“We have pushed back the drakken for now, but we will need to reinforce North Fort,” King Solomon said, looking over the battle map. His silvery hair had been cut short at the start of the war, but had grown back to its medium length during the campaign against the drakken and the skywyrms.
Commander Roger sat at his side, motioning to the gold coin on the map. “King’s Sword should still be pressuring Black Sword, the one known as Mirin.” His auburn hair had been cut short during the start of the war as well, though it had remained short due to his weekly grooming.
“We should send another hundred soldiers his way since the fort should be safe.” General William said, taking a small grey block from where the North Fort was, and pushed it up to the gold coin. It was hard to pick up the block with his armoured fingers, but he had grown used to it over the years.
“We need all the soldiers at the fort,” Lady Blackheart said, motioning to the small red wooden cubes beyond the fort. “The Iyrmen are bloodthirsty, and I do not believe they will return any time soon. If the fort is attacked by the dragon as it out paces them, we will need as many soldiers as we can gather to defend ourselves. This Antalia is a relative of the dragon which had attacked previously, and should know the weaknesses of our fort.”
“Isn’t it your responsibility to equip the fort against all threats?” General William asked, looking towards the pale skinned and black haired Lady. He was similarly black haired, though his skin was tanned from being out in the sun and the fields, living the soldier life. “If you are unable to equip the fort, then perhaps I should be given command until it is up to the task of holding back a dragon?”
“You seem to have forgotten how many wars we have fought,” Lady Blackheart said. “Though we have received assistance during those wars, some even by your hand, it was only after we were able to defend the Northern Passage for weeks as your soldiers marched up towards an untouched Northamber, General. The fort has been torn apart nearly ten times in the last century, and once we Blackhearts had taken control of it, it has yet to be breached.”
“Do not forget whose blood the Blackhearts share, General,” King Solomon said, staring at the map still. Though he liked the General, there were times his words slipped too far.
The General coughed into his fist. “I meant no disrespect, your Grace.” The General and Lady Blackheart had been like this ever since the war ten years ago, and even at peace they would often be at each other’s throats.
“Cousin, please forgive his words,” King Solomon said. “The General has a point, but I understand that you have been working hard to defend the North since our Grandfather’s time.” King Solomon tapped the map. “Once this war is over, I will send funds to further strengthen the North Fort. The North Fort has been under siege countless times since the founding of the Kingdom, and it is time that we spend the resources to make it more powerful.”
“Such a promise will need to pass through the Court,” Lady Blackheart said. “I hope that your Grace will remember these words and the sacrifices we of the north have made. The other three forts collectively have yet to face the threats we have faced.”
The King nodded his head. He understood how much of a pain in the ass it would be, but it was true that North Fort had been attacked the most. The West Fort was mostly for show, though it did possess a large navy, just in case. The East Fort and South Fort were just big enough to deal with a threat for a few weeks, long enough for the army to arrive, but the North Fort was much more difficult to march towards and assist as quickly, and its enemies were far more dangerous.
“I will believe in the North Fort’s ability to hold out, and in the ability of the Iyrmen to keep the drakken at bay for some time. Send the Ironfist Company to support King’s Sword and the Swordbearers Battalion.”
General William raised his brows for a moment, but bowed his head. “As you wish, your Grace.” He looked to a soldier nearby, handing out a badge to them.
“Sir, yes sir!” The soldier quickly retreated to find Sergeant Ironfist, who was no doubt drinking himself into a trained stupor.
“We will form another Battalion to be sent to North Fort,” the King said. “Our goal was to destroy their forward base and drive back the silverwyrm. The Iyrmen who have gone north are aiming to slay it for glory, which is fine by me. If they slay it, then the greatest threat is dissipated, and we can force Dark Wing into a peace, and claim tribute from his hoard.”
