Bladeborn

by Clayton Schonberger

  Deocarla responded calmly, “He was a good man before the Rhinolon captured his parents, Esket. That is also known.”

  There was a moment of silence where Esket looked like he was about to froth over with anger. Then Bladeborn said, “It was…most honorable for you to do that, my Queen,” He was completely impressed with her act of kindness. He was confused by Lord Esket’s aggressive behavior, but Esket was the Queen’s bodyguard, after all.

  Deocarla went on to say, “I try to make a difference in my Kingdom, for the good…If I can do a simple thing, my day is complete.”

  Later that night, when Bladeborn returned to his apartment in the royal wing of the Realm, Nightslayer spoke:

  ~~Did you not notice what was odd about today, Swordsman?~~

  “What do you mean, Nightslayer?” Bladeborn asked the Sword.

  ~~A man, begging for medicine…mistrustful…clothing in rags~~

  “There are poor in each part of the world,” Bladeborn said. “The First Realm is not free of such a thing.”

  ~~Esket is not to be trusted, Swordsman. He will stand in the way of you and Deocarla in the future~~

  Bladeborn didn’t know what to believe, or why Nightslayer had suggested such a thing. Nightslayer seemed to be suspicious of everything.

  Over the next few weeks, Bladeborn worked on his muscle groups and speed. With the Sword and a new shield, he entered an intense schedule of training and practicing with the Knights of the underground city. The Knight had grown used to him, and some of them now worked with him.

  Nightslayer was a marvel to the realm’s Knights. None had seen a Sword like it, and none could best Bladeborn when he held it.

  Until that time, Bladeborn relied on his quickness to carry him through battles. But now, he welcomed the extra protection of the armor. He began to wear his armor constantly, removing it only to bathe. Some found this habit to be a bit disconcerting; but Nightslayer said:

  ~~The armor you wear is your true and only home. ALWAYS remember that, Bladeborn~~

  Bladeborn treated each man, Knight or otherwise, with respect and good will. However, he wasn’t winning any friendships. Not only was he an outsider, some even seemed to consider him to be a barbarian, and they would privately say that Queen Deocarla was foolish in her “affair” with him.

  Bladeborn mentioned this to Deocarla one night over dinner. “Deocarla, do you know that your Knights think that I am too young for you? They whisper that I am not a wise choice for your affections.”

  “Where does this come from?” Deocarla asked, truly interested.

  “I have overheard them while I was training. I cannot help but notice.”

  “It does not matter, my love,” she waved her hand dismissively. “We know how we feel about one another. They will grow to accept you.”

  Bladeborn felt it necessary to go on, “Yet, I am certain that there is a level of resentment toward me which grows each day.”

  “You mustn’t do anything to annoy or antagonize them,” she stated taking a sip from her winecup. “These men are all older than you, after all, and they have their pride.”

  “Do you know something of this, my Queen? It sounds as though you were in the training hall with me the last few days. It has really become a significant issue. The problem is, when I train lightly, they laugh at my weakness. If I train harder, they are overwhelmed and sometimes driven to outbursts of anger.”

  “Do you wish for me to step in and come to your defense?” the Queen’s eyes flashed playfully, and Bladeborn sensed that she was only teasing about this. “I can be protective if you want me too, although it may seem unmanly for you to have me help in such a way.”

  “No,” he said firmly. “I can deal with the Knights and their competitive nature.” Bladeborn sat back in his chair thoughtfully, wishing that the men were more cooperative. “I guess I am simply complaining. I wanted to show them that I can lead them into battle, despite being younger than they are.”

  Queen Deocarla asked him pointedly, “Please…try to ignore their joking manners, and simply enjoy your exercise periods for the good health that they bring. Don’t disturb the peace and status quo in the First Realm with any kind of regrettable action. Joke back with them! Nothing shall ever come of their witticisms unless you start reacting badly to them, my love.”

  Bladeborn responded, “I will not do anything to upset the Knights if I can help it, my Queen. But I have a limit, as all men do.”

  “Don’t say such foolish things, my champion. The Knights of the First Realm are all gentlemen. Don’t allow them to ruffle you. We are all better than that.”

