Chapter 6 - Near the Keep

Edwin jumped up. Awakened. An explosion of barking bursting from the shack. In the twilight of the morning, he saw rotund shadows bouncing around in Froggy’s gardens.

“Emiko!” he yelled. “Bullywuggers!” She was already up before the words left his mouth.

She dashed toward the garden. Striking like lightning, she twisted between the toad-men like the wind. A javelin stabbed at her. She snapped it. Her palm struck and crushed the face of the bullywugger. The three toad-men fell dead around her, red, green, violet, and yellow puffs like smoke rising from them.

She caught her breath and looked around for her next victims. The last of the bullywuggers croaked and leapt off.

“Get away from them, Emiko!”

“Hm?” She turned and looked back at Edwin, then she looked down at the three toad-men she had just defeated. The toad-men’s bodies swelled and swelled and burst. A viscous, green goop splattered all over her. As it dripped down her body, Butcher came over and started licking it off her arm.

“Eeeh! I am all icky!” she screamed.

“Bahaha! Don’t worry. It’s at least good for you. Think of it like a sigh of relief from nature that rejuvenates your skin and gives you a youthful glow... You see, bullywuggers are such an abomination that—”

“Shut up and help clean this snot off me, Edwin!”

“No! No! You gotta let it sit for at least a quarter-hour.”

“What?! A quarter-hour?”

“Yeah. It’s already all over you. You might as well just soak it in. It’ll reverse some of the sun damage you’ve gotten from being out here.”

“Sun damage! I do not have sun damage, thank you. I am very careful with my parasol.”

“Mawnin’. Y’all git dat cleaned up y’all put dat in dat dere gawden dere.” Froggy went over to what was left of the bullywuggers. He picked up a leg and cut off its foot, putting it in a bag.

“Sure thing, Froggy,” said Edwin. He turned to Emiko and said, “It’s also good for the garden,” then he turned back to Froggy and asked, “Are you heading out with us?”

“Where’s y’all headed?”

“The Marquis’s Keep.”

“Yeeeah, I be headin’ on up in dere. I buy y’all a drank when we git dere.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you,” said Edwin. I could really use a beer, Froggy. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Emiko.”

After only a couple of hours of walking, the party made their way out of the reeds and into the dry plains. They could see the Marquis’s keep in the distance, a small fortress, a beacon of civilization set upon a mesa.

“Is that it?” asked Emiko.

“Sure is. We’re almost there!”

It is so brutal and lonely thought Emiko. It is like it was made for war, but it has no comrades to fight alongside it. Shame.

I can’t wait thought Edwin. That’s when the real adventures begin.

“Should not there be a village sitting around it?” asked Emiko.

“It’s too dangerous to bring in villagers right now. The land’s not settled enough for a village yet. That’s why they need freelancers like us to come here. So, for the time being, it’s an outpost far beyond the edges of civilization.”

“Why would you come here, Edwin? I have not asked you that,” said Emiko.

“ Well, scholars often write about hard things like fighting, exploring, and dungeoneering. The problem is most of the time you can tell they have no idea what they're talking about. You can tell that they’ve never thrown a spell in a fight, wandered through a forest, or spent the night in a cold, dark cave. I don't want to be one of those scholars. I want to be the kind of scholar that knows what he's talking about, the kind of scholar who has really put what he knows to the test.”

“ That is admirable,” said Emiko. “Much like us Yaseikese.”

Hell yeah, Edwin! You’re scoring points. “What do you mean? I honestly don't know much about Yaseiko.”

“In Yaseiko, everyone learns to fight. Some spend more time learning than others, but everyone knows how to throw a palm strike.”

“ Ah, I see,” Edwin. “ Your culture has a deep respect for the martial arts. With everyone learning what it means to fight, everyone will be a little slower to turn to violence.”

“No. We learn to fight so we can fight for our lives.”

