The Swine and The Steed

Writing short stories set in Ganoltir? Post them here to show them off and receive feedback!
Post Reply
User avatar
Namelessjake
Plane Wings Sharp Like Katana
Posts: 3928
Registered for: 11 years 2 months
Location: Blockbuster

The Swine and The Steed

Post by Namelessjake »

3E 154Y

Chapter 1

“Are you sure you don’t want to stop?” Ser Cregan teased.
“I’m good,” Ser Daris replied, spitting out a mouthful of blood and brushing a lock of brown hair out of his face as the two knights circled each other. Swords raised with both hands gripping the hilt, Daris’ eyes narrowed.

He thrust quickly, but Cregan easily parried the attack, knocking the attacker off balance. Seeing an opening Cregan lept forward with an attack of his own, raising his blade high. However steel met steel with an almighty ring, much to Cregan’s surprise, as Daris blocked the blow and countered with an elbow to the face. The plate metal of Daris’ armour connecting hard and stunning Cregan. Making use of his advantage Daris delivered a final powerful blow to the man’s stomach. The blunted training sword simply bounced off Cregan’s armour, but the blow still knocked him to the ground.
“Now I’m done,” Daris said with a smirk, tossing his sword to his squire, his younger cousin Rorin Caine, and offering the downed knight a hand up. Cregan took the man’s hand, reluctantly standing to his feet and passing his own sword to Daris’ squire.

“You know with a shield, I’d have had you,” he said with a smile, wiping the blood from his nose.
“Well that’s why I thought I should make the most of today,” Daris replied, returning Cregan’s smile. “Now we should go change, we don’t want to be late for the feast. You should wear your white tunic. The Princess might like it.”
“Please, the King wouldn’t allow anything to happen between us. My father was the first in our family to be landed. And House Tarner is still just a Knightly House. We’re not as noble as you Caines. You’ve got a better chance than I.” It was true, Ser Daris Caine came from a long line of nobility. He himself was heir to his Father’s lands in Trelheim.
“Ah but I’m a foreigner,” Daris laughed. “King Euric wants a nice Fatherlander for his daughter. Well that or a relative of one of the great houses. Plus I’m only here because my father and King Alwin lost a war. I doubt the King views his ward as a potential suitor for his daughter.”
“You’re not really foreign though, not like the Southerners or the Imardanians. Some people are starting to suggest Tulrisse should be one Kingdom. Apparently a couple of the southern kings are just calling themselves Lords now to show support for the idea.”
“That’ll never happen,” Daris laughed, as the two men began to leave the yard. “It was only two hundred years ago the Southerners were all at each others throats, and they dislike us more than they dislike each other. Now can we save the politics for tonight. There’ll be enough of it.”

The grand hall of Holdfast Keep was already starting to fill up as Daris entered wearing a yellow doublet emblazoned with small red rearing stallions, the sigil of House Caine. The high table sat across the top of the hall while two longer tables ran the length of it with a great hearth fire between them. Daris sat at the end of one of the longer tables, near to the high table. The King wasn’t fond of him but his standing was still higher than most in the court.

A serving girl quickly filled his goblet with wine and he relaxed in his chair, sipping his drink and waiting for the rest of the guests to arrive.

It was the annual celebration of the five gods of the Tulrissian Pantheon, the fifteenth such celebration he had endured since he had come to Holdfast as King Euric’s Ward, just five years of age. As various minor nobles and clergymen filtered into the hall, it wasn’t long before Daris caught sight of Cregan, his short black hair neatly combed and wearing a white tunic with a green boar sewn on, the sigil of his own house, House Tarner.

“A wise decision friend,” Daris smirked from behind his goblet as Cregan took the seat opposite him. “You’ll be in bed with her before you know it,” he said with a wink as Cregan had his own goblet filled by the serving girl.
“I highly doubt that. Now down to business. The High Priest’s speech, longer than last year?”
“Shorter,” Daris said quickly. “Although that is mostly out of hope. You know five gods is a lot of gods. You Fatherlanders should just pick one like the rest of the Kingdoms do.”
Cregan laughed. “Twenty gold pieces says its longer. Mostly out of spite.”
“You’re on,” Daris said as the two knights clinked their goblets together and downed the contents.
User avatar
Namelessjake
Plane Wings Sharp Like Katana
Posts: 3928
Registered for: 11 years 2 months
Location: Blockbuster

