Master Killian walked into the Keep’s main hall with a bit of a spring in his step. He had expected to take several hours, if not days, to gather the information they would need. As he approached the dais, Prince Salistar was speaking with his uncle Prince Rupert and Lady Malderia.
Noticing Master Killian arriving, the Prince beckoned him forward.
“You look like the cat that caught the mouse, Master Killian,” said Prince Salistar.
“To be honest, I feel like that, my Lord, I’ve just been to the guild, and they had gathered a lot of information about the Demon Délíntra and some about Darseholt to boot as well,” replied Master Killian with a smile tapping the bag slung under his arm.
Both Prince Salistar and Mal’s faces lit up with smiles at the news. Could they finally find out where Darseholt is and how to get there? Everyone that the Prince had asked had no idea where Darseholt was. When Master Killian approached the table, they sat around and split the contents of the pouch across the tabletop.
Prince Salistar, Prince Rupert, Master Killian, and Jake Wintersong, the Black Guard chamberlain, spent the rest of the day sifting and reading through all of the documents while Mal proceeded to pace up and down. While she had only recently started learning to read and was able to read some copies, the old style of writing might as well have been blobs of ink for all she could tell. As it was, the reading was hardgoing for everyone except for Master Killian, who was the only person who had some experience with ancient scrolls and the arcane language that they used. Some of the documents were nearly one thousand years old or at least exact copies of ancient scrolls, which themselves might be copies of copies.
By the end of the night, they had read everything. The town of Kurik was mentioned often. It lay further to the east, just to the south of the mountain range, known as the spine that Mal and her friends grew up in. Plans were drawn up for the trip to Kurik, where they could gather new supplies. Saying their goodnights to Prince Rupert, they returned to the Blackguard camp to be ready for an early departure.
*
The early morning mist rolled off the three-moon lake and along the streets of Princetown. It seeped through the main gate of the Keep and over the damp cobblestones of the courtyard. Mal’s horse stamped a foot almost as if it felt the impatience of the rider that sat waiting on its back. The men were ready, and the only thing left was the hitching of the wagons, which was taking forever. Every time they tried to hitch the horse, it shied away.
Seeing the Prince’s displeasure, the head groom of the Keep ordered another horse to be supplied, which being slightly older, was more used to being hitched to a wagon.
“Sorry, Your Highness, sometimes a young horse isn’t suited to pulling wagons. I’ll run her through some training and see what type of horse she would be good for,” he said apologetically.
“My thanks,” he said; turning to Mal, he said loudly enough for all to hear, “Well, Watch Commander, the guard is ready to leave on your command.”
“Thank you, Battle Commander, Forward,” replied Mal at the same volume turning her horse and heading towards the main gate of the Keep. The light archers headed out first to make sure that no one was lying in wait to ambush their Commanders.
It would take two weeks of hard travel to arrive at Kurik; Mal had become accustomed to ordering everyone around during that time. As agreed with Prince Salistar, she was entirely in charge of all day-to-day decisions to do with the running of the troop. Prince Salistar found Mal to be a quick study and was becoming a solid leader. She was reading all the reports and only had to ask once in a while what certain words were.
Her natural grasp of numbers and calculations for the number of sacks of flour and beans sides of hams and barrels of ale being consumed versus projected amounts had already led to finding a member of the guard who was sneaking bottles of brandy.
Mal remembered that her father had once caught a man doing the same thing in their village and had made him run around the lodge for a day with only a few stops allowed. When she proclaimed the man's fate, the colour drained a little from his face
The guard in question had spent a day running around a wagon as they made their slow progress across the country to Kurik, his heavy breathing and groaning ensuring that none of the guards would think to break any of the rules.
As they drew closer to the town, the mountains started to appear first as a single pointy mountain followed several days later by the rest of the mountain range began to poke over the horizon; the one large mountain made the rest look like hills.
It was the type of mountain that would keep drawing your attention. By the time Kurik had come into view, the mountains were towering high to the north with one peak, which could only be called gigantic towering over them all.
Kurik was a prosperous merchant town standing at the southernmost point of the spine; most trade travelling overland to the eastern coast of Caplo passed through Kurik. As such several large trading merchant houses had buildings and warehouses located here. Extensive stone walls surrounded the main town, while warehouses and cattle and horse pens occupied large areas outside.
