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A Land Without Kings
Chapter 43: Hildebran

Chapter 43: Hildebran

The two men carried little with them besides large furs for warmth and the blades at their sides. Hildebran's long scabbard hung from his back, and Terran's small dagger hung shyly by his side underneath his light blue cloak. Hildebran lagged behind Terran slightly as they walked down a beaten down path. The grass was dead for the most part from heavy horse hooves and wheel marks from various wagons and carts that had been transported through the path. To either side of the crudely designed path were tall evergreen trees that dictated the curves of the path. It was a windy road, but to an onlooker it would be near impossible to spot the two unless they happened to stumble upon them from behind or pass by on the very same path. The clouds worked hard to cover the sun, but small rays of light peered out from behind a cloud every once in a while, struggling to displace the gloomy afternoon. The sounds of light wind pressed at their ears as they went, with an occasional bird chirp accompanying the unwelcome force of cool air.

Every now and again a passerby would trot by on horseback or walk briskly by the two men. Hildebran shied his face away, pulling his fur skin tightly over his distinct Ki'vatsu markings. Terran made himself the more seen of the two, showing a friendly face and a head nod. His decaying arm remained well concealed beneath thick gloves made of pig skin and the baggy sleeves of his overly long Northman's cloak.

The hour for the sun to retire until dawn had arrived much later than it had farther north, but Terran and Hildebran decided to press on as long as they could before they tired, using the concealment of the dark to the best of their advantage. "If anything, we should be hiding out in the foothills to either side of the path by day and travelling by night. If the Kingsguard should be happened to find us travelling alone by day, we surely would be questioned and taken to who knows where. Yet, we have not the time to be resting about, even in the day. Mestrane will wait for no one," Terran had said.

"What do you mean Mestrane? I thought we were travelling to Weptswur so I could find my kin, the Ki'vatsu?" Hildebran had caught up now to Terran and peered down at him, shoulders broadened, and nostrils flared.

"Easy there, Hildebran. I guess I should tell you, seeing as though we are now in Weptswur."

"Tell me what? Say it now, little man. I could just as easily send you off beyond those evergreen's and down the rocky foothills to be fed to the creatures of the night for all of hell's eternity." Hildebran's voice had grown whiny.

"I am not taking you to the Ki'vatsu to have a little reunion and a cup of tea, friend. I am taking you to them to help them, and in turn, help the realm."

"So, what are you saying Slayer—that I am just a part of your elegant little plan to save the universe by having me be your little puppet as I go play the part of savior with the Ki'vatsu? I don't think it'll work like that. The Ki'vatsu work for no one but themselves. They are in foreign land to their home of Rednork, I assure you they won't fight for any king of Modena."

Terran allowed a small silence to fill the air after Hildebran's words had their sting. Hildebran's posture suggested his guilt after his angry tone. Terran let that guilt fester, using that to his advantage as he hoped to slowly sway Hildebran to his cause.

Hildebran began again, "Well we're this far now. What is it about the Ki'vatsu that makes you think they'll roll over to our will?"

"It is not our will they follow now. It is a sorcerer's will—a sorcerer who dwells here in Weptswur. They must be freed, and the sorcerer is one you will not like."

"Who? Savok? If it's him my blade runs through his throat the moment I—"

"—it is not Savok, but I believe you will know of him somehow, maybe his son..."

Hildebran stopped walking and it took Terran a few steps to turn around and see that Hildebran wasn't moving.

"We shouldn't stop here Hildebran, there may be others following behind us who will catch up to us."

"Then we'll move this discussion off the road." Hildebran yanked Terran by the hood of his Fereton blue cloak and dragged him through the sharp pines of the evergreen trees. Standing in the middle of a thick cluster of trees Hildebran spoke to Terran now, inches from his face. "Tell me right now, Slayer boy, how you know so much? Huh? Are you pulling things out from your bum now because you slay the Maldur King at the meadows of the most enchanted land in the realm? I admit that probably makes a man's balls tingle, and good for you. But I will not take orders from a wee man who has no ability with a sword, and valid reason to help—and certainly not a man whose arm is mysteriously rotting away like some sort of Deranged Man or something." Spit landed onto Terran's forehead at the last line, but he didn't seem to notice. His face remained objective, infuriating Hildebran further. Hildebran turned away and spit angrily into the ground.