Re: The Swine and The Steed

Post by Namelessjake »

It wasn’t long before the hall was full of guests and the celebrations commenced. The High Priest’s speech began the proceedings, with most of the guests patiently waiting for the old man to finish his religious ramblings so they could begin to drink and eat.
“And now let us feast upon the bounty provided to us by the Gods themselves,” he finally said before taking his seat. The King clapped twice and the servants appeared, carrying a veritable smorgasbord of plates and dishes.
“Well you win,” Daris said, sliding a stack of twenty gold coins across the table. “I’m glad that’s over.”
“You’re not the only one,” Cregan said, pocketing the coins with a smirk. “Now the fun starts though,” he added as an assortment of bread cheese and fruits was placed in front of them.
“Fighting heavy cavalry armed with nothing but this spoon would be fun after that speech,” Daris joked, waving a spoon in Cregan’s direction, before digging into the first course of the feast.

The servants brought out plate after plate and course after course as the nobility and clergy of Holdfast gorged themselves. The wine flowed fast throughout the evening too. It was said to be the mark of a bad King if he could not provide a large enough feast for the annual celebrations. The two young knights were no exception either, both making the most of the lavish offerings and the excellent vintage.

The morning sun streamed through the half open curtains, waking Ser Cregan Tarner. “Not so bright,” he mumbled, rolling over the avoid the sunlight, his head rather delicate from the night before. Next to him lay Alia Eprien, the daughter of one of the King’s royal guard. She was still asleep and Cregan lay still for a moment, admiring how peaceful and beautiful she looked. It wasn’t the first time he had woken up next to her and in truth the two of them had grown rather close. However she was already betrothed to another and Cregan suspected his father had greater ambitions for his son than the daughter of a prestigious, yet unlanded, knight. Even Daris didn’t know about the two of them.

Carefully sliding out of bed, so as not to wake Alia, Cregan thought back to the night before, wondering what had become of his friend. As he and Alia had left the Great Hall he recalled seeing Daris stood on one of the tables with several others, armed linked and deep in song. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the sight. Cregan quietly pulled on some trousers and a loose fitting tunic, and made his way to the window. His room in the castle overlooked the main courtyard, through which most of the daily goings on in the castle passed. The courtyard was quiet so soon after dawn. A couple of guards slowly made their rounds as a few servants hurried about going about their early morning chores. Cleanup for the feast would likely be the order of the day for most of the castle’s servants.

A knock at the door took Cregan’s attention away from the window. He wasn’t expecting anyone and it was strangely early for visitors. The knight strode across his room to the door in a few steps, as a rather minor member of the King’s court he wasn’t afforded much luxury or space. Cregan slid the bolt across slowly, still trying not to wake Alia. The large oak door creaked slightly as it opened to reveal one of the castle guard. Cregan quickly leant against the door trying to high the bed from sight.
“Ser Cregan of House Tarner,” the guardsman said, standing to attention as the door opened. “King Euric Corbray II, Lord of The Fatherlands and Protector of the Five summons you to an audience in the throne room.” Cregan simply sighed and nodded and the guardsman turned on his heel.

“What do you think it’s about?” Alia asked softly after Cregan had closed the door, surprising the young knight.
“Ah you’re awake,” Cregan smiled, walking back over to the bed and giving her a short kiss. “I have no idea. I should probably go though, don’t want to keep his grace waiting.”
“The King can wait,” Alia said with a smirk, grabbing Cregan by the tunic and pulling him on to the bed.

Meanwhile Daris was awoken by a bucket of water. He jolted upright, in a state of shock from his sudden awakening. He found himself drenched, sitting in a pile of hay next to a large mare, his head pounding. Looking up he saw two young stable boys laughing, one holding a bucket. Daris locked eyes with them and their smiles quickly faded.
“Run!” One shouted, grabbing his friend by the sleeve and tugging him along. Daris chuckled to himself knowing he was in no condition to give chase. He slowly got to his feet and began the walk back to his quarters.

