Bladeborn

by Clayton Schonberger

  On a freezing day in mountains North of the Zelgron, Jonax came into camp—bearing only one pack beast with supplies.

  “Where are the rest of the pack-beasts with our food?” the warriors of Sun and Moon demanded of him.

  “I tried!” Jonax declared. “But there are lean times in the Realms as well! No one anywhere I visited had any food to spare other than this! And I could not buy the blankets and tents on credit!”

  It took great effort from both Bladeborn and Sir Rodon to keep the men from killing Jonax. Everyone in camp knew the lack of supplies could mean their deaths. They were too far from the Six Valleys to go back now, when the mountain passes were clogged with snow. All that they could do was hope that the Rhinolon trade caravans would keep coming through the rest of winter, so they could loot supplies for food.

  No support was coming from the Kings of the Six Valleys. Since early in the fall nothing had come from the First Valley, as though the Queen and her court had forgotten them.

  They began to freeze and starve. Yet the warriors stayed in the field despite the severe shortages.

  Bladeborn wrote long, personal letters to each King of the Six Realms. Jonax took the letters to southern courier posts, at great risk. Weeks later, Jonax returned with bad news. Four of the Kings claimed the coffers had long ago been emptied, paying for ransoms and other pressing concerns. It was not as Bladeborn remembered it to be: The First Realm had seemed to be prosperous. From what he knew, so were the other Realms. Yet it seemed there was not enough to spare for the Army of the Sun and Moon.

  At least King Lauren, the youngest leader of those in the Realms, responded thoughtfully: “Although I wholeheartedly support you and your men, Bladeborn, I am just a boy, and have no sense of such things. I am told by my regent that by the spring we will be able to send what you ask, and more.”

  Bladeborn went for many days hardly eating at all, for he could not stand to see his men suffered the pangs of hunger. His ribs stuck out from his chest beneath his armor his muscles shriveled over the course of the months of the winter.

  As Bladeborn suffered, he thought of the Queen, who he was fighting for, and it made the constant pain of malnourishment less noticeable.

  Every few weeks the Rhinolon tried to get a caravan through the snow to the Zelgron. These Rhinolon supply caravans were better guarded and they held fewer foodstuffs. Still, when the army of the Sun and Moon caught a caravan in the open, they would kill the Rhinolon Guards and immediately slaughter the pack animals, devouring every piece of them.

  “I have never had to feed and clothe an army of this size,” Sir Rodon confessed to Bladeborn. It was after a solemn night when three of the Drommu were found dead from exposure. “This is my fault.” Rodon said.

  Bladeborn assembled the men and said, “Our only recourse is to pray to Saint Morth for this unusually cold weather to let up. Remember your homes, your families, and let the thoughts of them warm your spirits.” His words were not much comfort, but the next day, as if in answer to their prayers, the weather warmed.

  But the winter was not over. They would all have certainly frozen to death or starved—too far afield to go home without hunger claiming them, and too cold to be out in the open—when finally, King Rosen sent some of what was asked of him… Tents to protect them against frostbite, warm blankets that were not ragged and flea-ridden like those of the Rhinolon, and—food. The supplies were delivered by Sera Ayaba, with Brother Kregert’s help, coming underground all the way from the Sixth Realm via the Grande Tunnel. The supplies raised morale enormously because they were proof the King recognized them for their deeds.

  Bladeborn took the letter that had come with the supplies to Sir Rodon, who could read the flowing longhand script more easily than Bladeborn. “What does this say, Rodon?” he asked.

  “This is the Royal seal and this…Oh!” Sir Rodon was dismayed. He leaned in close to Bladeborn. “Don’t breathe a word of this to the men.”

  “What is it, Rodon?” Bladeborn demanded. “This mark and these numbers? What do they say?”

  “It means, Bladeborn…” Sir Rodon lowered his voice, “The King asks us for tribute in return for the boon of the tents and blankets. He wants tenfold the cost of their purchase delivered six months hence, paid in gold.”

  Bladeborn felt to ask so much of starving soldiers, defending the nation at the height of a crisis, was wrong. Yet he said to his friend, “If we can just make it through this winter, we’ll be able to send him all he wants.”