As the Black Guard approached, a mounted group of soldiers came from the town.
Seeing the unfamiliar herald marking on the shields of the mounted men, the three soldiers lined up across the road, determined to see who approached.
“Halt!” shouted the centre soldier when the group was close enough that his voice would carry the distance to them.
Raising a hand, Mal signalled to the troop that they were to halt as she carried on with Prince Salistar and Jake Wintersong on either side to meet the three soldiers. Stopping her horse six yards from the soldier’s Mal waited for them to speak.
Of the heavily armed individuals in front of him, the central soldier was most taken aback by the woman sitting in the horse dressed in black armour with a sword on her hip and a bow slung over her shoulder.
The knight to her left, his black armour gleamed in the afternoon sunshine. With silver thread weaved around the hilt, the bastard sword strapped to his back was as black as night. The other soldier to her right wore black leather armour and was armed with a short sword and shield.
Since the woman was closer and the others were flanking her, he spoke to her, “Excuse me, Mam, I have been sent to inquire who you are and your reasons for coming to Kurik.”
Taking a deep breath, Mal paused for a second while she still wasn’t comfortable with the title and authority that she had been given. She spoke with the full power of her office. “I am Lady Malderia Talon, Watch Commander of the Black Guard. A loyal subject of the King Warsung”
Gesturing to the left and then the right, she continued, “This is Prince Salistar Warsung, Prince of the realm and Battle Commander of the Black Guard, and this is Jake Wintersong Chamberlain of the Black Guard, and we are passing through once we resupply.”
“You forgot one of your official titles Ogre Slayer,” said Prince Salistar, smiling as he watched the effect of his words on the three soldiers sitting in front of him. He knew that the stories of Mal’s exploits would grow with the telling. He also wanted the stories to boost the reputation of the Black Guard as he would eventually need an army.
The soldier straightened slightly, his eyes narrowly wide as his two comrades' horses moved involuntarily closer to each other at the unspoken commands of their riders.
“Mam, Your Highness welcome to Kurik; I am Captain James Muldoon; let me escort you to Lord Marshal Gresson Deville without haste,” said the man looking from Mal to the Prince, trying to figure out the situation that he found himself in.
“Lead on,” ordered Mal waving for the troops to once again move forward.
Slowly the troop headed towards Kurik. Captain James sent the two men who had accompanied him to tell the city watch that everything was safe and inform Lord Marshal Gresson Deville that he would have company.
“Captain James, I was wondering if your town has a tavern called the Red Parrot?” asked Prince Salistar.
“We do, your highness; why do you ask?” replied Captain James.
“I would like you to take us there first; we have some possible business to conclude when we get there,” said Prince Salistar.
If Captain James was curious about the princes’ motives, he didn’t show it. It wouldn’t matter the moment they were in the range of the Red Parrot; the men would spring into action. They had drilled extensively every morning for the last seven days; every man of the troop knew precisely what was expected of them. No one would escape when they attacked the taverns that they now expected to be in every city of the country.
The streets of Kurik were more comprehensive than the cities and towns Mal had visited. Chamberlain Wintersong had explained that many cattle and animals were transported through this town, so it made sense to make the roads wide enough to get them through quickly.
As they approached a run-down-looking area of the town, Captain James Gestured to a tavern slightly down the road from them. Prince Salistar took command of the troop and signalled the men forward the heavy knights, and Calvary charged past the startled Captain. Knocking people out of the way as needed. While Mal’s archers surrounded her and the Captain of the Town Watch, the knights led by Prince Salistar dismounted and charged into the tavern.
Screams echoed inside the tavern; the twang of an arrow being loosened saw a single arrow go through an open window at the top of the building. When Mal shot a questioning glance at the man responsible for the shot.
Bowing slightly to Mal, he said, “Mam, I saw someone trying to open the window. It looks like they could make it from that window to the top of that building over there, and I didn’t want to have to try and find them in this rabbit warren.”
“For the love of Dekin, can someone tell me what is going on here?” Demanded the Captain of the town watch.
