- Somewhere in the wilderness of Emall –
Nervous. That is the word that so perfectly described the man in the Rowan’s coat of arms as he looked around again and again in the darkness. He stood alone in a small clearing waiting for something or someone.
His wait wasn’t for long though as another man, covered in a much more mundane cloak appeared from the dark. The figure approached casually; his face was broad with a small scar on his left cheek.
“I hope you haven’t waited too long,” the scarred man said much more casually than was expected in front of a member of a noble family.
“Speak with some more respect when you address me, commoner,” the knight spat back.
The other man chuckled a little bit and in a split second, he was next to the knight with his hand opened wide in front of his face. He stopped just before touching him, but the threat was clearly sent and received as the knight only reacted after the man had stopped moving.
“You are a third-rate knight from a third-rate family, Dittrich, so I would advise you to keep your tongue in check. You can be happy that I am even working with you clowns and that my employer has deep pockets,” he scowled before returning to his nonchalant tone of voice and taking a step back.
Dittrich swallowed hard before asking, “What am I here for?”
“Your father has decided that this is the best chance you are gonna get. He wants you to kill the little lordling.”
“What?!” Dittrich exclaimed they should be far enough from the camp for no one to hear him. “That is suicide! I won’t even reach him behind his guard and even if I do, they will kill me right after.”
“I suggest you get a little bit creative then or should I tell your father that he should rather send your younger brother to do the job,” the other man replied with a cruel smile. “The chance of success would definitely be higher with him but considering that your father would never sacrifice your younger brother so easily he might not agree.
Dittrich gritted his teeth but prevented himself from bursting out in anger. “How am I supposed to achieve this goal?”
The other man simply shrugged at that. “Not my problem, I was just asked to deliver a message. What you do with it is entirely your problem.”
Dittrich seemed lost in thought though little of it was focused on his task and much more on how he deserved to be in this situation at all, so much so that they stood silently for nearly a minute before he asked, “Are you going to help me with this?”
“Not my job, except if you can pay my fee?”
Dittrich stayed quiet, without his family there was no way he could pay what a man like that would ask for in payment and they both were aware.
The knight shook his head defeated and turned away, “I got to get back before anyone notices me missing.”
“I look forward to hearing about your great success,” the scarred man called after him with a wide smile.
He remained standing there until Dittrich was gone and then shook his head while smirking. The knight would certainly fail and die if he even had the guts to try but he might make a nice little distraction.
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Michael
Twenty augmenters on the level of a knight were a force to be reckoned with. To enter the lands of a neighboring country with this kind of force would be viewed as a declaration of war if arriving unannounced and even when doing the same with a member of the same country it was perceived as extremely threatening in the best of cases. Especially in this case where the knights outnumbered the forces that could contest them probably two to one at least, there would be little House Grim could do if Michael decided to order his knights to burn down the countryside until they raised enough troops to overwhelm them.
He of course had no reason to do so, quite the contrary, but it was still a thought to keep when preparing for the meeting with the local nobility, they were fools if they didn’t feel majorly threatened by now.
Michael had sent a messenger, but the man had only gotten a day's head start, and augmenters traveled fast. Michael wouldn’t have been surprised if they overtook the messenger at some point, but they would only know on arrival at the fortress that was the center of the County of Grent.
Greyhold was much more of a defensive structure than even Reen Castle was. It was an old ruin that had been claimed by the first settlers and later rebuilt by the first lord, which meant that at least parts of it were still of the much superior craftsmanship of long times past. It was mostly built of stone which made it unique this far south and while Reen was mostly a city with a castle attached, Greyhold was definitely a Castle first and foremost.
Three tall towers covered each point of the triangular complex on the cusp of an especially large hill, their top having been rebuilt with wood due to them collapsing in the centuries of abandonment, the rock they and the walls were mostly made of gave the whole thing its name with a dark grey color.