  Bladeborn felt the issue was unresolved but he held his tongue about it the rest of the night.

  The following two days, training with the Knights of the First Realm became more difficult for Bladeborn, with contests of arms alarmingly competitive. Eventually, one of these competitions broke into open quarrelling with a Knight named Sir Dreadsta.

  Dreadsta was supposed to have been “practicing” with Bladeborn—sparring with the young man. But the older Knight aimed several killing blows at Bladeborn. After each of these dangerous neck or head attacks, Sir Dreadsta would apologize. Aware of what Sir Dreadsta was doing, Bladeborn knocked the older Knight down three times, each time more forcefully.

  “I have bested you again, good sir,” Bladeborn said offering his hand to help Sir Dreadsta up. But Dreadsta refused Bladeborn’s hand.

  “Thus, it would appear, swaggering Straw Man!” Sir Dreadsta, replied, arising from the practice room’s stone floor—slowly.

  “Straw Man?” Bladeborn asked. “What do you mean—?”

  “There are full men here, Knights in their prime… Men of quality and good spirit! YOU are like straw, empty and void of any real virtue and solidity!” Dreadsta spat a bit of blood on the practice room floor. Bladeborn’s last warning strike had possibly done more damage than intended. “I am finished for this day, impetuous one!”

  With that, Dreadsta left the room—filled with stifled anger. Grumbling, the other Knights also left. Each had realized what was going on during the contest.

  Bladeborn did not get a chance to discuss the day’s events with Deocarla at dinner that night. She left word that a party at the house of one of her Ladies-in-Waiting called her away from their dinner table.

  Bladeborn, eating alone, asked Nightslayer, “Why doesn’t she take me to these parties, Nightslayer?” I wish to be by her side!”

  ~~Swordsman, you are but a small fish… Someday you will be able to dictate such things. For now, you must be patient~~

  “How long must I wait?” Bladeborn wondered. “I have a desire to make some sort of ‘opening’ into my future.”

  ~~That is the correct attitude, warrior. I will watch for a chance to give you the opening that you need~~

  “You will watch?” Bladeborn asked, surprised. “What do you mean? How can you help?”

  ~~I gently influence the desires of men. Perhaps tonight you will see~~

  “You have mentioned this to me before, Sword,” Bladeborn remembered. “I am not so sure that I like you doing this.”

  ~~It isn’t a choice. It simply happens. You told me that you feel stymied waiting. I will come up with an answer~~

  Late that evening, Bladeborn slept with unusual restlessness.

  ~~Awaken, Swordsman! A thief has slipped into your apartment!~~

  By the light of a dimmed glow globe, Bladeborn saw a man next to the canopy bed slowly drawing a long dagger. Bladeborn rolled out from under the covers and grabbed for Nightslayer, narrowly avoiding the assassin’s weapon.

  Ripping the Sword of the Ancients from the scabbard, with lethal force Bladeborn drove it into the chest of his assailant. The man howled and slipped off the length of the Sword in his death throes. Turning the light up, Bladeborn saw the assassin had been Sir Dreadsta himself. It seemed the Knight had worked out a scheme to avenge himself and gain possession of the Sword.

  The scream Sir Dreadst
a made at his death awoke all in the palace. Moments later, when the Queen and Royal retainers arrived, Bladeborn was standing over the now-dead Knight. To each of them it was clear: Bladeborn had killed the man in self-defense.

  The events leading to Dreadsta’s death were quickly pieced together. Sir Dreadsta entered Bladeborn’s room through subterfuge, making sure the man assigned to be Bladeborn’s squire was away.

  There was further investigation, and all the members of Sir Dreadsta’s family were summoned. Meanwhile, many members of Deocarla’s court got out of their beds to see what had happened. While everyone waited for the assassin Knight’s family to be brought to the mustering hall, Deocarla paced the floor like an angry brush-cat. She spoke with several members of her court, including Lord Esket. Deocarla was visibly torn about what to do next. Bladeborn told her to be calm, and she snapped.