  When the winter finally ended, the number of caravans again increased. Bladeborn had received no personal letter from Deocarla, but early in the spring she sent food, weapons, men, and mounts to help the substantial force. The two Knights who had left them the previous winter returned, bringing others with them.

  Those who came to join Bladeborn and Sir Rodon seemed concerned that they would resent being abandoned last fall. All the new arrivals were aware of how severe the winter had been. Letters written to wives by the men who had stayed in the field spoke of it at length. But Bladeborn held no grudge, and he asked the same of the men who rode out the winter with him.

  Now numbering closer to five hundred men and Drommu, the Army of the Sun and Moon graduated from attacking patrols to sacking outposts. The loot from the caravans and the outposts they raided kept them fed, and supplies from the Six Realms continued to come. Because of the victories in the battles that followed, the tales of the Sun and Moon spread further. Slowly, soldiers and Knights of the Valleys came to join the cause, for glory, riches, or simple vengeance, each of them bringing their men-at-arms. The campaign, now in its second year, saw warriors from every one of the Six Valleys united with the champion of the First Realm, Bladeborn.

  By mid-summer, the debt of gold owed to King Rosen had long since been paid. Consistent support was coming in from every one of the Realms.

  Their ranks swelled to a total camp of several thousand, with supply lines, wagons, and a mounted cavalry unit.

  Bladeborn became more accomplished at using his unique abilities. Each battle he stood a bit taller, and his psychic attacks were deadlier. His assaults with Nightslayer were also increasingly effective, like his ability to shout key commands during the heat of battle. Because of Bladeborn’s ability to increase his size, he could often be heard above the clash of arms. In a thundering voice like a kettledrum or a war-horn, he would give orders, shouting out, “FOR DEOCARLA AND THE SIX REALMS!”

  At the lead of the Army of the Sun and Moon, Bladeborn would tower over all others, carrying Nightslayer in one hand and a giant shield emblazoned with a red sunrise over six mountains. The shield, a gift from King Rosen of the Sixth Valley, and was sent in good faith and with no strings attached. Like Nightslayer, Bladeborn could make it grow using psychic Essence, until he and many men could hide behind it, gaining protection from arrows and spears.

  Rodon and the archers of the Moon had had learned much as well. Rodon was familiar with what Bladeborn would do in a situation, so he could time the arrows of his bowmen with deadly effectiveness. Even the leader of the Cliffwalkers, who led the Drommu force, took orders well, keeping the warriors of the Dawn mobile and effective.

  The war effort was yielding a lot of gold, as each Rhinolon they killed had a small amount of coin. Each outpost they took had a treasure box. There were also the trade goods they looted, which they would send home with the idea that they would be sold to help pay for the war.

  The people in the Realms all began to contribute, whether they were seamstresses or blacksmiths, farmers or cobblers.

  During strikes on small fortresses, Bladeborn could often knock down the gates with mighty blows of Nightslayer. If the construction was too strong, he would climb or leap over the walls, defending with his shield, attacking with sweeps of Nightslayer, lightning bolts, and waves of the Essence-based psychic power that was fatal to a dozen enemies at once. Thus, he often opened gates from the inside of a fortress.

  The humans had al
ways known that the Rhinolon hated fire. Since the army’s fortunes had grown, Rodon and the archers of the Moon began to use arrows wrapped in cloth and coated with flammable oil. The expensive oil was hard to make and difficult to transport, but the effect on Rhinolon buildings was devastating. The archers of the Moon would open their assaults by launching the flaming arrows over walls into the poorly constructed thatched roofs common to Rhinolon outposts. This would add to the panic of the brutes as they rushed to put the fires out.

  Many Rhinolon would flee into temples as soon as their outposts were attacked. Yet Bladeborn instructed the army to be cautious about burning the Rhinolon Temples in the outposts, and they always dealt carefully with Rhinolon Shaman.

  Bladeborn respected the Rhinolon Devil-powers. It had almost been the end of him, the one time he had killed an enemy Wizard-priest and challenged their gods. So, they tried to incapacitate the Shaman. Bladeborn carried a large, weighted, cargo net to throw on the Shaman that he saw, and often the net could hold a Shaman down until soldiers of the sun could tie its hands and gag its mouth. The captured Shaman would then be sent in wagons to Onager or left tied to the burning ruins of their outposts.