They barely managed to gaze at the castle from afar when they were met by a patrol of House Grim soldiers headed by a stern-looking knight that Michael was sure he had seen before.
“Lord Rowan, my name is Sir Helbrect, commander of the knights of House Grim,” the knight introduced himself with a tone as cold as ice. He was looking the part too with a large scar parting his brown hair on the right side of his head and his burly statue. Michael noticed that the heraldic of the twin swords on gray ground had not changed on the tabard.
“I was tasked to bring you straight to his Lordship and ensure your safety.” The knight gave Michael’s escort a short glance and then added, “The second part seems less vital.”
“Well met, Sir Helbrect. I thank you for your hospitality and would also like to meet with Lord Grim as quickly as possible,” Michael replied, and the knight turned his horse around with a nod.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Grent was a frontier county through and through, its development being more on par with Emall than with Reen. Most of the county was covered by dense and old forests only clearing up where the humans had made their farms. Michael knew that Grent wasn’t especially rich, but their hard way of living bred a type of human that made excellent soldiers that stood shoulder to shoulder with the elites of even House Rowan, with the caveat that they were fewer in numbers.
The town that had formed around Greyhold was small, mostly just the families of soldiers, craftsmen, and some of the surrounding nobles living here. As they made their way through the town, Michael could see many of the inhabitants throw them hostile gazes. He didn’t quite know why though; it would have been understandable if it were the other way around, but the only reason Michael could think of was that his uncle had spread rumors about them.
Michael decided to ignore the stares, and they quickly reached the gate of Greyhold on top of the hill. The hostility didn’t fade as they entered the castle proper though even if the soldiers were more disciplined than to stare at them too blatantly.
What the hells is wrong with these people, Michael thought, frustration welling up inside of him.
“Your knights may be housed in the barracks, and we would ask you to limit your guard to two men. You are safe here and I swear on my honor and soul with Lord Idas as my witness that no harm shall befall you from any of the servants of Lord Grim or him personally,” Commander Helbrect declared loudly not only for Michael but also the guards and knights of House Grim to hear.
Michael nodded at the declaration; he didn’t trust these people further than he could throw them without augmenting but to have the commander swear on his soul with Idas as a witness was a show of faith that Michael could accept.
He decided on Lance and Silas as his guards, Zeke was busy organizing the men and horses, and he would like to keep Eydis away from his uncle as much as possible.
They followed the knight commander through the dimly lit halls of the fortress until they finally reached the audience chamber. It was an elongated room with a fire pit on both ends of the room and a long table moved against the wall which could be moved in the middle to plan. Right now, the room was relatively open, and the focus was on the man who sat in a highchair at the end of the room.
Lord Ducan Grim looked bad, he was ungroomed, his skin was pale, and he looked like he had neither trained nor slept in a long while. Michael had to muster a lot of self-control not to gasp at the sight of the once so-imposing man. Was it sickness or guilt that had made the man into a shadow of his former self?
He perked up a little bit from his slumped posture when Michael entered, and Michael could see a glint of hope rush over his face which was quickly crushed by Michael’s anger he had difficulties suppressing.
Lord Grim rose from his chair and looked even thinner than before. “Michael, I welcome you to my home. Your messenger arrived only a few hours before you but didn’t inform us as to what the nature of your visit will be.”
“Don’t worry it is not a social visit,” Michael replied coldly. “I have come to learn of a threat to the kingdom. The Rangda tribes appear to be mustering for a coalition against you and I can’t just sit by and watch that happen.”
Lord Grim frowned and glanced at Sir Helbrect. “Our scouts haven’t reported anything to that effect. Sure, the tribes seem to be more active lately but that is probably due to … other reasons.”
“It was more of a prophecy than a scout report, you should be familiar with those,” Michael retorted. “Which is why I am here to find out the validity of the threat before mobilizing fully.”