“Quite simple, Captain James, by order of the King, we are to root out a band of assassins that have tried to kill members of the royal family and myself. We have found them in the Red Parrot in several cities, and while not everyone in that building will be a member of the assassin group, some will be, and they will be eradicated. We are at war, and they choose the wrong side.” Replied Mal in a tone that held no emotion.
Prince Salistar looked around as he entered the tavern, “Hold in the name of the King, and you will not be harmed.”
A loud clang drew the Prince’s eyes to the tavern keeper who had dropped a pile of metal dishes. Grabbing the Tavern Keeper by the hair, the Prince practically dragged him over the counter. Throwing him to the ground, the tip of his long sword touched the man’s throat.
Seeing the man wasn’t going to make a move, Prince Salistar spoke to the man who entered at his right. “Was it a signal?”
“Yes, I believe so, my Lord,” replied the man.
Turning back, Prince Salistar poked the tip a little deeper so that he could feel the sharp bite of steel on his skin.
“There are two possibilities in your future; you die in both the question is how? You can be pulled apart by four horses, or I can kill you cleanly. Where are they and choose wisely?”
The man’s eyes shifted slightly towards the stairs, and Prince Salistar’s sword dug deep into his throat. His twenty men were storming into the building to either side of him. The Patrons were screaming as black gauntlets grabbed them, kicking and screaming from the tavern. To be thrown onto the ground in front of Mal and her archers.
Archers cut the clothes from the backs of the patrons; when a red neckerchief was spotted, they were executed on the spot.
Between the screams of the patrons outside and the sound of battle from above, Prince Salistar raced after his men; the two men designated to be the princes’ protectors followed their long swords drawn and ready to defend their Lord and Master.
Upstairs was carnage with men smashing through any door that wouldn’t open in the Kings’ name. The old wooden door was poorly made; a few good kicks were needed in most cases for the doors to explode inwards.
An arrow flew through a doorway as a Knight smashed his way through one of the doors. Storming into the room, the knights overwhelmed the occupants. Once they were subdued, they were taken out of the tavern with the rest of the prisoners. As they saw the shivering half-naked prisoners with a couple dead men between them, some started to cry and a couple, noticing who was killed, tried to flee. They didn’t make it to the bottom of the street before the archers used them for target practice. Arrows pierced the bodies of the fleeing prisoners, and they fell silent in the street.
“Ah, here comes your men now, Captain James. Maybe you should take control of them before they get hurt,” said Mal with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Shaken and slightly disturbed, Captain James moved his horse toward the group of his men, muttering a begrudging ‘Thank you, mam,’ as he left.
Once Prince Salistar had returned to Mal’s side. He bowed to her, “Watch Commander, I return command of the Black Guard to you.”
“Battle Commander, you stand relieved,” replied Mal formally.
“Watch Commander, I stand relieved,” responded Prince Salistar formally.
Mal thought back to their discussions on the road to Kurik that the formal and counter statements were going over the top. Still, Prince Salistar had demanded that formal statements were needed for the Black Guard to grow and exist after they were gone.
“While darkness exists, the Black Guard will stand before it as a beacon of light, now and in millennium to come,” were the words he had spoken with vigour and resonated inside herself, and she knew the truth. They both wanted the Black Guard to last forever with the coming war; one or both of them could die.
Since Jake Wintersong was Chamberlain to Mal’s Watch Commander, it was decided that if Mal was to fall, Jake would take her place in running the Black Watch. This had led to the discussion on who would be Battle Commander after Prince Salistar and Mal had been surprised when he had answered that he wanted Tomi to be his second in command.
When Mal had asked, “Why?”
Prince Salistar replied, “When we were on the island of Seldar, Tomi had come up with a plan to trick the assassins at the Red Parrot. His plan had been both simple and ingenious. It is the single most important skill of a Battle Commander being able to think.”
When they had formally promoted Tomi to the position of Right hand of the Battle Commander and pinned a golden pin on the shoulder of a grinning Tomi. All of the men had cheered as Tomi was well-liked by all of the men, another good skill to have Mal thought.
Mal beckoned the Captain of the town watch “Captain James, Please take the prisoners into custody, a member of the Black Watch will be along to interrogate them shortly also have some men take and bury the dead.”