  ***

  Two years earlier, Durg the Despicable had sent the Rhinolon Northern Legion to the Blasted Plain. Their main objective was to find and kill the “accursed one,” who was carrying the Sword of the Ancients. Now, the Northern Rhinolon Legion was ordered back home to areas around the river port city of Onager. It would take months for them all to return. Bladeborn and the men of the Six Valleys reaped a terrible toll on the Rhinolon legion as they trickled slowly into their mustering point, parched and tired from days of forced march.

  In the eastern Raider Marches that fall season, thousands of Rhinolon died to the army of the Six Realms, and hundreds of Drommu prisoners were released. Some of the Drommu were inspired to join the force of the Dawn.

  There was no sign of Swiftknife or the “Drommu of the Blood,” yet word had it that they had fled to the far North of the Blasted Plain.

  The Rhinolon warriors that survived the assaults of the Sun, Moon, and Dawn finally assembled in Onager, awaiting orders. Durg ordered two ten-thousand soldier units to scour the hills of the Spiral Mountains for the Six Valley army.

  Bladeborn worried that staying afield would be difficult, and he wished to go home to the First Valley and see Deocarla. Thus, he sent word to the first Realm, asking permission to winter the Army there. Deocarla said that each of the Kings agreed to contribute food to the Army while the wintered in the First Realm.

  Yet the curse of infertility was not lifted…Bladeborn wondered, how could he face Deocarla?

  ***

  Bladeborn, Rodon, Lomazi, and the other Knights who made their homes in the First Realm, along with the rest of the Army of the Sun, Moon, and Dawn arrived at the gate of the First Valley’s underground after a long march North. They had come through the early snows of winter, and now they were hailed by cheering throngs who had turned out to the surface to welcome them.

  “Look at this,” Sir Rodon said to Bladeborn. “Such acclaim!”

  “Aye, where were they last winter?” Sir Lomazi wondered.

  Bladeborn argued with the Guards at the gate about letting the Drommu inside the First Realm, and all the Knights backed him up. Eventually, the Guards relented and the Drommu were allowed in. The Chief of the Cliffwalkers led the Drommu down a back way to the farthest reaches of the First Realm where they were to be housed. Only Bladeborn and Jonax went with them to make sure they were all right getting settled in.

  The Knights spent the afternoon relaxing and cleaning up, and then they went to the official welcoming ceremony, led by Queen Deocarla herself. Having been busy seeing to the Drommu, Bladeborn was late arriving, but when he did a cheer came from all those gathered.

  Queen Deocarla had made no public appearance for two years. Now she came out from the palace wing in a beautiful, flowing dress, setting floral wreathes on the brows of Bladeborn and the First Realm Knights.

  In the mustering area of the First Realm, people crammed together side-by-side to see the victorious leaders of their army recognized as heroes. Queen Deocarla announced:

  “Your unprecedented victories against our hated foes have brought new life to the Six Valleys. My brother, King Rosen Procasseye, Lord of all the Realms, has authorized me to make Bladeborn General of the Army of the Six Realms. General Bladeborn, to fulfill the bargain I made when I personally ordered you to begin these actions against the Rhinolon, I reward you your weight in gold. Upon my recommendation, Sir Rodon Thell is awarded fifteen gold bars. The other Knights of the Realm are awarded ten gold bars apiece, payment for their actions on behalf of the Kingdom.”

  There was a resounding cheer from the people.

  Deocarla had yet to make eye contact with Bladeborn or show any emotion other than formally necessity. Yet she still wore the Heartring—he could see it on her finger. Bladeborn pinched his Heartring as he stood before her, uncertain of her intentions toward him.

  Bladeborn gripped the hilt of Nightslayer and thought to the Sword, “She remembers that two years ago she promised me my weight in gold as a reward. I think that she remembers everything about what we had, even that she promised to make me King if I could lift the curse.”

  ~~Yet she apparently read none of your letters, Swordsman. Despite her promises, the question remains: how does she remember you, and how does she look upon your future with her~~

  The ceremony went on for some time, and Bladeborn began to feel uncomfortable. The war was a brutal, bloody affair, and many good men had died in it.