“We can only pray for the Iyrmen to slay it,” Commander Roger said, staring down at the map, his eyes focused on the various different blocks. Each block was a company, and the larger blocks were a battalion. The golden coin represented the King’s Sword and his Swordbearers Battalion, the greatest force in their possession. They would have been useful against the silverwyrm and the drakken under his command, but they had another task to deal with.
“If they don’t slay it, we will receive a fresh batch of a hundred Iyrmen, isn’t that right?” Lady Blackheart said, referring to the treaty.
“That was the deal,” King Solomon said, recalling the treaty which had been signed before his birth during his grandfather’s time. “Either way, it’s a win for us. An Iyrman is worth five soldiers, so you’d have two fresh Battalions supporting you.” The King picked up a small red block, which always defined the Iyrmen, those who were so thirsty for blood, and placed it at the fort on the map.
Lady Blackheart smiled. “I will still pray for their success so that the war ends quickly.” A hundred Iyrmen were a great boon, but the end of the war was a greater boon.
King Solomon nodded, glancing towards the Majors who had remained silent. The table was for the four of them, the King, the Commander of the Royal Guard, the General, and the Fort Master, who held the same rank as the General. There was also another seat, but the Iyrmen had continued their fight, so their representative was missing. However, now that the general plan of action was called for, the Majors could finally speak.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“King’s Sword has returned!” came a shout through the hallway. The soldier almost tumbled into the room, panting as he landed on his knees. “King’s Sword has returned!”
The King’s lips grew wide into a smile, and the Majors glanced between one another. It seemed their input would not be required for a moment. There were only two reasons why King’s Sword would return.
King’s Sword had succeeded.
King’s Sword had failed.
The heavy steps of King’s Sword echoed through the hall as he appeared, his armour not quite as gleaming as it had been when he had arrived north with his King. His blade was at his side, the only man who was allowed to remain armed at all times. Not even the Commander of the Royal Guard, Roger, could be armed at all times in front of the King, for when he would present himself in front of the King at the Royal Hall, he would need to disarm.
King’s Sword.
It was the title given to a single warrior in the land, typically the childhood friend of the King, who would swear to defend the King until his death. It was different to the Royal Guard, who swore the same oath, for this position was for the right hand of the King, his most trusted confidant. None were allowed to speak the King’s Sword’s name, even the King would refer to the title, for it had become his new name.
King’s Sword dropped to a knee, bowing his head. “My Liege, I have returned!” he declared.
The tone of his voice caused King Solomon to grin even wider. He approached the kneeling King’s Sword and grabbed onto his shoulder. “I expected as much!” The King laughed a relieved laugh. “Stand up, quickly now! A kneeling sword is no good to me.” Even if the King’s Sword was his servant, willing to die if the King commanded it, he still couldn’t forget their childhood.
King’s Sword stood up at the King’s words, taking off his helmet. His face was pale, his hair like liquid strands of gold, and his eyes like piercing blue sapphires, sparkling brightly. “We have dealt with the Dark Wing’s army,” he said. “We’ve destroyed the nearby villages and have captured a hundred of the best drakken we could find.”
King Solomon turned to Lady Blackheart, who had relaxed slightly. “Good news, Lady Blackheart!” The King continued to laugh, not minding how casual he was being in front of the Majors. “I trust there is more? You wouldn’t be so happy if it was just that much.” The King’s face was a large grin.
“I have brought you a gift,” King’s Sword said. “If you would allow me to present it?”
“Present it at once, King’s Sword, for I am not as patient as my name suggests.” King Solomon was known by three monikers. King Solomon the Wise. King Solomon the Patient. King Solomon the Late. The last nickname was one uttered by his detractors, and never to his face.
King’s Sword dropped to his knee once again and held out his hands. Forming from the King’s Sword’s ring was the blade of a drakken, but not just any drakken.
The King stared at it, blinking. “It couldn’t be…”
Commander Roger stood up quickly, slamming the map, causing pieces to clutter. Lady Blackheart’s eyes went wide, and even General William’s mouth was agape.