“Yes, mam,” said Captain James; his tone spoke volumes that he was not happy with the activities that happened here today. “What charge should they be held under?”
“The charge is treason against the realm,” said Mal, her deadly voice cold.
One of the prisoners fainted hearing Mal’s words while the others started to cry and protest their innocence. Captain James's face paled because the punishment for treason was death. He knew some of these people were innocent people, he was sure of it, but he also looked at the bodies of the dead and would have sworn that at least two of them were ordinary citizens with no malice in their hearts.
Bowing, he turned, giving orders to his men to take the prisoners to the watch house jail and to the rest of his men to take the bodies of the dead to the local cemetery to be buried.
As his men gathered the prisoners together, Captain James watched as the Blackguard cut the clothing off the slain and piled the clothes together while others continued to bring the dead out of the tavern.
Suddenly, an exciting shout from inside the tavern; Mal and Prince Salistar left the Captain alone on the street. He hadn’t been invited to enter the tavern, and the two guards on the door had watched him with impassive eyes that spoke volumes.
One of the men had noticed that the rooms upstairs didn’t match the size of the rooms below. After that, it didn’t take long to get into the room; they simply went through the walls. Inside they had found many scrolls and other documents.
“Tomi and Jake, take this place apart and find out what else you can find; keep ten members of the guard to keep the building secure while you search, then take everything back to camp. We will go and see Lord Marshal Gresson Deville and extend our apologies for not informing him of our mission; send us a messenger when you get back to camp,” ordered Mal.
Leaving the tavern, they mounted up, followed by four Black Guard Knights, four Black Guard Calvary, and four Black Guard Archers was an honour guard.
Arriving at the Keep’s main gate, it was clear that news of what had transpired in the town had reached the Keep. Every soldier in the Keep was armed for battle. However, when they noticed that only fourteen members of the troop had come to the Keep and news that the majority of the Black Guard was setting up camp outside of the town walls had reduced the tension in the air.
Lord Marshal Gresson Deville stood at the gate; the look on his face was one of outrage; his eyes fell on Mal and as he opened his mouth to tear a strip of her for the outrage.
“Uncle Gresson,” piped up Prince Salistar stopping the Lord Marshall in his tracks as he was preparing to launch into a tirade.
Looking past Mal and noticing his nephew for the first time, he said in a demanding voice that had lost some of the fierceness that he was about to level at Mal, “Sal? What the hell is going on, and why did you launch an attack in my town without my leave?”
“Sorry, uncle orders of the King, The Blackguard have been charged with rooting out evil and protecting the people; the operation today rooted out eight members of an assassin's guild. We won’t get them all, but we hope to decimate the rest and drive them into extinction.
“What guild did you say?” demanded the Lord Marshall.
“Assassins uncle, sorry we couldn’t be sure that they don’t have an informant, and we needed to catch them before they had a chance to flee,” replied Prince Salistar.
“You caught eight of them, you say, nephew?”
“Yes, uncle, but we aren’t sure if we got them all or not,” replied Prince Salistar.
“Did she really eat their hearts? She looks too pretty to be into eating hearts,” said Lord Marshall Gresson Deville with a deadly serious look on his face.
Seeing the shock on her face, he laughed, “Sorry, but the guard that brought me news of your pending arrival was mostly babbling. The Ogre Slayer is coming over and over again. I’m afraid your reputation is spreading like wildfire among the peoples of the nation.”
Turning to his men, he waved them to stand down. When he saw that they were relaxing, he turned back to his nephew and Mal. “Well, come along, then we can talk over a glass of wine and some lunch.” And he walked off, expecting them to follow.
The Keep here was small though the walls were well maintained. It was bustling with people going back and forth. They stared at Mal and Prince Salistar as they walked past. Although the looks weren’t hostile, there was an underlying level of wariness when they looked at her, almost like a deer looking at a wolf and hoping that it didn’t notice them.
Realising that she was wearing armour, a sword and she was flanked by men at arms. Almost laughing at the absurdity of it, all these women were timid lambs, and it irked her that she was expected to be as fearful as they were rather than being an independent woman who didn’t need a man’s permission. She doubted if any of them had ever spent a nite hunting by themselves. They would probably piss themselves out of fear as soon as it got dark.
