cleaning. Several of the girls she had known as a small girl were already married, their bellies swelling with child.
In the morning, Pel took his leave of the family, embracing Erella’s father as a brother, and clasping Erella’s hand in what he hoped seemed a sincere fashion. He returned to stock his home with his purchases from the market, and while repairing his plow mulled over what he had learned of Erella. In the morning, he sent message to Erella’s lord asking what dowry would be deemed appropriate. Pel continued his farm work while he awaited an answer; winter was not far off, and he still had much to do to his home to prepare. Nearly three full weeks passed before he received a message with a noble’s seal upon it. He placed the message on his table as he continued the work for the day, and it wasn’t until after he ate a small supper of bread, ham and cheese that he opened the scroll with no small amount of trepidation.
The noble’s writing, if in fact it was his own, was a flowing script, extremely superfluous against his own pragmatic writing. The letter rambled on about the need for a noble to have servants to work his land, and they received much in return. Also, being a woman of childbearing years, this was a great expense, as he could well be giving up future generations of workers. The letter finally named a price, and Pel sat quietly sipping mead for several hours simply thinking it over. The letter laid out a formula based on pounds of meat, grain or money, or some combination thereof, and Pel calculated realizing that the noble was expecting roughly two fifths of his annual harvest. It was a high price, but he simply did not see another option; the noble had no need to negotiate. Besides, negotiation, especially in this matter, was repugnant to Pel.
He spent the next year working harder than he had before; he had much to plan for. Besides losing almost half of his harvest to the dowry, he also must plan on keeping more harvest and money for himself and his new wife. He quickly came to the realization he could only possibly increase his harvest by a tenth, which would not leave him able to provide as much charity as usual.
This troubled Pel; he had always made sure the local village received food from him for those in need, and he certainly could not do this and tithe. He chose to take a day of rest and went into the village to meet with Garod’s priest there; Jonn was a long time friend of Pel and his parents. The priest soothed Pel on this matter, explaining that he had always been a good man, respected by the community. Also, the gods knew Pel’s piety and would understand one lapse, especially since the joys of wife and husband were rights to all, denied neither by men or gods. This lent Pel strength, knowing that all would understand if he did not give his usual, and he worked hard that year during the growing season. Rewarded with a bumper harvest, he gave half of his usual charity and tithe, which was substantially more than he originally planned.
Pel left the market that year, heading directly for Erella’s home. He told her family that come tomorrow she would be free and married to him, if she desired it. He promised to be a good husband and that he would honor her; he knew she did not love him, but hoped that one day she may learn to. Pel slept the night there as he did the year before, and in the morning, Erella agreed to be his wife; she would respect him as husband, whether love came or not.
She left her home with him, and together they traveled to the noble’s estate inside the city, and as per the agreement, Pel brought a great burlap sack of money that totaled exactly to the noble’s requested dowry. The man tried several times to not honor the payment, first saying that he made no such agreement. Pel produced the noble’s own scroll, leading the man to claim the price had gone up since last year. In one of the few times of his life, Pel’s temper flared, and he slammed his fist on the noble’s heavy desk, saying t
hat he was no peasant and could not be dealt with in such a way. He would show the letter to a magistrate and ask him if the agreement was binding and equitable. The noble called for his exchequer, who after three countings agreed the payment was complete. The noble then handed one tenth of the silver back, asking that Pel forget the earlier unpleasantness.
Pel thanked him and left with his new fiancée, promising Erella that no man would ever pay anything for her again while she lived. They traveled back to Pel’s home, and on the morrow, reached the village near his homestead. He paid the savings on the dowry to his friend Jonn in exchange for a marriage service. The marriage took place in the center of town, just outside Garod’s temple, and the entire town witnessed Pel and Erella’s wedding.