“Is it really that sword?” Commander Roger’s eyes were greedy.
“I present to you, Commander Black Sword’s Blacksword,” King’s Sword said. It was awkward that Mirin’s name was also his nickname, which was the same as the name of his sword.
It was pure black, made of a single gemstone, which had been worked as though it were metal by some unknown legendary smith. The Blacksword was indestructible, and was an artefact of great power, something which even surpassed the King’s Sword’s Sword of Light.
“Not his head?” King Solomon asked, his lips still wide in a smile. Even if Black Sword Mirin was alive, the fact that his sword had been taken, it was enough to declare the war as won.
“I gave my word to him that I would bury him peacefully,” King’s Sword said. “I have buried him secretly, but I have claimed his blade as proof.” King’s Sword had fought quite the battle against Black Sword, and through their battle to the death, there was a level of mutual respect. Black Sword had asked simply to be buried away from all the war, from all the noise, a place where no one would find him. It was not something the King’s Sword could do, for Dark Wing would easily find the body, but he had made sure none had seen where the Black Sword had been buried, slaying the people who had dug the grave.
“You’re far too good to be King’s Sword,” King Solomon said, smiling still ever so widely. “I will respect the wish, and I shall accept the blade.” The King reached down to take the sword into his hand, feeling its great magic. How King’s Sword resisted the allure of the weapon was beyond him, but he had complete faith in the man, his closest ally.
“I am glad you are pleased, your Grace.” King’s Sword bowed his head once again, standing at the King’s motion.
“Pleased? I’m rather annoyed,” the King said, rubbing his forehead. He sighed dramatically.
The others looked up at him, their eyes curious and slightly worried. The Majors each exchanged glances between one another.
“Do you know how hard it is going to be to reward you for this?” The King placed the sword at his side, inhaling deeply as he felt his strength grow. The magic within the sword was slowly filling him, coursing through his body.
“I only did what was expected of me, your Grace.” King’s Sword smiled. He had done something which other King’s Sword may never be able to beat. He had taken the artefact and had handed it to the King. That alone would put him down in history, never to be forgotten.
“I want to make it so that you aren’t so formal, but that would only bring me trouble.” The King shook his head. “I’ll figure something out.”
“What are your commands?” King’s Sword asked.
“My commands are to celebrate! Dark Wing will soon come for peace! With this, I will return to the capital with the Swordbearers Battalion and the Royal Guard. The rest of the army will remain here under the command of Lady Blackheart and General William,” the King said, making sure to name them in order of importance. “General William, you are to act as her Second General, as you have done for me.”
“As you wish, your Grace,” General William took a knee as the King waved an invisible sword over his shoulders, committing him to his role. He understood that he would be under Lady Blackheart, as was expected. At the North Fort, it was only right for him to be under its Master’s call.
“I will make a request of the King to also take along Sir Florence, Knight of Death, with him on the journey back,” Lady Blackheart said. “Though he is not as powerful as your King’s Sword, I would feel relieved if you were to take his squad with you.”
Sir Florence was someone who could be spoken in the same breath of King’s Sword. He was classed as the second greatest warrior in all the land, after King’s Sword. Some would say the Red Knight was his equal, but they had never clashed sword. The Death Knight Squad was also extremely powerful, and the King recalled the tournament where Commander Roger had been brought to a stalemate by the Death Knight Squad’s Second.
“With the Swordbearers and King’ Sword, my journey will be safe enough. Sir Florence should remain here, at your side, defending the King’s Fort. It would keep my mind at peace.”
Lady Blackheart bowed her head. “I will do as you command.”
The Lady had to offer the escort back, as part of being a good noblewoman, and the King had to refuse, since it was meant to be a gesture of good faith. There had been a moment where he was going to accept, just to see what would happen, but it would induce too much panic.
“Now…” The Kind raised the Blacksword. “I command you all to drink!”