A cough from Prince Salistar brought Mal back to her senses. The people now looked like deer, realising that a wolf stood in their midst and that the wolf knew where they all were.
“Mal is something wrong you look like you are about to go berserk?” whispered Prince Salistar with a worried look on his face.
“Sorry, I found something about these people both amusing and annoying at the same time,” whispered Mal in reply.
“Remember that these are our people that we have sworn to protect, don’t go scaring them away when we need them so much,” replied Prince Salistar.
“Yes, Sal, sorry,” whispered Mal.
They followed the Lord Marshal deeper into the Keep when they reached the foot of the stairs that would lead to the first floor and the private quarters of the Lord Marshal. Mal signalled for their honour guard to take a seat on one of the tables by the stairs as she and Prince Salistar followed him up the stairs.
When they entered the room, Mal noticed that the room had drinks and food already set out. Seeing the page that stood behind the Lord Marshals seat, he sat down and gestured to two chairs opposite him. Mal realised that the page had been standing behind the Lord Marshal when he met them on the steps. The lad must have run through back passages to get here before them. There wasn’t enough time to have set up the room, which meant the Lord Marshal had prepared to greet them here. What puzzled Mal was why the Lord Marshal had gone through the pretence of the confrontation on the steps.
Mal was glad that there was Kuffa available rather than wine. While she liked the wines well enough, she preferred the bitter taste of the Kuffa; it warmed her after sitting on a horse for hours it was most welcome.
Before Prince Salistar could start speaking, Mal, who had been preparing herself for this moment, spoke up.
“Lord Marshal Deville, I feel that I should offer my apologies to you as well the Battle Commander’s over the execution of the military operation on the streets of your city without informing you. Usually, we would, of course, have told you and got your full consent before launching a military offensive, “
Seeing that the Lord Marshal was waiting for her, she continued, “Unfortunately, we couldn’t tell if the assassins are aware that we have destroyed several of their bases of operations or not. If they were aware, then we would not have found any in the city, but we might catch them in the act of fleeing. So you see, we did have our reasons for not informing you first and striking the metal when it’s hot, so to speak.”
Mal took a sip of her Kuffa while she studied the Lord Marshal. It seemed like an eternity before he spoke though only a few moments had passed. Mal’s heart had been pounding hard in her chest, and the Lord Marshals face was hard to read.
Looking directly at Mal and not at his nephew, he spoke with a voice tinted with anger. “Lady Malderia, your actions speak of no understanding of military or social niceties. You simply cannot do these things.”
“Uncle, as Battle Commander is was my decision to launch the attack without informing you of the disagreement of the Watch Commander, too many attempts have been made on our family,” interrupted Prince Salistar.
“YOU THINK I DON’T SEE YOUR FINGERPRINTS ALL OVER THIS!” he roared at Prince Salistar, taking a deep breath to regain some of his calm before continuing again. “Your impatience was always your biggest weakness,” he scolded Prince Salistar.
“Lady Malderia, as Watch Commander, you are responsible for every member of the Black Watch’s actions, including your Battle Commander’s. This is not a game, and you need to learn that before you or he loses a lot of people.”
“Yes, Lord Marshal Deville,” responded Mal, her head lowered slightly in embarrassment.
Taking a sip of this wine, he studied Mal before continuing, “So you two, What actually brought you to my city and don’t tell me it was to root out a band of assassins. I’ve been reading the dispatches from your father.”
Mal ate some fruit and sweet treats while Prince Salistar told his uncle about the attack on Mal’s people, the subsequent attacks on the royal family, and everything they now knew.
“Darseholt? I haven’t heard that place mentioned in many years,” said the Lord Marshal.
Sitting up quickly, Mal asked, “You know where Darseholt is?”
“Well, I know the general direction you need to go; it is about a week of travel north into the mountains. One or two merchants still travel that way to trade with the dwarves, but the dwarves aren’t interested in most of our items, so there isn’t much trade. I’ll have someone see if any of them are in the city at the minute,” responded Lord Marshal Deville.