Over the ensuing days, Erella came to know her husband simply by watching him go about his duties. Again, the harvest was over, and Pel set about preparing the home for winter, and on several occasions, she asked him what she could do to help him. He simply shrugged; having never had help before, he didn’t know what to do with it. She took on the duties she would normally do with her family, allowing Pel more time to do other things, or sometimes nothing at all. He had never imposed his will on her, nor tried to force her into other things.
Winter came, as winter does, and the home became colder, despite a constantly burning fire. There were less daylight hours, of course, and with a frozen ground there was less to be done. Erella had come to sleep with Pel, as she knew wives did, but only for warmth at first. A month into the winter, she realized her thoughts of him had changed; he made her feel safe, and she realized that working with him about the house and land, she was working for their life, not the life of a noble in a city. Before the winter broke, Erella was with child.
Erella had heard awful stories about pregnancy and childbirth, and it frightened her. She finally told Pel just as spring arrived and more work was being needed daily. At this, Pel refused to allow her to do any of the chores; he had never needed help in the past, and he could handle the load now, especially since she could scarcely eat without vomiting. While the inevitable sickness passed, her ability to help did not increase, nor would Pel have accepted help even if she were able. He knew he could provide for them both, and he also knew exertion could cause problems with pregnant women. There was no need to risk anything, and he had Jonn come from the village to bless them. A lifelong friend to Pel’s family, the priest embraced him and cried with happiness.
It seemed to Pel that harvest approached more quickly than usual, and he hired hands when the summer broke. Erella was well swelled at this point, and he would not allow her to do any work at all outside of cooking. In fact, he preferred that she stay indoors as much as possible, especially once he hired help. He didn’t like the way the young men looked at this wife; it was perhaps the first time jealousy had ever touched him, and he wondered at this feeling.
It was about a month before harvest, and over the last several weeks, Erella had felt occasional pains. The midwives had already explained to her that this would sometimes happen, and she shouldn’t worry unless they became regular and fast for a period of time or if her water broke. On one particular brisk morning, the pains came again, but refused to be soothed. She waited several hours, resting as the midwives told her, before telling Pel when he took his midday meal. Pel immediately sent one of his hired hands to the village to fetch the midwives and Jonn. The midwives arrived some time later, but the priest was conducting a funeral ceremony and would come as soon as it was concluded. Pel would not leave his wife’s side despite her urgings that there was nothing he could do to help.
As first labors tend to be, it was a long labor, lasting until shortly after midnight. Erella showed herself to be a fine, strong woman, and she finally birthed a howling baby boy. He was well made and healthy; Pel and Erella fawned over him as the midwives worked to set Erella to heal.
“He will be a fine son,” proclaimed Jonn, blessing him. “If you have decided on his name, I will perform the Naming now.”
“His name is Cor,” decided Erella, naming the baby after her father, as it was common practice in the Shining West for wives to name the sons and fathers the daughters.
The priest proceeded with the ritual, declaring the baby’s name Cor Pelson before Garod and the other gods of light. After, Jonn took his leave with one of the midwives, and the remaining midwife and Erella stayed in the bedroom, the midwife allowing her to sleep as much as possible. Pel sat heavily in a chair and slept with his head on his hands at the table.
* * *
Erella, Queen of Aquis, lay fitfully in her luxurious, silk canopied bed. Tonight, as most nights, she retired just before midnight, well after the moon had risen. Usually affairs of state left her drained and ready for sleep, but tonight she was restless. Her mind would wander off while she lay, starting to doze, only to come screaming back to her, bringing her to full consciousness. In her long reign, she had few nights quite like this one. She was not preoccupied with some matter; there was just a feeling of uneasiness, as if a dark storm cloud hovered on the horizon, just beyond her sight. She could feel a change in the world coming, and such changes were as frightful as they were exciting. The advantage to the status quo, whether good or bad, was stability; things could always get worse.