Eventually he reached his quarters and after some fumbling with the key, he staggered over the threshold and collapsed on to a chaise longue, glad it was early and he had bumped into very few people on his journey from the stables. As the King’s ward Ser Daris Caine had some of the nicer quarters in the castle. They consisted of three large rooms; an entrance room with a table large enough for four, a study, and a bedroom.
Daris was just starting to fall asleep once more when he was awoken again by the sound of someone at the door. He reluctantly stood up and opened the door.
“Ser Daris of House Caine. King Eur-” the guardsman began.
“No,” Daris interrupted. “Please not today. Just go. Just turn around, leave and tell him you couldn’t find me. Let me sleep off this hangover in peace.” The guardsman paused for a moment before deciding to continue with his message anyway.
“King Euric Corbray II, Lord of The Fatherlands and Protector of the Five summons you to an audience in the throne room.”
Daris sighed looking down then back to the guardsman and shut the door. There was a pause and then another knock at the door.
“I’m going! You can leave now!” Daris shouted, started to pull off his damp clothes.
User avatar
Namelessjake
Plane Wings Sharp Like Katana
Posts: 3928
Registered for: 11 years 2 months
Location: Blockbuster

Re: The Swine and The Steed

Post by Namelessjake »

About fifteen minutes later, Daris and Cregan found themselves in front of King Euric. They were not alone Daris noted. Three other knights; Ser Barynn Norram, Ser Ethan Teredor, Ser Gillis Presham, and one of King Euric’s lesser lords, Lord Trystan Daltierre. They all stood patiently, waiting for the King to deal with another audience before them. It was hard to listen in on but from the odd couple of words Daris figured it was something about sheep grazing and quickly tuned out. Instead he turned his attention to what he knew of his company.

To his far right, past Ser Cregan, there was Ser Barynn, the largest of the men assembled. The brother of a Lord somewhere in the East of the Fatherlands, he was known for a great deal of martial prowess. He had unseated Daris in a joust a couple of years ago, something he was still rather bitter about. The Norram family sigil was two yellow towers on black.

Ser Ethan, on Daris’ left, was recently knighted, only aged sixteen. He had been the squire to one of the Royal guards but Daris had never heard of the Teredor house before. Either it was tiny or very new, Daris decided, much like Cregan’s house. The boy reminded him of his own squire, Rorin, who was about the same age.

On Daris’ far left stood Ser Gillis Presham, also known as Ser Gillis the Gallant. A knight of some repute. He was said to have defeated the Prince of Peloth in single combat. Some said the Prince’s sword broke during the duel and Ser Gillis waited for him to rearm himself before continuing. Ser Gillis himself was only a distant cousin of his house’s head who ruled over lands in the South of the Fatherlands. Two crossed red swords on a purple background formed their sigil.

And then there was Lord Trystan. He stood slightly ahead of the knights, eagerly awaiting their audience with the King. A mace over the moon was his sigil. He ruled over a small area close to Holdfast and as such he spent a lot of time in the King’s court, constantly trying to curry favour and up his standing. Daris was not fond of him.

Daris suddenly felt the strong hand of Cregan pushing him forwards. Lost in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed the King call them forwards. As they came to a stop at the foot of the throne, Cregan quickly pulled a small piece of straw out of Daris’ hair with a quick smirk.
“You’re probably all wondering why I called you here so early in the morning,” King Euric began. Well into his fifties, the King was showing signs of his age, however he was far from incapable and most considered him to still be a strong and able ruler. “In the early hours of the morning, when many of you were probably still enjoying last night’s festivities,” the King continued, shooting a glance at Daris. “A rider came to us with a message from Lord Kargil with word of raids along our border with Gribsen’s Bluff. Lord Trystan, you are to lead these knights and twenty men on a mission to quell these raids. So close to Holdfast they cannot be tolerated. You should leave before noon.”
“It’ll be done your Grace,” Lord Trystan replied, bowing. The knights followed suit and they were dismissed.

“Well it’ll beat training in the yard with your fat arse,” Daris teased Cregan as they made their way out of the throne room.
“True. Hopefully this isn’t a prelude to war with Erlfeld though. I’d rather not be involved in starting that,” Cregan replied, clearly not in a jovial mood like Daris. “I’ll see you later when we ride out. I have something I’d like to attend to first,” he added, thinking of Alia. Daris eyed his friend slightly suspiciously before bidding him farewell. As Cregan left to find Alia, Daris left to find his cousin Rorin, he certainly wasn’t going to do his own packing if he didn’t have to.