“Lord Marshal Deville, I thank you from the bottom of my heart this is good news,” said Mal
“I remember now, Many years ago, on a trip to the Capital, my father told me a story about the doors of the Palace in Caplo. You know the ones with the relief carved into them?”
Seeing a blank look on his nephew’s face, he continued, “It’s the depiction of a war fought with the Dwarves,” still seeing no acknowledgement from his nephew. “My father said that it holds some knowledge, but I’ve never made any sense of it. I honestly think that my father told me that story so that I would sit and stare at the doors and leave him in peace. As a boy, I used to sit and stare at the doors when we visited the Capital trying to figure it out.” Said the Lord Marshal with a look on his face of someone remembering a fond day lost in the past.
“Do you think it’s true could a message have been hidden in plain sight all these years,” Mal asked Prince Salistar.
“I don’t know. I know the doors in Caplo you’re talking about, uncle, but I can’t remember the details,” said Prince Salistar slamming his fist down on the arm of the chair in disgust. “Now we will have to turn around and head the whole way back to Caplo to see them dam it!”
“I don’t think you need to go that far, nephew,” said the Lord Marshal with a broad grin on his face, “I think about six or seven steps should be enough.”
Seeing no understanding from his nephew, he almost laughed out loud. Seeing Mal turning to look at the door, he was impressed the girl didn’t lose her head quickly, and as she started to stand to go and look at the entrance to the same room they were in, he said while gesturing to the doors Mal was heading towards. “Like I said, I loved looking at the detail of the doors every time I visited that I had a master carpenter copy the doors as much as possible. The doors in Caplo are much taller than these doors, so he could only copy the bottom half to make these. So I had the top half-carved into the doors of a wardrobe in my rooms.”
Getting up, Prince Salistar embraced his uncle in a bear hug. “Uncle, you might have saved us many days of travel, my thanks,”
Walking over to Mal, who was busy studying the depiction on the doors. They spent several hours exploring the doors, trying to make out the most delicate details. The Master Carpenter that had made these doors had done excellent work. Mal just hoped that it was an honest depiction and not just something he made up. When she had voiced her worry, Lord Marshall Deville spoke up, “I told him that I would pay for the detail and that I knew the doors very well. As far as I can tell, these are identical to the depictions on the doors in Caplo.”
It was starting to get late, and they were still no further along in deciphering the depictions than they were that afternoon.
“We need to go back to camp and see what they have found out from the documents they retrieved from the Assassins secret room,” said Mal, “Lord Marshal Deville if we may come back in the morning to study it; more?”
“Of course, Lady Malderia,” he replied, “Until the morning then.”
Mal and Prince Salistar made their goodbyes and left Lord Marshal Deville for the evening. Mal was glad to see that the twelve men that had accompanied them were sober and well behaved.
“We will head back to the camp now,” she ordered.
“Yes, mam,” was the crisp reply she received; each man stood and picked up their belongings and followed Mal and Prince Salistar out of the Keep. A page had run ahead to tell the grooms that the horses were needed when they reached the steps; grooms were already bringing the horses out.
They reached the gate as the guards were about to close it for the night, but seeing the group heading towards them, they held them open for the party to pass.
The Black Watch had set up camp a mile from the town. As they approached, a sentry came to attention and saluted. Mal was pleased to see that everything was orderly and evening chores were underway when they entered the camp. When they dismounted outside of the command tent, the Watch Chamberlain came out to meet them.
“How did the meeting with the Lord Marshal go, my Lords?” he asked.
“Better than we could have hoped for, the Lord Marshal has a map to Darseholt, if we can decipher it. Did you find anything in the papers you found today?” responded Mal.
“Not much, Mam, though they do know we have figured out how to find them. We found orders to the chapter houses to abandon everything and head back to the guild, where I’m sorry to say I don’t know. I doubt if we will catch them by surprise again.”
“If they had been ordered to abandon this place, how come we found them?” asked Prince Salistar.
“I think they were in the process of abandoning the building; there were travel bags full of scrolls, and we found evidence of them burning some scrolls in the fireplaces of the inn. I think this was one of the central places for information due to Kurik being a major route of travel from the east of the country to the west; most trade travels through here, and most of the large merchant houses have premises here as well.”