That made Edwin pause. “It's because the land is sad” he remembered her saying. She must be tougher than she looks. He took a deep breath and looked up to the blue sky. Huh. A land so violent that everyone needs to know how to fight just to survive. I think that’s a place I’d like to visit. Maybe not live there, but it could be an edifying trip. I wonder… “Why’s it so dangerous, Emiko?” asked Edwin after catching up to her.

“In Yaseiko, there are fourteen houses ruled by fourteen different lords. They all want each other dead.”

“That doesn’t sound much different from Westhalion, except we have more lords than anyone can count.”

“Our lords are far more powerful. They each command personal armies. Sometimes, the soldiers do as they want to us farmers. So, we farmers learned to do as we want to them. Have you ever killed a man, Edwin?”

“No. Have you?”

Emiko giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. “A gentleman should never ask a lady such a question. Shame, shame, Edwin!” she said, smiling with her eyes.

Well, I guess they don’t call it the Land of Wild Steel for nothing thought Edwin. “I think the only things we’ll have to fight around here are aeons, and fighting aeons will make us stronger. If we get strong enough, we might even be able to establish a guild.”

“A guild? Will that make lots of money?” asked Emiko.

“Depends on what you mean by a lot, but in a place like this, we could make tons of money. You’ll see how they work when we get to the keep. Is that why you left Yaseiko? To make lots of money?”

“Something like that,” answered Emiko almost with a sigh as she looked down at the ground.

“Well then, if we stick together, we could make a small fortune. What do you say?”

“Okay, friend! We will certainly work together!”

She called me her friend… I don’t feel like that’s a win.

So, the party marched onward, closer to Cevola Keep, closer to their fate.

⬲---⍆⥢=========-

Two elf-men were riding palfreys down a dirt road through a verdant forest.

“Boy, this takes you back, doesn’t it?” asked Rayn Redstride.

“I suppose so. Did you really have to bring that getup back out though?” asked Leofric of Wilowstow.

“This? This is new. It just looks like the old gear.” Rayn wore a leather headband across his forehead. The headband held his long, red locks in place, covering his pointed ears. A thick and neatly trimmed red beard covered his strong jaw, a common look for the men of Westhalion.

A sleeveless, lamellar shirt left his sinewy arms bare. They looked more athletic than muscular. Leather gauntlets reinforced with steel covered his forearms but left the tips of his fingers free for “solving the problems presented by locks” as he put it.

Black, armoured briefs hugged his nether region, leaving his legs as bare as his arms down to his knees where his leather boots began. A cloak, black on the outside but red within, hung from his shoulders, completing the costume.

Leofric looked plain next to Rayn. He wore a grey cloak and a pale blue tunic. Wine coloured trousers covered his legs and the tall boots of a warrior reached up around his calves.

His leather belt was plain, and it carried a plain knife next to the clean and gleaming hilt of an arming sword.

He carried his shield across his back. His shield had been painted with the same colours he wore, the same colours of his family: four quarters, two painted grey and two painted pale blue, and a wine-coloured rood.

His face had been clean-shaven before they started their journey, except for his thick, gallant moustache and tuft under his bottom lip. Now, he had several days worth of whiskers on his lean jaw to add to that. His brown hair was only long enough to reach around his neck; keeping it shorter made it easier to don and doff his mail coif when he wore it. Cool blue eyes stared out from underneath a calm, almost lazy brow. Leofric of Sallowstow had a face like tempered steel in winter.

The two elf-men rode on palfreys. They’d just left Durthurn hamlet that morning to return to Cevola after five short years of retirement.

“The suit’s lucky,” said Rayn with a serious tone of finality. “It was lucky when I was a bar fighter, it was lucky on our first adventures all those years ago, and it will be lucky now.”

“It wasn’t lucky when you lost all your money gambling.”

“Investing. I was investing not gambling, and actually, I wasn’t wearing the suit, but I bet the venture would have succeeded if I had been.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to build a brothel and gambling den next to a cathedral. I call law-breaking a gamble, not an investment.”

“It wasn’t a brothel. It was a hostess club for sportsmen. What the girls did with the guests was between them. Who am I to tell a woman what she can and can’t do? A bishop? I’m a man of the people, not the cloth.”