Chapter 2

Later that day, the party assembled in the main courtyard, ready to deliver the King’s justice to the raiders. Most of the Knights had their own squires who were carrying most of their supplies and their house banners, except for Ser Cregan and Ser Ethan who were resigned to carry out those duties themselves. Lord Trystan positioned himself at the front of the column, under both his own banner and that of the King, and gave the order to ride. The procession slowly flitered out through the castle gates and into the town of Holdfast itself. In total, counting the knight’s retainers and the King’s men at arms, they numbered two and thirty.

Many of the peasants stopped to watch as they rode through the streets. The ones who watched the longest were young, Daris noted. The girls likely dreaming of being swept up by a handsome knight and the boys dreaming of doing the sweeping. He chuckled slightly to himself at the thought and waved to a pair of girls leaning out of a window. They giggled and quickly disappeared inside.

Their route took them past the Temple of the Five. The only major temple in all of Tulrisse dedicated to all five gods in the Tulrissian Pantheon, even Daris couldn’t help but admit it was an impressive structure. It’s main bell tower dominated the city’s skyline and the bells themselves could be heard for miles. As they entered its shadow the great wooden doors opened and several priests came forth to bless the warriors. Daris, ever a cynic, paid them no notice, however many of the more pious members of their group stopped, some passing their weapons to the priests to be blessed.
Most people in the Fatherlands worshipped all five gods of the Pantheon equally. The rest of Tulrisse, including Ser Daris’ homeland of Trelheim, tended to prefer one or two other the others. Daris’ father was partial to Fausta, the Goddess of the Beasts, but Daris himself had never really bought into the divine.

Their expedition soon left the protection of Holdfast’s walls and rode out onto the open road. As with most major cities in Tulrisse, the immediate area around Holdfast was mostly fields and small villages, but after a few hours they had left that behind and the only sign of civilisation was the road they travelled on. As they made their way through a small wood, Ser Creagan steered his horse through the column, over to Ser Daris.
“How long do you think it’ll take us to get there?” He asked.
“Around nightfall tomorrow we’ll have to start looking out for trouble, but maybe another day after that until we reach Gribsen’s Bluff,” Daris replied, the geography of Tulrisse had be drilled into him as a child. “Hopefully there’s not too many men to deal with. If it’s a group of bandits we could be out here for months trying to track them down. A quick victory and a hero’s return is what I’m hoping for,” he chuckled.
“It would be nice to garner some recognition in the court,” Cregan said, thinking of Alia.
“Some how I don’t think I’m ever going to have that. I wouldn’t be surprised if King Euric sent me with you, just to be rid of me for a while,” Daris said. “I tried court politics when I was younger but quickly gave up when I realised he hated me. Maybe I’ll have to try again once the old sod is dead.”
“Don’t let Trystan hear you say that. He’d take your head for treason if he thought it’d earn him more lands,” Cregan said looking around the column to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation. Daris laughed in response, although he didn’t doubt the truth of the statement.

The next couple of days passed slowly. Trudging across the open landscape being battered by the winds was not an enjoyable experience. The only respite was the occasional patch of woodland or small village. The nights had at least been fun. With the men in high spirits, they shared lively conservation around the camp fires, laughing at jokes and stories.

Early in the morning of their third day, now to near the border, they were starting to pack up their camp when one of their scouts galloped into view. He drew to a sharp stop near Lord Trystan.
“Smoke to the West m’lord,” the scout said, a sense of urgency in his voice.
“That must be them. Mount up everyone!” Lord Trystan called as the rest of the camp was quickly packed away. They raced Westward and sure enough smoke soon came into view on the horizon. Daris’ heart started to beat quicker, the anticipation of a fight pumping him full of adrenaline.

As they neared the top of a small hill, Lord Trystan slowed them to a walk. Cresting the hill revealed the whole valley beneath them. A mill was alight, the source of the smoke. Around it, Daris counted about forty men on foot flying a purple banner too distant to make out, another ten or so lay dead.
“Lord Kargil must have posted men here. Although it looks like we’re too late for them now, may Inara watch over them,” Lord Trystan said, surveying the scene below. “Sound the horn and charge them,” he added, looking to his own squire, who put a large bone horn to his lips and blew, sounding a single long low note. The knights spurred their horses into action and thundered down the hill, leading the charge.