  “You have brought this on yourself, Bladeborn,” Deocarla said. “Lord Esket has told me how you use your weapon to disgracefully defeat even my most seasoned Knights in single combat each day in training. It is something you never mentioned to me personally, except in passing. By Saint Morth! If I had known how out of control the situation was I would have stepped in earlier! Did I not give you council about allowing my Knights their jests? Now disaster has struck and a respected Nobleman is dead. What is to be done?”

  Bladeborn understood Deocarla’s accusation and could not deny it, yet he was shocked by her outburst. Sir Dreadsta was the one guilty party here, Bladeborn felt.

  Yet, Bladeborn bowed his head and backed down from her. Her anger toward him came as a surprise. He thought she would be more supportive—and more temperate, even in such a circumstance. Her anger seemed misguided and out of character.

  ~~Something has changed in your Queen, Bladeborn. I think her feelings for you have waned~~

  “It cannot be, Nightslayer!” Bladeborn retorted. His emotions were aggravated, and Nightslayer’s comment grated on him.

  Now, the Sword was silent.

  A tense half hour passed while they waited for Dreadsta’s family to arrive. Deocarla whispered to Lord Esket and shook her head, as if refusing to listen further to his council. Yet, after several minutes, she took a stance with Bladeborn and continued to down dress him.

  “Again, I hear how you have often provoked my Knights, something I had warned you specially not to do, Bladeborn,” the Queen claimed.

  Lord Esket spoke up then, saying “I have only been doing my job, Queen Deocarla.”

  “Enough! Do not interrupt!” the Queen said. “Bladeborn, you reap what you sow. Esket has pointed out that this matter has gone completely out of my hands… Such an incident is governed by the laws of the Six Realms, and they are very specific. I am duty-bound to uphold the law.

  As Dreadsta’s family had entered the mustering area in the palace, and they now stood before Deocarla bowing their heads in fealty. Deocarla announced, “Control within my part of the Six Realms is essential! The law is clear in this case—all my subjects are aware of this…Lady Dreadsta, you and your family are to be cast out from the First Realm, never to return. The Noble Patriarch of your family has clearly attempted to murder another man, you must now face the consequences for his vile actions, according to the laws of old. Find your futures elsewhere.”

  Despite their pleas for mercy it looked as if the punishment would be carried out.

  “My Queen, there is no need,” Bladeborn called out, with the Dreadsta’s family still present. “Sir Dreadsta is slain. Be merciful here—simply let the Court know how close it has come to this.”

  Lord Esket shot an angry glance at Bladeborn, and he said, “Do not attempt to influence the Queen’s justice here, Bladeborn! Queen Deocarla has spoken and the law is clear!”

  “Both of you, be silent!” Queen Deocarla commanded. “I am not through yet! This is my order. Sir Dreadsta’s property, all his possessions, including his cavern cattle, are now Bladeborn’s. The attempt on Bladeborn’s life by Sir Dreadsta is a work of foul treachery, shaming us all.”

  Bladeborn stared at her, in shock.

  “But Bladeborn, you are in the wrong here, as well,” Deocarla went on. “I must act on the complaints of my trusted Knights and advisors, who are the beloved members of my court. You have pushed their patience beyond the limit with your challenges,” Deocarla seemed to be unsure of what to say for a moment.

  Bladeborn said, “If I have offended anyone, give me the chance to make it right!”

  The eyes of her court upon her, Deocarla seemed to know what it was her duty to do. She said, “It is too late for that, Bladeborn. I…I can no longer welcome you in the palace.”

  With this last declaration Deocarla cast her eyes downward. It seemed to Bladeborn that she was less than certain about it.

  Lord Esket loudly cleared his throat, and spoke right up: “That should make the Court more agreeable, my Queen.”

  “I do not need your commentary here, Esket!” Queen Deocarla shouted, frustrated nearly to tears.

  In a moment Bladeborn realized the situation had turned on him, and looking about at members of the Queen’s Court and saw he had few friends. Most of them looked at him coldly.

  ~~Do not question her, or she will become angrier! Agree with her, quickly!~~

  Bladeborn nodded deferentially.

  “These orders are to be carried out first thing tomorrow!” the Queen shouted. “Now, everyone, get back to sleep!” She turned to leave, and soon afterward, amid hushed murmurs, the assembled people began to disperse.