“Still, you built it next to a cathedral! Have you no reverence? Have you no decency, Rayn?” asked Leofric, frustration straining his previously jestful voice. It doesn’t bother me that he tried to do it as much as it bothers me that he doesn’t see anything wrong with it.

“You’ve known me long enough, Loff; you can answer those questions for yourself,” said Rayn with a chuckle and a wry smile.

Always so cavalier thought Leofric. You’re a man with your own sense of honour. Too bad there’s no society for you. You probably prefer it that way. You were born for a freelancer’s life. Best not to take him too seriously.

“Besides, building next to a cathedral was the genius of it! You go and romp around for a bit, have a few drinks with some fetching lasses, then head right next door for confession just in case you looked at some maid’s bosom the wrong way. I still think it’s a great idea. I can’t fathom anyone being against it.”

“Yes, I can see it now,” said Leofric with a sardonic chuckle. “Scores of men drunkenly lined up outside the cathedral at two in the morning, waiting for a priest to come and tell them to go home.”

“Now you’re getting it!” said Rayn, snapping his fingers. “But, how was I supposed to know we were breaking decency laws? Those things are so convoluted. You’ve got to be a scholar just to read them. I’m not that kind of guy, Loff. I’m not a hoity toity. I’m a champion of the people. A man’s man. I don’t have time to read laws. I’m too busy giving the people what they want: strong ale, good sport, and vivacious women.”

“Vivacious. What a word for a man who decries scholarship,” said Leofric with a hint of admiration. “Perhaps you’re more the scholar than you think, Rayn.”

“This is gonna be a blast though,” continued Rayn. He honestly hadn’t heard Leofric; he’d become lost in his own excitement. “I’ve honestly missed the old days. What about you?”

“I can’t say quite the same,” said Leofric as he stroked the rough shadow of whiskers on his face, wanting a shave. “We seem to remember things differently. I remember flame-flingers chucking fire flasks at us and burning Cadsil alive.”

“Cadsil? Who was that?”

“The fellow who was pretty good with a bow. An ashweald elf. He thought he’d be safe loosing shots from behind the party. I don’t know why he thought that’d work in a cave. Ended up getting nailed from behind while we were in the flame-flinger warrens. I don’t think he shot a single arrow.”

“Ah. Yeah. That’s when we were just starting out. You still couldn’t even lay on hands yet. Did we bring any godbotherers with us?”

“Acolytes? No.”

“So, you were our only man of faith then.”

“Yes.”

“Who the Hell goes marching without any godbotherers? That’s like drinking with a married woman; it only leaves good men and scoundrels dead.”

“He won’t pray to God, yet he won’t leave home without someone who does,” said Leofric, being sardonic once again.

“Me and Pops have an understanding,” said Rayn.

“So long as you understand that if you aren’t repenting you’re creating Hell.”

“I remember,” said Rayn, trying to change the subject. “I’m starting to, at least.” Rayn paused, looking up as if to think.

“That was eight or nine years ago now.”

“Yeah, one of our first expeditions. We were led out by a couple of butchers. You didn’t even know how to lay on hands. I barely knew how to spot traps. What were there; fifteen or twenty of us on a march in those days? And most of us didn’t know each other.”

Rayn took a deep breath. His voice lowered. His whole body became relaxed.

“We were just a bunch of rookies marching off to the promise of coin. What kind of men lead others around like that, taking them straight off to their deaths? Out here they call them butchers; back West we call them lords.”

“I happen to be a lord, Rayn,” said Leofric with a straight face

“Oh yeah.”

“I’ve never marched anyone off anywhere.”

“Well… there’re always exceptions.”

“If I hadn’t known you my entire life, I’d have to consider that a slight against the honour of my family. I’d have to kill you. All I’m saying is, even out here, you ought to be careful about what you say.”

“You know… I guess you’re right. I’m still bitter about losing my hostess club.”

“You should have bought some land like I did.”

“You didn’t buy land. You bought the right to lick boots and were given the land as a pittance.”