Daris raised his sword as they approached the raiders and the knights plowed into their ramshackle formation. Daris swung a felt his blade slice through a man. An attack came at him from his left, but he easily blocked the blow with his shield. As he lowered the shield ready to strike back, Cregan flew past on his horse, cutting the man down. Looking around Daris realised the skirmish was already almost over. The men at arms had been close behind the knights and their unmounted opponents had never even stood a chance.
“They’re routed! On me!” Ser Barynn boomed, raising his sword high above the melee. Daris had a quick look around and, seeing only a few men still engaged in battle, followed after Ser Barynn.

Eight of the men had escaped the charge only to turn and flee. However on foot they couldn’t hope to outrun the knights’ warhorses. Daris caught up with two of them quickly. He slashed at the first and seeing the man fall to the ground, he plunged his blade into the back of of the second. He heard a scream and turned to see Ser Barynn take a head in one clean blow.
“You’ve gotten better on horseback Ser Daris,” the large knight said, looking to Daris.
“We’ll have to joust again sometime,” Daris called back, trying to appear unphased by Barynn’s backhanded compliment.

He looked back to the mill to see the battle had ended as quickly as it had begun. A few men lay on the ground, screaming in pain, as Ser Gillis went from man to man ending their misery. Daris rode back to the mill and dismounted to survey the scene.
“I was expecting more of a fight than that,” Cregan said, walking up to him. “I got four, how many did you get?” He asked. Daris simply held up three fingers as he looked over the battlefield.
“They definitely weren’t trained soldiers,” Daris said, looking at the bodies of their poorly equipped opponents. “A lot of them were using farm tools as weapons,” he said, picking up a hoe to examine from the hands of corpse.
“A freshly raised levy maybe?” Cregan posited.
“Perhaps. But who sends a fresh untested levy on a raid with no commander?” Daris said, throwing the hoe to the ground.

Four of the men at arms had been killed, a small loss in what appeared to be a big victory. Daris was not the only one with questions though. The enemy’s purple banners had perplexed everyone with no one recognising them as those of any Lords in the area and the lack of an enemy commander was puzzling. Nevertheless morale was high as they left the mill, due to their early success. There was even talk of heading back to Holdfast as the raids would likely subside after the bloodbath at the mill. However Lord Trystan was determined to go above and beyond their mandate from the King. Border raids were common enough in many of the Tulrissian Kingdoms, even without a formal declaration of war. Often they were simply repaid in kind without dragging the rest of the two kingdoms into it.

So the expedition continued West, looking for any more signs of raiding parties. At high noon a village was sighted. The scouts reported it was flying the same purple banner as the raiders, so the party proceeded with caution. They were eyed suspiciously by the men working the fields surrounding the village as they approached. The streets seemed to clear and windows slammed shut as their procession crawled through the village, many of the men not letting their hand stray far from the hilts of their swords.

A small market square sat in the centre of the village. The knights and men at arms slowly filtered in, many dismounting and drawing their swords. On the other side of the square stood a crowd of men, armed similarly to the raiders they had encountered at the mill. After a few moments of tense silence, Lord Trystan stepped forward.

“Who is the Lord of this village, peasants?” He demanded. There was a pause before a man armed with a rusty sword took a step forward.
“We have no Lord here. All are equal under the eyes of Elys.” The mention of Elys sent a wave of hushed mutterings through the assembled Fatherlanders. Elys was the sole Goddess of the Imardanian religion, Imardin being a country to the North, past the Great Swamp.
“If you have no Lord then why do you fly a purple banner?” Lord Trystan asked in a commanding voice, silencing any of the whispers.
“It is the colour of the Goddess,” came the reply. Lord Trystan paused for a moment.
“Well as you have no Lord, I claim these lands for King Euric II of the Fatherlands, Protector of the Five, and Lord of Holdfast,” he proclaimed. The crowd of peasants seemed to grow more hostile as weapons were raised and mutterings began.
“Gods, is he trying to get us killed?” Ser Cregan asked Daris through his teeth as he drew his own sword.
“This village will submit to no Lord. The missionaries have opened our eyes and we will not have them closed easily,” the apparent leader of the peasants said.

Daris looked around the market, following Cregan’s lead and drawing his weapon. The crowd was growing and most of the exits were now cut off.