"I am surprised it took this long."

"What? That what took this long?"

"The anger, the frustration. It is only right you know the truth."

"Yeah, I sure hope so. It's not like you have anything to be mad about except that you put our whole realm into damnation." Hildebran bit his tongue and instantly felt regretful of the last statement. It was too far, and after all, Terran had saved his life when he had allowed himself to waste away into the artic winds of the north that night. He managed to force out an "I'm sorry."

"Do not be sorry, it is only natural. I will tell you what you ought to know, but nothing more. As you have said, I killed the last Maldur King that day in the meadows of Mestrane. The King still has a people, a race of Maldurians. I have had these visions and these dreams ever since that day where I am speaking with one of the Maldurians. At first, very vague. It scared me greatly at first, actually it drove me to insanity. You saw me at my worst when I arrived at the gates of your land with Vonqkvist, my companion. But since then, I have grown to appreciate the visions I have, and I am told many valuable things by the Maldur who appear to me."

Hildebran had been listening intently now, wondering silently to himself whether Terran was still hurt inside about what he had just said moments ago. Hildebran heaved a deep inhalation before he spoke now, his tone completely changed, "Who are these Maldurians in your visions? Are they real?"

"Of course, they are real, and they are here in this realm, but I do not know where. They say they cannot tell me now, but one day they will."

"Well what did they say about the Ki'vatsu?"

"They led me to you, and they told me you would be the key to saving the rest of the Ki'vatsu. They are bound to serve an evil master, but their freedom from this master will lead to a crucial asset in the battle."

"The battle? What're you speaking in prophecy now? What battle is to come, Slayer?"

"Do not worry so much about the future, Hildebran. We need to find the Ki'vatsu."

Hildebran turned his head to the side with a snarky grin but was punished by the bristles of an evergreen branch as its thin needle poked his eye. The grin left his face and was replaced by Terran's own grin. The two returned to the road from under the cover of the trees and began walking again. "You know what would be very welcome right now, Slayer?"

"A horse would be nice; my short legs can't move too fast."

"A was thinking like a bed and a hot cup of tea. Yes, that would be nice indeed."

It wasn't long before the two emerged from the long path less than an hour later as the path opened up to a larger road meant for large carts, horses, and caravans. It swooped downhill and flattened out across a large hilly plain. To the side of the large road was a small village of about two hundred acres, with steam emanating from chimneys within its four-foot walls.

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"I think this is home for the night, ay?" Hildebran glanced hopefully at Terran.

"Yes, but we must be discreet, for the whole nation of Weptswur is likely to know about the dangerous Ki'vatsu. Keep your hood up and your head down."

The two walked across the hundred yards of dried mud leading up to the village gates. The sky was a stormy gray and the moon poked out from between a few drifting clouds now. The moon lit up the barren plains of land, leaving nowhere to be concealed should one wish to sneak upon the village.

It was Terran who unveiled his head from under his hood and approached the gate first, peering up at the gatemen who stood guard atop the small terrace. The knight standing watched peered down at them as they approached, "Who goes there?"

Hildebran kept his head down and allowed Terran to speak for the both of them. "We are merely nomad travelers, victims of the recent war. We are making our may towards home, or, what was our own home and were hoping for a place to stay for the night."

"We don't accept foreigners. Sorry." The knight turned to whisper something to the second sentry who was on watch beside him. They talked quietly to themselves, which felt like an eternity for Hildebran and Terran.

"Please let us in for the night, we will be gone on the 'morrow. I swear by it." Terran gave a pitiful cough and doubled over, in the hope of eliciting sympathy.