The ruler of Aquis, the Shining West’s largest kingdom, also had the distinction of being the High Priestess to Garod, and He bestowed upon her great longevity. Many would see her as a well aged matriarch in her seventieth year, but in fact she had been ruler for nearly a century. Erella’s form had thinned over the last thirty years, but she maintained a healthy appearance, despite having shrunk slightly to about five and a half feet tall. She had nearly waist-length hair, once blonde and now white that had not thinned over the years.
Queen Erella closed her eyes and opened them again to find herself on foothills overlooking a great plain with gorgeous purple mountains in the distance, the World’s Spine no doubt. The day was dark, the sun obscured by huge gray-black clouds, and the sound of thunder played in the distance. Two great armies faced each other across the plain, one of shining knights, robed priests and armored footmen. The other consisted of thousands of naked, shambling corpses and men who looked like Westerners, but they were a downtrodden lot, with the mark of the whip upon their backs. Behind these men were hundreds of tall figures with unnaturally stretched limbs, many of them cloaked in fine black garments.
Between the two hosts, Erella gazed upon a lone figure; he was not overly tall, standing about six feet in height. In one hand he held a razor sharp, single edged longsword, and in the other an evil looking fetish. He was clad in a heavy plate hauberk, with chain underneath and chain legguards with plates on the front of his thighs and shins. His helm struck her most oddly; large and bulbous, it did not appear to be made for a normal man’s head, and it had no visor, yet she had no doubt the man could see clearly. Solid black, the armor reflected light off of its high shine as the body of an insect or spider.
The two hosts charged each other and met at the warrior with a deafening crash, and men screamed as steel rang, blood and gore flying freely. The warrior stood in the middle of the great battle, cavorting wildly in the carnage as his blade hew its way through armor and flesh from both hosts. Slaves and corpses fell unmoving onto the beaten down plains grass as did armored soldiers as the two hosts endeavored to crush each other and the lone warrior. Dark sorceries of black, purple and red flew from the hands of the necromancers to be met by the white magicks of the priests. The dark sorcerers quickly raised the fallen to their cause while the priests healed their wounded as quickly as they could muster.
The warrior suddenly stopped his onslaught and raised both arms above his head, sword and fetish pointed to the sky. He ignored all of his foes. A dull roar began to rise in the distance; quiet at first, it gained in power before becoming so loud that even the embattled armies took notice. The combatants slowly ceased their attacks on each other, followed by larger numbers and
then finally both entire armies. The roaring sound had become massive, and Queen Erella saw they all looked at her. It then dawned on her that they actually looked past at something behind her.
Erella turned slowly, following their gaze and beheld a truly appalling sight; a massive dark tidal wave, a wall of water the deep red color of blood, raged towards the armies. It roared toward her at frightening speed, freezing her in place in momentary indecision before it reached her. It should have crushed her lithe frame with its force, but instead roared past, leaving the queen unharmed. It crashed down onto the two armies with more violence and carnage than thousands of armies could have ever created. It blasted bodies clear apart, totally annihilating both armies, soldiers, slaves, priests and necromancers in mere seconds. As it subsided, the red waves dissipated and the blood spread evenly across the plain forming a shallow lake mere inches deep as it slowly soaked into the earth. At the center stood the black steel clad warrior, both arms held to the heavens, still holding his sword and fetish.
Queen Erella bolted upright in bed. Sweat beading her forehead, she felt a terror and anxiety unlike any she had felt in decades. A warm, comforting glow appeared in her chamber, overpowering the light and warmth of her fire, and she slowly laid her head back onto her down pillows, allowing the presence of her god to wash over her. The glow faded, and with it went her anxiety leaving her alone in bed.
The queen, with a deftness and grace that belied her great age, swung her feet over the side of her bed and stood. She glided to the door of her chamber and opened it. The guard outside stood slightly more erect as she opened the door and entered the hall outside.
“Find me Palius. I need him at once, no matter what he is doing,” she commanded. Her voice was gentle, but there was no mistaking the sound of authority, and the mailed guard quickly saluted and clinked down the hallway, no doubt headed for Palius’ chambers.
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