“You are heretics and I command you to lay down your weapons and return to your homes,” Lord Trystan said, seemingly still unshaken by the situation.
“No.”

The following silence seemed to last for hours. The only sound was the sound of birds in the distance above the fields, until the defiant peasant spoke again.
“Send work to the other villages. We have some unwelcome guests,” he said to the crowd, which seemed to draw in closer at his words.
“This is not good,” Daris said to Cregan, raising his sword and shield, scanning the crowd.
“No it is not,” Cregan responded. One of the men at arms, a man they had learnt over the last few days went by the name of Jorran, tried to mount his horse, but then the rocks started.

They pelted the expedition. Shields were taking the brunt of the attack but the occasional rock would get through and was capable of injuring the less well armoured of the group.
“Sers Gillis, Barynn, Daris, Ethan, Cregan; get us out of here,” Lord Trystan ordered, retreating to the relative safety of the shields, a worried look on his once proud face.

Ser Barynn was the first to strike out. His blade cleaving through the shoulder of a young man until it hit bone. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen Daris concluded. As the boy screamed with his dying breath, the mob surged forward. Daris felt blow after blow landing on his shield as they were pushed back from every direction, towards the centre of the market. Then their shield wall seemed to fail and the market became a whirlwind of blood and steel.

Poorly equipped peasants were no match for the highly trained knights, who were both better armed and armoured, however the sheer size of the mob worried Daris as he blocked and parried again and again. He thrust outwards with his shield, bashing back the tide of peasants. Following it up with a sweep of his blade, he bought himself a moment to look around. Ser Barynn and Ser Gillis were clearing a path behind them, although several of the men at arms were already dead.
“Follow Ser Barynn,” he shouted to Cregan who still stood next to him, cutting down peasant after peasant. A sickle suddenly smashed through Daris’ wooden shield, the vibrant red and yellow painted wood splintering everywhere. Daris turned and drove his sword through his assailant’s neck. He kicked the man to the ground and dropped the remains of his shield, gripping his bastard sword with both hands.

They were nearing the edge of the market but the mob was overwhelming them. Ser Ethan appeared to have lost both his sword and his helm, fighting dagger in hand with his head exposed. Daris could only watch as the young knight was surrounded by the mob. A rock to the head was all they needed as an opening and they were upon him. The young knight fought desperately for his life, taking several peasants down with him, but his body soon went limp, trampled as the peasants continued their advance towards the other knights.

Cregan had lost count of number of people he had killed by the time he felt the cobbles of the market give way to the dirt of the streets. His white surcoat now had a pinkish hue and the boar on his shield had long since been worn away. Realising they were out of the market, he turned to see the road was clear and most of their horses had escaped the square down this street. Alerting Daris, the two knights dispatched the peasants closest to them and made a break for it. Finding two horses wandering the street they swung up into the saddles and rode hard, wondering who else had managed to make it out. Cregan’s eyes lit up when he spotted the banner of House Presham flying further out into the fields and he began to steer towards it.
User avatar
Namelessjake
Plane Wings Sharp Like Katana
Posts: 3928
Registered for: 11 years 2 months
Location: Blockbuster

Re: The Swine and The Steed

Post by Namelessjake »

They found Ser Gillis and two of the King's men beneath the banner.
"It's good to see you," Set Gillis said, seeing their approach. He was sat leaning against a low dry stone wall sharpening and cleaning his blade. Blood was seeping through his armour turning it a deep shade of scarlet.
Daris said, "You're wounded," but the seasoned knight only nodded in reply. "I saw Ser Ethan cut down by the mob. Any sign of Ser Barynn or Lord Trystan?" Daris said, addressing all the survivors.
"Last I saw of Ser Barynn, he was smashing a man's head against the cobbles. If anyone else got out it'd be him," one of the men at arms replied.
Ser Gillis nodded, continuing to run a whetstone along his sword, "Aye. As for Lord Trystan I think we can assume he won't be joining us."

There was a moment of silence as the gravity of their losses sunk in. "Your squire fought well See Daris," Gillis said. "I saw him crush a man's windpipe with his shield," the knight continued.

Daris had forgotten about Rorin and was struck with a wave of sadness. He had only ever really tolerated the boy but he was still family, or had been.