"We aren't responsible for finding a home for nomads. Anyways, we aren't to allow foreigners into closed borders of any kind within these lands—the King's Orders too."

"Well is the King inside this village?"

"What concern is that to you? Who are you? Tell us your name." The second sentry spoke now, seeming more than suspicious.

"Ser Varisar Raticore, the fifth of his name. I squired the great Lord King Borgwas at the Siege of Perorg."

The second sentry was unimpressed, "who's your buddy down there? Yeah, him. Have him show his face."

Hildebran slowly glanced up, hoping against hope that his fur cloak would conceal his identity underneath.

"I guess we have to send word to the royal guard, it looks like these two works for the evil King Steed." The two sentries exchanged a serious look, and for a moment Hildebran's blood froze. Should we be running now?

"No, just a simple jape. We'll let you in, but you'd better be gone before first light tomorrow. The King wouldn't like to learn of this. Fortunately, the King is miles and miles from here." The two gave hearty laughs and the wide gates of the pitiful four-foot walls eased open, creaking loudly in the night air.

Hildebran and Terran laughed jovially, the relief washing over them like a warm wave.

"Really though, King Borgwas? I thought he died by decapitation during the First Age of men?"

"He did, but I had a feeling those two didn't study their history very well when they were young lads."

"Doesn't explain Ser Varisar though, does it?"

"Apparently you didn't study your history well then either. He was the Usurper to the throne when Borgwas was decapitated." Hildebran gave a stifled laugh but reigned it in when they walked through the gates below the two sentry guards.

"You two know where you're headed?"

"Yeah just to the inn down the street there."

The guard nodded his head confidently, and again Hildebran had to refrain from laughter. There was no way they knew where they were headed, beyond the fact he planned on finding a warm bed and a pint of ale.

It was a beautiful village as they passed through. Tall, immaculate buildings, taverns, and inns lined the lantern lit streets at night. The buildings and houses were made of gray stone, the infrastructure beautifully laid out symmetrically on each structure wall.

"I don't think this place lacks gold or myrrh."

"Not in the slightest," agreed Terran.

The two passed by a stable with stable boys tending to their horses and their goats. Hildebran watched amused as a goat snatched a treat, which had been meant for one of the horses, right out of the stable boy's hand while he was faced away from the feisty little goat.

"We mustn't stare too much, Hildebran. I get the feeling Weptswur is on heavy lockdown based off recent events with the Ki'vatsu and Mestrane and such."

Hildebran lowered his head again and raised his hood over his head as they walked. He focused on his feet, one in front of the other, as they traversed the cobblestone road through the center of the village. He couldn't help but look up every now and again and admire the beautiful village and its ambient night lights. The lights were so comforting and relaxing, and the village really was still and quiet in the night. The loudest noise he could hear since passing the stable was the sound of his boots on the cobblestone.

They continued to wander deeper into the village, but most all doors were shut for the night and it was quite rare to encounter a village folk on the street. The taverns were all but closed, the closest sign of a tavern in order had been but one when they had first walked in, but the tavern owner was wiping down tables and shot them a grim look when they had peered inside in hope of a grabbing a pint or two.

Finally, the two came upon a lady who sat outside her home, with her hair wrapped around her fingers as she played with her long blonde hair. Hildebran looked to Terran and the two knew it was likely their only chance to find somewhere to stay without knocking down someone's door. As Hildebran approached, he wondered about her age. She had not lifted her head up from the ends of her hair where her fingers twiddled, but she seemed to have a pleasant figure and beautiful hair, the dark roots growing out into lighter and brighter blonde tips. She peered up curiously as she heard their boots. The click of their boots on the cobblestone edged nearer and nearer to where she sat. Hildebran's heart fluttered and then he suddenly was grateful to lower his head, remembering Terran had told him to keep his face concealed as much as he could, being a Ki'vatsu. He felt shy suddenly, maybe it was that he simply hadn't seen a woman since he had lost the others at Scourden when Alvar had likely betray him. Either way, her face had sent flutters through his belly, and her face was quite pleasant from the snapshot he had in his mind before he lowered his head.