Sir Helbrect growled at the obvious insult but Lord Grim cut him off with a raised hand. “If the threat you are describing turns out to be real then we will be grateful for every aid you can grant us. I will instruct my patrols to keep an eye out and inform us about any unusual activities from the savages.”
Michael took a deep breath to reign himself in, he was here to help and not insult those he tried to aid. “That sounds like a good plan. You should probably also prepare for the worst while I take my men to scout into the Rangda territory.”
“You wish to journey into clan territory yourself? I cannot allow this, your father would …,” Lord Grim started and then stopped with an expression of dread coming over his face and he sat back down heavily.
“I am not asking for permission but rather simply informing you as the lord of these lands,” Michael growled at the guilt his uncle was showing. “I would very much appreciate all the information you have about the tribes and their holy sites, those being the most likely place to assemble such an army. I would also appreciate your hospitality for the night so we can rest and resupply for our mission.”
Lord Grim looked at him for a few seconds before nodding. “Our hospitality is yours and I will personally join you in the scouting mission.”
Sir Helbrect looked at his lord for a moment but then reassumed his silent vigil, Michael couldn’t read the man at all, but he assumed that the knight wasn’t happy about his master’s decision.
Michael wholeheartedly agreed with the knight, he wanted to protest but he honestly couldn’t think of a good reason why they shouldn’t come along except for his personal feelings about the subject so he hesitantly agreed.
They spent an hour planning their expedition before Michael returned to the barracks, he didn’t want to be too far from his men just in case. He found most of them still lurking around in the courtyard having a kind of standoff with the local knights and guards.
Michael could see relief on their faces when he finally exited through the door. He smiled a little bit at their readiness to torch the entire castle if he didn’t return.
“Stop wasting time here and get some rest, we are not staying long,” Michael ordered with an approving smile and the knights began to file into their allocated part of the garrison slowly.
Michael stayed and basked in the sun for now with around half his men also remaining outside doing one thing or the other.
Sir Helbrect was on the other side of the yard reprimanding his men for lingering around halfheartedly when a group of riders entered through the gate, in front was a teenage girl with fiery red hair and a scowl on her face.
Tara had grown since Michael had last seen her, the same as he had, but she had also lost a lot of her baby fat and looked athletic in her practical pants and shirt. A bow wiggled at the side of her saddle and her overall outfit screamed hunting as did her three retainers.
Michael’s cousin was off her horse before the animal even had the chance to stop. She looked around frantically until she finally spotted Michael. Tara stomped over to him with an even deeper scowl and stopped barely an arm's length in front of him.
She would hit him that much was sure but what Michael didn’t expect was that just before she lunged mana vented into the air around her. Her arm flickered as it shot forward with inhuman speed right in his face’s direction. Tara was definitely fast, and her augmenting did surprise Michael, but she wasn’t fast enough.
Michael grabbed her wrist in the middle of her strike and forced her to a halt, his hair ruffled by the air following her strike.
“It is nice to see you too, Tara,” was the only thing Michael could say before shouts drowned out everything else.
The knights and guardsmen of House Grim were shouting for him to release their lady and Michael’s knights were ordering them to stay back. Michael and Tara simply stood in silence, staring at each other while several emotions ran through both of their eyes.
After what felt like an hour but couldn’t have been more than a few moments, Tara surged forward and pulled Michael into her arms. Michael followed suit with a smile and enclosed his cousin in his.
“I will hit you later,” Tara muttered quietly while squeezing him harder.
Michael laughed and retorted, “I might even let you if you don’t burn mana for it.”
They stood there for a while until she finally let go of him and took a step back. Michael glanced at the men surrounding them and said loudly, “What are you looking at? Got nothing better to do?”
With the onlookers taken care of Michael turned back to Tara, “You look adventurous.”
Her expression turned into a mixture of sourness and pride as she patted the dust of her cloak. “I didn’t have much of a choice really.”
Michael frowned questioningly and she said, “Come on, let’s talk in private. You should at least know why you deserve to be hit.”