Ser Gillis' voice snapped See Daris back to reality, "You four should ride to Holdfast. Our losses were great but for the peasants that was a massacre. I have no doubt they'll want revenge, and from the sounds of it that wasn't the only village in the area that's turned to the Imardanian heresy."
"And what of you?" Ser Cregan asked.
"I'll only slow you down. I'll be more use buying you some time here. I fear we may have stirred up quite the hornets' nest."

No one responded to Ser Gillis' preposition, they all knew what it meant.

Chapter 3

The two knights and two soldiers rode as fast as they could, two men to a horse. Four men returning after thirty two had ridden out of Holdfast just three days prior. It meant around twenty something widows and maybe twice as many fatherless children. A truth unspoken on their journey home.

They had found the village after three days of riding, but Daris reckoned they could make it back in a day and a half, maybe two. It would likely be at the expense of the horses, but it would give them a couple of days to prepare the defense of the city. The peasants would be on foot but they would no doubt being giving chase as fast as they could.

As night fell they contemplated making camp for the night, however Ser Cregan soon spotted fires a few miles away on the horizon, and the decision was made for them. They rode on through the night, more cautiously than before. If the horses failed them before they reached Holdfast, there was a very real chance the peasant revolt would catch them.

Daris' predictions had been right and they galloped up to the gates of the city the next day, with the setting sun painting the sky a vibrant orange. The gates were opened for them by a lone aged man. This worried Cregan.
"Where is everyone?" He asked.
"You haven't heard?" The guard asked in retort. "A spy was found in the King's court. From Peloth. The King took everyone he could find and marched on Peloth a couple of days ago."

The response he got from the four arrivals was a stunned silence.

"This complicates things somewhat," Daris said a moment later.
"Just a little bit," Cregan replied. "So now what?"
"Well for starters we need to send a rider to go tell King Euric to turn his arse around," Daris said before dismounting and turning to the soldier still on his horse. "You go, we can't afford to waste any time convincing whoever the King left in charge that there's a threat. Get a new horse from the stables by the South gate." The man nodded and galloped off into the city. "Now we need to go to the keep and do that convincing."

They left the horse and trudged through the streets towards the keep. They caught a few strange looks from passersby, battle weary knights were a rare sight anywhere but a battlefield. Daris couldn't help but notice everyone still left in the city was a woman, a child or too old to fight. The King had really taken everyone he could find.

The three men eventually reached the keep, entering through the same gate they had left through just days earlier. The courtyard was deserted and eerily quiet. The castle was even emptier than the city. They made for the throne room hoping to find whoever had been left in charge.

"Ah Sers! You've returned already. You're to restock and ride South to join the King's host as it marches on Peloth," Adran, the King's chief steward, said spotting them as they entered the throne room. He and two other stewards were pouring over a large ledger on a table close to the throne but Adran broke away and made his way down the steps to greet the knights.
"I'm afraid we can't do that," Daris began. "We encountered a village of Elysian Heretics who are headed this way as we speak. We are all that remains of our initial party."
Adran's face dropped at the news.
"How many men did King Euric leave behind?" Cregan asked.
"About twenty," Adran stammered, his face now white as a ghost.
"Then the women, children and elders left behind should be moved into the castle and the temple. Those are the most defendable locations in the city," Cregan advised. It was a good idea, if the peasant revolt decided to sack the city then it would be a massacre if the population was left undefended.
Daris nodded in agreement, "I'd put money on the peasants being unable to breach the castle gates. We should focus our defenses around the city gates and the temple."
"I'll see to it," Adran said. "We should send word to the King too."
"Already done," Cregan said.
"Good good, so how long do we have?"
"Two days maybe. Three at the most," Daris said turning to leave.
"That's all? Where are you going?" An exasperated Adran asked.
"To have a bath. Send for us when you spot them," Daris said indicating Cregan to follow.

They left the throne room leaving Adran to organise the city's defense.
"Fancy our chances?" Cregan asked as they entered the courtyard.
Daris said, "Not really. I intend to enjoy the next day or two."
"Good idea." Cregan's thoughts turned to Alia, wondering if she was still in the castle.
"With only a handful of men, there's no chance of us defending the city gates. We're likely the only knights left in Holdfast so we should prioritise the temple. That's were the most vulnerable people will be," Daris said.
"I didn't realise you took your vows so seriously," Cregan said, surprised. "You're normally quite the cynic."
"It must be the threat of imminent death," Daris laughed. "Our vows were sworn to the Five so I guess it'll make quite a fitting place to die."
"There's the cynicism."