Terran didn't seem to care or even act shy, he approached her and walked right up to her. He almost out stretched his decaying arm that was now a white, bony limb but he quickly shook his sleeve over it and reached out his left arm. I am Ser Varisar Raticore, formerly squire to King Borgwas at the Siege of Perorg. I am hoping my companion and I could be the fortunate fellows to be treated as guests of your home for the night..." Terran had trailed off a little bit towards the end of the gesture, realizing the boldness of the request. A smile had already formed over her lips after his introduction, "Ser Varisar is from the First Age of the history books, I am almost certain. But if you will be pleased to be called by that I see no problem." She let out a pretty giggle and soon Hildebran found himself smiling sheepishly himself, and quickly focused to wipe the foolish smile from his face. Hopefully she hadn't noticed, he thought to himself. He suddenly felt defiant towards her because of the effect she had had on him already, despite her not having any intention towards him besides a sideward glance briefly.

"Aha, very well, my dear! That was smart of you, but if I am serious, we could use some lodgings for the night, and I promise on the 'morrow we will be gone by the rise of the sun."

"Oh, well I'll have to take it up with my father who is inside, but I can't imagine he'll take in two foreigners off the street who can't so much as provide a true name." Her tone seemed innocent but weary. They must've warned these villagers well ahead of time to be weary of anyone who is not their own. She seems paranoid already. Hildebran began to realize how heavy his legs were. His calves felt like someone had taken a hammer to each leg and hacked until his limbs hung on to his body by the thinnest thread. The bottoms of his feet also ached from treading over much hard dirt and land for days on end with little rest.

"Please, kind lady. We have travelled long and far for days on end with no horse or steed to spur us on. We are in need of a wee bit of rest and perhaps a small pint to raise the spirits. We'll be on our way before you even knew we were here."

The lady's warm brown eyes met Terran's for a moment and for a second Hildebran was prepared for her to turn the offer away by the way that her face had dropped at the latest request, yet she pursed her lips before granting his wish. She turned to go inside to speak with her father and Hildebran shared a moment of silent prayer to The Creator up above that they could finally kick up their legs and lay their backs on a softer surface than the frozen ground.

It was longer than fifteen minutes before the lady returned from inside with news of her father's word. In the meantime, Hildebran couldn't hold his tongue, "You into her then, Terran? You spoke well with her." A snicker had come over Hildebran's face.

Terran replied in a lowered voice, conscious that there was a chance that they could be heard, "do not speak like a fool, Hildebran. I am trying to get us lodgings for the night. You ought to be thankful."

"Easy, Slayer. I was only kidding. I think she is at least ten years the younger than me, but for you I'd say she's perfect age, eh?"

Terran had to fight to keep the small grin from sliding across his face. So, he does have a sense of humor—when it comes to women at least.

"Unfortunately for you, Slayer, at the rate that hand of yours is decaying you will soon be a different species altogether." Hildebran grunted as all of the air was sucked out from him as Terran landed a knuckled fist into his diaphragm. He made a loud gasping noise to struggle for air and Terran anxiously shushed him putting his finger to his lips and perhaps shushing him louder than his gasp was.

The two straightened up in the blink of an eye when they heard the door begin to creep open. Hesitantly from behind the door the lady's head peered out and Hildebran's heart sank, assuming the worst. But he was pleasantly surprised.

"You may spend the night, but no longer." The two smiled wide and exchanged grins at each other, but soon the grin turned to apprehension, "But you must be sneaky, because I cannot have my father know."

Terran turned to Hildebran as a look of can we actually do this settled in on both of their faces, before their prayers must have been answered, "I am only joking foreigners. My father welcomes the knight that squired the King Borgwas at the Siege of Perorg. And as for your companion, he is welcome too I guess." And with that, she opened the door wide as the two entered the warm, smoky house. The first scent that drifted through Hildebran's nose was the smell of freshly brewed ale and the warmth of a blazing fire.