  It was particularly heart-wrenching for Bladeborn to be so close to Queen Deocarla when she appeared to regard him with such distance. Bladeborn saw the Queen’s personal guardsman, Lord Esket, standing right next to her. Could there be something between the two of them? Could Nightslayer be right?

  When ceremony was over, Bladeborn returned to the household of Dreadsta with Jonax. Having proven his loyalty and worth time and again, Bladeborn trusted his squire to procure many rare items for the war… Curative herbs for the severely wounded, flaming oil, additional arrows for Rodon’s archers of the Moon, and better weapons for the Drommu of the Dawn.

  The following day, Bladeborn visited Yury the armor smith for repairs and ways to make the metal suit more comfortable. Jonax left that night to order all the remaining items on their list, for the campaign would continue next spring. The extensive house formerly of the Dreadsta family would be used to store the rarest goods Jonax collected.

  Brother Kregert stopped by after Bladeborn had talked with Yury the smith.

  “It is good to see you, my friend,” Bladeborn enthusiastically shook the hand of the old priest of Saint Morth. “How long has it been? Nearly two years, if I am not mistaken?”

  “That’s correct, General!” Brother Kregert acknowledged, coughing a bit. He pointed the mouthpiece of his pipe at Bladeborn’s chest. “You have done well!”

  “Thank you, my friend,” Bladeborn said. “I’m afraid I still don’t have a stick of furniture. I still sit on the crates.”

  “Perhaps with your new-found wealth you can remedy that?”

  “I plan to spend it all on next year’s war effort,” Bladeborn said. “There won’t be much left over. Jonax, my squire is already ordering some of the supplies.”

  Brother Kregert coughed again.

  “Are you alright, Brother?” Bladeborn asked, concerned.

  “Nothing that a little mushroom wine wouldn’t cure,” he said,

  “I’ll get you that drink,” Bladeborn said, turning toward the stairs to the kitchen. As he was coming up from the cellar with the wine, he could hear Brother Kregert coughing harder. When Bladeborn returned, he poured his friend the drink. Kregert accepted it with shaky hands and downed it.

  “Are you sure you’re ok?” Bladeborn asked.

  “Aye,” Kregert responded. “Listen, Bladeborn, as much as I would
like to fill you in on all I know of Queen Deocarla’s comings and goings, I can’t… Some time ago, Lord Esket had me expelled from the palace wing. I now live like I did fifty years ago, with the Monks in Saint Morth temple cloister.”

  “That’s simply wrong, Brother Kregert!” Bladeborn exclaimed. “Why were you expelled? How could they do that?”

  “Lord Esket’s pikemen didn’t say why I was to leave, other than it was time…” He scratched out his pipe reticently, and tapped it on the heel of his well-worn sandal. “…But I didn’t just stop by so you could dote on poor old me,” Kregert said.

  “I still cannot believe it,” Bladeborn said.

  “Worry not, just pour me another drink,” Kregert said winking a bit. “despite not being in the palace wing I have some information you might find useful.”

  Bladeborn smiled and filled his cup again, “What’s the story, my friend?”

  Kregert leaned in and said, “You know that the Queen is broke, right? I am sure she borrowed the reward money from Lord Esket’s personal fortune.”

  “How could the Queen be broke?” Bladeborn asked. “Jonax has explained to me that there are currently no taxes in the First Realm. That’s a sign of prosperity, right?”

  “It is a sign of the opposite, I am afraid to say. The extreme austerity experienced in all the Realms relates to the decline in population.”

  “It is something I will take into consideration when seeing the Queen tonight.” Bladeborn said. “What else is happening? How is the Queen?”

  “I have heard that she and Lord Esket are constantly at odds…they bicker all the time.”

  “Why doesn’t Deocarla thrown him out of the palace, then?”

  “Those outside the palace aren’t really sure. I know Lady Veloth well, but she’s is tight-lipped about it. During the hard season we had a year ago, when the crops failed across the Realms, even those in the First Realm’s palace wing were going hungry some days. Times are better now, but it was a very difficult time for Deocarla, to see her people struggle so. Many elderlies died last year, victims of the poor harvest.”