After bidding goodbye to Cregan, Daris made his way through the empty corridors of the castle. He reached a small spiral staircase and descended into the bowels of the keep. Down beneath the castle lay the bathhouse. A large room filled with several large pools heated by a hot spring. There were no windows but candles flickered everywhere, highlighting the steam rising up from the baths against the rough-hewn stone brick walls. He stripped off his clothes, still covered in blood and dirt from the last few days. He climbed into the closest bath and let the water flow over him, submerging himself up to the neck. His aches and pains from the fighting and travelling were soothed by the warm water as he washed himself.

His once shoulder length brown hair was a tattered mess, caked with bits of days old mud and dried blood. He lowered himself further into the water, taking a deep breath before his mouth and nose slid below the waterline. There, completely submersed in water, in the depths of the castle, he hadn’t care in the world. He lay in the bath for another hour or two, relishing the feeling, before making his way back to his quarters and back to the seemingly insurmountable problem they faced.

The next morning, after a long awaited good night’s sleep, Daris returned to the throne room to find Adran, Cregan and several others pouring over maps of the city spread across a large table which had been brought into the room sometime since his last encounter with Adran. The maps were littered with small wooden carvings and little coloured flags.
“How is everyone this fine morning?” Asked Daris, announcing his presence to the room.
“Things are going well, we have people going door to door telling the women and children where to go when the alarm is sounded. We have scouts positioned around the five most likely approaches of the peasant army. And barricades are being built for the city gates and the temple,” Cregan replied, looking up from the maps.
“I thought we only had twenty of the King’s men left, can we afford to waste them going door to door?”
“We do, but we’re not. We’re drafting in the help of everyone willing. King Euric may have taken most of the able bodied men South with him, but there’s still young boys, old men, and women willing to help us in the defense.”
“It’ll be a bloodbath if we let them fight,” Daris replied, stepping up to the map table.
“Helping with the defense doesn’t necessarily mean fighting. What do you think all of this work is for?” Cregan said, gesturing at the map.

The rest of the morning passed quickly as the preparations were in full swing. However just after noon, a man bust into the throne room. He was one of the scouts that had been sent out to give them some warning of when they could expect the peasant army to arrive, and his eyes were filled with fear.

“There was hundreds of them,” he said, after catching his breath for a moment. He must have ridden back to Holdfast as fast as he could and sprinted through the castle to reach the throne room. “They’re directly West of here,” he added, now more composed. Cregan waved him up to the table. “I was waiting here on this hill, so I must have seen them when they were about here,” the Scout said, pointing out two places on a map of the countryside surrounding the city.
“That gives us about two hours then,” Cregan said, looking at the map. “Three at the most.”
“We should recall the other scouts. Every man is going to count,” Daris replied.
Adran then spoke up, “We should sound the alarm and start moving people to safety.”
Daris said, “No. Being stuck inside three hours before the fighting even starts will only panic people. We’ll sound the alarm when we sight the army from the parapets. Make sure everything else is ready, I’m going to go put my armour on.”

Daris’ armour was still covered with dried blood from the village, he hadn’t wanted to spend what was potentially his last night alive performing what was nothing more than a chore for a squire or page. However he started regretting not cleaning it as he began the arduous process of strapping it to himself. The smell was not pleasant, but then again in a couple of hours it wouldn’t really matter. As he fiddled with the leather straps he couldn’t help but miss his squire Rorin. Cleaning his armour and helping him get into it had been some of his cousin’s duties, except now he was dead. Likely buried in some mass grave, hastily dug by the peasants before they began their march on Holdfast.
The last buckled pulled tight and Daris was ready. He grabbed a new shield and his helmet and made his way back to the throne room.
“You took your time,” Cregan said, spotting his friend as he entered the room. Daris couldn’t help but notice the man was already in his own armour, his white surcoat still stained red in places.
“Unlike you I’m not used to putting it on myself,” Daris replied, surprisingly cheerfully. The way he saw it now, what was going to happen would happen and there wasn’t much they could do about it, so there wasn’t any reason to worry about it.
Post Reply