“I see, well tomorrow; we will have another go at the map and then head north into the mountains to see if we can find the dwarves,” replied Prince Salistar.
James picked up a large scroll and brought it over to Mal’s desk. When he unrolled it, they could see a Map of the country with fine detailing on it.
“North you say, my Lord, there is only one road north from here this one,” he said, poking the map with his finger.
“If we head north, we will get into the mountains quite quickly. A few small villages serve the mountain folk and trappers, so we will need to take enough previsions to go into the mountains and return. Say two weeks, Mam?” he said to Mal.
“Better add a few more days to that calculation; it takes more effort and time to climb up than come down, so the men will be hungry if the roads are bad, although we will be able to hunt for some fresh meat, probably elk or deer when we get higher into the mountains,” she responded as she studied the map before her memorising as much of the terrain as possible.
“It will be cold as we get higher into the mountains, so winter clothing will be needed even though it is late summer here at the minute,” she continued, still studying the map, there was something just at the edge of her mind-tickling her thoughts something that wanted to be known. Try as hard as she wanted, she couldn’t grasp it.
*
Mal stood on a paved road under the silver glow of the two moons of Primoria. Its silver light cast a ghostly light over the land, the mountain that towered over everything its peak pierced the clouds far above. The sliver grey road at her feet led directly towards the mountain. Everything faded to mist as she looked left and right; only the road and the mountain stayed in focus.
Suddenly the knowledge that she was being hunted flowered in her mind. Looking around, she could see nothing to be scared of, but the fear was real, and she knew that she couldn’t stay here or she would be caught. As she started to walk down the road towards the mountain, the miles flew past other mountains appeared, but she knew she must stay on the road and not deviate least the hunters find her.
After hours of walking, she was no closer to the mountain, but a fork in the road appeared, not knowing which path to take but knowing that the wrong direction led to certain death.
Mal bent one knee and said a client prayer to the gods of her people. When she stood and looked at the mountain, she could see that the clouds had cleared, and she could now see the peak; a fire high on the left side of the mountain blazed forth, and as she watched, the clouds once again closed in around the mountain hiding the peak and fire from view.
Smiling and thanking her gods, she stepped to the left and the world blurred.
Sitting up in bed, the sweat was dripping off Mal’s back. “Thanks to the gods,” she said and stood grabbing the clothes she had taken off; she dressed quickly, absently throwing on her rings and bracers; leaving the room, she grabbed the sword and belted it to her hip.
Stepping out into the night air, the same silverly moon cast its silver light over the tents. Realising that several dark shapes were making their way through the camp. Mal shouted, “WAKE THE CAMP INTRUDERS! TO ARMS!!”
Engaging the first intruder, the speed of Mal’s sword took him by surprise as the tip of her sword parried the knife in his hand and pierced his heart.
Shouts of “TO ARMS!!” echoed across the camp, and soldiers rolled out of their tents, some half-naked holding swords and bucklers. They had practised this too, with the men having a nightly rota so that in the event of a sneak attack, half the men would rush out while others took slightly longer to don some armour before rushing out to relieve their comrades so that they could then retreat to throw on some armour.
Mal danced and wove her way through the intruders, her sword dancing the light of the sliver moon glinting. Her men came running to her cutting down all the assailant’s as they tried to kill her. Mal ducked a vicious slash by one of the intruders, and her sword opened his belly as is dug deep and drank his blood.
Looking around, Mal noticed that all the assailants around her were dead. Everyone in camp was awake, looking around; she realised that Prince Salistar wasn’t there. Screaming his name, her powerful legs sped her across through the tents. She didn’t detour; instead threw herself towards the side of the tent, slashing her sword through the material, and sailed through the opening. The inside of the tent was carnage; two dead assailants lay at the Princes feet while he battled a third. Mal entrance surprised the assailant, and Prince Salistar’s sword took that moment’s hesitation to cut him in two.
Mal spun, looking for any other assailants in the tent. Seeing none, she looked at Prince Salistar blood covered him from head to toe. As men started to pour into the tent, Mal watched as if not fully understanding what was happening. She watched as he slowly started to topple, realising that some of the blood was actually his. Screaming ‘No!!!’ she dropped her sword and grabbed him before he hit the ground.