“Again, Rayn, you’ll get yourself killed talking like that.”

“Have you forgotten where you come from, Leofric? You side so easily against labourers and merchants. You always swore you’d fight for us, yet as soon as you found your coin you sided with lords and priests.”

“I side with justice, Rayn. Hand society over to the people, and it’ll be mob rule,” said Leofric, his eyes pointed at the ruddy man like daggers at a throat. “How would you have it? ‘Do what you will?’ Should that be the law?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?”

Leofric sighed. “When you build a wall, do you just throw bricks at each other and hope they pile up into something sturdy.”

“I wouldn’t know,” said Rayn, his voice like a mocking hand trying to wrestle over control of the conversation.

“You stack them. You put them in place. You give them purpose.”

“Men aren’t bricks, Loff!”

“No, and that’s why they should be given all the more consideration as to finding their place putting them where they may serve rightly.”

“Let man put himself in his own place?”

“Does the brick know how to build the wall? Do you ask the brick where it would like to fit in the structure?”

“Men aren’t bricks!”

“You’re being orcish, Rayn. You’re smarter than this. You can think in more than one direction!” Leofric yelled the last of those words. The two men rode silently for a moment.

Rayn sighed. His jaw and brow were tighter than bowstrings. His eyes burned like embers in the wind. I could kill him he thought. I never should have asked that dirty boot licker to come.

Leofric glanced at Rayn out of the corner of his eye. His countenance was as cool as spring water running down a winter mountain. He probably wants me dead right now thought Leofric. He’ll come around though. He’s a smart man.

“What are you trying to build with men?” asked Rayn.

“A society that is free and just. A place where children are fed, women are safe, and men are strong and healthy. Something beautiful, not just attractive.”

“I suppose…” said Rayn as though walking across glass. “That wouldn’t be such a bad place to live.”

“Westhalion will be a country that men can be proud of, not because of its strengths, but because of its truths.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I suppose I can trust you, Loff,” said Rayn, rubbing the back of his neck. “I always have, at least.”

“Don’t put your trust in me, Rayn. Put it in God. That’s where I place mine.”

“I told you: He and I have an understanding. I don’t exactly think He’s proud of the world we’ve been building back in Westhalion.”

“Me neither. That isn’t the world of those who keep the faith. The people mostly have it right, but our lords and priests are as craven and limp-wristed as they come.”

“I know what we could do!” said Rayn, snapping his fingers again. “This time, instead of heading back to Westhalion, we could stay out here and build a freelancers guild. We could head back now and then and take street urchins who want to come and make men out of them.”

“Could be a noble cause,” said Leofric. “We might end up with more dead boys than good men though.”

“Yeah…” said Rayn, deflating as quickly as he was excited. “What else can we do for them though. Bring them out here. Give them a sword. Give them a chance to fight, to really be alive. That’s gotta be better than sleeping in a gutter.”

I don’t know, Rayn thought Leofric. If I’m being honest, I don’t have much desire to stay in this world any longer. Hero help me, but I’m ready to die the death of a martyr. I’m ready to spend my life against Hell. That’s the only reason I agreed to come with you. But, I can’t tell you that, can I?

“Hey, what’s that up ahead?” said Rayn in a soft voice, almost a whisper.

“That’s wreckage,” said Leofric before taking off in a canter.

Rayn followed right behind him. After a jaunt, they came to an overturned wagon. Bread loaves, cheeses, grains, beans, and tomatoes littered the ground. Two oxen lay dead at the head of the overturned wagon. Something had mutilated them. Rayn could see the red carnage as he drew closer.

“Looks like a merchant was attacked,” said Rayn. “They must have been headed to Cevola. They were hit by aeons. Bandits definitely wouldn’t make a mess like this. Besides, these roads are too slow for bandits.”

“Clever as ever, Rayn. We’ll sprint the rest of the way to Cevola. We’ll round up a posse and come back here. It’ll be late by then, so we’ll camp and go after the tracks in the morning.”

“Let’s go then! Hyah!”