  “I pushed Sir Dreadsta too far, Nightslayer. I would never have guessed that he could do such a thing,” Bladeborn stated. “What if the other Knights hold such anger for me?”

  ~~They do not, I assure you. The scales were tipped tonight, and the result was unforeseen. However, you will arise from this setback, Swordsman! Tonight’s violence, and the Queen’s justice, will work in your favor! Just wait to see!~~

  Early the next morning, Bladeborn’s few possessions, which were mostly gifts given him by the Queen, were moved out of the palace by two tight-lipped men wearing the crest of Lord Esket. Bladeborn arrived at the compound making up the Dreadsta household, and found the Dreadsta family packing up their homes. Guards outside were making sure the operation went smoothly, more men whom Bladeborn had never seen before; yet they also wore the crest of Lord Esket.

  “Are you all Lord Esket’s men?” Bladeborn asked the Sergeant.

  “Yes, we are,” the Sergeant said, shifting the pike he held to his other hand casually. “This is regrettable business. I am sorry to be a part of it. It hurts us all.”

  Bladeborn thought the man’s attitude was uncommonly open, so he asked him, “What has Lord Esket been telling the Queen?”

  “Wait,” the Sergeant said, in dawning realization. “You’re the one who started all this! Well, fellah, my men and I got nothing to say to you!”

  Bladeborn frowned and walked into the Dreadsta household.

  When she saw Bladeborn, Lady Dreadsta apologized for her husband’s attempted murder, “He was a good man, and I don’t see how he could have done what he did, but the evidence is undoubted. My late husband is completely responsible for his irrational action. I still do not understand what could have driven him so!”

  She paused, and Bladeborn felt pity for her.

  Lady Dreadsta said again, “I can’t understand what madness could have gripped him to behave so. This is a disaster for us all.”

  The uncles, aunts and Dreadsta’s younger cousin, who was a squire, made similar apologies. Then Dreadsta’s mother asked Bladeborn if they could take their family heirlooms with them.

  “Of course, you can…” Bladeborn responded quickly. “I have no need of them.”

  Nightslayer said, ~~Bladeborn! What have you done? Now they will take anything they want from here!~~

  Indeed, over the course of the next day, the Dreadsta family held an auction, selling most of their “family heirlooms” for coin. The rest
was packed into crates and taken to the surface, where it was to be carried in wagons overland to the Second Realm.

  That night, Bladeborn sat alone on a crate by the hearth in the Dreadsta main hall. He noted that the Heartring he wore was still faintly glowing. Tomorrow, he would go to the palace wing, and ask to see Deocarla.

  Then, he heard a knock on the large, double doors to the Dreadsta household. Thinking that it was a message from the Queen, he rushed to answer.

  It was Brother Kregert. Noting the disappointment on his young friend’s face, Kregert said, “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

  “Come in, my friend.” Bladeborn welcomed him. “Come over to the fire. These crates will have to suffice as chairs.”

  “Where did all the furnishings go?” Brother Kregert asked in wonder. “Did the Dreadsta family take everything when they left?”

  “All but a few incidentals. Apparently, when I said they could take their heirlooms, that meant all of it…”

  Bladeborn and his friend took a seat by the fire and Kregert said, “Throw another log on, aright?”

  Bladeborn did so, and said, “They didn’t take the wood for the fire, so I can cook and stay warm. Otherwise I think it would be a bit chilly in here. I wish they hadn’t taken it all… to be honest, Brother Kregert, I feel like allowing them to have the furniture was a mistake, but I didn’t know the law on the matter. I don’t even have any money to buy things for the house… But they left a well-stocked larder. I told them that heirlooms didn’t include the food in the cellar.”

  “Well, young Bladeborn, there is a purpose to my visit,” Brother Kregert asserted. “Despite what others have said, I’ve always tended to believe the stories you told of your origins. And it is also my belief that things happen for a purpose…”

  “What are you getting at, Brother?”

  “I think it is providence that the Queen has kicked you out of her palace. If she hadn’t changed your situation drastically this week, you would have likely floundered under her wing.”