Lowering him to his cot, instead of holding his head in her hands and looking into those beautiful eyes, she sobbed, “Sal, please don’t die on me,” she felt hands pulling her away from the Prince even though she tried to fight it. When she realised that it was so that the surgeon, Master, could get to him, she stopped fighting.
“Take the Commander to her tent and check she hasn’t been hurt and post guards around both of these tents,” he snapped while an ordinary member of the guard. As one of the surgeons of the Blackguard, his authority in this was paramount. No one would go against him. Looking at the three dead corpses in the tent. “and get rid of these …” he waved at the corpse.
Mal was led to her tent by two guards; Jake Wintersong came in, poured Mal a dram of Kuhool and handed it to her. “Here, Mam, this will help; early reports are that we have five dead and twelve wounded. The five that died were on watch. There were fifteen assassins Mam all died in the attack we are checking the perimeter as we speak.”
Knocking the Kuhool back quickly, the liquid burnt on the way down, and a warm feeling spread through her body. Taking a deep breath, she stood and looked for the first time at the blood covering her. Looking at most of the men around her were also covered in blood. “Forgive me, Chamberlain Wintersong, for blubbering like a girl, I’m not the commander the Black Guard should have. I don’t know why the King put me in charge of such a group you should be led by a warrior.”
As Chamberlain Wintersong was about to insist that Mal was doing well for one thrust into the position. One of the guards that had come into the room with Mal, a man of thirty-five summers and battle harden with many years of fighting for the King, called Barthel laughed loudly.
Seeing Mal’s eyes turn to him, “Lady Malderia Talon of Grey Stones, I joined the Black watch to protect my Prince as we were told how important you both are to the future of our peoples. I pledged my sword to my Prince and to you as well come what may. I have watched you take your place leading us, and I was proud to be a member of the Blackguard as I could see the commander you would become. Tonight I watched you rush into combat single handily against overwhelming odds to defend the members of the Guard under your protection. “
Drawing his sword, he pierced the rug and let go; the force left the blade quivering from the impact. Dropping to one knee in front of Mal. “I am your right arm; I am your left. I go where you lead,” he stated. Mal’s face was one of shock as behind Barthel members of the guard stood each member drew their swords and thrust them into the ground the sound of men repeating the oath reverberated around the tent.
Mal stepped over to Barthel, offering her hand to him; she helped him up. “Rise brother” walking out to men, she helped everyone stand repeating “Rise Brother” as she both received and gave an oath. The only men that hadn’t knelt were on watch around the tent of Prince Salistar. One by one, men replaced them, Allowing them to make their way to stand before her; each one drew their sword and thrust it into the ground. When she had helped the last man to stand, she looked around to see Prince Salistar standing, leading heavily on the surgeon’s shoulder.
As they walked towards Mal, the Prince limped slightly and leaned heavily on the surgeon. As he stepped in front of Mal, A sword was passed to each of them. Thrusting the blades into the ground, Prince Salistar winced as he knelt beside the surgeon; his voice, strong and mighty, sent shivers down Mal’s spine as they repeated the oath. “I am your right arm; I am your left. I go where you lead,” Turning to the surgeon first, she helped him rise.
When her fingers touched Prince Salistar’s to help him up, her mind seemed to explode golden lines webbed from every member of the guard to her and Prince Salistar. The cables pulsed in time to her heart as if they were feeding her life. When Prince Salistar stumbled getting up, she snapped back to reality; her arms steadied him and raised him up.
Her body felt like she had been drinking Kuhool all afternoon; seeing Sal’s face not more than a few inches in front of her was more than she could bear. His eyes shone with both confidence and honour before she knew it; her lips touched him ever so gently. His strong arms pulled her into a full embrace as he kissed her passionately, finally giving in to the feelings he had been trying to conceal.
Again, golden pulsing energy lines exploded around her, except this time, the line between her and the Prince was a thick as a rope. The chants of “Grey Stones!” and “Warsung!” repeated over and over again brought them both back to reality. Slapping his face, “I thought you had died,” she snapped before rubbing the red skin of his cheek, “Sorry,” she murmured.